I started to rise, ready to surrender and end this before my friends were dead. But Poe, the big raven, fluttered in for a landing, hopping toward me and tilting its head.
“Poe! For the love of Morrigan, can’t you do something?”
Another caw. Then I hear his voice. “Use your head. Look within you. See what the Morrigan has already given you.”
I swear to fuck all this vague, cryptic bullshit was going to be the death of me. I stood up and closed my eyes, ‘looking within’ once again. With all the concentration I could muster, I tried to focus ‘inside’, tried to shut out the horrible din of battle, the cries of the wounded, the clashing of swords…
Swords? Just a fucking minute. Dub and my guys aren’t using swords.
That’s when I noticed the pendant, growing warmer and warmer, the heat sending a glowing power into my chest, and all through my body.
I’ve been through all this before… clashing swords, shouting of the injured and dying, the thick, coppery scent of blood. The vision of a woman, a warrior in black armor, walking barefoot amongst the dead, as the ravens feast. Her right hand grips a bloodied sword…
Opening my mind’s eye I realized, I am inside myself. There is a wooden table before me. Again. Laid across it are rows of weapons - bows and arrows, long swords, sabers, cutlasses, dirks, knives, daggers. Battle axes. Maces. Morning stars. Pikes. Clubs. Spears. All ready to be used, waiting to cut into flesh...
As I reached for a weapon, my eyes flew open, with the boom of a loud explosion. My hand felt heavy, and I looked at the short sword from my mental arsenal in my hand. “Woah,” I said out loud, as I swung the sword around like Xena, the warrior princess.
“Of all the things you had before you, you grabbed a dirk?” Poe said.
“What did you just call me?”
“Might as well arm yourself with a pocket knife,” Poe grumbled, and flew up to a branch.
I hefted the razor-sharp blade, and saw it gleam in the moonlight. Fuck yourself, bird-brain. I love the dirk. It’s elegant.
I looked back toward the guys. They were all hurt, cut and bleeding, and growing tired. Dub, on the other hand, had barely broken a sweat. I sensed my little flame app, and accepted the magic flowing out of the sword and into my body. I felt my strength surged, and with it, a feeling of incredible speed and dexterity awakened muscles I didn’t know I had. Even my vision was sharper, clearer, keener.
I crept around behind Dub, my movement so swift and stealthy he didn’t see me. My guys saw me, but avoided looking right at me, careful not to give away my position. Preparing to strike, I felt my necklace warm around my neck, and I heard hundreds of voices chanting at once...
Daughter of Morrigan, hear our voice
We grant you our power, for it is our choice
follow your heart, and do what you must
right the wrongs that have been unjust
I swung my sword and sliced a hole in the back of Dubs jacket. “Surprise, bitch,” I said as he whirled around. He pulled out the long dagger strapped to his leg, expecting his swing to cut deep, but all he hit was my steel. Our blades clashed and clanged in a fury. Brann wanted to jump in to help me, but I checked them all with a pulse of energy, which sent all four of the guys sliding back, out of harm’s way.
“Where the fuck did she find a sword?” Brann asked.
“Well, it’s better than talking to a bird,” Keegan smiled, as he called to me. “Cut his nuts off, lassie!”
“If I can find any!” I yelled back. Dub was bleeding from ten places, and his leather coat had so many slashes it looked like fringe. I let the magic flow, and memories from my ancestors’ battles past flooded my system. I wielded my sword like one badass warrior. Slash! Swing! Block! Slice! Stab! I ducked and rolled like the goddess of war herself.
“Where did she learn how to fight like that?” Brann asked.
“Hell if I know,” Keegan said. “She trips over most everything.”
Weylyn glanced over at Orin. “I’m sure it wasn’t from any of your lessons!”
“I heard that!” I yelled, as I barely avoided the tip of Dub’s knife. “Stop distracting me, you bozos!” I jerked back, and then planted a Spartan Kick in Dub’s belly, sending him flying back a few feet.
“Don’t distract her” Orin bit out through clenched teeth, as the guys let out a collective grunt.
As Dub staggered to gain his balance, my eyes widened. I savored the sight of his blood dripping from several gaping wounds.
“You killed my grandmother,” I said calmly. Then a blast of rage surged from me, a wave of power like the concussive blast of dynamite. It knocked Dub down flat again as I walked toward him.
“And my mother!” Another bone-breaking pulse slammed Dub, making him groan and roll back.
Pulse! He screamed in agony.
Pulse! He’s knocked flat again.
The guys walked up to me, Keegan and Weylyn on my left, Brann and Orin on my right.
Pulse! He shrieked like a girl, and I smiled.
“And now you come to my house?” I screamed.
Pulse!
“You try to kill me?”
Pulse!
Bloody and defeated, Dub dragged himself to his hands and knees. He tried to scrabble away in a crippled crablike crawl. “Please,” he croaks, “Stop, please…”
“You attack my friends?”
Pulse! Pulse! Pulse! Pulse!
His wails would terrify the Devil himself.
“Keira?” Brann put a hand on my shoulder. “Maybe that’s enough of that, eh?”
“You’re right,” I said flatly. I flipped my sword in my hand, Dub’s blood-crusted eyes on the gleaming blade.
