Morrigan by Laura DeLuca Read Free Book Online Page B

reading. Wheel of Fortune, The
Empress, Six of Cups, The Knight of Wands, The Moon, and Death
duplicated again and again, closing in on her like the walls of a
mystical prison. Death multiplied in endless repetition. The
skull-faced man on the Death card was coming toward her with his
scythe—coming for her, ready to drag her down into his dark
realm.
    It seemed hours had passed. The cards were
moving and spinning, the reaper was coming toward her. Morrigan
tried to fight it, but she felt like her body was being pulled by
the most overpowering undertow. The constant swift movements made
her feel queasy and desperate. She had trouble breathing as panic
took hold of her. She wondered if the terrible ride would ever end.
Then, just when she thought she could no longer stand it—when she
was sure she had already found the path that led to death or maybe
even oblivion—the dizzying movement came to a sudden and abrupt
halt.
    Morrigan eyes snapped open, and she was
surprised to find her feet were planted firmly on solid ground.
There was no grinning death mask looming over her, just the
smirking face of Tiarn watching her with amusement from just a few
steps away.
    “A little lightheaded, are you? Nothing to
worry about, Princess. It is quite normal. Especially for your
first time.”
    “You could have warned me to take some
Dramamine,” Morrigan complained as she tried to steady herself on
the edge of a rough, splintery table.
    “Would you like to sit down, Princess
Morrigan? Would you like some water? Something to eat? I only have
some thin gruel, but I would be more than happy to share my meager
meal with you, Your Majesty.”
    Before Morrigan could reply or figure out who
was speaking to her, an elderly man who could only be Condon’s twin
brother grabbed her arm and ushered her to a small creaky chair by
the fireplace. He had the same ragged appearance, the same dull
eyes, even the same missing teeth. And, she noticed as he thrust a
wooden cup into her hand, the same spiral tattoo on his hand.
    She accepted the drink gratefully. She was
too shaky to do much else. She dropped her bag on the floor and
settled in, happy to take the weight off her wobbly legs. She had
to admit the fire warmed her trembling body, but she took one sip
from the water and had to fight the urge to spit it out across the
room. It was stale and stagnant, and she was pretty sure it had a
thin film of slime across the top. Tiarn watched her from his
corner with an undeniable smirk, while Danu and Dagda made
themselves at home on the ratty carpet by the fire. They were
taking the time warp thing a lot better than Morrigan—maybe because
they had been through it before.
    Morrigan turned away from Tiarn and the cats
to find Condon’s brother kneeling at her feet. He didn’t look like
he had any intention of moving. She assumed he was waiting for her
permission, which made her feel very uncomfortable. This whole
royalty thing was going to take some getting used to. She realized
if she didn’t say something, the old man was going to stay in a
crouched position permanently, and she didn’t want to be
responsible for him developing sciatica pain.
    “Thank you, Ummm . . . .” She paused, unsure
how to address him.
    “Dunham,” the Gatekeeper announced. He stood
up, but then bowed so low it was more like a grovel. “Welcome to my
humble home, Princess Morrigan.”
    He was right about it being humble—it was
more of a shack than a home. There were holes in the straw roof and
a few in the walls. Candles, practically burned down to their
bottoms, were the only light other than the flicker from the
fireplace. Hanging in the flue was a large kettle, simmering and
bubbling over the edges. She could only guess it contained the
previously offered gruel. It smelled terrible, like a combination
of week old garbage and the boy’s locker room, making Morrigan glad
she hadn’t taken Dunham up on his offer to share it.
    “Thank you again, Dunham, for such a