Morrigan by Jonathan King (cat reading book txt) 📕

Cora’s eyes widened, and for a second, Morrigan could have sworn she saw tears. Then the older woman’s face hardened.

“Baby, I love you, but you don’t get to talk to me like that.” Cora nodded at Abel’s corpse. “Remember what the bastard said about honoring your mother?”

The memories rushed back: the remark about Abel being a trained dog, her disappointment at the pub, every time she’d ever belittled him or gotten mad at him or made him feel less. Another soul she’d failed, only this one had a name and a face and a pair of nearsighted brown eyes that would haunt her through eternity.

Morrigan surged forward with a cry, but Cora opened her mouth wider than any human being ever should. A spout of green flames shot from deep in her throat, igniting the carpet, the pews, and the ceiling.

“I’m sorry, Morgan, but this is for your own good,” said Cora, cracking her jaw back into place. “Honestly, it should be embarrassing that you have to be put in timeout at your age.”

The blaze swept through the church with supernatural speed, blocking off every exit. Morrigan wasn’t worried for her own safety; she’d survived worse fires than this. But the flames were already rushing toward Abel’s body, and that would be one desecration too many. She flung herself over him, shielding him as best she could. Smoke stung her eyes, and she could feel the heat scorching her skin. The searing breeze bore the taste of poison, but she clung to Abel all the tighter.

Then there was a whirling roar, and the fire spiraled away from the church’s charred remains, leaving the two teens untouched. Opening her eyes, Morrigan saw a figure standing in the doorway, hands raised and directing the flames out into the atmosphere.

When the last trace of green fire was gone, Brigid slumped against the blackened doorpost. She mopped her forehead, leaving a trail of soot. “Gods preserve me, but that was the toughest blaze I’ve ever handled. Something deathly wrong with those flames.”

“That would be me,” said Cora.

Brigid’s eyes narrowed. “Let me guess; you’re the witch who kidnapped our Morrigan.”

“Not just a witch, Hon,” said Cora.

“We should kill you now,” said Brigid. “Then Morrigan and Abel would finally be safe.”

Cora glanced at Morrigan, still hunched over Abel’s corpse. “Yeah, about that…”

Brigid followed Cora’s gaze, and then she gasped. “Oh no.” Tears brimmed in her eyes … but smoldering anger turned them to little steam clouds when she looked at Cora.

“What is it with people and that boy?” Cora sighed. “Fine. You wanna kill me for it, you’re welcome to try.” She threw her arms wide open.

Brigid stepped forward, but before she could strike, the wail of distant sirens caught their attention.

Cora rolled her eyes. “Goddamn it. I don’t have time for this. I’ve got to be at the cemetery by moonrise.” She looked at Morgan. “Look, maybe I overreacted. Maybe you’ve got a right to be angry. But come find me when you’ve had some time to think things over. You’ll see that I only did this for you.” She let off a burst of poisoned fire in Brigid’s direction and darted past her and out the front door. There was a roar and a whoosh and she was gone.

Before anyone could say anything, Mac puffed his way up the steps. “They just flew away! Four of them, in a burst of green fire. The Dullahan, the vampire, and a lady and a man I didn’t recognize. Couldn’t stop them in time.” He cast a teasing glare at Morrigan. “And you better have a damn good explanation why my truck is smashed up. I didn’t put a tracker on it to find it in that condition—”

“Mac,” Brigid said gently.

“What?” Then Mac spotted Abel, and he dropped to his knees.

“You have to help him,” Morrigan said. “Breej, you’re a healer. Heal him.”

Brigid shuffled down the aisle and placed a hand on Abel’s face. “He’s gone, Morrigan. There’s nothing I can do for him now.”

“Don’t say that!” Morrigan shouted. “There has to be a way. After everything she’s taken from me, I can’t lose him too.”

“I’m sorry, lass, but you’ve lost him already,” said Mac, blinking away tears. “You know what you have to do.”

Morrigan looked down at Abel’s face and shook her head. “No, I can’t.”

“You’re sworn to help all the dead and dying find their rest,” said Brigid. “That includes Abel. You have to help him into the next life.”

“No!” Morrigan cried. “I won’t do it.”

“This is your only chance to say goodbye,” said Mac, “to end on a good note.”

“I don’t want it to end at all,” said Morrigan. “I know that’s selfish, but I don’t care. Can’t I have one person I don’t have to say goodbye to?”

“No one can,” said Brigid, looking at Mac. “No one knows that better than us.”

“I know losing him hurts,” said Mac, rising to stand beside the war goddess, “but what’s worse? Losing him to eternal rest and a fond goodbye, or letting him lose himself between the planes and end up a phantom for the rest of his days?”

Morrigan pressed her face to Abel’s chest. She hated it, but Mac was right. Death wasn’t the worst fate that could befall someone, and Abel needed a guide right now. “It’s not fair.”

Brigid squeezed her shoulder. “No, love, it’s not.”

Morrigan had seen a thousand battles, and over the years she’d thought her tears had dried up. But now, as she clutched this boy she’d only known a few days but who already held such a large piece of her heart, the boy who never failed to surprise her, who challenged her to be her best self, the boy she was supposed to protect—now the tears were back, flowing like a river in flood season.

They stayed there for a good few minutes, not saying a word, letting Morrigan grieve. And then Mac began to sing.

“Our anchors we’ll weigh and our sails we will set

Goodbye, fare