Divine by Blood. P.C. Cast
body begin to shiver, and I knew I would soon disappear. “I love you, Dad! Don’t ever forget that. And I miss you! And remember that in Partholon there’s a part of you that lives on there.”
“I love you, too, Bugsy old girl. Try to come back and see me again.”
“I will, Dad. Tell Mama Parker I love her, too.”
“I’ll tell her. Oh! And happy birthday, Shannon!”
“Thanks, Dad, and don’t forget to be careful…” I called. The living room and Dad faded from my view as I lifted through the house and then, before I could steady myself, I was sucked back into the tunnel of fire.
“Oh, shit!” I sat up too fast and grimaced at the tenderness in my body.
“Rhea? What is it?” ClanFintan hurried up to our bed. He’d obviously just gotten back from the Sacred Grove. He smelled vaguely of damp earth and sweat.
Shakily, I pushed my wild hair out of my face. “The Magic Sleep. It was just especially disconcerting tonight. Epona sent me back to Oklahoma.”
Concern narrowed his dark eyes. “Why there?”
I answered him with a question of my own. “You didn’t find Rhiannon’s body, did you?”
“No.” And then I saw understanding flash on his face. “She died in your old world.”
I nodded. “But not until giving birth. Today. To a daughter my parents have decided to raise.”
ClanFintan looked almost as shocked as I’d felt when I’d discovered Morrigan in my father’s arms. Then my eyes followed his and we gazed at the perfect baby girl who slept so peacefully in the cradle beside our bed.
“Rhiannon’s daughter looks just like Myrna,” I said.
I saw ClanFintan jerk in surprise. Then his eyes found mine, and I saw they were shadowed with worry. “Why did Epona send your spirit to your father?”
“She wanted me to warn him. Pryderi freed Rhiannon from the tree. She was supposed to be his minion or whatever, but the birth of her daughter changed her…fixed her…” Emotions made my voice choke and I had to clear my throat before I could continue. “Rhiannon was forgiven by Epona before her death, and her bonds to the dark god were broken, but it seems Pryderi is still after a Chosen of Epona—or the daughter of a Chosen.”
“That dark creature had better look elsewhere. He will not touch our daughter with his evil whisperings.”
“Which is exactly why Epona had me warn Dad. He can’t have me. He can’t have Myrna or any other children we may have. So his next logical choice would be—”
“Rhiannon’s daughter,” he finished for me.
“Exactly,” I said.
“Is your father prepared to fight a dark god for the soul of the child?”
I smiled grimly at ClanFintan. “Dad’s not about to let someone he loves give in to the Dark Side.” He, of course, hadn’t seen the Star Wars movies (not even the old ones), but he totally got the gist of what I was saying.
“But can he stop her? The MacCallan wasn’t able to stop Rhiannon from being seduced by darkness.”
I felt cold, and shivered. “I don’t know. I think all we can do is wait and see.”
“And pray for Epona’s aid,” he said.
“And pray for Epona’s aid,” I echoed. Silently I added, Please, Epona, somehow, even though that’s not your world, help Dad and Mama Parker and little Morrigan.
Then my own daughter began to stir and my attention shifted from Oklahoma and darkness to Partholon and the light of new beginnings.
1
Oklahoma
From her earliest thoughts Morrigan knew she was different. It wasn’t just because she was being raised by her grandparents. She knew other kids whose parents were losers and their grandparents had to raise them. It wasn’t just because her mom and dad were dead, even though she didn’t know anyone else whose parents were both dead. And it wasn’t because G-ma and G-pa taught her kinda weird stuff when it came to religion. Oklahoma was the Bible Belt, but even in Broken Arrow there were kids in school who believed in different stuff. Okay, not many. But still.
She was different because she heard things other people didn’t hear, and because she felt things other people didn’t feel.
Morrigan sighed and continued to pull the journals out of her closet and stack them neatly in storage boxes.
“And here it is. All my weirdness. Chronicled for the enjoyment of the masses.” She bowed her head and waved her hands, as if accepting grateful accolades from a crowd. “No…no…your applause is too much. Really.”
“Morgie! Hon! Do you need some help in there?”
“Grandma, no! I’m fine.”
“Want a glass of sweet tea?”
Morrigan sighed again, but she smiled and made sure the smile touched her voice. “No, Grandma. Don’t worry. I’ll be done in here in a little while.”
“Okay, well, your friends will be here pretty soon. So if you need me to help you—”
“Mama Parker, leave the girl alone. If she said she’s fine, she’s fine…”
Morrigan giggled at her grandpa’s gruff voice and at her grandma’s soft reply. G-pa always seemed to know when she needed some time to herself. Not that she didn’t love her grandma and appreciate her. But G-ma tended to…well…hover. And an eighteen-year-old girl who was packing to go away to college didn’t need hovering. Or at least not all the time.
She picked up another journal and thumbed through it restlessly. It was hard to think about going away, though. Sure, Oklahoma State University wasn’t that far away. Only about an hour and a half. But it wasn’t here. It wasn’t home. And she’d have to meet new people. Make new friends. Morrigan frowned. She just wasn’t good at that. New people didn’t get her. She tended to be shy and quiet. People misunderstood that and assumed she was stuck up. So she felt like she always had to force herself to act against her personality—to smile and say hi when she just wanted to sit in the background and watch what was going on until she felt comfortable joining in. That’s why she’d gotten into drama. She’d even been in several of the school plays. She and Grandpa had come up with the plan in middle school that she should take Intro to Drama so that she could learn to “act” in her daily life.
Okay, it sounded wrong and kinda even deceptive. But it wasn’t. Morrigan had needed a way to fit in. And not just for herself. It was important to her grandparents that she had friends. That she acted normal. Even though she wasn’t. They understood her. But no one else really did.
So she’d learned to act. And she got into dance and made the Tigette Dance Squad for all four of her high-school years. And she dated (mostly football players or wrestlers—they were the guys G-pa approved of). She gave the appearance of normal.
But inside, where it really counted, Morrigan was far from normal.
She tossed another journal in the storage box. It flipped open, and the childish handwriting caught her eye. She picked it up and read from the open page.
April 2 (28 more days till my 9th birthday!)
Dear Journal,
I really, really think G-pa and G-ma are getting me a horse for my birthday!! And not just because I’ve been asking and asking for one, and being sure I show them that I’m old enough to take care of one all