I nodded once, moving toward him until our arms brushed with each step. Much as I hated to admit it, I took comfort from his closeness, from the feel of the warmth radiating off his body.
A rustling drew my attention to the branches above. Countless shiny, dark eyes stared down at us. I touched Leif’s arm, indicated with my chin the murder of crows watching us.
One opened its beak. Caw-caw-caw.
Soon another joined in, and another, until the trees were full of the cawing of crows.
Even the dog flinched. She came to a stop in front of us, and Leif and I tensed into fighting stances. The birds began flapping their wings until the forest echoed with the sounds of them.
Then, just as suddenly, the crows fell silent. Black smoke poured from the roots of the trees, slithering along the ground. It stopped mere feet away and solidified into a figure.
She was dressed as though prepared for battle, attired completely in supple black leather nearly identical to the set I’d been given. It clung to her like a second skin. Her head was still that of a crow, and beside me, I could feel Leif shudder.
The Morrigan’s eyes bore into mine, her expression unreadable. When she finally spoke, her voice so harshly distorted by the crow’s beak, I flinched as though anticipating a blow. “I see Brigid has healed you both, though you scarcely deserved it after losing that battle so spectacularly.”
At that, the dog made a chuffing sound as if in farewell. She shook herself off once before bounding away like a deer, disappearing into the mist.
While our attention had been on the dog, the Morrigan had moved closer. Now she stood only a foot away. She leaned still closer, and Leif tensed beside me. “Hear me, Northman. You will both fail. An army of men could never defeat the j?tnar—even with your power. This last battle proved that. You failed because you still fight separately. You”—her crow eyes found Leif’s—“have the strength and fighting ability of a god. And you”—those eerie eyes slid back to mine—“have the mental prowess to command an army of men. Yet you do nothing to combine those powers. You are both arrogant and foolish beyond measure.”
Her words prickled against my skin. I thought of Leif and me battling two different giants—why hadn’t I immediately gone to his aid? It seemed obvious now that I should have taken control of the first giant’s mind long enough for Leif to bring him down. And yet I was so used to relying mostly on my own abilities. Was it hubris, then? Did I believe I was strong enough—physically and mentally—to defeat a giant on my own? “If we learn to work together, then will we be able to overcome them?” I asked.
The Morrigan tilted her head. “Perhaps. But then again, there is another way.” She took another step forward until I could feel the cold emanating off her as surely as I could feel Leif’s warmth beside me. “In addition to her many other abilities, Ciara has the ability to call upon an army of great power.”
A jolt of surprise ran through me. “But how? I—”
“It requires a great sacrifice.” Her eyes darkened, turning to two drops of blood for a fleeting moment. “A blood sacrifice.”
I took a step back. “Then, no . . . I could not—”
“How many?” Leif asked, his face a mask of stone.
A slow, awful smile curved the Morrigan’s lips. “The Northmen do not shy away from blood sacrifices, do they? The blood of two hundred men must be offered as payment.”
The breath rushed from my lungs as though I had been knocked onto my back. “It cannot be done—it will not be done.”
“Tell me more of this army,” Leif said.
I grabbed his arm. “Stop this. The price is too high.”
“The price is high,” the Morrigan agreed, “but the price will be higher still for éirinn if you do not pay it. I have foreseen it: without this army, you will fail. Even now, the j?tnar have returned to Skien in the north, and Fenris will bring this battle to our shores.” Her attention shifted to me. “I have shown you the consequences, Ciara, and you still tell me the price is too dear?”
Panic bubbled up within me, as I faced this choice I could never make.
“Tell us of the army,” Leif repeated.
“It is composed of warriors who cannot die, of men who are accomplished in battle.” The Morrigan leveled her gaze at Leif. The feathers upon her head quivered for a moment. “They are warriors who have already died.”
15
The crows above us flapped their wings at the Morrigan’s pronouncement, and icy cold water swam through my veins. “How can the dead fight battles?” I asked.
“They are the army of the undead,” the Morrigan answered cryptically. Her gaze shifted to Leif. “This one knows of fallen warriors who live to fight again. He hopes to be welcomed into the halls of Valhalla himself one day.”
A look of surprise and almost hope flashed across Leif’s face. “Do you mean that Ciara will be able to call upon the einherjar?”
Frustration grew within me. “Who are the einherjar?”
“I believe he’s referring to the warrior souls who are taken by the Valkyrie to Valhalla,” the Morrigan said, a glitter of amusement in her eyes. She turned her attention back to Leif. “But Ciara is a daughter of éirinn. She cannot call forth the einherjar.”
Leif’s disappointment was clear in the drop of his shoulders.
“If not them, then who?” I asked.
“Your own people,” the Morrigan said. “Brigid gave you gifts of armor, but I have swords that will pierce even the tough flesh of the j?tnar.” She pulled two swords from the mist at her feet, swords nearly as tall as Leif. “For you, Northman,” she said, handing him a sword with an ornately tooled grip. A Celtic knot made up the pommel. “This is Vengeance, so named because it feeds on the need for revenge.” She turned to me and presented me with a sword as beautifully crafted, only the pommel was a miniature skull. “And for you, Ciara of Mide, I give the Sword of the Fallen.”
I took it reluctantly. As soon as my hand wrapped around the grip, the sword thrummed, coming to life as though it had been asleep.
“This sword is the key to summoning the army of the undead.” Her tone turned sly. “Wouldn’t you like to give the dead a noble purpose?”
“Not at the cost of damning their souls,” I snapped.
The Morrigan’s eyes flashed menacingly in the shadowed light. “Then you have sentenced the people of éirinn—and your remaining sisters—to death.”
Anger rose so fast within me I nearly choked on it. “You wanted me to fight for this quest and so I have, but if this was your intention all along, then I will not be manipulated. Leif and I will fight together, and we’ll defeat the j?tnar, backed by an army of men with flesh and blood and beating hearts.” I shook all over, the sudden fury causing my vision to redden on the edges. “Tell me how to return.”
The Morrigan stared at me for several moments, her expression dangerous. It was only my boiling anger that kept me from fearing that she would tear out my heart as easily as she had the hellhounds’. “You need only open the door.”
As soon as she said it, I became aware of the other part of me, the ethereal part that could open doors of light and steal a j?tunn’s life force. I indicated for Leif to follow me before striding away, eager to be free of the Morrigan’s tainted presence.
I’d nearly made it out of the crows’ wood before I realized Leif wasn’t behind me. I swung around, only to find the Morrigan and him finishing a conversation. Leif nodded once and turned away. Anger writhed within me at the thought of his taking the Morrigan’s side. “What were you discussing?” I asked as soon as he caught up to me.
His eyebrows were drawn down low over his eyes, as though he was lost in thought. He glanced up, and a wry smile appeared on his face. “I was begging her not to kill you, princess. Ancient war goddesses don’t savor being scolded like children.”
My eyes narrowed. “I doubt that. You’re no silver-tongued peacemaker.”