Page 39 of Jailer to the Death God
It’s a warning. For me, his master.
“My hounds are not yours,” I grit out. “Nor is this realm yours, no matter what magical schemes you may concoct.”
“Ah, you found my little addition to the ritual.” She grins. There’s blood between her white teeth. “It’s just the perfect thing, isn’t it? I’m a genius, I really am.”
“This place has been my dominion since the dawn of time,” I tell her. “No machinations of yours can change that. Why would you even want the realm of Unlife, Macha? Its duties would be too dull for you.”
“Perhaps I have a plan to liven things up.” She smiles charmingly, girlishly, but there’s a manic craving in her red-rimmed eyes.
“Do tell.”
“Perhaps I will. If you’re a good boy.” She prances toward me, reaches up to stroke my cheek. “But I think you’re tired of being good, aren’t you? You yearn to be free.” Her fingers press my hip, shifting inward. “If you fuck me right now, Arawn, I’ll consider it a victory in a long war to break you down, and that will be enough for me. The other goddesses and I have placed bets, you know. Which of us can get your cock first. I want to win. You come inside me, and all this ends peacefully.”
I pull away from her. “Why would I give myself to you when I have other options?”
“For now,” she croons. “You have other options… for now.”
“I don’t understand how you were able to amend the ritual.”
“By using what was already there, silly boy. Nine willing sacrifices have always been required for the binding. Some people offer themselves for such a ritual out of fanaticism, to escape pain, or because they’ve been assured their loved ones will be well-paid. But when all nine have committed to the sacrifice not only for their own reasons, but out of love and loyalty for the summoner, the dynamic of the ritual changes. And if the summoner sacrifices someone they love for unselfish reasons, my conditions are met, and my spell takes effect.”
“You interfered with my magic.”
“Your transformative magic is limited, yes, and your connection to Annwn is diminished. That’s because you’ve experienced a partial incarnation. You’re still a god, but you’re deliciously vulnerable to sensation, emotion—and a certain kind of death.”
I try to keep my features calm, impassive, as if I have no fear of Macha or her spells. She can’t destroy me directly. One god cannot kill another; it is our most sacred law, and its protection extends even to me, the least liked of all the gods.
But if what I read in the ritual tome is true, Macha’s magic has tied my existence to the Queen’s. During the year I’m bound to her, if the Queen dies, I die as well.
Thank the dark I saved the Queen from falling into the Pit. Back then I didn’t realize what I know now: Macha set this up as a scheme to destroy me and take over Annwn.
“If I fuck you, you’ll release me from this curse?” I ask her.
“Oh, I can’t change the incarnation spell, or unbind you from your human summoner,” Macha says. “If you fuck me, dear brother, I can only promise to leave Annwn untouched while you’re away. If you don’t—well—I may not be able to mess with the souls who have already passed through the furnace, but I can torment the ones just entering this realm, and I can play with your pretty pets. They already like me, see?” She holds out her hand, and one of the hounds bathes her fingers with his fiery tongue.
“I wish I could kill your human summoner myself,” Macha continues absently. “It would make all of this much easier. But as you know, I can’t be responsible for your death, not even by killing your summoner. And I can’t order anyone to kill either of you, or the other gods will end me. No, I have to sit back and wait, and hope someone else steps in to eliminateher—and by extension,you. It’s best like this, anyway! You can’t imagine how bored I’ve been. The suspense of this scheme is exquisite by comparison.”
“And what of the rest of your little addendum?” Heat rises to my face as I remember the last few lines of her spell.
“Ah yes! You may fuck whomever you like in the mortal plane—in fact, I’d encourage it if you don’t want those chains you wear to become excruciatingly heavy and painful. But you can’t fall in love. If you fall in love, then at the end of your contract with your summoner, you forfeit your throne. You’ll lose some of your magic permanently, and although you’ll still be an immortal god, you’ll be a wandering deity without a home, without a resting place, without any authority. And the realm of Unlife will be free for the taking.”
“You’re such a little shit, Macha,” I snarl.
She pushes her red lips into a pout. “I’d be nicer to me, dear brother. You’re not as strong as usual. And you have fewer friends.”
In response, the two rebel hounds shift closer to her. I look into their baleful, glowing eyes with a glare of my own.
“I will give you this one chance,” I tell them. “When next I return, you will bow to me as your rightful master. If you refuse, the consequences will be dire.” I let shadows uncoil from my body—thick, inky, lashing shadows that could quell the beasts’ inner fire forever.
The rebel hounds shrink from the darkness, hissing and whining.
“Think about it,” I tell them. “And the rest of you, see my sister out of my realm.”
The nine loyal hounds stalk forward, heads lowered, growling at Macha.
She rolls her eyes, but I can sense her apprehension. These hounds are to me what Macha’s herd of giant boars are to her realm, the Valley of Blood. My hounds are realm guardians, powerful enough to oust another god when my will is behind them. Macha might creep into Annwn while I’m gone, but as long as my hounds remain obedient, I can kick her out again each time I return.
Macha doesn’t give the hounds the chance to attack. “I’ll see you soon, little brother,” she says, and disappears in a whirl of blood and smoke. A blast of noxious air, redolent with the sharp scent of hot metal and the sick odor of death, hits me in the face as she departs. The smell of battle. Of war.
