Page 235 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
The third goddess stood to Danu’s right. She was much saucier, though no less beautiful. She had gleaming, walnut skin and prominent cheekbones, round and regal like an African queen’s. Her hair, a voluptuous mass of raven ringlets pulled atop her head in a severe ponytail, fell over broad, muscled shoulders and arms accustomed to wielding swords. On one of those shoulders sat a large black crow, whom she petted as she burred, “The question we have now, little fighter, is: will you accept the destiny we’ve designed for you? Are you prepared to champion this world?”
Breathe, Amy.I jolted myself, the goddesses awaiting my answer. “Y-yes,” I finally croaked, wide-eyed as a lemur. “Yes, I accept. I accept it all.” And I did. Becausesomeonehad to do it. And I didn’t trust anyone else to get the job done.
“Then kneel, Amy Larkspur,” the third goddess ordered in a voice that meantobey. “For the bestowal of our blessings.”
Yes, ma’am!
I dropped to my knees before Pete, who already awaited me, hands out. Shaking in fear of what was about to happen, I pressed my palms to Pete’s, and his long, callused fingers wove through mine.
“Ready?” he asked, his neck flushed and sweaty.
Our foreheads touched, and I gripped his hands for dear life. “As I’ll ever be.”
Thirty-Eight
Naturally,theAllMotherinitiated the gift giving. “I am Danu,” she started. “Creator and mother to Seelie and Unseelie alike, and to all of humankind. Assured of your worth, my dearest, I shall bless you with my most favorite parts of myself.”
She’s blessing me with herownpowers? She can’t mean that.
My desperation to watch what Danu was about to do was killer, but I knew better than to break my concentration on Pete. So, I forced myself to stay focused, to relax my psyche so we could commune.
And, oh—oh! I knew it the moment I sank into his frequency. Because Ifelthim. The immense power in him, the unmatched strength in him, the yin-yang soul in him—they were all there for my mind to mingle with, melting my heart to a puddle at my knees.
And it was a good damn thing I hadn’t wasted time watching Danu. Because she continued with, “I had many principals in my time, Amy, but I was fondest of my wind.”
At first, nothing of note happened. I just started feeling like everything I’d eaten for the past year was escaping through my pores. It didn’t hurt, and it wasn’t uncomfortable, but I did become lightheaded, a little hungry. Because my magic was leaving me, so Danu could return it with interest. Like I was an updating computer.
Several hosts squealed. “Steady, now,” Myrrdin cautioned. “Keep your heads, folks. Control is imperative. Funnel in small groups—take turns.”
Pete’s fingers tightened around mine. He grunted like he’d sat on glass, his shoulders bunching.
“You okay?” I whispered.Inevershould’ve let him do this!
“Shh,” he hushed me, velveteen tethers snaking my limbs—extra protection from what he now knew was coming my way. “Focus on me.”
Taking his advice, I leaned into our mental connection. Just before several breeze-like fingers tickled my cheeks, tugged at my hair in a come-hither flirtation.Inciting chills. I didn’t dare open my eyes, but when ethereal voices whispered in my ear, I couldn’t help imagining myself now flanked by wind seraphs—luminous in trumpet-shaped dresses like the angels Mrs. Crankle across the street hung on her house every Christmas season.
Come away with us, the seraphs enticed.Come away to the clouds. To the stars. To freedom itself.Never had I considered such a thing—going to heaven by choice—while I was still living. And I didn’t think I’d consider it now either. But lordy, those breathy voices were persuasive. They made no bones about the Isle’s wonder—a place absent of suffering, a land of eternal peace wherein all wishes were granted.Don’t you deserve that?they cajoled.Don’t you deserve your dreams?
And those dreams suddenly became illustrations in my mind. There was me in an old-world college classroom, laughing with friends. Me after graduation, working as a publishing executive in a skyrise overlooking a wind-powered fae city in the clouds. I saw myself at a pleasant supper with my family, both my parents there. Then, me curled up on a fairytale apartment’s window seat with a steaming mug of coffee, surrounded by books, pets, and puzzles, listening to the best pop music any world offered. And I wouldn’t lie to myself—I was tempted.
I winced, thrown from my reverie, when another image—a boy in breeches and waistcoat, his tousled brown hair tied back in a queue—pervaded the angels’ visions. He squealed, a rakish little devil, dashing away from a short woman with golden-brown hair capped in linen. She chased him around a modest stone-built manse in her ponderous skirts, until she scooped him up and gave his round cheek a loving kiss. “Go wash up for supper,” she lilted pleasantly and set him on his feet with a firm smack on his rump. “Ye wee hooligan.”
Pete, I realized. He was the wee hooligan. And he wasn’t in any of the seraphs’ images. And if he wasn’t there—
My Isle of Apples future lost all allure.
“Sorry,” Pete said as I pressed closer to his hands and forehead. He must not have meant me to see that—memory? Strange, but I’d never received memories in communing with anyone else. I’d have thought the difference due to our increasingly lustful involvement if I hadn’t had a similar involvement with Briar. I’d onlyfeltthings from Briar. I hadn’t seen things.
Perhaps I’d seen Pete’s memory because he’d yanked on my psyche when the seraphs were tempting me. Now, I was immersed in his mind, so deep that my being there would’ve been invasive if Pete hadn’t invited me in.
Being there, snuggled like a bug in a rug with him, my heart purred,Mm, and I refused the seraphs beckoning me home. Even as Danu’s winds became a maelstrom, I stayed grounded, gripping Pete’s hands until I’d resorbed my first principal power.
Danu granted me two secondary gifts after that. Thescoránheart, so no doors were locked to me, and chronopathy, a power which must’ve had some association to my dimples of Venus, my back a canvas for the Mother’s art. I almost giggled. Aunt Aylie would besooopissed at Danu for defacing my skin.
Before the next goddess spoke, I experienced another hollowing. This one much more abrupt. This goddess lacked Danu’s patience, for she drained whatever magic she needed from me in a blink, and I would’ve toppled over, dizzy, had my anchor not steadied me.
“Iam Morrigan,” she declared. “Goddess of war, advocate of kings, and defender of the people.” I knew which of the goddesses spoke even with my eyes closed—the one who lookedlike a badass. “To you, little fighter, I give from my own arsenal: the warrior’s skin, so that you may be harder to kill in battle, and my principal power—shapeshifting, so that no single form will constrain your glory.”
