No Dominion The Walker Papers - By CE Murphy Page 0,41
of my soul. He didn’t say a word, which was worse than talking, ‘cause it gave me room to hear everything he was seeing in me, and everything he was thinking.
He didn’t think the Morrígan was dead, not for a minute, but she was hurt bad enough that he had to come patch her up, and I was the mortal with the magic sword. I might not have put his Girl Friday down for the count, but I’d scraped her up with it, an’ I got the idea that made me interesting. Interesting meant something for him to deal with.
He went through me like a deck of cards, lifting every part of my life up, glancing at its face and casting it away. The kid I’d been, living out in White Center, Washington before Seattle grew up big enough and absorbed it. Tinkering with cars that looked simple compared to today’s machines, but at least a guy could fix ‘em. The first girl I’d ever kissed, and then standing for her groom at a wedding a couple years later. The complicated pride on my ma’s face when I joined the Army ‘cause it was the only way I’d finish the college education she wanted me to have. The first time I saw Annie Macready, and knew I was gonna marry that girl.
He hooked onta that and spun it out so fast I couldn’t follow, even after living it. Then he fell back with a death’s head grin on his bony old face, said, “She will be my vengeance,” and turned his skinny, arrogant back on me.
I never saw red before, not like they talk about doing, but I did then. Blood red misting over everything except the son of a bitch threatening my wife’s life, an’ he stood out like a lighthouse beacon, best target in a hundred miles. Imelda was moving before I even knew I’d put heels to her, and Jo’s rapier was lifted like it had a life of its own. Blazing blue, connecting me to her across the years, and for one crazy second I thought it was all gonna end right there.
The Master, casual-like, threw his staff over his shoulder. A blast of power shot at me, bigger than the last and twice as fast. I couldn’t get the rapier between me an’ it quick enough. The last thought that rolled through my mind was sorry, darlin’.
A raven came up outta nowhere and took the hit for me.
Black magic exploded around it, washing off shields of white and gold. The raven tumbled wings over tail-tip, shedding feathers as it fell. I lurched for it, tryin’ ta catch it, and Imelda stepped quick enough that I snagged it without tumbling from the sky myself. The bird lay in my hands, me gawking and it panting like a dog. Fast as it had lost ‘em, its feathers grew back in, but bleach-white. Then it turned into something like a cave painting of a raven insteada the bird itself. Just lines, representing instead of containing. That idea sank into my hands, made ‘em warm, and the warmth ran through me until it settled in the back of my mind. Settled on top of a tortoise shell, where it preened white feathers, gave me a one-eyed look, then tucked its head under a wing to rest.
It all took about half a breath. When I looked up, Jimmy crack corn, the Master’d gone away. Down to the fight, I thought, ‘cause he probably had to pick up the Morrígan before he lit out of there, assuming he was the sort of fella who ran from a fight. I was in a hurry to go find out, but Cernunnos was in front of me, some of the stag gone from his face so more human curiosity could show through. “You are not her father, or her grandfather, but the ties that bind you—” He did somethin’ with his hands that made me think of a raven’s flight, then shook his head. “Be glad, Master Muldoon, that you have such affinity with Joanne. I think nothing else would have had the strength to shield you from that blow. The raven belongs to him as much as to her. It is a carrion-eater, after all.”
“And a trickster.” Sleeping or not, the bleached bird was waiting there at the back of my mind along with the tortoise. Two spirit guides, when a year ago I’d have never dreamed of having even one. Jo had