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MORRIGAN

Oronrel

Something has happened. I feel it in the depths of my being.

Eilish.

She’s stronger now.

She’s fed her angel, which means she’s taken Cambion as a lover.

The pang of regret catches me off-guard.

I always had a soft spot for the elf, but what’s done is done.

And now Eilish is more powerful. I sensed the shift the moment she fed from the former King of Nature.

With Cambion and the others feeding her, she will only continue to grow stronger. I can’t allow that to happen.

She’s moving—fast. I can sense her movements as she passes into the fae realm. I sit on the throne and tear my soul from my body, searching through the thin space between the astral plane and the physical one. My soul manifests within a tent.

Eilish stands from her bedroll and laces her boots. She cocks her head and snorts bitterly as she realizes I’m here.

“Bold, Morrigan,” she says. “Is it fear that keeps you from visiting me in person? Or something else?”

“I come to warn you, Eilish.”

It’s true. Though I hate her, I still need her… alive.

She glares at me. “Considering what happened to me the last time you supposedly tried to help me, I think I’ll forego the speech and get right to the point.” She crosses her arms and cocks a hip. “I’m not interested in anything you have to say.”

“The Cockatrice hunts you.”

“Yes, I know,” she sighs with exasperation.

“You can’t trust Theren.”

“Why?”

“He may have broken free from my spell, but he was dark long before I interfered. If you don’t believe me, ask Cambion. Theren once studied beneath Abedon himself. That’ s why I used him. He’s just as much Abedon’s servant as is the Cockatrice, and I fear they both seek to kill you.”

“Let’s say I believe you,” she starts with narrowed eyes. “Why do you care if I live or die?”

“Of course I care if you die!” I say, sounding shocked.

Eilish takes a step toward me. “Because I’m the key to some prophecy?”

I’m getting sick of these games. I smile and my own eyes narrow. “You are a tool, Eilish. A means to an end.”

“Whose end?” she asks, with a skeptical look on her glowing face. Cambion looks good on her.

“No matter what happens, there will be more death.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means everyone you love is in danger. There are forces moving against you—forces that are far more dangerous than Variant or I could ever be. Believe what you will, but you’re a beacon of destruction. Your very existence challenges the fabrication of this world.”

There it is. The flicker of doubt.

“You’re lying,” she says.

“You know my words to be true,” I insist. “You’ve felt it all along. You, Eilish, are the harbinger of death. So many have already fallen, and your little resistance has only just begun.” My hand reaches out to brush her cheek in a phantom touch. Tingles spear down my arm as she flinches away.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she seethes.

I drop my hand. “Come with me. You’ve seen the visions, the prophecies... you and I are meant to fight side by side against the darkness that’s coming. We aren’t meant to fight each other.”

She laughs at that. “You think I’d willingly go with you? And leave the others?”

“They won’t survive the war if you continue to deny your fate.”

Eilish lifts her chin defiantly. “From what I hear, there’s more than one ending to this story, Morrigan. Which makes me think if you’re desperate enough to come here, you know not many of those endings are in your favor. I think I’m liking my odds so far.”

My soul snaps back to my body.

Standing up from the onyx throne, I blast one of the columns with my magic and it explodes before my eyes. The tip of my middle finger turns black, charred from the talisman. Each time I use too much magic before the piece has time to charge, I feel it wearing away at me. I must get my power back!

The Cockatrice enters the throne room, casting a disinterested glance toward the destroyed column before meeting my gaze.

“What?” I demand.

“An orc scout has reported that Variant and his party have located Theren and the others. There’s a fight in the forest beneath the volcano, not far from Mount Dolgum.”

“Good. With any luck, Theren will be back in the fold before—”

“You misunderstand, Morrigan,” the Cockatrice sneers. “Theren will never return to Oronrel.”

“Then?”

“I will use him and the others to get to Eilish and then I will kill her, which will end my contract with you once and for all.”

“What do you want me to say?” I ask, frowning at the ugly creature.

“Nothing,” it responds. “After my contract is finished, how long do you think it will be before I get my hands on that enchanted mirror in which Silvanus hid your power?”

I lunge for the Cockatrice, but he moves out of the way.

“What use do you have with my power?”

“As I said before, I have my own plans where the angel is concerned. My master wants her, and I will get my hands on her—whether I have to kill you to do so or not. Your days are numbered as it is, Midnight Queen. I would tread carefully.”

My teeth ache as I clench my jaw. The Cockatrice walks past me and flops onto the throne. I storm out of the room. My skin prickles and the urge to yank the hair out of my head is strong, for the anger that radiates from the depths of my spirit is deafening.

I want the Cockatrice dead.

As soon as Variant returns, we’ll find a way to end the foul thing.

Abedon’s little lap dog has no idea whom he is dealing with. I’ve peeled the skin from creatures more threatening than him and lived to tell the tale. My days aren’t numbered, but his are, for no fires of the underworld burn hotter than the scorn of my rage.

***

EILISH

Siranthria

A blanket of rain falls in this part of the fae realm.

We’re fewer than twenty miles from one of the great elven cities, where my people believe demons are keeping a group of rebels captive.

With any luck, the rebels will help our cause and gain their freedom in return.

.. however, I can’t help but think about Morrigan’s words.

Rain obscures everything in sight as the storm pushes our way. Mercenaries splash through puddles, their hounds following close behind. We move as a small unit beneath the dim light of a streetlamp. Our connection, Inkor, a yellow-eyed basilisk shifter, stands at the gate, ready to let us in.

“Welcome to Siranthria, Lady Fulthain.”

Belroth moves ahead of me and blocks me from sight as we enter the city walls.

Pulling my hood lower, I move behind him through the streets, careful to duck into the shadows whenever city guards or Variant’s men pass by.

The rebels are held in a guard tower nearby.

Belroth takes four men and goes east as I continue toward the north.

Nothing here is dry or safe, as the entire city looks abandoned after the raids.

I eye the fence that blocks the entrance to the guard tower. One of the mercenaries in my team boosts me over and I land on my feet with a splash. The water slides right off my gear, but even so, the cold finds its way into the places where neither leather nor hide cover.

Dipping low, I slide my dagger through a few of the links in the fence, allowing my team through. Myerdoth looks up at the guard tower.

“I’ll keep watch,” he suggests and briefly takes to the sky before he lands on top of the tower. I prod along the door and find it’s not warded with magic. With a flick of my wrist, the lock gives and we press onward.

My team moves through the doorway and I cover them from the rear.

Someone signals to me and I see the rebels behind iron bars.

It’s the same sort of iron Morrigan used to imprison the fae at the Threst , the sort of iron that burns faeries.

Pressing closer, I lean toward those cowering near the far wall.

“You must go away,” a small, frightened voice squeaks.

I approach slowly, raising my hands to show I mean them no harm. An elf shivers in the corner, and I notice his ears have been clipped by the guards. Variant apparently has taken his cues from the Unseelie Court—more and more elves are being shamed in the same way, according to my scouts.

“Don’t be afraid of us,” I say gently. “We’re here to help you.”

The elf turns his head to show a series of burns and other injuries.

Parts of his golden skin have been peeled away, and blood leaks from wounds that look infected.

He must have fought the guards and this was his punishment.

And yet, despite the shaming and the injuries, he holds himself with pride.

“It’s all right,” I continue. “My name is Eilish. I’m here to get you out.”

“I-is it true? The Vindication has come for us?” one of them stammers. I nod and the team begins to saw through the bars. I’m surprised they’ve heard of us but proud.

Myerdoth pops his head in through the window. “Guards are approaching. They aren’t aware of our presence, but we must leave quickly.”

“Can you buy us some time?”

The gargoyle grumbles incoherently before flying off once more. A loud crash from down the road sends the guards scurrying toward the sound. Lightning claps from up above as we free the rebels and escort them safely out of the cell and back through the narrow alleyways toward the city gate.

Inkor scratches his head in disbelief. “Didn’t think you’d actually be able to pull it off.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I respond with a smile.

He returns it. “Belroth was right about you, Lady Fulthain. The world needs fierce leaders like you.”

Removing his hat, the basilisk takes a knee on the wet cobblestone. I place my hand on his shoulder and signal for him to rise.

“This isn’t a time to bow to anyone. You’ve done us a favor this evening, and I won’t forget it. If you need anything, please, don’t hesitate to call on me.”

Belroth and the others join me with the rest of the rebels and we make a clean exit before heading back to camp. While the others pack up, I return to the stronghold.

Tonight was a success, but the Midnight Queen was right about one thing: I am the reason for so many deaths.

If not for Dragan embarking on this journey with me, the gargoyles would still be alive.

If not for me, Morrigan would still be trapped in the tower of Variant’s palace.

All of those lives would not have been lost in the Veil, if not for me.

If I’d been stronger… my mother and sister. ..

I approach the walls of the mercenary stronghold, but I can’t bring myself to enter.

The colorful flags are like a knife to the heart—they remind me of the bodies that littered the battlefield after we liberated the Threst. And among those banners is a flag of my own making, a symbol of my accomplishments as much as my failures.

Instead of entering through the gate, I turn my back on the stronghold and ride toward the desert. There’s a place in the realms where I know I’ll find the answers I seek. I must go back to where it all started.

If I’d just joined Variant when I’d the chance, thousands of lives could have been spared.