may talk peaceably.”
“Peaceably?” Brighid sneered. “With a sword at my neck?”
“Touche. But this would not be necessary had you acted with restraint. I ask you politely once more: Will you put out the fires?”
“What’s next? Torture if I refuse?”
“No, I’m not the Inquisition. I will find other means to put them out if you will not.” Fragarach could not compel her to act; it could only compel answers. I had a fire extinguisher in the garage, and I’d have to drag her there and back if she didn’t agree.
The goddess of fire grimaced but focused on something behind me and growled in Irish, “Muchaim.” Then she focused on me and said, “It is done.”
Is it done? I asked Oberon.
‹Yep, she snuffed them.›
“Of course I did,” Brighid said, reminding us that she could hear Oberon.
“Thank you.” I nodded, as smoke roiled near the ceiling. “Let’s be seated, shall we?” I moved the sword slowly, allowing Brighid to shuffle in an undignified way to a chair at the kitchen table, then lowered it by degrees until she was able to sit down. I took a seat across from her, moving her ale out of the way.
“Excellent. Now let’s review what happened here, shall we? You showed up uninvited and I welcomed you in. I offered you refreshment and you accepted. You made a proposal to me and I said I would think about it. You ripped off my shirt and then tried to kill me. Now I ask you, which part of that sequence of events breaks every law of hospitality known to our race?”
“You left out the part where you fornicated with the Morrigan.”
“Not while you were here. Answer my question.”
Sullenly, Brighid said, “The part where I ripped off your shirt was a minor breach of hospitality.”
“We are making excellent progress,” I enthused. “How about the part where you tried to kill me? Was that not also poor conduct for a guest?”
“Yes-strictly speaking. But you gave me cause!”
“No, Brighid, I did not. If I had agreed to be your consort first and then fornicated with the Morrigan in front of you with Def Leppard on the stereo, then that would have been cause to incinerate me on the spot. But I am a free man and I gave you no such cause. And beyond that, I cannot fathom why you’d react like a jilted high school girl. This wasn’t done out of jealousy, was it?”
“No,” Brighid said. “I was not motivated by jealousy.”
“I thought not. And did you propose that I become your consort out of any true affection for me?”
“No.”
“Of course not. Before we get to the real reason you asked me to be your consort, I would like to address your accusation. If I were truly ‘the Morrigan’s creature,’ as you put it, then I could have killed you already, and indeed I should have and would have. We would not be talking right now if I were beholden to her will or if I were part of some evil plot to usurp you.”
“Then what is between you?” Brighid asked.
“She regenerated my ear for me,” I said, flicking the lobe. “Sex magic.”
Brighid flinched. “I did not know you had lost it. No one told me.”
“Yep. I lost it in the Superstition Mountains when I was killing Aenghus Og for you. Speaking of which, did you tell Flidais to kidnap Oberon to make sure I showed up?”
The goddess sighed. “Yes.”
‹Grr. You know, you’re not as nice as I originally thought.›
“I couldn’t agree more, Oberon,” I said. “Brighid, I want you to think a moment about what you have done here. I am the last man on this plane who worships you in the old way. I gave you full rites on Samhain just a few nights ago.”
“Yes, but you gave them to the Morrigan too.”
“As I should! And to Ogma. And to Manannan Mac Lir and all the rest. For they are my gods, as you are. And now to be served thus, after millennia of faith in your goodness and beauty and purity of spirit-and for what? Let’s have that answer now. Why did you truly want me to be your consort?”
“I want the secret of your amulet. I can study it better in Tir na nOg.”
“Is that your sole motivation?”
“No. It would thwart the Morrigan.”
“Thwart her how? That’s more important to you, isn’t it?”
“Yes. She wishes to be supreme in Tir na nOg, and she is using you to make it happen.”
“You are no better,” I pointed out. “You wish to be supreme, and you would use me the same way. I’m disgusted with you both. And you know what really chaps my hide here?”
‹Testify!›
“It’s that you’ve come down so dramatically from your pedestal. I can’t even have a proper crisis of faith and vacillate between the image of perfection and my shattered illusions, because you’ve left no doubt that there is nothing divine about your nature. Do you not see how you have debased yourself, or do you persist in thinking that you acted justly in trying to kill me? Wait-don’t answer that yet.” An inconsistency demanded resolution. “Why did you try to kill me with fire?”
Brighid shrugged. “Usually it gets the job done.” This admission-made under a spell that brooked no deceit- told me that Brighid still knew nothing about my deal with the Morrigan, or she wouldn’t have even tried to kill me. Regardless, it was perplexing behavior.
“But you expressly knew that my amulet protects me from most magic,” I said. “Did you forget that?”
“No. I just didn’t think it would prove strong enough to stand against me.”
“Ah, you thought your magic was stronger than mine.”
“Yes.”
“When mortals take excessive pride in their abilities, it’s called hubris. I don’t think there’s a word for when immortals do the same.” She regarded me stonily, unrepentant. “So. What will you do when I release you from Fragarach?”
She really didn’t want to answer this one, and I had to wait until the spell forced her to comply. “I will tear the amulet from your neck and then set you on fire once you are unprotected.”
‹What? Where’s the gravy?›
I sighed. She wouldn’t be able to tear the amulet from me, but that didn’t matter as much as her stated intentions. “Well, that puts us in a very awkward position, doesn’t it? I’d rather that both of us lived and found some way to part amicably. Tell me, Brighid, why do you feel I deserve to die?”
“I still think you’re the Morrigan’s man. And you humiliated me.”
“I’m not the Morrigan’s anything. I am my own man. And any humiliation you feel is justly deserved, because you have behaved inexcusably. We’ve already established that it was your actions, not mine, that breached hospitality. You’re behaving like a petulant child and not taking responsibility for your actions, like one of the blasted Olympians. And I would like to point out that you have not suffered publicly. No one knows what you have done. It can remain our secret, and I think that this is a breach we can mend. What say you? Are you willing to negotiate a peace, or are you resolved that I must die for imagined offenses?”
“Release me and I will negotiate with you.”
I laughed at her. “I wasn’t born yesterday, as the people here are fond of saying. For perhaps a short time you will negotiate. After that, you will try to kill me, correct?”
Brighid gritted her teeth, frustrated that I had seen through her “truth” so easily.
“Yes,” she admitted, after trying in vain to resist answering.
“I thought as much. So, you see, I must keep you under this spell to ensure you negotiate in good faith.”
“I have no such assurance from you.”
“Well, I haven’t killed you yet when you’ve given me ample cause; I’ve never broken hospitality with you; and I’ve remained faithful to you for over two thousand years. I don’t think you should be questioning my moral character right now. You cannot say any of those things to me. You have behaved rashly, even stupidly, Brighid, because you fear the Morrigan is out to get you, and if I had behaved with the same lack of restraint, you’d be dead and the Morrigan would already be First among the Fae. And it can still turn out that way.” I leaned forward and
