Page 32 of A Vow of Wrath and Ruin

I hurried around the palace,gathering things for our trip. A weight settled on me as the reality of seeing my mother after so many years set in.

You’re nervous,the Morrigan’s voice echoed in my head.

“You’d be nervous too if you hadn’t seen your mother in five years, and she sent you to your own personal hell.” I held the scepter, releasing the Morrigan.

The curvaceous warrior goddess materialized; her ashen hair braided in spirals around her head.

“Ah, that’s better.” She stretched out her arms. “As for my mother—she tried to kill me at least six times.”

“Lovely,” I said, folding a dress into a suitcase.

The Morrigan let out a sigh.

“It is. It is an honor to kill your parent in battle.”

I cringed. “Gods.”

“We don’t stay dead,” she chuckled.

I arched a brow.

“I know you’re immortal.”

“We go into the land beyond.”

“And what does that look like?”

“Similar to this plane of existence, but there are harsher parts and calmer parts depending on what lessons you learned or didn’t learn while here, and how you died. I was young for a god when Crum Cruach trapped me and my army in the scepter. I’ve never been resurrected like the gods of old. Inside the scepter, I wander the Veiled Lands.”

“And are there any grumblings from beyond the veil?” I laid a bandolier of daggers on top of the fine dresses.

“I have my scouts scouring the inner reaches of the beyond where I dare not tread for information.” She picked at her nails carelessly.

I tried to decipher whether she was telling the truth, but Morrigan had been playing the game far longer than I had and she hid her true intentions well.

“So, you’re not allowed in certain places?”

She sighed. “The world beyond has laws just like this one.”

“Sounds awful.”

“It is.”

“Is Crom there?”

She shivered, and her eyes shut tight. “I’ve heard whispers. If he is there, he would be deep in the lower levels of the world beyond. Whoever buried him made sure his soul wouldn’t escape. My scouts don’t go down that far, but I know there are grumblings of an uprising.”

Was she telling me the truth or just what I wanted to hear? My eyes raked over her ghostly body, but hers stayed locked on mine. She had notellor at least not one I could discern.

“Was he as bad as they say?”

Her lush lips straightened into a thin line. “He was worse than you could even imagine. He would drink the blood of infants.” She winced. “To his followers, it was considered an honor to sacrifice your firstborn to him by smashing their skull on his throne.”

My stomach turned, and acid crept up the back of my throat. “Vile.”

“They thought it would bring them a prosperous harvest. Not unlike your Ostara celebrations.”

“During Ostara, we celebrate fertility and pray to Ammena that she makes our lands fertile. No one dies. People enjoy each other.”

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