Page 93 of The Shadow Path
“It’s more complicated than that,” Carys murmured.
The Morrigan was as much a fertility goddess as a war goddess, though popular depictions of her tended to lean toward the dark and macabre. This nubile redhead hanging out in the remnant of an ancient forest and lording over intoxicated teenagers was as much a part of her worship as bloodshed would be.
“War.” The Morrigan sighed. “Everyone remembers the blood.” She rolled to her side and the crows fluttered, rearranging themselves around her. “I granted these islands their sovereignty. Even those who came to invade them eventually…” She shrugged. “Well, they all just fucked and now it’s a… a tapestry, isn’t it?” She kicked her leg out again, surveying the young people around her with a tender smile. “Look how beautiful they are. This forest has changed so much since the last time I saw it, but I can find my Fianna anywhere I go.”
“Why are you here?” Duncan, as always, cut to the chase. “And why did you call me a thief?”
“Because you stole a branch from my forest! Orick should have killed you.” The Morrigan bared her teeth at Duncan before she turned to Carys. “Why him? The other one has much finer manners.”
“I am so not getting into this with you,” Carys said. “And you’re one to talk about manners. Didn’t you imply that you like to eat babies?”
“Oi, that’s disgusting,” a young man leaning against the trunk of the oak muttered. “You don’t do that, do you, Macha?”
“Don’t be silly.” The Morrigan winked at Carys. “I was playing a part.”
“Why?” Duncan demanded again.
She turned her face up to the sun. “Because I wanted to see the sun, of course.”
“You’re a goddess.” Cadell stared at her. “The magic of the fae gates shouldn’t bind you.”
The young woman blinked. “Shouldn’t it?”
“No, it shouldn’t,” Cadell said. “You were born here.”
“Was I?”
“The gods can walk between words,” Cadell said. “It is known.”
The Morrigan parroted him again. “Can we?”
Cadell frowned, but Carys knew exactly what the Morrigan was doing.
“Come on.” She grabbed Cadell’s arm and turned to leave. “She’s not going to answer our questions. Bye, Macha, or Badb. Or maybe Anu. Not sure what you’re going by today.”
“Oh, you’re so boring!” the Morrigan shouted. “Ugh.”
Carys spun around. “Why are you here? What offering is Queen Orla going to give you? What’s the big plan, Morrigan?”
The goddess stretched her arms out and hung on to a branch, bouncing a little bit.
Even Carys was distracted by her breasts.
“I’m here to visit the trees,” the Morrigan said. “I was worried about them.”
“Yeah.” Carys started to turn again. “She’s not gonna tell us. We should go.”
There was no way an ancient three-natured goddess of war and fertility was going to tell them her plans, so Carys wasn’t going to waste their time. It was entirely possible with an old deity like the Morrigan that she had no plans at all and just wanted to irritate someone to amuse herself.
But the longer they spent in the Brightlands, the more havoc Orla and Cian might be wreaking in the Shadows.
She knew where the Crow Mother was now, and seeing the Morrigan surrounded by drunk teenagers was actually a little bitreassuring. If they needed to find her, all they’d probably have to do was follow the police reports.
“Come back!” the goddess shouted. “I can curse you, you know.”
“Okay.” The thought sent a chill down her spine, but Carys kept walking.
Duncan leaned down. “You’re the mythology professor, but shouldn’t we?—”
