“So you don’t hate my ancestor,” Keira said weakly.
At the sound of her voice, I sprang to my feet in joy. Keira and Weylyn walked over to where we are sitting. The Donn sat up a bit straighter and smiled at Keira. “No. I do not. I owe my life to the Morrigan. Now, it seems I owe you a debt too, dear girl. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” She plopped down next to me, “…but you owe me nothing.”
“You said that you weren’t able to leave Tech Duinn,” Weylyn asked. “How did the brothers kidnap you?”
I gently pull Keira into my lap needing to feel her warmth, she snuggles into me as I wrap my arms around her.
“They took one of the boats of Manannán. He ferries the souls over to Tech Duinn. The instant they appeared, I knew something was wrong. They burst into my house with some sort of ancient magic and knocked me out. Next thing I knew, I was their prisoner in some dungeon.” The Donn was visibly angry. “Believe it or not, I’m more powerful than I look. However, being away from my home, I’ve lost most of it. I know I am slowly fading away.”
“How can I help?” Keira asked.
The Donn lets out a small laugh. “I’m afraid you cannot. I don’t think you are powerful enough to send me back to Tech Duinn.”
“She is more powerful than you think,” I tell the old man.
“I have no doubt that one day her power will rival the gods,” he nods. “It’s just not there yet.”
Keira let out a long sigh and turned her beautiful gray eyes toward me. “What now?”
Lycanthropy
- Keira -
“What now?” Orin repeated, looking at me like I was four pennies short of a nickel. “We get off this stupid fucking island in one piece.” Granted Orin didn’t have a way with words, or abstract ideas, actually. He was more of a concrete thinker, but he was always practical, and said what he meant in the most direct way possible. Yeah, we needed to get off this island. But first, we needed to regroup.
“Do you think the others are okay?” I asked.
“Well, I’m sure if anyone could handle those two, it would be Brann,” Weylyn said as he sipped on his water.
“It’s just… the thought of Keegan and Katie running around the island with nothing but Brann’s magic…” How much magic would he draw from this mystical place? And how much might it change him? Or me, for that matter…
“Keegan will keep Katie safe,” Weylyn said. “As much as those two get into their scrapping, they are both Fae. And Keegan knows how much Katie means to you, so don’t worry.”
“Besides,” Orin spoke up. “Keegan might not need much help. Magic wise.”
Keegan? I thought. “I seem to recall you two treating him like a candidate for the Magic Special Olympics.”
Weylyn smiles. “Not anymore.”
“Not since we set foot on this island, princess,” added Orin.
“Consider where we are,” the Donn counseled. “This is the very birthplace of Gods, after all. Where better to fill up on magic?”
Maybe he was right. Now that I was back on my feet, I realized that my whole being seemed to buzz with energy. It was intoxicating, maybe too intoxicating. Again, I thought of what Brann told me about the addictive power of dark magic, like his. Like my own. I was worried. “Should we go find them?”
“No,” Orin said with a shake of his head. “It was Brann’s idea to split up. Dub went after them after Keegan threw his ugly puss a few magical haymakers.”
“Keegan? Are you serious?”
“It was an unusual diversion, but it bought us some time to get you out of there, after your little episode.”
“Episode?” I repeat. “What episode?”
“Do you not remember?” the Donn asked.
“Shit, no,” I said. But… some strange images floated vaguely, just out of reach, foggy snatches of… what? “I just remember seeing… a bird…?”
“Omen. The Morrigan’s own familiar.”
“A great big fucker. Is that …”
The Donn was nodding. “Yes. A great black raven.”
“He flew in. I think he… did he land on my shoulder?”
“You remember now, princess?” Orin smiled.
“I… maybe? I’m not sure.” As I tried to bring it into focus, I reached out and absently touched my shoulder. “Owww! Jesus, is that my blood?”
“That it is,” Orin nodded. He looked closer, and frowned. “Aw, there she goes. Got it bleeding again.” Orin grabs my shirt and rips off my right sleeve. When I see the gory talon marks in my shoulder, and the dried blood down my arm, I felt a mild wave of nausea. Orin pulled one of his own shirts from his bag, and ripped it into strips. He opened a fresh bottle of water, and began to clean my shoulder and dress my wound. “I was wondering why it hurt,” I mumbled.
“It seems the Morrigan had a message to deliver.” Weylyn said.
The Donn nodded. “She sent her familiar, and used you as a conduit.”
“What kind of message?” A heavy feeling settled in my stomach.
“A message of death,” the Donn mentioned, as if that were nothing. “Someone’s going to die.”
“For fuck’s sake, don’t scare her,” Weylyn said.
“Whose death?” I asked.
A moment passes where neither the twins nor the Donn answers. “Whose death?” I repeat, this time my voice wavers.
“I do not know little bird,” the Donn said. “It wasn’t directed at anyone in particular. But know this. When the Morrigan calls for death?” His nod was ominous. “Death she will have.”
I don’t know if it was fear that started to bubble up inside of me, or a hot burning anger at the possible death of one of my
