Demon, they called me in their minds. Changeling. Cursed. And every time I took hold of someone’s mind, I wondered if perhaps they were right.
Reaching his throne before me, áthair sat down heavily. When I stood before the dais, he glanced down at me and nodded. His elegant clothing looked dull—a fine layer of dust had settled upon his fur-trimmed cloak, his boots were scuffed, and his tunic was rumpled beneath his leather breastplate. For a moment, he looked so weary that I almost asked if he’d rather I came back later, but I knew drawing attention to any weakness of his made him bearish. As though sensing my thoughts, he straightened.
“You are to be commended for driving the pagans off,” áthair began, but I waited bracingly, knowing his compliments were almost always followed by a criticism. “However, I was informed that there were survivors.”
My heart beat faster in my chest. So Conall must have told him. I kept my gaze very carefully on his eyes, afraid I’d betray myself by looking anxiously at the door. “They retreated when their leader was defeated.”
He leaned forward. “And you let them?”
I could see now that what I had originally taken for weariness was actually disappointment . . . in me. “Should I have hunted them all down as animals, then?”
“What you did was far worse. Tell me, what exactly were you planning to do with a prisoner?”
Suddenly, the room was much too warm. I needed the Northman alive, but if my father already knew, then had he sent one of the others to kill him? A niggling feeling crept up my neck. I knew what needed to be done—this was my father, yes, but also the king. And the king should be informed of a vision of monstrous beings who would not only bring about the destruction of éirinn but the deaths of my own sisters. But would he believe me?
“I held him for questioning when I suspected he had attacked the northern monastery.”
Some of the anger in my father’s face lessened. “You feared for me?”
“I did, áthair.”
“Why interrogate him when you could simply take over his mind?”
I raised my eyebrows in surprise. áthair rarely discussed my abilities. Forced me to endlessly practice them on the training grounds, yes. But rarely spoke of them. “He was able to resist me,” I admitted.
áthair looked taken aback for a moment, but quickly recovered. “A rare talent. Unfortunately for him, it’s not enough to preserve his life.” He let out a sigh and leaned back. “You’re a good daughter, Ciara. But it’s time you cleaned up your own mess. Go to the prisoner, kill him, and burn the body. Return to me when you are done.”
I froze, my heartbeat throbbing in my ears. It was now or never. áthair needed to know why I couldn’t kill the Northman, why we might even need him to face the new enemies that would soon be at our door.
“áthair,” I said, proud that my voice managed to not waver, “the prisoner must be kept alive.” His eyes narrowed, but I forged ahead. “After the battle with the Northmen raiders, I endured a vision of not only our kingdom falling under attack, but the whole of éirinn.”
“You’ve never had visions before. Where did this come from, and why should you believe it?”
I took a deep breath. My pious father would not like to hear it had been given to me not by God, but by a pagan goddess. “The Morrigan appeared to me.”
His face paled, and he started to come out of his throne before sitting back down again. “The Morrigan?”
“Yes, áthair,” I said. “The Phantom—”
“I know who she is,” he roared, his voice echoing throughout the throne room. “Why would you listen to one of the Old Ones? You know they’re dangerous. Many have been led to their death by the Old Ones, and many more have lost their souls.”
“I listened to her because it’s her voice I’ve been hearing all along—the one that has warned me of battles and death.” His face paled again, but at least he’d stopped shouting long enough to listen to me. “I listened because she showed our castle being attacked, and my sisters . . .” I swallowed hard as I remembered helplessly watching as the giant killed them both. “My sisters were killed by enemies I’ve never encountered before. They were like the Northmen we have battled, only giant, taller than an oak tree and stronger than any man I’ve ever seen. The Morrigan warned they wouldn’t rest with éirinn; they meant to take over the world.”
“We have battled Northmen before and won,” áthair said. “A pagan creature shows you differently, and you believe her. You are being led astray.”
I took a step toward the throne, desperation rising within me. “You don’t understand. I have heard her voice before, and she has never been wrong. You don’t understand what’s at stake.” I thought again of my sisters, of the whole isle turning to ash, and I painstakingly described every horrific image the Morrigan had shown me, but still, he shook his head angrily.
“Enough of this, Ciara,” he said, his voice rising again. “Listening to the Old Ones is heresy, and I will not tolerate it in my kingdom. Go to the Northman prisoner. Kill him. Be done with this—it matters not what the Morrigan told you. Their race is full of lies and deceit.”
“I cannot.”
Silence descended as áthair stared at me. “You dare to tell me no?” His tone was dangerously calm.
Like a flame touched to dry wood, it ignited my own anger. “The Morrigan said the Northman is the only one aside from myself with the power to stop the inhuman invaders. If there’s even the slightest chance this is true, if it means keeping my sisters safe, then I will keep him alive.”
áthair flew out of his throne, red-faced with rage. “If you defy me in this, Ciara, then I swear by all the saints that I will send you away to the other side of éirinn and kill the Northman myself.”
His eyes were narrowed, his hands fists at his sides. I knew he wouldn’t listen to me, and I knew he’d stand by his words. He never listened to me, at least not like a father should listen to his daughter. The anger built and built within me, until every muscle tightened to the point it was painful. I thought of Alana, dead at the Northmen’s hands, of Branna and Deirdre writhing and clawing for breaths as they were murdered in my own room, and something within me snapped. If he wouldn’t listen to me, then I would make him understand. Without stopping to think of the consequences, I lashed out with my mind.
I grabbed hold of my father’s mind, and his shock and outrage spewed forth a torrent of memories that washed over me: the Morrigan on a battlefield, standing naked before áthair, a murder of crows flying above them.
There will come a day, the Morrigan said in her terrible voice, when your own blood will join forces with your enemy.
He struggled against my hold on his mind, but I delved deeper until the thought he’d been trying to hide from me surfaced: the image of myself standing before him on the throne, telling him of the Morrigan’s vision, and áthair, hearing the echo of the Morrigan’s warning all those years ago.
I shoved him back into his throne. “You knew the Morrigan’s vision was true.” The horror of that shook me enough that my mental grip on him weakened.
áthair fought anew until he was able to wrench free of my hold. He gripped his head in his hands, and I knew he was in agony—taking control of someone by force could have that effect. I took a step forward as though I could help him, desperate to undo what I’d just done. “áthair, I—”
“You dare turn on me like a mad dog?” His voice was gruff with pain but also anger. The fury rolled off him like black smoke.
“I just wanted you to understand. You have to listen to me—”
“Your mother always said I was wrong to train you after what you did to her.”