Free Morrigan by Laura DeLuca Page A

my
back!”
    Tiarn looked up at her, startled at the
interruption. Morrigan! What are you doing here? I thought
you—”
    “No,” Morrigan interrupted. “You answer my
question first! Where is she? Who were you just talking . . .
?”
    The words died on Morrigan’s lips when she
saw the image of an old woman reflected in the waters of a tiny
pond. She was dressed in black robes, with wispy gray hair hanging
like frayed yarn around her silhouette. Morrigan strained to see
her face, but her features were covered by a long black veil. As
old as she seemed, she still had a regal countenance and a somewhat
threatening one. She didn’t speak, but through the thin veil of
lace, Morrigan could almost make out a pair of sunken eyes hidden
deep within her haggard face. The old woman seemed to glare at her
and appraise her all at once as Morrigan reached her hand toward
the image.
    “No!” The woman cried. “Stay away from the
water!”
    Morrigan couldn’t help herself. The image
looked so real she just had to reach out her hand and touch it,
just to convince herself the woman was really there. Yet, as soon
as she made contact with the water, the visage shuddered once and
then faded from her view. All that was left was the sparkling blue
spring that rippled in protest from having been disturbed.
    “What . . . who was that?” Morrigan couldn’t
hide the tremble in her voice.
    “That delightful creature was your
grandmother.”
    Before she could question him further, Tiarn
stomped grudgingly back to the campsite.

Chapter
Ten
    Tiarn was pouting, right down to the lower
lip jutting out and the crestfallen frown. He resembled a spoiled
toddler, instead of an incredibly sexy and somewhat dangerous
werewolf who played a mean pan flute. Morrigan wasn’t quite sure
what he was so upset about. Was he angry at her for interrupting
what was obviously meant to be a private conversation? Or had her
grandmother offended him?
    “Was that woman really my grandmother?” she
asked, trying to break the strained silence.
    Morrigan nibbled at the edges of the stale
bread that surrounded the strange tasting, overcooked meat Tiarn
had tossed at her when they got back to the campsite. She had
already pulled out most of the meat from the sandwich and given it
to Danu and Dagda. They didn’t seem to mind the chewy, dry meal.
They tore into it greedily as Morrigan waited for Tiarn’s
response.
    “Of course it was your grandmother,” he
finally huffed and strummed his fingers along a hollow log.
Morrigan noticed even his knuckles had a thin layer of hair. “Why
would I tell you she was if it were not true? Why were you spying
on me anyway? Do they not teach manners in that barbaric place from
which I rescued you?”
    Morrigan was indigent and a little hurt by
his belligerent tone. She was the only one who had the right to be
upset. After all, they were having a casual conversation about her
virginity. “I wasn’t spying. I was just looking for you.”
    “You should have stayed here!” he told
her.
    “What’s the big deal? Are you afraid I heard
you saying something you didn’t want me to know?”
    Tiarn snorted. “I fear nothing! Except the
wrath of your mother when I try to explain to her how a wild animal
was able to tear you to pieces. Which is bound to happen if you
insist on tramping off into the woods alone!”
    That shut Morrigan up for a while. She had
never even considered what creatures might be lurking in the
forest. It seemed so quiet and peaceful with its rustling leaves
and gentle breezes. She had to remember she wasn’t in a state park
or on a nature trail. Anything could happen here.
    Of course, she wasn’t completely defenseless.
She could start fires at will and move objects with her mind. She
had always relied on those powers to keep her safe back in
Maryland. In this world, though, the wild animals might be immune
to her magic abilities. Besides, her powers were often
unpredictable. Sometimes they burst forth