Beyond a Darkened Shore(68)
As I drifted off to sleep, I thought, Maybe I already have.
The dream stole upon me with such vivid imagery I knew it was more than just a dream.
I stood in the hall of the ruins of a great castle. Stars shone clearly overhead through a massive hole in the ceiling; roots pushed their way up through the stones of the floor, leaving cracks in their wake; hundreds of vines wrapped around the stone staircase before me.
Dark mist poured in, flowing around me like silk. If I stared long enough, I could just make out the form of a woman. Suddenly, the destroyed room was filled with crows. Their black feathers fell to the floor, solidifying into the figure of a woman who remained hidden in the shadows of the great hall. “You know the truth of your birth now,” the Morrigan said.
“Yes,” I said, my hands curling into fists at my side. “Though I’m still not sure why you went to such an effort.”
“We are not without our own seers, and we knew of the giants’ plans long before they stirred from their realm. I refused to stand aside and watch them destroy the land that was once mine. I may be too weak to battle with these monsters, but I could create someone who could. Your father’s bloodline gave me the perfect warrior. You.”
Confusion slowed my reaction. “His bloodline?”
The dark mist swirled until a vision of a woman in gauzy white robes stretched her arms out to the sun as it rose, the pale yellow rays bathing her in its light. The moment it touched her, the gorge behind her was illuminated, and other priestesses in white robes moved toward the light.
“Your ancestors the druids once lived and worshipped alongside the Tuatha Dé Danann, harnessing the power of nature to give them abilities beyond that of mere mortals: the gift of healing, the gift of sight, and the ability to travel between realms.” Her eerie gaze, dark and fathomless, fell upon me. “The druids have died out just as the Tuatha have been driven out of the mortal realm, but traces of their bloodlines, though rare, remain. Your father carried one of their oldest bloodlines, and it gave him the potential for great power. Power that was lying dormant, waiting for immortal blood to awaken it. Together, we made a powerful weapon.”
One born for it, the Morrigan had said when she’d first appeared to me.
“Why? Why would you create me? You knew the monster you’d send to the world.”
She smiled, but the gesture was one of cunning rather than benevolence. “I needed a warrior with the power of the ancients. I cared nothing for the price.”
My head ached with the dissonance of the faith I had always believed in, and the truth that I could no longer deny.
“The new god’s influence is spreading, but the old gods live on,” she said. “I would do anything to protect this land. Seduce a pitiful king, bear a child and allow her to be raised by foolish mortals who know nothing of the old ways, even join forces with gods from the north.”
I thought of the way the Morrigan had appeared alongside the ravens in the Faerie Tunnel—the ravens who had turned out to be the Valkyrie. My eyes widened. “Do you mean the Valkyrie? You joined—”
“The Valkyrie are but messengers for the more powerful gods of the north. They chose their own warrior to right the mistakes made by their gods, and it was I who led him to your doorstep.”
She looked completely unrepentant that in leading Leif to me, many of my clansmen had died in the ensuing battle with Leif’s men. It made me feel sick, like I was partly to blame, even if I hadn’t been consciously aware of my part in bringing them to our shores.
But it also brought me Leif. The thought whispered through my mind, and I couldn’t deny how thankful I was for it.
“So you came to me in a dream to gloat about how you manipulated my father and bent others to your will?”
“I came to warn you,” she said, bringing forth a vision of Leif battling j?tnar with all his strength. “Unlike your power, which you were born with, the Northman’s was bestowed upon him as a gift from the gods, but it doesn’t make him invincible. You will soon sail north, and once you arrive on the Northmen’s shores, you will lose all access to the realm of the Tuatha Dé Danann. There are other ancient beings who guard those shores, and I cannot cross them. You may find yourself without allies in the end. You have to be strong enough.
“Your only hope will be to master your abilities before you arrive. Become the warrior queen you were meant to be.” The mist transformed into rippling ink-black feathers. “Do not fail.” With a caw, she completed her transformation into a crow and took flight.
The march to Dubhlinn wasn’t long, but it was long enough to torture me with thoughts of the Morrigan’s words. It seemed especially ominous that she’d said Leif wasn’t invincible. I kept sending him worried glances, but he was lost in his own thoughts, no doubt anxious to return to Arin and his men. The apprehension seemed to spread through Leif and me, until we became almost desperate to arrive. I was queen now, yet there was no time to formally take the city, nor to decide what would be done with Sigtrygg’s wife and family. His wife was a Celt, I knew, so she might have fled to her father, the High King. I thought of my own mother, refusing to leave, refusing to even bury the remains of her husband. I doubted Sigtrygg’s wife would be as devoted—not many in arranged marriages were. Still, with the High King behind her, Sigtrygg’s wife could pose a problem I wasn’t prepared to handle.