Morrighan - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,27

worried glances, then walked back to me, fingering the hair on my shoulder. “Very well, Morrighan of the Remnant. I’ll strike a deal with you. If you lead us safely to a place of my liking and you please me with your helpfulness along the way, at the end of the journey, you will be Jafir’s. If not, you will be Steffan’s. Do you agree to this without argument?”

I knew there was no way I would ever please this man. He would never concede to my condition, but there was nothing else I could do. If I agreed, it would give Jafir and me more time—and maybe all of those who stood behind Fergus more time too.

“Yes,” I answered.

He told Steffan to release me, then turned to the men holding Jafir and nodded. They let go of his arms, and he fell to the ground, coughing. I ran to him and dropped to his side. His breaths shuddered, and he held his ribs. I cradled his head in my lap, wiping the blood from his mouth with my skirt.

“Morrighan,” he started to protest, but I put my finger to his lips. He knew what I knew. His father would give me nothing.

“Shh,” I whispered. My vision blurred with tears and I leaned closer so I was certain no one would hear. “For now, this is a way. A way for us. I love you, Jafir de Aldrid. I will always love you.”

I looked back at Fergus. He and Steffan already stood shoulder to shoulder, their eyes shining with victory. The clan was appeased, and he would still get what he wanted. But for now this agreement, however fleeting, bought Jafir and me more time. The only thing that was certain was that at the end of this journey, I would be the wife of an Aldrid.

Chapter Twenty-One

Morrighan

I was eighteen when we reached a place of staying. A place where fruit the size of fists hung from trees and a line of deep blue stretched across the horizon as far as we could see.

It had been a long journey. A terrible greatness had rolled across the land that none of us could have imagined. The wilderness howled with the desolation, carrying the cries of the dead.

Sometimes food was as scarce as courage. There were days I kept them alive on grass, bark, and false hope. I lied to keep them moving forward one more step. I told the children stories to distract them from their fears. Whether there was one god or four, I didn’t know, but I called upon any who would listen. They whispered back to me. On the winds, in a glint of light, colors playing behind my eyelids, words tickling at my neck and nesting in my gut. Keep going. My ways were quiet, soft, a trusting and a listening that was sometimes not fast enough to stay Fergus’s hand. If it wasn’t my face that suffered the cost, it was Jafir’s or that of anyone within swinging distance.

I mourned for the gentleness of my tribe, and at times thought I couldn’t go on, but Ama was right. It was in the sorrows, in the fear, in the need, that the knowing gained flight, and I had much of all these. I remembered that eight-year-old girl I had once been, the one who had cowered between boulders waiting to die. In my years spent with the tribe, I’d thought I understood fear. I’d thought I knew loss.

I hadn’t.

Not in the way I knew now.

Desperation grew teeth. Claws. It became an animal inside me that knew no bounds, unspeakable, just as Jafir had tried to explain to me so long ago. It tore open my darkest thoughts, letting them unfurl like black wings.

When the end of the journey was in sight, Fergus said what I knew he would all along. I was to be Steffan’s wife. Jafir was to pay in flesh for his betrayal. For Fergus to give me what I had bargained for was the same as giving away power, and power was all that mattered to him, especially now that I had given him a new world and a fresh, limitless beginning was in his grasp.

There was no question in my mind what I would do. I had planned it for months. I killed Steffan first. He had possessively jerked me away when Fergus announced his decision, but in a quick, practiced turn, I buried my knife deep in his throat, and he gasped futilely for air. When Steffan fell dead at my feet, Fergus leapt at me, but Jafir was ready and brought his father down with a swift thrust into his heart. None mourned the loss of Fergus and Steffan, and Piers declared Jafir head of the clan.

“There,” Jafir had said when at last he saw the green hills and vines of fruit. “It is all yours, Morrighan. You led us here.” He reached out and plucked a handful of the wide blue sky and placed it in my palm.

“Ours, Jafir,” I answered.

I dropped to my knees and wept for all the days, the weeks, the months—and for the lost—those who didn’t finish the journey with us. Laurida, Tory, and the baby Jules. I wept for those I would never see again. Ama and my tribe. I wept for the cruelties.

Jafir knelt beside me, and we gave thanks, praying that this was truly the end, praying it was the new beginning we had sought.

We stood and watched as the clan ran ahead of us into the valley that would become our home. Jafir pressed his hand to the small mound growing in my belly and smiled.

Our hope.

“We have been blessed by the gods,” he said. “The cruelties of the world are behind us now. Our child will never know them.”

I closed my eyes, wanting to believe him. Wanting to forget the blood that had been spilled by our hands, wanting to believe we could start fresh, just as my tribe had in that small vale so long ago, wanting to believe that this time our peace would last.

And then I heard a familiar voice on the wind, one I had heard so many times, calling out to me.

From the loins of Morrighan,

Hope will be born.

On its heels came a whispered name that was always just beyond my reach, not yet mine to hear, but I knew that one day my children’s children or the ones who came after would hear it.

One day hope would have a name.

About the Author

Mary E. Pearson is the author of eight novels for teens, including The Kiss of Deception, The Heart of Betrayal, and the acclaimed Jenna Fox Chronicles. She writes full-time from her home in Carlsbad, California. marypearson. Or sign up for email updates here.

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Contents

Title Page

Notice

Epigraph

Introduction

Chapter One: Morrighan

Chapter Two: Morrighan

Chapter Three: Jafir

Chapter Four: Morrighan

Chapter Five: Morrighan

Chapter Six: Jafir

Chapter Seven: Morrighan

Chapter Eight: Morrighan

Chapter Nine: Jafir

Chapter Ten: Morrighan

Chapter Eleven: Morrighan

Chapter Twelve: Jafir

Chapter Thirteen: Morrighan

Chapter Fourteen: Jafir

Chapter Fifteen: Morrighan

Chapter Sixteen: Jafir

Chapter Seventeen: Morrighan

Chapter Eighteen: Jafir

Chapter Nineteen: Morrighan

Chapter Twenty: Morrighan

Chapter Twenty-One: Morrighan

About the Author

© 2016 by Mary E. Pearson

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eBook edition January 2016

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