Ghalien: A Novel of the Otherworld Read online

  The Morrigan sighed again and rolled her eyes toward the tall ceiling of the cave. "Really Caedehn, I would think you were smarter than that." She leveled her crimson gaze on me, her lips drawn in a jagged line, just short of a grimace. "Why take the time to raise you when I could get someone else to do it for me?"

  My muscles relaxed a fraction and an image of my sister flashed through my mind. The Morrigan had abandoned me, but she had made sure Enorah found me. Of course, that had all been part of her plan as well.

  No, I hadn't been the only one to suffer as a result of my mother's greed and malice. Although this meeting was about me, the conversation had led to another sore subject. Against my own better judgment I heard myself whisper, "You should have never brought Enorah into this."

  "Oh, but she proved so useful in the end, didn't she now?"

  "You used her love for me against her," I spat, my eyes burning with anger as I turned my heated gaze once again on my mother, "you destroyed part of her soul, turned her into a murderer!"

  "Yes," the Morrigan sighed as she tapped one slender finger against her chin, as if mourning the loss of a favorite pet. "Enorah was my best assassin, second in Eile only to Donn's whelp. And it is because of you she became that way."

  The rage of my battle fury rose once again, and with it something else, something even more profound and more destabilizing than my glamour: sorrow. Soul-deep sorrow, the kind of anguish that turned my bones to liquid and blinded me to all that surrounded me, roaring through my head as it tore my heart asunder.

  "Hmmm," the Morrigan continued as if I hadn't just been crushed by the guilt I tried so hard to keep buried deep inside of me, "she was so gifted, so obedient. Never once failed to follow through with a mission, until that final one."

  I managed to find my voice, despite the roar of self-hatred in my head. "You sent her to kill children!" I rasped. "Of course she refused! And the only reason she ever allowed herself to be molded to your will was because of me!"

  A glint of pure malice flared red in the Morrigan's violet eyes. "That's right, Caedehn dearest. All those lives, all those Faelorehn men and women snuffed out, dead because of you. And no number of years spent wiping the noses of those filthy little Wildren will ever wash away the horror of what she has done."

  For a split second, I almost lost control again. "She was trying to protect me," I hissed, my shoulders beginning to shake as my knees threatened to buckle.

  "And I never would have caught her if it hadn't been for you, either. Tsk, tsk. What a typical, selfish little brother you were. Sneaking away from your foster-father."

  She laughed then, as if realizing something for the first time. "You know something odd? When I captured your sister, I still had no idea how you might be useful to me. You were so small and helpless, but I knew Enorah was also the spawn of Cuchulainn and I had already caught fleeting glimpses of her potential. To think, I might have had you both and we could have avoided all this unnecessary, emotional tug-of-war between the two of you. Really," she sighed heavily and dropped her hands to her hips, "first, Enorah suffering to protect you and now you, suffering to protect her. How exhausting!"

  Finally, I managed to regain some modicum of control. Time to change the subject.

  "But we're not here about Enorah, are we," I murmured. It was a statement, not a question, and it was meant to encourage her to get on with this torture session, so that I might get on with my day. That is, if I had the capacity to walk, or even crawl, once we were through.

  The Morrigan slowly turned and glared at me, the light of the fire casting ghostly shadows across the crimson and black walls of her cavern.

  "Oh no, my dear boy, we are here for some other woman you insist on suffering for. And since you are so eager to move on to that subject, why don't we start with you telling me more about this fae strayling of yours."

  "No," I growled, my fingers curling into fists, my fingernails cutting into my palms.

  A searing, invisible whip of magic lashed across my nerves, the pain and suddenness of the attack catching me off guard. I wanted to scream, but all I did was suck in a harsh breath.

  My mother crossed the space between us in all her horrific glory and came to stand mere inches away from me. I was taller than her, but when present before the goddess of war, even the great giants of myth stood cowering. But I wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

  "You have violated your geis by defying and disobeying me," she hissed, the little shred of patience she'd had before gone. "You will answer."

  No. I wouldn't. I owed a debt because of that accursed geis, but I would tell her nothing more about Meghan. She could fry me to death with her magic if she wanted to, but I would not yield.

  The Morrigan snarled and brought her arms up once again, invoking her strong glamour before throwing it out in another lash of agony. I had already been driven to my knees, but now I had to plant my hands on the rough stone floor to withstand the pain. This particular brand of glamour didn't burn up a lot of energy, but it did pack a punch. My mother could raise painful welts on my skin with her punishment without even touching me. Not even my cloak and shirt could protect me from her wrath.

  "The pain will end Caedehn, just tell me what makes this girl so special. What are her weaknesses? Her strengths?"

  I didn't answer. I had nothing else to say to her and my jaw was clamped too tightly against the burning onslaught of her magic.

  How long the Morrigan punished me, I cannot say for sure. At some point, I managed to block out the pain and torment of her words. When it finally occurred to me that the ordeal was over, I found myself curled up on the damp, icy floor of her cavern, one side of my face pressed against the stone. I blinked several times to get rid of the blurriness before the shaking set in.

  "Very well," a cold voice whispered next to my ear.

  I flinched and curled up even tighter, the shame of my weakness taunting my own glamour. The only reason I can think that my riastrad hadn't reared its ugly head is because of how drained I was. Normally, my glamour took control when my body thought it was dying, but in this case my instinct stayed put.

  "I can see you are not going to yield, so a compromise must be in order."

  I turned my head just enough to look at my mother. Her expression was sour and filled with disgust. Whether that emotion was aimed at me, or at the fact that she would be forced to negotiate, was up for debate.

  The Morrigan stood and with a huff, marched back to her throne. Had I imagined it, or did she stumble a little while climbing up to her dais? My lips tugged up in a smile, but an aftershock of pain, my nerves still reeling from their ordeal, changed my grin to a grimace of shock. Looks like I wasn't going to be sitting up for a while . . .

  "I want you to take down the barriers you've built against me," she proclaimed, raising her voice so that it filled the entire room.

  What color had returned to my face now drained completely and the shivering that had taken over my body intensified.

  No.

  I hadn't realized I'd spoken the word aloud until the Morrigan said, "Yes, you will because if you don't, I will kill one member of that girl's mortal family each day until you do. I promised to leave her be if you continued to be my servant, but I said nothing about her family. Besides," she added as an afterthought, "you've used up all of your glamour trying to resist me, so I'm afraid it won't take much to shatter that bothersome barrier you put in place to keep me out."

  What little moisture left in my mouth evaporated and I felt myself choking again. She was right. Years ago, I had acquired a spell to keep my mother out of my head, the type of charm that could only be used once against someone with her degree of power, and it required a constant supply of my own glamour to remain in place. But now that I was nearly drained of that glamour, all she had to do was prod it just a little and then . . .

  The goddess lifted her arms once more, her chant slowly filling the cavern like a foul smell. I didn't have time to let the panic consume me
, so instead I gathered what little glamour I had left and concentrated on another spell. The Morrigan was determined to bring down my resistance, and she would succeed. I was also pretty sure I knew what information she would be after the most: anything pertaining to Meghan.

  Very well, I thought, gritting my teeth against the lingering pain her magic had caused, force your way into my thoughts if you must, but you won't get anything about Meghan. Instead of using my magic to continue the fight, I turned it toward another cause; another spell Enorah had taught me long ago.

  Taking a deep breath, I dredged up the words my sister had given me. As the Morrigan wormed her way into my consciousness, I muttered the spell under my breath, my heart pounding against my ribcage as the time dragged on. Only when I saw the little spider taking up residence in the dark recess of my mind did I take a breath and allow myself to collapse back against the floor.

  The first wave of dark magic slammed into my mind, forcing a hairline fracture to zigzag its way across the shield that had been in place for so many long years. My eyes rolled back and I sucked in a deep breath against the pain, but I didn't let those words of magic leave my mind. Another wave hit me, then another, as my mother continued her relentless and cruel onslaught. Despite the fact that I could feel the black world of unconsciousness rolling over me, I sucked in another breath and muttered the words of the ancient spell over and over again.

  "What's this? Are you sniveling like a child? Too late Caedehn, and no amount of pleading will save you from my intent!"

  I ignored her; let her cruel words pour right over me. She couldn't do any more damage than she'd already done and besides, I could already see in my mind that little spider frantically spinning a web and gathering up all my thoughts pertaining to Meghan. I felt my lips curve up in a small smile and only when the web was complete and the spider solid and fully formed did I breathe a sigh of relief and finish my spell. At the same time the Morrigan let out a crow of victory as the magical shield that had kept her out of my head for so many years shattered.

  "And now, I shall know what you refuse to tell me," my mother cried, the magic of her spell still swirling around us like a polluted whirlwind.

  All I could do was lay there on the cold stone floor of the cavern, too weak and in too much pain to fight back. But it didn't matter. Even as I felt the tendrils of her mind reaching into mine and prodding around, I wasn't worried.

  Such a keen mind you have my boy, but even you are not clever enough to hide all of that strayling's secrets from me . . .

  With the reference to Meghan, and me being in such a weakened state, an image of her face immediately splayed across my conscious like a movie scene from the mortal world. The Morrigan squealed in delight, reaching toward the memory like an eager child reaching for a toy. Just as her conscious was about to latch on to all my thoughts regarding Meghan, that small magical spider stretched out its legs and snatched those memories up. The Morrigan shrieked in anger when she realized what had happened. She closed the distance between us and kicked me in the ribs.

  "How do you know that spell!?" she screamed.

  I grunted and rolled away from her before answering. "My sister and I are very close," I wheezed. "She was well aware of the cruelty you were capable of before I could learn of it, and she made sure to teach me everything she could, so that I might protect myself."

  The Morrigan's eyes blazed red and she just barely seemed to have a grasp of her fury. The cavern began to rumble as if it were the throat of a dragon preparing to spew fire. A stalactite or two broke loose from the ceiling, crashing down to the floor and splintering into a thousand pieces, causing her Cumorrig to yelp and leap from their place beside the fire. Fortunately, none of the shards hit me. Just as I was sure the Morrigan was going to release the brunt of her power, the rumbling stopped and the fire receded from her eyes. I didn't know what was worse, the wild rage that had caused such turmoil, or the icy silence that followed.

  With a great sigh and an exaggerated brush of her skirts, my mother stepped over me and moved to stand beside the entrance to her underground chamber.

  "Very well, Caedehn. You can keep your little Meghan's secrets safe, but that won't keep me out of your head."

  Eventually you'll break my dear boy, and I shall relish the process, she whispered into my mind.

  My teeth clenched in response to the icy, uncomfortable feeling of her shil-sciar words.

  "You are free to go, so please get your pathetic self out of my sight."

  With that, she turned and strode back to her stone throne. Not wanting to tempt her into abusing me further, I began to drag myself across the cold, rough floor. Yes, the aftermath of her magical lashing seared my skin anew with every movement I made, and yes, I was the pathetic heap of flesh she implied, but I did not want to linger. Eventually, I made it to the archway and slowly crept up the stairs, wincing and sweating against the effort. Somehow, I managed to get to my feet after that and a century or so later, I was standing in the open air, my sweat-stained face aimed toward the sky. I kept my eyes closed because the weak sunlight filtering through the thick clouds only made my head pound worse. I had never been so grateful to feel the frosty air of the Morrigan's realm before.

  Getting through the narrow canyon proved detrimental to my already flagging health, but I overcame that obstacle as well. Speirling waited for me beside a clump of half dead bushes, his eyes wide, his ears pricked forward and his stance wary. Once he realized that the beaten creature limping toward him was his master, he eased up and greeted me with a familiar but light whicker. I murmured a few words of thanks to him in the language of my ancestors and pulled myself up onto his back.

  Speirling carried me across the rocky earth, his footsteps as swift as the treacherous terrain would allow him to go. We were only a few dozen yards from the dolmarehn when a vivid image of Meghan, her face bruised and bloody, slammed into my conscious. In my mind, she cried out in pain, begging for my help as the Morrigan gave her the same treatment she had given me. I gasped and nearly fell off of Speirling. Lucky for me, he registered my sudden shift and made up for it by slowing down. The black stallion whinnied with concern as I gritted my teeth against the vision.

  In the back of my mind, I could hear the Morrigan snickering. Oh Caedehn my boy, this is only the beginning . . . just the beginning.

  We passed through the dolmarehn, the Morrigan's shil-sciar voice mocking me the entire way. Fortunately, the magic that carried us away from her domain broke the link and the horrible picture of Meghan suffering was thrown from my mind.

  It's only a matter of time before she does that again, my conscience told me.

  Sadly, I knew that internal voice was right, and not only that, I was certain whatever thoughts and images the Morrigan sent would only get worse.

  Three

  Sanctuary

  Speirling carried me all the way to Luathara and into the courtyard where I fell from his back in an ungraceful heap. He whickered lightly, as if to remind me that a great warrior such as myself should have a little more dignity. I grunted and embraced the smooth cobblestones just outside my somewhat ruined castle, relishing their cool, familiar comfort. He was right, of course, but at the moment, I didn't have the energy to care. I lay there for the gods know how long, drifting in and out of consciousness. Only when Fergus's internal voice invaded my mind did I stir.

  Caedehn, are you unwell?

  Ah, the polite concern of my spirit guide, another welcome balm to my soul.

  I just returned from my visit with the Morrigan. It didn't go very well.

  I see. Do I need to return?

  That awful image of Meghan flashed through my mind once again, this time without the aid of the Morrigan. I grimaced and pushed myself up into a sitting position. Time to stop being pathetic.

  No, stay and watch over Meghan. How is she?

  Very well, though I think she misses you. She often glances off into the swamp when she doesn't think I'm around and gets that
same look on her face that you get when you are thinking about her.

  A small fire blossomed in my heart and spread throughout my whole body. I smiled, though it hurt, and allowed myself to believe Meghan cared for me the way I cared for her. My moment of bliss only lasted for a split second before another attack of my mother's punishment hit me like a clap of thunder.

  What must you be thinking about to make your thoughts so warm my dear Caedehn? Could it have something to do with that little strayling I'm going to destroy? It would be in your best interest to forget about her now because you will never have her.

  I shook my head to get my mother's voice out of it, but it didn't help much. I could still hear her muttering in the darkest recesses of my mind. So this is what it feels like to go crazy, I thought bitterly. How I will hold onto my sanity from this point on, I have no idea.

  Caedehn? Fergus prompted.

  Sorry, I sent back to him, my mind straining to reach him in the mortal world. The Morrigan has decided to reinstate shil-sciar with me. It is her way of tormenting me for breaking my geis.

  Fergus's mental growl didn't do anything to help my headache. He could remember when, long ago, the Morrigan had been able to whisper her words and thoughts into my head and the toll it had taken on me.

  I shall return to be by your side, he insisted.

  No, you must stay with Meghan. I cannot risk leaving her unguarded with the Morrigan ready to harm her at a moment's notice. Please Fergus, I promise I'll be well enough on my own.

  Fine, my spirit guide said, but do not stay at Luathara alone. Go seek refuge in the Weald. At least until you are healed. I can sense your injuries are extensive.

  I sighed and leaned back against the stone steps leading into my castle. Fergus was right. It would do me good to visit my sister and allow the deep magic of the Weald to heal me. When I was well again, I could visit Meghan.