Chapter 12
12
With a final salute, the window around the draugar slowly closed. Rafael glanced around the room, noticing the amazed expressions on everyone’s faces. “That was…impressive.”
Morrigan nodded. “As you can see, you are not alone in this war against the Fae. He cannot succeed or more than just my granddaughters will die. The Multiverse cannot survive the blending of the Fae Courts. Fer-Diorich knows this but seems to have overlooked that detail in his quest for power. Now that he has lost control of the draugar, or at least most of them, he will be desperate to figure out whom to replace them with.”
Morgan met Rafael’s gaze, her eyes widening. “Um, Morrigan? I think, unknowingly, we may have already discovered who or what he is replacing the draugar with. Just after Lucan arrived, Berserkers attacked us in the forest—not regular Berserkers either. Everything about them was magnified. They were crazier, stronger, and meaner than the original Norse Berserkers. It took all three of us working together to defeat them.”
Freyja frowned at Ceridwen. “Well, that poses a tiny problem. The original Berserkers were close to undefeatable back in the day.”
“You don’t think Loki is helping Fer-Diorich, do you?” Ceri asked. “This sounds like something he’d pull.”
“And risk the wrath of his granddaughter—my goddaughter, Shalendra?” Freyja shook her head. “Since she freed him from Jotunheimr, he has been on his best behavior. Not even one tiny slip-up, which, for Loki, is a miracle.”
The Norse goddess turned to Lucan, who seemed to be nothing more than a shadow near the room’s entrance. “Lucan?” She scowled. “Really? They aren’t going to tear you into pieces. Please come here?”
With each slow step heavy with reluctance, his old friend crept toward them and stopped just behind Freyja. “From the way a couple of them are looking at me, I don’t think I’m going to take your word for it, my lady. Their animosity seems to be growing exceedingly fast the longer I’m here.”
Rafael rose and stood beside him, surprised to see Morgan on his heels as she took her place between Lucan and Freyja. He winked at his brave woman and turned his stony gaze to the other wolves. “I have known Lucan since we were young boys playing in the hills of northern Spain. Should anyone here doubt his character, I will vouch for him.”
“As will I,” Morgan added, her gaze landing on Makari and then moving to the three new wolves. “No one in this room has the right to judge anyone, and everyone in this room has had to make difficult decisions that ended with regrets. Yet, we all live and work together to make our lives count for something. You cannot pass judgment until you have walked in someone else’s shoes.”
“Well said, sister,” Gwyn said, her hand over her heart.
“Well said, indeed,” Morrigan added. “Everyone in this room has a similar story, so what makes yours worse or better than another’s?” She linked arms with Ceridwen and caressed Morgan’s cheek before blowing Gwyn a kiss. “Now, we must go but heed our warning. Not all is as it seems. We believe a god will try to help Fer-Diorich escape the Unseelie Court on the eve of Samhain. One who has coveted the Fae throne for too long is now willing to commit the ultimate sin to accomplish his goal.”
Ceridwen nodded. “Cernunnos and I believe Bres will try to aid the Dark Fae and may have already begun his plan. We know little more than that, but he hasn’t been seen in at least a week. I was the last person to see him, which can’t be good. Cernunnos continues to search for him, along with a few others in our pantheon. Sadly, when Bres doesn’t want to be found, no one can find him. We hope that with the pantheons working together and your help, we can figure out his next move—before it’s too late.”
Fáelán stood and gave the goddesses an old-world bow. “We are truly honored you would choose us as your emissaries. I believe I speak for all in this room. We will do everything in and above our powers to give you aid, my ladies.”
Ceridwen smiled and squeezed Morrigan’s arm. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
Morrigan gave her granddaughters a longing glance. “Watch out for each other and always be safe. Never forget you are more powerful together than you are apart.” Rafael couldn’t help but see, as everyone else could, the sadness in the goddess’s eyes. Tha gaol agam ort,” she whispered as the women disappeared.
I love you too, Morgan’s heartfelt whisper broke Rafael’s heart. He wished the words had been for him. Her tear-filled gaze met his. Sharp sorrow beat at him, and he did the only thing he could—pulled her body against his, tucking her under his arm and simply holding her close.
“Morrigan always knew how to make an exit,” Freyja chuckled. If she saw the twins’ reactions, she never let on as she turned to Torin. “You understand more than the others what we’re up against. You fought by émilien’s side during World War II and have a little experience with the other werewolves and draugar.”
She held up her hand when his mouth opened. Surprisingly, his jaws snapped shut, reminding Rafael of his wolf. He had no doubt Torin had been about to object. Not that he could blame him.
“I realize your wife is about to give birth, which will be the pivotal moment in this entire dreaded affair. One guarantee I can offer you is that she and the unborn baby will be safe if she stays here. Heimdall is watching over and protecting these caves, and I have also warded them against any evil. Anyone who tries, whether above or below ground, will encounter a rather nasty surprise. Not to mention being sent to a different world. Jotunheimr is unpleasant in any season.”
Kilian frowned, throwing his brother a glance. “Isn’t it a frozen wasteland?”
Freyja smiled and wiggled her elegant eyebrows. “It is. When you are used to warmth, getting sucked into a frozen landscape is not very pleasant. The magically warded planet also lets King Sondor’s enforcer know about any intruder, whether big or small. Not even I want to go up against Brath Khuunverath, and I’m not afraid of many people.”
Torin met Gwyn’s steady gaze. She smiled at him and nodded. “You heard her. Never insult a goddess.”
He reluctantly nodded and turned to Freyja. “What exactly do you need from me, my lady?”
“I need you and one other to accompany me and Lucan to Alfheimr to meet with one of the co-regents. He would like you to help with the werewolf/draugar situation.”
Torin frowned. “Me? What does he think I can do to help?”
Freyja gave him a secretive smile. “You are the reason this group is so strong. You are the reason they are alive and relatively happy in their current forms. Few new wolves can shift, so your insight and everything you’ve done throughout the centuries to help your brothers here would be a tremendous help. Raisa is at her wit’s end, and her husband is urging his brother to seek help—regardless of the source.”
“You mentioned Raisa before. Who is she?” Gwyn asked, her fingers threaded through Torin’s as she held it against her rounded abdomen.
“Raisa was a Russian Night Witch during Hitler’s war. She was an amazing pilot, so when her plane went down, I figured she would perish, and I would offer her a second chance at life. I already had two other pilots in my small army. Surprisingly, she survived, only to be almost eviscerated by what we now know was an Ironclaw. An elf named Ailuin Vakas found her and saved her life. She is now favored among the wolves and has been named their queen.”
Rafael caught Garrett and Angel’s worried glance at Mathayus, who cleared his throat. “My lady, do all wolves like us have to follow this Raisa?”
Freyja gave it a moment of thought. “I don’t see why you should. You do not know her. Of course, that may change once you meet her and talk with the others.”
“Well,” Garrett added, “we gave our allegiance to Morrigan as our queen. We are, after all, ancient Celtic warriors. It only seemed natural.”
The goddess nodded, and Rafael noticed the minute smirk appear and then disappear. “That makes perfect sense, and you couldn’t have chosen a better queen. Morrigan is a wonderful leader.”
“I’m confused,” Morgan interjected. “I didn’t know the different pantheons knew one another or had any interactions, so seeing you interacting with my grandmother was…interesting.”
Freyja shrugged. “It’s no different than here. People know each other and have friends and relatives on different continents. Why shouldn’t we know one another? Just think of our worlds as continents in the Multiverse. Take your grandmother, for example. I have known her for millennia. While she is one of the fiercest warriors on the battlefield, she is equally so with those she cares about and loves. Her empathy is why Fer-Diorich cursed her in the first place. I always trust her to have my back just as I have hers. No one is more loyal than your grandmother or her two sisters. While Macha keeps to herself, Nemain visits my best friend, Idunn, quite often, and I have gotten to know her almost as well as Morrigan.”
A slight air movement filtered through the room, bringing with it the fresh scent of lilac and pine. It reminded Rafael of his youth, but the more he tried to pinpoint the memory, the more elusive it became.
Freyja glanced around the room. “So, who will volunteer to go with Torin? I will tell you that time is different between realms. While a day goes by there, mere seconds pass here so that you will return to Midgard…sorry, Earth, before Samhaim. Everyone here has a part to play in the upcoming battle with the Dark Fae. I hope we can stop him on our end before the beginning of the harvest and winter, but you must be ready to fight.”
Her amethyst gaze met Morgan’s. “You have to be ready to fight. Controlling your powers will be paramount or we will not win.”
Kilian stood and placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “While Fáelán won’t like it, I will volunteer to go with Torin. I, more than any other Immortal here, have an affinity with wolves?—”
“It’s more than an affinity,” Fáelán interrupted. “Call it a sixth sense, or maybe it’s a blood force, but whatever it is, Kilian has it. I have never seen wolves respond as they do for him. It’s truly remarkable.”
Morgan smiled. “Magical.”
Fáelán returned her smile. “It is that, little sister.”
Freyja turned her gaze to Torin. “What is your decision? Are you willing to come with me and help? I give you my word you will be back by the end of the day tomorrow. Heimdall will also be watching over those you love in your absence. I might add that it is a gift not to be taken lightly.”
She glanced at Lucan. “Zhivko seems to trust you, so I need you to remain here and continue monitoring events.” Lucan dipped his head in a single nod.
Torin and Gwyn stood arm-in-arm and faced the goddess as a united front. Torin bowed his head, one hand over his heart. “We are honored, my lady.”
“Thank you,” Gwyn whispered. “From all of us.”
“I will give you a minute to say your goodbyes. While I may not be here or of your pantheon, I will watch over you, too.” She grinned, her face beyond beautiful, as she winked at Gwyn. “I love being a godmother…” In a flash of purple and silver, Freyja was gone.
In the second it took for Torin to cradle Gwyn’s face between his hands and gently kiss her, he, along with a surprised Kilian, disappeared, leaving everyone in the room a bit shellshocked and bereft.
Morgan gripped Rafael’s arm, then dropped her hand and walked over to her sister, holding her tightly. She glanced at Lucan and then turned back to Rafael. “I guess our job just got a lot harder, didn’t it? I also need to get serious about learning how to control my new powers.”
Gwyn pulled back, a frown on her tear-stained face. “You mentioned this before but didn’t explain. What new powers exactly?”
“I’m not sure they are new, just new to me. It’s like I was trying to explain in the square. I’ve never excelled in spells, and there are so many things you can do that I can’t. Your spirit and powers have always been so strong.”
She exhaled. “After I almost died, Rafael and Nemain somehow gave me a power boost. At least, that’s the easiest way to explain it. I need to relearn lessons I never paid attention to growing up.”
“Can I help? It would give me something to do instead of staying here and waiting for Torin to return.”
Morgan shook her head. “No, Gwyn. This is the safest place for you to be right now. I refuse to take a chance on you getting hurt or worse. I can’t wait to bounce your babies on each knee and tell them horrible stories about what an ornery mother they have.”
She scowled. “You wouldn’t.”
Morgan laughed. “You know I would.”
Gwyn rolled her eyes but wrapped her arms around Morgan’s neck. “Then make sure you work hard and learn fast because I need you here before these babies are born.”
“I will return her safely, Gwyn,” Rafael said. “That’s my promise to you.” He turned to Morgan and held out his paw, waiting for her. Indecision warred on her face as she held onto her sister, yet her gaze remained on his outstretched paw.
“Go, sister,” Gwyn whispered. “Learn to use your magic, which is a long time coming, I might add. You are stronger than I ever will be, mentally and physically. Use that strength to master your magic. I know it’s a huge burden to bear, but save us. I don’t think I will survive without you.”
Morgan’s gaze met her sister’s teary one, and she cupped her cheek in the palm of her hand. “You can and will survive whether I am there or not. These are your children…a product of love and are loved beyond all others. They are Fae and wolf—a deadly combination when backed against a wall.”
She smiled and wiggled her eyebrows. “I know because it is what I am now, although I haven’t seen any wolf signs yet. It’s more like I have increased strength and speed. I’d much rather have those than hairy legs.” She chuckled at Gwyn’s groan. “We will all get through this, sister. All of us.” She kissed her sister’s cheek and turned, placing her hand in Rafael’s paw as he led her back into the cave system.
They followed the pathway through the central cavern, the stillness both calming and unnerving, even to him. Too many people relied on him and Morgan, and he wasn’t used to it. He preferred his solitary lifestyle and, for the hundredth time, wondered how he had managed to get himself into this current predicament.
He glanced at Morgan, whose expression was relaxed, almost peaceful, as she gazed around the dimly illuminated cavern. Several yards to their left, the white limestone making up the drape formation glistened. The milky white mineral was pristine and reminded him of newly fallen snow.
“You like the caverns?” he asked, holding his breath. While he would always love the forest and mountains, he had come to appreciate the dark silence of the underground cave system even more. Like the serenity of a church, the caverns soothed his troubled soul, and he wanted her to cherish them as profoundly as he did.
“I do,” she whispered. “I grew up running through the forests of Europe and the savannas and deserts of Africa, but this…” She raised her arms away from her sides and turned in a circle, her face upturned and her smile wide. “This is a cathedral, and I feel such harmony with nature when I’m here. This is what religion is all about. It’s about finding your inner peace and letting it soothe your soul. Wanting to spread that relaxation and solace—to comfort the masses, so to speak.”
Rafael smiled. “That’s a wonderful thought.” He pulled his gaze from her stunning face and turned to the cavern, observing the thousands of stalactites in various stages of growth. He could hear even the faintest drips as the previous day’s rain seeped through the limestone cracks in the cave walls. He discerned where each drop landed, either in the vast pool near the far wall of the cavern or on the stalagmites scattered across the floor, mirroring the icicle-shaped formations that adorned the ceiling.
“This, too, is my haven. My church. As a boy, I hated the underworld, believing it to be the entrance to hell.”
Morgan nodded as they continued their slow pace along the pathway. “That’s what the Church wanted you to believe. Anything strange that couldn’t be explained was either evil or mystical. Science has explained away so many ancient myths—at least to their satisfaction. What we don’t want to know or can’t explain gets filed away or misinterpreted, and the truth, while right in front of them, is ignored.”
“Humans aren’t ready for other planes of existence or the very creatures hiding in the shadows. They aren’t ready to know about us, and truthfully, we don’t want to be seen. We like our lives as they are—at least, most of us. I think Makari is the most troubled of the brotherhood. The others have accepted their fate and have learned to live with it, such as it is.”
He wrapped his paws around her curvy waist and lifted her, placing her atop a large boulder that served as a high step leading into a long tunnel. The lichen Fáelán had planted along the ceiling cast a dim green light on the path, revealing the dips and cracks in the walls. Several rounded knobs protruded along the subtle outward curve of the waist-high wall as it sloped toward the stone floor.
“You’re right about the church, at least, what the Roman Catholic pope and bishops preached. They wanted people to follow them, not the ancient kings. They liked the riches taken from poor peasants—their power overall. For a time, I held disdain for the Church and its teachings. I couldn’t understand how they could preach love and forgiveness while constraining the people they were supposed to be protecting and nurturing.”
Needing to touch her again, he placed his paw in the center of her lower back, where her spine gently sloped to her curvy butt as he led her into the next cave and the entrance to his cottage.
“Time and confinement have given me a new perspective.”
She stopped and glanced back down the tunnel. “I thought you said it was blocked?”
He grinned. “It was. The day we discussed it, I made a small opening—the high step.”
“Thank you, but don’t think we’re finished discussing the other subject.” She gave him a sideways glare. “You speak as if you’re confined, like the others, but you aren’t, though, are you? You can turn back into a man. Why did you lead everyone on, including me, letting us think you couldn’t?”
He inhaled, thinking about his response. How could he even describe the turmoil he had felt throughout the centuries? The guilt? He had belittled himself and his situation. The brothers’ confinement and curse was a travesty, and like Torin, he held so much guilt in his heart. How did one forgive oneself for trying to help and only making things worse?
“I have no answer that seems good enough,” he said. “In trying to aid my brethren, I hurt them.”
Stepping into the kitchen, he moved toward the sink window, centered so he could watch the sun as it set over the mountaintop. The rich shades of orange swirling through the reds created a kaleidoscope of beauty as the day ended. The usual calmness that soothed him was absent.
Morgan laid her hand on his arm, moving her hand over the white fur a couple of times before stopping, the heat from her palm soothing. “Rafael? I’m sorry if I asked something I shouldn’t. I just want to understand.”
They stood in silence, both staring at the mountains. He inhaled, slowly letting out his breath, and made up his mind. For the first time since being cursed, he changed into his human form, using a bit of Fae magic to clothe himself in his favorite black jeans and white peasant shirt. Almost afraid of her reaction, he turned and met Morgan’s beautiful blue gaze.
Her eyes widened, her pink tongue wetting her lower lip. His gut tightened, almost regretting the change.
“Oh, my…” She grinned. “I imagined the dark, Spanish looks, but you’re a pirate.” With a sparkle in her blue eyes, her smile widened, lighting up her beautiful face. “Pirates are my favorite part of history. ”