Page 87 of Broken Veil
And when he turned, it was no longer the Green Man Carys saw. It was no longer the crackling prankster with bark in his hair and leaves springing from his shoulders or even the red-haired man in the pictures.
Now Jack of the Forest was the ancient and the elder.
His grey hair hung to his shoulders in tangled waves, and a white beard fell down his chest. His eyes were stone grey, and when Carys looked into them, she saw not one druid but all the druids from every story. Merlin and Gandalf and Obi-Wan Kenobi.
The old man looked at Carys. “What is your plan, Daughter of Two Worlds? Because you cannot defeat the Morrígan. How can one defeat a god at all? If even one still believes in her—in either world—a kernel of her divinity remains.”
“I don’t know,” Carys said. “That’s why I’m asking for your help.”
“Do you think you can persuade her to return? Because the only thing you can kill is their faith in her,” Jack said. “And faith is a very hard thing to kill.”
Kill faith in the Morrígan in order to rid the Brightlands of her? Carys had no idea what might kill faith in the Morrígan, but she had a feeling that it wasn’t something she was going to figure out that day.
“Will you help the girl or not?” Angus said. “There are other druids about. Others with a kinder face and more wisdom than you, Old Man.”
“Oh hush, now you’re just being insulting.” Jack turned back to the pot and reached for a bright green pasta scoop that was shaped like a dinosaur head. “I suppose we could go visit the beekeeper,” he said. “Might be good to hear what Jibril thinks. Check on what messages the bees have from other places.”
When Jack turned with the first bowl of noodles in his hands, he had become a cheerful rogue with dancing eyes, curly redhair, ruddy cheeks, and just a few leaves stuck in his hair. “I serve you food, Carys Morgan. And I offer you respite in my home tonight.”
Jack held out his hand and pushed the air. Within seconds, an entirely new wing of his house appeared. Rich wood panels clad the walls, and a half dozen doors appeared in the distance.
“That’s kind of you, Jack.” Angus rose. “We can get a good rest tonight, then drive down to Wyre Forest in the morning.”
“That’s fine for you all,” Duncan said. “But if you’re staying here tonight, I need to go move the van so we still have a car to drive tomorrow.” He held out his hand. “Carys, you come with me. Anyone else prefer a hotel?”
“No need.” Jack snapped his fingers and handed Duncan a bowl of ramen. “I pulled your vehicle over into my world. They won’t find it there.”
Duncan looked at the man, then at his finger. “You didn’t even need to snap, did you?”
“I didn’t, no, but humans seem to like some kind of gesture with their magic.”
“And we’re stuck here until you let us go, aren’t we?” His jaw was tense. “Angus?” Duncan turned to the grey-headed man.
“To be fair, we didn’t petition for entry,” Angus said. “So broadly speaking, we are here until Jack decides otherwise.”
Carys tiptoedthrough dusty grey rubble, leaning on the twisted frame of an old car that was crushed in the middle of the street. The remains of a building that had tumbled over were just past the car, and smoke drifted in the air like evening fog.
The air-raid sirens were immediately recognizable even though she’d only heard them in movies. There were buzzing sounds in the air that Carys realized were planes flying overhead.
Shouts and honks sounded somewhere far away. When she looked up, there was a light fall of flakes that looked like snow, but when she held out her hand, grey flakes landed in her palm.
Ashes. She was walking through ashes.
Carys saw a person standing at the end of the road, a slim figure with flowing red curls that fell down her back.
She was wearing a long gown made of black, and as she knelt down and put her hands on the rubble, the Morrígan threw her head back and let out an agonized wail that drowned out the sirens until the world around them went silent.
No sirens. No shouting. No buzzing planes.
Just the soft fall of ashes all around them.
The goddess wailed on and on, until the wails became screams so loud that Carys put her hands over her ears and closed her eyes to try to muffle the piercing sound.
She could not stop it. It drilled into her mind like an ice pick.
“Stop!” Carys screamed. “Stop it, stop!”
The screaming stopped.
