“Émilienisstrong. That coupled with his moral code is why he was chosen as the guardian of the Shadow Lands.”
The goddess’s gaze snapped to hers. “Heis the guardian? I should have known that before. He must be protected at all costs. As you know, pantheons survive only when people believe in them. Most beings in all worlds have forgotten the old ways, and those who hold on are too few. We are dying. The Shadow Lands are the only safe refuge allowed us.”
Hel struggled with the decision to tell Morrigan just how important their mission really was. The goddess, along with her sisters and the gods and goddesses who still fought to survive within the Celtic pantheon, deserved the truth. “There’s more to all of this than you know. At first, we thought Freyja sent us to Midgard, before he was cursed into his current form, for us to figure out who is behind the disappearances of the dead living in several death realms. Now, I’m not so sure if fate controlled our path. My realm has been emptied, along with the majority in the Egyptian, Greek, and, I’m sorry to say, the Celtic realms.”
She rested her hand on Morrigan’s arm as the color drained from the goddess’s face. “Before we left, something attacked Émilien as he made his rounds in the Shadow Lands. No one can enter or leave, and we must find out why. It’s tied together, I just know it is. But who and why are the answers we’re trying to figure out.”
Morrigan nodded and rested her hand over Hel’s. “Hearing this news, my plans have changed. You will come with me.”
The surrounding airpushed against them, and the room faded in swirls of browns, which quickly turned to many vibrant shades of green. Her brain moved along with the colors, and before she did something stupid, like faint, she closed her eyes.
Seconds later, she pressed her toes against the sole of her boots and breathed a sigh of relief. The ground, or whatever was beneath them, felt solid. She opened her eyes to find them standing in the middle of a forest clearing.
Hel’s eyes widened. “This is amazing.” Her gaze darted from a fat bush overflowing with pink and white flowers to long wisteria vines, heavy with purple blooms. “There are so many colors.”
“My sister, Nemain, and Idunn trade gardening secrets and are constantly trying to outdo the other with their green thumbs. It’s pathetic, really. Who wants to spend all their time with their hands in the dirt?”
Hel nodded. “I agree. Idunn has tried to get me to join her gardening club. I think she’s finally given up. So, why are we here?”
“I didn’t want to take the chance of someone overhearing our conversation. Here, I know we are safe and cannot be overheard. Now, what were you getting ready to say?”
Hel thought a moment, trying to remember where her tale had stopped. “Long story short, when we arrived, we entered a cave and discovered a small wolf pup who poisoned Émilien. We believe the pup was conditioned to inject the poison using his demon genes. His father and uncle had been searching for him and got there just after it happened. They helped us remove the poison, at least we hope.
Worry gnawed at her insides and her hand splayed over her churning abdomen. “He’s had some residual weakness, but it seems to have resolved. While we were there, Fer-Diorich showed up and hinted that there was someone other than him pulling the strings. What we don’t know is who this person is and if they’re also behind the emptying of the death realms.”
Morrigan nodded then sat on a chair that appeared behind her. With a wave of her hand, Hel felt something pressing against the backs of her calves and glanced behind her to see an identical chair. Dropping onto the soft green velvet seat, the weariness she had been fighting against caught up, and she leaned back with a sigh. “This is divine. Now all I need is a sandwich or something to munch on.”
“Open your eyes, Hel.”
Forcing her eyelids to open, her gaze widened at the spread of food between them. A small circular tabletop, covered by a pristine, white linen tablecloth, was laden with fruits, finger sandwiches, cookies, something chocolate cut into small squares, and even a plate filled with layers of thinly sliced roast beef and ham. In the center stood a tall glass pitcher filled to the rim with a red liquid.
“Oh my. I don’t know where to begin.”
“Help yourself,” Morrigan said, reaching for a dainty sandwich. After taking a bite, she picked up the pitcher and poured the liquid into two small glasses and handed one to Hel. “This is my favorite. It’s a combination of the Greek’s nectar with a few additions of my own favorite flavors.”
Hel sniffed the drink, the heady scents of a bouquet of fruits filling her nostrils. She took a small sip then drank half the glass. “You weren’t kidding. This is amazing! I’ve had nectar before, which is too sweet for my taste, but this adds the right touch of sours to make it perfect.” She took another small sip and swished the liquid around her mouth, trying to distinguish each flavor before swallowing. “I taste lemon and lime.” She took another sip. “Raspberry? Is that one of the flavors?”
Morrigan smiled. “You have a very refined palate. Yes, to all three guesses, but that’s all I’m telling you. The rest of the recipe is a secret.” She handed Hel a sandwich. “As much as you’ve swigged down, you had better get some food in your stomach.”
In two bites, the sandwich was gone. Hel reached for another and also ate a few slices of roast beef, spreading what she hoped was mustard on one slice before laying several more slices on top then rolling them together. Lastly, with her stomach almost full, she reached for one of the chocolate squares and bit off a small corner. The decadent,chocolaty goodness made her groan. “Oh dear gods...”
She took a larger bite, the thick fudge and gooey cake-like texture her new favorite treat. “I need to know what these are, and the recipe. I must have the recipe or you’re going to have a permanent housemate.”
Morrigan chuckled. “This recipe you can have. These are called fudge brownies. I’m surprised you’ve never had one before. Idunn’s the one who taught me how to make them.”
Hel shrugged and sat back, laying her hands over her full stomach to ease the ache. “No one comes to visit me in Helheimr. The wards keep everyone out, except for those I’ve given special permission to enter. Otherwise, you would have to die. It’s a definite kink, but it keeps me sane. I don’t get along very well with most people. They tend to drive me crazy in a matter of minutes.”
“Then you and my sister should get along nicely.”
Hel glanced toward the sultry feminine voice to see, not an exact replica of Morrigan, but a close enough in likeness. This woman had to be one of the sisters Morrigan had mentioned.
Hel couldn’t pull her gaze from the woman’s unusual hair color. It was a unique blend of black and red strands and complimented her shamrock-green eyes to perfection. The rich burgundy of her gown should clash with the red in her hair, but strangely enough, it complimented the color. The décolletage cut of her dress showed more of her chest than her sister’s more modest neckline, but it was the double-strand black chain belt around her narrow waist that drew Hel’s attention the most. It was unique and something she had never seen before.
“Hel, this is Macha. One of my annoying sisters.”
“I’m confused.” Hel’s gaze moved between the two extraordinarily beautiful sisters. “My Celtic pantheon knowledge is a bit rusty, I’ll admit, but I thought there werethreesisters, Nemain, Macha, and Babd, and the trio was called the Morrigan. Does history have it wrong?” Her thoughts strayed to Émilien, wondering where he was and what he was being forced to do for Fer-Diorich.
And most importantly—was he okay?