Page 41 of Wild Ivy
“Goddess of war, fate and death,” I mutter.
“Precisely, young vampire. Fate. You speak of fate, and you are correct. This is all fated to happen.”
“You are working with Life,” I spit out, pointing at her accusingly.
She shakes her head. “I don’t work with anyone. I wanted my powers back. If she thinks she can take them from me, she has another thing coming.”
“You don’t even have them,” I point out. “Bram does.”
Her eyes zero in on him. “Indeed. And he will give them back.”
“No, he won’t,” Bram says, but Blackthorn strides between them and raises his hands.
“We are not here to fight. You are both guests in my house. I suggest you tone it down a notch before you offend that house, and it removes you permanently.”
Morrigan’s lips curve into a wry smile. “Your house has no power over me, Professor. But I’ll respect its boundaries, for now.” She turns her attention back to Bram. “The magick chose you because it needed to evolve. To change, just as Ivy is changing.”
“What do you know about what’s happening to Ivy?” I demand.
“I know that Life’s desperation has blinded her to the truth,” Morrigan says. “The old ways are dying. The separation of powers - Life, Death, even my own dominion over fate - it’s becoming obsolete.”
“Because of what happened when we changed time?” Tate asks.
“That was merely the catalyst,” she replies. “The breaking point that set everything in motion. But this transformation has been coming for centuries. The world is different now. It needs different gods.”
“Gods who understand balance,” Bram says softly, and his magick ripples through the air, curling around its ex-Mistress.
“Yes.” Morrigan’s eyes gleam as she reaches out to touch it. “Which is why my power won’t return to me. It’s found a better vessel. One who understands that balance is not about separation, but integration.”
“Like Ivy,” I say. “She’s not just becoming more powerful. She’s becoming something new entirely.”
“The first of her kind,” Blackthorn agrees. “A being who embodies both life and death. Beginning and end. Creation and destruction.”
“But what about Life?” Tate asks. “If she’s dying...”
Morrigan’s expression hardens. “She sealed her own fate when she chose to cling to power rather than embrace change. The universe has no patience for gods who refuse to evolve.”
“So what do we do?” I ask, feeling distinctly out of my depth. “Just sit here while Ivy transforms into some new kind of god, and Life dies?”
“Yes,” Morrigan states simply.
“No,” Blackthorn contradicts. “We prepare.”
“Prepare for what?” Tate asks.
“For what comes after,” Blackthorn says grimly. “When Life dies, there will be a vacuum of power. Nature abhors a vacuum. If Ivy isn’t ready to step into that role...”
“Everything collapses,” Bram finishes. “The balance between life and death will shatter.”
“Life has no idea what she’s done,” I say, shaking my head. “She thinks she’s just containing Death until she can steal her power.”
“Her ignorance makes her more dangerous,” Morrigan says. “She’s tampering with forces she doesn’t understand, desperate to save herself. She doesn’t realise she’s actually accelerating her own destruction.”
“And Ivy’s transformation,” Tate adds quietly.
“Precisely.” Blackthorn moves to another shelf, pulling down more books. “Which gives us an advantage. Life won’t be preparing for what’s really coming.”
“And what exactly is coming?” I demand, tired of all this cryptic god talk.
