Obsidian Fire (The Raven Queen's Harem 4)

Clinton takes my hand and as much as I want to push him away I feel a comfort in his touch. He says, “Christensen is one of us. Part of the network created to keep the Darkness and Morrigan out of this world.”

Christensen nods.

“We’re part of a team that includes the Guardians, The Nead, Sue and Davis, and the Professor,” Clinton asks.

“Anyone else?” I ask.

“Not specifically. There are those in the community that are aware of who we are and what we do. The shaman at the fights. Tran down at the magic shop.”

“Hildi?

“The Valkyrie?” Christensen asks.

Clinton shrugs. “I think she has a feeling. She’s very astute and is from the gods herself.”

“We each have a role,” Christensen says. “The men are the soldiers.”

“And you?” I ask.

“I’m what mortals would call a General.”

“You’re calling the shots?” A feeling of dread bubbles in the pit of my stomach. “I don’t understand? Are you not a real professor? Is my work pointless?”

“Oh no, Morgan. I’m historian and my job is to manage the writings and writers during the times of Darkness. Your work is priceless. Each incarnation of the Darkness must have a historian. Someone on the front lines to tell the myths and mythologies—the intricate side that human history will miss. They’ll see the sickness, the disease, or wars. They won’t see the game play from one realm to the other.”

“Do you really see it like that?” I ask them both. “A game?”

“A deadly and precise one. To think of it as anything else is foolish. The Morrigan relishes war and destruction. You know that. We must always be one step ahead.”

I think about what he’s saying. It’s a game. We’re all just pieces or even pawns for the Morrigan’s playing board. What confuses me most is who am I? What is my job in all of this since the split?

Clinton rests his hand on my shoulder. “We didn’t end the battle when we split you and the Morrigan apart. We always knew it was a possibility that we would create another piece. It seems we created two.”

“Two?” I ask.

“You know the myths often include three sides to the Raven Queen, each with specific qualities.”

“I remember. Each goddess prevails over a different concept. Land, fertility, or war. Dylan thought they were exaggerated stories to make the Morrigan more intimidating. You think the spell actually brought on that manifestation?”

“Not at first. You seemed different. More at peace. I thought maybe we banished her but now that people are dying…” Clinton trails off and looks at Christensen.

“So you think I still carry part of the Goddess inside of me.”

Christensen nods. “Yes.”

“Which part?”

“Either war or land. Because fertility is already showing her hand.”

I wish they’d stop talking in riddles but the intensity of their expression stops me from lashing out. “You’re considering the spread of the virus as fertility—that’s what’s being created.” They both nod. My mind races, thinking to the reason we came here in the first place. “Anita is the third piece. Is that what you’re saying?”

Christensen leans over the counter. “She stole the kiss from you, Morgan. Took the Darkness right out of your body and has spread it across the city. The plague is here and I’m not sure how to stop it.”

“Do you know where to find her?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t, but Anita has always been bold, it shouldn’t be long before she makes her move. The Morrigan is restless.”

“Even if we do find her,” I ask them, “how do we stop her for good?”