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MORRIGAN

The Threst

Fine silk brushes my cheek as I blink against the gray hue of light filtering through the opening of my tent. Variant is beside me, curled around me like ivy, and I press myself against the hardness poking my hip. His hands grip my waist and he rocks his pelvis into me. I smile in the muted glow of dawn, feeling his hand slide along the curve of my thigh. This vessel has already known his possession and yearns for it once more. Part of me wonders if Variant prefers this form over my true figure... and then I wonder if Abedon preferred another to me, as well.

But I shove those thoughts aside and pull away from the angel beside me. He grumbles something underneath his breath and rolls out of the tent. I tug my clothing back into place before I join him. Variant calls for his riders to pack up the camp as I wander through the bog. The waterlogged patches of grass beneath my bare feet squelch with each step. The air is tainted with dank must and the scent of fungi. There’s a dark creature who lurks here, and I intend to claim it as my own.

Water splashes and I peer out from the corner of my eye, catching just a subtle swish of tail before the surface ripples once more. I continue through the marshes, cutting through the fog with care so I don’t fall into the murky waters. Another flash of movement and I raise my hand as if to cast a spell. Great sadness fills my heart as I drop my hand to my side, useless without the magic that once coursed through my veins.

I reach for my sword instead, carved of pure gold and dotted with sapphires. Faint light twinkles off the tip of the blade and the creature who lives here stills in its movements, no doubt sensing danger.

“I heard your song in the night,” I explain. “You seek a rider who holds the same darkness in their heart that rests in your own. I come to offer you myself, for I know little else but vengeance.”

The sound of hooves trudging through the marsh catches my attention and I spin around, aiming my blade for the creature’s heart. Her large, pale eyes stare back at me, and a smile curls my lips. Tilting her head to the left, she regards me with caution. I sheath my blade and offer my hand. Her skin is pure white, slick with the same dew that clings to the blades of grass beneath my feet. Cold fingers rest in mine, but only for a second as the creature steps back and transforms, shifting into a black horse with a dripping mane.

A kelpie is quite rare after the war. I’m lucky to find one in the marshes that surround the Threst.

The kelpie lowers its head in a show of submission, and I circle around to mount the large beast. It tosses its mane and nickers as I click my tongue and urge it back toward the camp.

Variant’s eyes widen at the sight of the mystical creature. “You... captured one?”

“I didn’t have to. I think we’ve come to an understanding.”

“Not many have the courage to ride a kelpie, Morrigan.”

“I am not just anyone.” My tone is harsh, but it’s time for Variant to learn which of us is truly in charge. He eyes me with interest before climbing into the saddle of his own horse.

We ride side by side to the large dome at the heart of the marshes. The dome is made of pure crystal, held together by glistening silver that’s nearly invisible to the naked eye. It can only be seen when the sun has just barely begun to peek over the horizon, or if one dares to approach the army that lays beneath it.

Nearly four hundred orcs and demons guard the sphere, night and day.

“Your army is plentiful here, Variant,” I say. “I’m impressed.”

He shrugs. “I’m not Theren, I don’t spare any expense when it comes to safeguarding our resources,” he mutters. “It’s bad enough we have rebels fighting us on top of Eilish and her brutes,” he finishes. His eyes cut toward me with animosity. If I had even an ounce of power, I would have made him swallow his tongue for his insolence.

I ride toward the front gate and climb off the kelpie. She shifts into her female form and walks beside me into the Threst . One of the guards stands before me to block my entrance, clearly not recognizing me as the Midnight Queen. The kelpie’s eyes turn bright red and the guard drops to the ground, gurgling as he drowns on water summoned by my new companion. A kelpie’s loyalty is something earned through the darkness of one’s soul, and it’s everlasting.

I chuckle as we pass cages and cages of fae. A large door opens on Variant’s command and the artificer looks up from her workstation. The short, pudgy woman glances my way and hurries over with the talisman clutched in her thick fingers. I snatch it from her and feel the power within the artifact as it begins to match the pulse of my heart.

Finally!

This is the moment I have long been waiting for.

Variant moves to clasp the talisman behind my neck, but the kelpie beats him to it. Once the clasp is fastened, the power moves through me like a shockwave. The burst of dark, pilfered magic fills me. Tainted, succulent power.

Reaching deep into my soul, I summon my body to me. The Veil fights the connection, but I feel my vessel begin to crack and shatter around me like thick porcelain tapped with a hammer. It falls away like dust on the wind, and I stare into the reflective walls of the Threst.

“It’s good to be back. Now, we can begin our plans for Silvanus...”

***

DRAGAN

Mercenary Stronghold

Galmer leads me through a set of curtains where a gallery overlooks the entirety of the stronghold. I fight to keep the surprise from my face when I notice the sheer number of flags that represent the different clans.

“There must be legions of mercenaries here beneath each banner,” I say, despite my efforts to keep the awe from my voice. “I had once envisioned something similar for my own kind—for the gargoyles. We were prosperous before the war, but when I was... punished for rebelling against the false king, most of my people were killed or forced to guard his palace.”

“Where are the rest of you?” Galmer asks.

“Hopefully still in the Gorge. I don’t believe there are more than forty of us now, though, even if the Shadow Realm remains untouched by Variant. I can sense when another of us is lost.” My thoughts return to Thoradin and his spirit in the Veil. He seemed so at peace with his fate—I wish nothing but the same for the rest of my comrades.

“I hope you eventually find your people again,” Galmer says.

I nod but my people aren’t the subject of my thoughts at the moment. “You have hundreds of thousands of mercenaries at your command, and I’m certain those who dwell in the city would gladly fight for you. Why haven’t you attempted to take out Variant already?"

Galmer shakes his head and points to the market district. “They are tired of fighting. They come here for protection, honest work, and a chance at survival. Those who wish to fight are tested and united with a chieftain to further their skills. But our goal is to strike silently and carefully so we lessen the number of casualties.”

“How?”

“Our clans have infiltrated the ranks of Variant’s army—some of them watch over the precincts and the cities in the realms, and some transport refugees and resources back here. Everyone within these walls has a part to play,” Galmer explains. “Take a walk through the streets. Maybe, when you return, you’ll understand what I’m trying to accomplish.”

The centaur takes his leave. I walk along the gallery and vault over the railing, landing on my feet and feeling the ground tremble beneath my boots. No one stops to stare as I wander through the stronghold. No one here asks questions or passes judgment on those who walk the streets. Every species is equal, in a way. Even so, I can see the pain of their pasts as vividly as my own—warriors with scars on their faces and maidens with fatherless children. All are dressed in the dark colors of mourning to honor their loved ones.

My journey takes me to each corner of the stronghold. I observe fine blades crafted by the blacksmiths, smell the books at the library where the spellcaster guild meets, and purchase flowers for Eilish at the botanist’s shop where herbs hang in the window. Flowers because it’s time I ate my pride and apologized for the way I’ve been acting towards her. Yes, it hurt and angered me to learn that Baron and Pyre had her at the same time. At first I couldn’t understand my reaction—I already knew Baron was her lover and I had my suspicions about Pyre. So why did her news bother me so much? After reflection, I realized it was simply because I’d been left out in the cold. I didn’t like the fact that the two of them gave her so much pleasure while I was left to argue with Kolvar.

And once I realized it was purely jealousy that was guiding my actions, I felt beyond ashamed. And embarrassed.

The sun begins to set in the distance, and I feel the cool breeze against my cheek. On my way back to the others, I see the familiar sight of a stone beast—a guardian, a gargoyle—perched on the wall. The creature’s eyes flash before he leaps from the stronghold, wings spread as he swoops down to land in front of me.

“I never thought I’d see the King of Shadows in this place,” the gargoyle’s deep voice rumbles. He’s not one of mine. “After I heard of the raids on the Gorge, I figured you’d been slain with the others.”

The news of my home falling to Variant should surprise me, but it doesn’t. I’d expected such to be the case when I’d first left with Eilish and the others. I look down at the flowers in my hand and realize I can’t smell their sweet fragrance or bask in the glow of the setting sun any longer. Pain and loss roil within me and I struggle to meet the other male’s gaze.

“Where do you come from, brother?” I ask finally.

“My name is Myerdoth and I once served our maker.” His statement is short and curt, and I get the impression Myerdoth is a man of few words. “And before you ask of your army, they are no more. Only four gargoyles of your original forces remain. I don’t know their whereabouts.”

“So there are… six of us in all the realms…” My chest clenches tightly. “I thought more would have resisted, or maybe fled the Gorge before Variant could take command.”

Myerdoth simply shakes his head.

“My companions and I are on a mission,” I say, choosing to change the subject. I can’t think of the failure I am to my own kind. “We aim to stop Variant and all who conspire with him. I offer you a place with us.”

He seems like an honorable man, and I would regret not asking.

“I’ll consider it. But you should know... just because there are only six of us still living doesn’t mean it has to remain that way.”

“Explain.”

“There’s a way to create more of us… more gargoyles.”

I shake my head and frown at him. “What are you talking about?”

“A book once owned by my mistress. It’s known as the Stone Grimoire.”

“What is it?”

“A way to expand our numbers,” he answers and with that, Myerdoth takes to the sky, disappearing on the horizon.

I turn around and head back to the Hall of Clans where Eilish sits on the steps. A smile blooms on her face when she sees me, but the smile is quickly replaced with concern. No doubt she’s worried I’ll ignore her as I have been.

I hand her the flowers, loving the way they make her eyes light up. That faint glow that emits from her body shines in a sign of her pleasure. “These are for you… to say I’m sorry for being such an asshole.”

“Thank you, Dragan.”

“You’re welcome.” I watch her as she stands up and wraps her arms around me. I hold her tightly and kiss the top of her head.

“I know this isn’t easy for you,” she starts.

“It’s not, but I’m coming around.”

She pulls away from me and looks up at me, her eyes penetrating mine. “Then you still… want me?”

I’m shocked by her question. “Of course I still want you! I’ll always want you.”

She shakes her head. “Maybe I phrased it wrong,” she says and inhales deeply. “Do you still want to be with me, knowing what happened with Pyre and Baron?”

“Yes. I can’t not be with you.” I pause as I search for the right words. “I think all of us… need to talk. You, me, Baron and Pyre.”

“Why?”

“To map out how this all works,” I answer with a shrug. “If we have to share you, what does that look like? Do we have you separately or together?”

“I understand.”

“I… I didn’t like the idea of you with Pyre and Baron because… I wasn’t involved. I know it sounds completely idiotic but… I felt left out.”

She smiles up at me and squeezes me tightly. “I don’t want you to feel that way, Dragan.”

I chuckle down at her. “Don’t worry—you’ll make it up to me later.”

Her smile broadens. “I will?”

“Oh, yes, you will.” I take a big breath as my thoughts turn to other subjects. “And in other news, you won’t believe what just happened to me.”

“What?”

“There’s another gargoyle here. His name is Myerdoth and he says more of my kind… more gargoyles can be made if we locate something called the Stone Grimoire.” The excitement in my voice is evident but it fades as I recall the rest of my conversation with Myerdoth. “Variant has taken the Gorge. Only four of my unit remain.”

My voice breaks. Eilish holds me closely and I lean into her, loving the feel of her warmth. “I’m sorry, Dragan,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

Kolvar appears at our side. “The clan leaders have arrived.”