Morrigan (35 page)

Ceridwyn never saw it coming. Her red gown
burst into flames. Her prior screams were nothing compared to the
cries of pain mingled with indescribable fury. When she tried to
extinguish the flames with her breath, it only fueled the blaze
which traveled from the silk dress to the long black hair, which
had become unraveled in her struggles. Morrigan, who had only
intended to startle her mother long enough to try to escape, stared
in horror as Ceridwyn screamed and ripped at her burning flesh.

“Ceridwyn! No, you cannot die! Not yet!”

The horrified shriek erupted from Hecate,
heard even above Ceridwyn’s agonized wails. Tiarn had the hag
pinned down under his large paws, trying to restrain her from
coming to Ceridwyn’s aid. Seeing her daughter burning had rekindled
Hecate’s own power. With an almost inhuman strength, she threw the
gigantic wolf to the side. He barked as he hit the hard ground, but
it didn’t slow him down. He was on her instantly, grabbing hold of
her already bruised and bitten arm with his sharp fangs. She
snarled and snapped right back at him. Her arms and legs were
covered in blood and her claw-like nails were barred in
defense.

“Infidel, release me! Release me at once! You
pollute this sacred ground with your very presence!”

Tiarn could only growl in return. Again he
knocked Hecate to the ground, and still Ceridwyn screamed and
batted at the flames. Hecate knew she was running out of time.
Morrigan saw the desperation in her eyes as she struggled to find a
weapon. She couldn’t reach her dagger; she sought anything on the
ground that she could use to defend herself. It didn’t take long
for her to find something.

“Tiarn!” Morrigan cried. “Look out!”

Her desperate cry did nothing more than
distract Tiarn at a critical moment in the conflict. He looked up
at her with his gold-rimmed eyes, and she tried to point out the
danger, but it was too late. With an evil grin, Hecate plunged a
shard of broken crystal into his side. He whimpered once but still
didn’t let go of Hecate’s arm until she twisted her foot and kicked
him in the face, knocking him unconscious.

“No! Tiarn, no!”

Morrigan tried to run to him, but the fiery
form of Ceridwyn blocked her only path. Meanwhile, Hecate was using
the one arm that was not bloodied to call upon her own guardian
element. With a wave of her hand, icy water rose from the stream in
the corner of the cavern and flew through the air looking almost
like a blue phoenix in flight. It swirled and danced as Hecate
guided the flow toward Ceridwyn, wrapping her in a cradling blanket
of moisture. The magical flames fought for dominance, but
Morrigan’s fire couldn’t compete with the quenching element of the
water or the wisdom of the crone who wielded it. The flames were
extinguished.

All that was left of Ceridwyn’s gown were the
black and charred remains that hung in shreds and clung to the
burned flesh of her body. Her glorious black hair was gone, except
for a few random patches, and even her eyebrows had been cinged
away. One half of her face and upper body was horribly burned, yet
somehow the other half remained miraculously untouched. Morrigan
cried with regret, horrified to see what she had done to her
mother. She never intended things to go so far.

Ceridwyn should have been in horrible pain
and she shouldn’t have been able to move. Her evil will and her
desire for immortality drove her forward when any mortal would have
surrendered. She leered at Morrigan as she shuffled toward her.

“You have been a very, very naughty little
girl,” Ceridwyn whispered in a hoarse and raspy voice. She
backhanded Morrigan so hard her daughter fell to the ground.

“What shall her punishment be?” Hecate
asked.

The old woman had finally managed to limp
back into the circle of stones. Despite her injuries and her age,
she dragged the fallen wolf behind her, leaving him just outside
the ring like a discarded carcass. Hecate took her place beside
Ceridwyn. They smiled grotesquely, their faces bloody and deformed,
as they watched Morrigan quiver under their hard stare. She
strained to see past them toward Tiarn, but they made sure to block
her view, glorifying in her fear Tiarn was gone for good.

“We cannot kill her yet,” Hecate decided. “We
can still perform the ritual on the next moon, after your wounds
have healed.”

“True.” Ceridwyn studied Morrigan. Her eyes
seemed even colder without her beauty to hide behind. “However, we
can make her suffer. We can kill all that she holds dear.”

“Yes.” Hecate nodded her head. “She can watch
her true love die and live with the knowledge she is the one to
blame. It is amazing how much pain one can tolerate without death
coming to make its claim.”

“Indeed,” Ceridwyn agreed. “That is a far
worse punishment than death for one who believes herself to be so
noble and pure. The lycan shall die in his animal form so they
cannot say goodbye.”

“No, oh, please, no!” Morrigan begged.
“Mother, please! I didn’t mean to hurt you. You have to know that!
I swear, I’ll do anything you want me to do. Just please, please
let Tiarn go! This isn’t his battle!”

“It became his battle the moment he laid eyes
upon you!” Hecate scoffed. “Had I known he was your soul mate, I
would never have tricked him into believing he killed that
child.”

“Wh . . . what?” Morrigan was instantly alert
at the mention of the child whose death tortured Tiarn. “What do
you mean? You killed that little boy?”

“Of course it was I who killed that
child.”

“But why would you do such a thing?”

“The blood of a child was needed for my youth
elixir. I arranged for the lycan to appear guilty, so the villagers
would not fear me. I had intended to let him die on the stocks, but
then realized he might serve a greater purpose. Do you really think
the dog would have the nerve to do such a thing? I don’t believe he
has ever killed. He couldn’t even kill me when he had the chance!
Pathetic waste of what I had hoped to be a perfectly good watch
dog!” Hecate cackled, seemingly amused with her own little jest.
“Do you hear that, dog? You sold your soul for nothing! Just as you
shall die for nothing!”

Morrigan was sobbing. “How could you do such
a thing? To kill an innocent child and let poor Tiarn believe—”

“Silence!” Ceridwyn ordered. “Enough
storytelling for one evening! Get on with it, Mother. I must get to
the healer so they can restore my beauty! I cannot walk around
looking like this for eternity.”

Hecate nodded. “Time to tell your dog
goodbye, my dear.”

The crone pulled a dagger from a small
leather hilt around her ankle, the one she had been unable to reach
during her battle with Tiarn. Morrigan recognized it as the knife
that had taken the life of Caedmon. She lifted the sharp point
toward the throat of the wolf with a gleeful smile.

“Mother, wait!” Arianrhod cried.

Morrigan had almost forgotten about the
queen. She had remained silent for so long, she had assumed she had
passed out again. Arianrhod had finally managed to break free of
the hemp ropes that had pinned her down. She moved beside Morrigan,
shielding her, yet still too far from Tiarn to save him.

Hecate barely spared her daughter a glance
before turning back to her work. “I wait for no one! Least of all
you!”

She pressed the lingering blade to Tiarn’s
throat, but before she could strike the fatal blow, Arianrhod
raised her arms to the heavens. The ground under their feet began
to tremble. The ceiling above them started to shake. Morrigan heard
the sound of rock coming lose and crumbling. She looked up just in
time to see one of the large stalactites had snapped free from the
roof of the cavern. Hecate screamed when she realized what was
happening and tried to shield her face with her hands, but it was
too late. The pointed stalactite crashed into Hecate’s wilting
chest, impaling her.

“Mother! No!”

Ceridwyn cried out and ran to Hecate’s side
while Morrigan and Arianrhod watched the scene with mingled horror
and relief. Ceridwyn pounded her fists against Hecate’s chest in a
fruitless effort to revive her. When there was no response, she
screamed again and yanked at the little hair she had left in
frustration. Then she turned to her sister, her face a mask of
hatred and unrequited fury.

“She cannot be dead! She cannot die!”
Ceridwyn cried. “We were supposed to live forever!”

“Ceridwyn,” Arianrhod’s voice was gentle, “it
is over. Hecate is gone. Now please, may we end this nightmare
without more bloodshed?”

“Bitch!” Ceridwyn spat. “It was you who
killed her! You have killed my mother, and you must pay!”

Arianrhod met her sister’s anger with sad
tears. “She was our mother! Do you truly believe I wished for
things to turn out this way? Hecate left me no choice! She was
about to kill an innocent man. I am sorry for your grief, but you
must know I grieve as well! No matter how she wronged me, I loved
her every bit as much as you.”

“Grief?” Ceridwyn laughed bitterly as she
pulled herself to her feet, leaving the broken body of her mother
behind. “Love? Do you honestly believe I cared for that hag any
more than I care for this brat?” She gestured to Morrigan, who
flinched at the utter detachment she saw in her mother’s face. “I
only needed them alive for the prophecy! Now that Hecate is gone,
and you have ruined my chances for immortality, I see no reason for
any of you to live another day.”

Ceridwyn pursed her lips and again Morrigan
found herself being swept up by her ungodly winds. Arianrhod
grabbed hold of her arm with one hand and clung to the crystal
altar with her other. It wasn’t long before the wind had them both
on their knees, struggling to breathe. They could barely move as
they were ceaselessly pelted with gust after gust of blustery
wind.

Morrigan tried to fight against her mother’s
attack. She was desperate to get to Tiarn. She became even more
terrified when she saw Ceridwyn had claimed Hecate’s small dagger.
Even as she continued her magical barrage, she teased Morrigan by
running the tip of the blade over the lycan’s thick pelt of fur.
Ceridwyn knew he wasn’t a threat anymore, and it was more fun for
her to torture and play with him than to just kill him swiftly.
Every few inches, she would prick his skin with the blade. She
obviously enjoyed Morrigan’s agony just as much as she enjoyed the
torture itself.

Morrigan flinched and cried out every time
she saw the blood well from Tiarn’s many wounds. She felt the pain
as though it was her own flesh. She wondered just how much he could
handle before it became too much and she lost him forever. The
constant fear weakened her and drained her powers. She tried to
escape the wrath of the wind, but each time she took one step
forward her mother would use her control over her element to push
her back even further into the darkness of the cavern. Morrigan
attempted to use her own abilities to call up a flame, but the
torrent of wind combated her weakened efforts, and Ceridwyn had
been sure to blow all the remaining candles out of her reach.

“Please, can’t you do something?” she begged
Arianrhod. “She’s going to kill him!”

“The room is not very stable.” The queen had
to scream to be heard over the gusty torrent. “If I attempt to move
the earth again, I fear the whole cavern may collapse and crush us
all.”

That almost seemed like a better option than
letting Ceridwyn have her way with them. Her mother was
unrelenting. She continued to poke and jab at Tiarn, and the force
of the wind she controlled made it difficult for Morrigan to catch
her breath. She was fairing much better than Arianrhod. The queen
was getting weaker as each moment passed, and before long she
slumped over, nearing unconsciousness again. It wasn’t surprising
considering she had suffered from a head wound on top of being
drugged. If they were going to escape, she was their only hope. The
first step was getting her mother away from the defenseless lycan
before the damage done was irreparable.

“Do you really want to waste your time with
him?” Morrigan shouted to be heard over the blaring wind. “I’m the
reason this all went so wrong. I set Arianrhod free. I betrayed
you. Why don’t you come after me with your little knife? Are you
are afraid I might be stronger than you, Mother?”

Morrigan was lucky. Her mother’s pride was
her only real weakness. As soon as she issued the challenge, the
winds instantly ceased. Ceridwyn stood with her posture regal
despite her many wounds. She even made an effort to straighten what
was left of her hair and adjust the shreds of her gown.

“I fear no one!” she said through clenched
teeth. “Least of all the ungrateful child I had the misfortune to
carry within my womb. That is a problem I plan to remedy
presently.” She held up Hecate’s jeweled dagger.

“Go ahead and do it!” Morrigan almost
snorted. The little knife hardly seemed like a threat after all she
had been through. “Just kill me, Mother! Get it over with! I’m not
afraid of you, and I’m not afraid to die. The only thing I’m afraid
of is somehow becoming like you! That would be a fate worse than
anything you can do to me.”

Her mother’s face twisted into a hideous
scowl. “Is that so? Perhaps we shall test that theory.”

Ceridwyn inched toward her, each step
deliberate and strong despite the fact she looked like a walking
corpse. Morrigan was relieved to have taken her attention away from
Tiarn, but she had no idea how she was ever going to save herself.
From the corner of her eye, she spied the ritual dagger, half
hidden amongst the debris that had fallen from the cavern ceiling
during the previous round of battles.

The crystal blade was broken, but somehow the
jagged remnants seemed far sharper and more dangerous than it had
been when it was whole. It was definitely enough to do some damage
if only she could call the athame to her. Morrigan reached out her
hand, but she was exhausted and sore. While the knife trembled for
a moment, she just couldn’t break it free from the piles of dirt
and rock that held it pinned to the ground. Meanwhile, Ceridwyn
brusquely kicked her sister aside, as though she were nothing more
than a discarded piece of clothing, and loomed over Morrigan. With
two quick motions, she sliced through Morrigan’s gown and slashed
the skin of her arms. Morrigan never imagined it would hurt so
much. Her eyes filled with tears and she struggled to keep from
crying out in pain.