Lucius’s face flushed with embarrassment, gesturing for David to remove her from the room. He complied, unnerved to see her wearing such an uncharacteristic expression.
No sooner did he reach her, did the man before them begin to scream in such a manner that the two knights holding him backed away in alarm. He gripped his skull as if something tried to burrow its way out, his rigid fingers pulling away tufts of his silver hair. His already substantial limbs appeared to grow larger, bursting through the confines of his clothing, his entire body convulsing as it slowly stretched itself beyond human proportion.
Before Lucius could react, there was a loud pop and a clank, and the iron chains that were wrapped around the man ruptured and fell, shattering as they hit the stone floor. Within moments, what stood before them was no longer a man, but a mammoth sized wolf, its wide, maniacal eyes glistening as its enormous mouth opened to reveal teeth dripping with saliva. The creature was so large, it dwarfed the nemorti who stared up at him in blatant consternation, its head grazing the wood beams that decorated the ceiling. It ripped away the tattered remains of his makeshift costume, letting out a roar so loud, it thundered throughout the chamber.
The room promptly erupted into chaos, nemorti forced to employ their unrefined power as the wolf began tearing its way through them. They were no match for its incredible strength, torn limbs and dismembered heads soaring across the room as rotten blood showered the hall in a fetid spray.
“Lucius, resolve this!” David cried out, as he shielded the weakened Morrigan from flying appendages and broken furnishings.
He caught sight of his sire, whose wide eyes betrayed his bewilderment as he stood, motionless, staring at hands that produced no fire, only tiny sparks that interrupted the tendrils of smoke diffusing from them like the cinders of an extinguished fire. His knights grabbed him by his arms, hoisting him out of the room for his own protection before he had time to object. David watched as they slammed shut the heavy arched doors against Lucius’s protestations, leaving whatever was left of the court to the mercy of the voracious beast.
David pulled Morrigan behind an upturned table, contemplating his next move. He hadn’t been in battle for many years, but he knew his body was still strong, even in the absence of his powers. He surmised that he could hold the beast off long enough for Lucius to convince his knight to let him back in to retrieve his beloved Morgana. His eyes caught sight of the hearty flames still alive in the fireplace, wondering how he might use them to his advantage.
Suddenly two small hands cupped his face, directing it downwards.
Morrigan’s eyes sparkled even though her lips were dry and bloodless. “Daghda, you must take me. It is the only way that my dormant powers can be used.”
David stared at her blankly before realizing the implications behind her words. He shook his head vehemently. “No.”
Her lips turned upwards, momentarily softening her expression. “I know your love for me is deep, but that is why you must honor my request. How many more times must I beg you to free me from this life? Lucius does not have the strength to do it. It must be you. If you do not take my powers through my blood, the wolf will be your end as well.”
Shrieks, howls, and the horrible sounds of tearing flesh created a lurid harmony around them.
“How do you know it will work?” David pointed out in desperation, searching her eyes for any bend in her resolve.
“I was once a very powerful god, my love, with many allies. I have known this was my gift to give you for some time now, one that I planned on offering you as my time on this earth came to a close. I didn’t realize it would happen so soon, but although I played along in Lucius’s presence, I know there is no cure that can rid me of Delicia.”
“You cannot ask this of me,” David repeated.
“I am not asking, I am demanding, and you would do well not to ignore me,” she warned, though her face was still soft. “I am done with this life, with this abominable body. Drink of my blood and use my power until I one day return. Follow the wolf until you find a woman named Hekate. She holds all the answers that you seek.”
“You want me to follow the wolf?” he repeated, his tone incredulous. “This is madness.”
“I promise more shall be revealed to you, but our time is running out. Drink from me, Daghda, please.”
Although bedlam ensued all around them, the world grew still. He tried to comprehend her words, to truly understand their meaning, but flashes of Gaia on her deathbed danced morosely before his eyes, distracting him. He could barely distinguish the memory from the present, holding Morrigan in his arms as he had once held her, with the resolute knowledge that this moment would be their last. “Why must every woman I love end up dying?” he whispered, ashamed of his vulnerability.
“Oh, you shall see me again, my sweet, broken David,” she promised as her cold hands caressed the sides of his lightly whiskered face. “The bond between the Daghda and the Morrigan transcends all time. I will always find you.” Her last words were singed with resolve as she lifted herself up to press their mouths together, her lips tasting of smoke and rain-soaked earth. And then, she fell back, and in one ruthless gesture, tore the large vein in her neck with her taloned fingernails, pulling David against her.
The scent released into the air proved irresistible to him, her decayed but powerful blood a tantalizing elixir spilling down the smooth planes of her pale skin. David tried to resist, but her grasp on him was firm, and before he could stop himself, he drank.
Her secrets spilled into him as her body crumpled into his, visions of the archaic war goddess with her crow skull diadem and wild, matted hair, the violent sexual romps between Morgana and Lucius, covered in each other’s inky black ichor. David felt her fingers through his hair, pressing him harder against her flesh. He heard the immobilized Delicia screaming for him to stop, her own memories invading the Morrigan’s as she tried desperately to break free. He saw her life in flashes, the fawn-haired cherub raised by a monster, laughing as her father beat his slaves into submission, the genesis of her ritualistic bloodletting, the rise of her power in Rome.
And then, strangely enough, he saw Gaia, her radiant smile in the solstice sun and her olive eyes twinkling around the freckled bridge of her nose. Images of the three women danced together, the lines between them blurring until Delicia dissolved into nothingness, leaving Morrigan and Gaia linked together, as if they were one. He wasn’t given a moment more to consider these visions when an effusion of power released out of Morrigan and burrowed into him, crows shrieking disapproval inside his skull as they clawed irately at his insides. The sensation threw him back from her now unconscious body, his muscles trembling and his skin rippling with intensity. “Find the woman Hekate,” her voice echoed in his head.
The table that had been shielding them was suddenly upended, revealing the massive, snarling beast, its hoary fur drenched in the blood of dozens of slaughtered creatures. It roared at David, its rank breath hot on his face as it advanced, positioning its open jaws around his head, its claws stretched wide.
David’s body surrendered to the shuddering energy that was pulsating throughout it, his bones and tendons suddenly snapping and popping as his muscles expanded, pain threatening his consciousness. It was the antithesis of his avian transformation, the restrictive pressure he once felt replaced by the sensation of expansion, as if he was being pulled apart from all angles. He howled, defenseless against it, at the mercy of the excruciating metamorphosis. Fortunately, the agony passed, and soon he was standing near eye level with the beast, wolf to wolf.
Startled, the creature stepped back, and David discovered that at last, he could hear its thoughts.
“I warned the tyrant I would murder them all,” it said telepathically.
“What are you?” David asked him in the same manner of communication.
“I am the vargr Fenrir, killer of gods, son of Loki, who fused me to Baldur, son of Odin, the All-Father. I am varcolac!” the wolf declared with an air of pride.
David didn’t waste any time, his body humming with the essence of the Morrigan. “Can you take me to a woman named Hekate?”
The wolf looked surprised, but nodded. “I can.”
The sound of Lucius screeching orders behind the barricaded doors reaffirmed the warning. David heard clanging metal as the nemorti brigade scrambled to honor their prince’s request. It occurred to him that it would be in his best interest if he was not present when Lucius discovered the lifeless body of Morgana. He couldn’t bear to look back at it himself.
The varcolac abruptly leapt from where they stood, crashing through the only window in the hall. The shattered pane of sooted glass created a nightmarish mosaic on a floor already marred by the remains of dismembered creatures. The shards and pools of spilt blood sparkled in the freely exposed moonlight.
David leapt up after him, pleasantly surprised by his newfound canine agility. He followed the varcolac closely, appreciating how well his four legs worked together to propel him across the castle grounds. They also aided him as the two creatures scaled the castle walls, oblivious to the ineffective wooden arrows whizzing past them as nemorti guards scrambled to protect their fortress.
They landed easily in the surrounding green and within moments, were concealed by the vast coniferous woodland that enclosed the castle. The tightly packed spruces and firs obscured the radiant moonlit sky as the two wolves wove through their sturdy trunks, tearing up a floor dense with moss and layers of dried needles. David’s vaporous breath betrayed the frosty, pre-winter air, even though his coat of thick auburn fur prevented him from feeling its chill. Although the varcolac exceeded him in size, David was able to keep its pace, wondering how much farther down the mountain it would take them.
As soon as the depth of their descent ensured there would be no interruption from the stronghold above, the varcolac paused to snatch a wayward hare, killing it instantly in its oversized paw.
“Haven’t you eaten enough?” David thought before he could help himself.
The wolf grinned, exposing a mouth of ridged fangs unevenly crammed together. “I killed for you.” It threw the hare at him, which David caught and devoured before its blood had a chance to cool. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was, and was grateful for the unexpected renewal of energy.
They continued deeper into the woods at a modified pace until the varcolac finally paused. David stiffened as well, his supernatural senses picking up aromas foreign to those of the Carpathian Mountains.
Suddenly, a ring of torches roared to life around them. The varcolac bellowed in protest as a net barbed with silver ensnared him without warning. The beast cowered to the ground in easy defeat, wincing as the metal brushed against him. David realized that exactly twelve spears made of the same metal were aimed directly where he stood.
