Crone Unleashed by Lydia M. Hawke

Author:Lydia M. Hawke [Hawke, Lydia M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Michem Publishing

“Tell me about the Morrigan,” I said the next morning, watching as Freya fed the embers from the night before with the last of the branches that Yggdrasill had shed in an effort to save itself from my magick.

I reached cold, stiff hands out to the tiny flames, wishing I could just crawl into them. My cloak had provided next to no protection against either frozen ground or equally frozen air, and Freya, bless her goddess-y heart, had offered me neither her blanket nor her fur. I tried to put aside my grumpiness in favor of gleaning more information.

“Why do you dislike her so much?” I prodded.

Another long silence ensued. Freya, I was learning, was the master of long silences. I’d about given up on an answer and was contemplating—or more accurately, dreading—an attempt at coaxing my cranky hips to move when she spoke.

“You’re lucky you’re not her.”

Yes, I’d already surmised that.

She glowered at me through the smoke rising from the fire that was struggling back to life. “Have you ever watched a man who claims to love you make an utter fool of himself over another woman?”

The question surprised a snort from me before I could catch it back. The goddess’s blue eyes narrowed in annoyance, and I hastened to explain.

“Sorry,” I said, “but actually … yes. I have.”

She appraised me as if reevaluating my worth. Then she grunted. “And? What came of it?”

“He left me and married her. They have a baby, now.”

“An infant? And he is your age?” She gave another grunt. “Then he has had his due.”

I hadn’t thought about it that way before, and the idea of Jeff losing sleep and dealing with the sheer energy of a baby made me laugh. “I suppose he has.”

“My husband has not.”

Oh, I thought. And then I put two and two together. “Oh,” I said. “Odin and the Morrigan?”

“Not at first. At first, it was the Morrigan and Morok, until Morok dallied with another, and the Morrigan retaliated by bedding my husband.” Freya sent me a look that was half sour and half murderous, and I stopped breathing for a moment until she seemed to remember that I wasn’t actually her nemesis. She went back to poking the fire. “Morok returned to the Morrigan after the novelty wore off, of course, but she spurned him, preferring to keep her talons in Odin.”

The goddess shot me another dark look, but my breath only hitched a bit this time, and I waited for her to continue.

“Morok, being the spoiled brat that he is—”

I gave another small snort, finding no lie in the sentiment. A spark of shared amusement flickered across Freya’s expression.

“Exactly,” she said. “Anyway, he crossed over to Earth in a huff and has proceeded to take out his displeasure on humankind ever since.”

Again, I waited for her to go on, but she had begun packing the remains of last night’s meal, wrapping it in a piece of questionable leather and putting it into an equally questionable leather pouch. I frowned, my own amusement evaporating like the smoke between us.

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