“Ah, well your blessing means more to me than any other god,” he said quickly.
Morrigan narrowed her eyes. “You are a vile human,” she chastised him with her finger. “Any human that mocks a crone does not deserve my blessing.”
Lucius sighed. “I have a confession I must make.”
Morrigan raised a dark eyebrow, the movement rattling her crown of bones.
“I am actually a god trapped in this human’s body,” he told her. “The human summoned me here to help him win his war, but when I arrived, he used Druid magic to entrap me.”
“I thought your eyes looked peculiar,” she murmured as she came up closer to him, searching his face.
“Forgive me for the deception, I was not sure if you would be a friend or a foe,” Lucius explained, trying not to lose focus as her scent drifted into his nose, a richer, smokier version than he remembered from their days together. His rational mind scolded him, furious at how weak he’d suddenly become in her presence, their tumultuous past gradually fading away the more they spoke.
“Aye, it makes sense that you did,” she nodded. “Unfortunately, you are in a detestable body. It belongs to Cuhullin, a hero to the humans. He is Lugh’s son, so I cannot be rid of him, but he’s offended me many times. I long for the day I can watch him die.”
“Then I regret being trapped in such a vessel.”
She studied him for a moment, her hand settled on her hip bone. “I will help you,” she decided.
“What about the other gods?” he asked.
“I work alone.”
He had trouble containing his surprise. “Without your husband?”
Anger caught flame in her eyes. “Somehow you surmised that I am the strongest god nearby, and you summoned me accordingly. I am making the decision to help you, but if you speak any more about the husband I left far behind me, I will gut you like a fish.”
Lucius blinked, thoroughly taken aback. Not only had she become more deliciously combative than when he’d known her, but she had left Osiris. His mind spun at the possibilities. Perhaps he could remain in this human’s body and be with her again. It wasn’t a desirable shell by any means, but he could work around it. He thought about Isis waiting in the Underworld for him to return—perhaps she could figure out a way to bring them back to earth, as Osiris and Nephthys had done. She would chastise him for even considering being with Nephthys again after how much pain she’d caused him, but she’d eventually come around. It’s not like he could blame her if she did protest—logically, he knew he was a damned fool but at the moment, he did not care.
“Are you alright?” Morrigan asked.
“Yes,” he mumbled. “It just feels strange to be here.”
She laughed. “Yes, but it is a wonderful realm, is it not? Do you feel the cold breeze on your skin, the fresh air in your lungs? ‘Tis perfect. Come, I will take you to a friend who can help you. You can tell me about yourself as we walk.”
“Oh, forgive me. I am Hades, King of the Underworld.”
She stopped in her tracks and he watched a shadow cross over her face, as if his words reminded her of something. He held his breath, hoping she wouldn’t realize who he really was. Not yet, he thought, just give me a bit more time.
“You are the second creature I have met who spoke to me of this Underworld,” she told him. “On the battlefield, after the fight had ended and only the crows were left to feast, I saw the ghost of a man who wanted to know why I had abandoned the Underworld. He was greatly upset, telling me I was supposed to take care of the souls there. I never heard of such a place before, and now in two separate instances, it has been mentioned.”
Lucius hoped his face didn’t betray his confusion. “I am surprised you are not familiar with the Underworld. I thought all gods have knowledge of the realms.”
“No,” she admitted as she resumed her pace. “My first memory is when I woke up on Earth, covered in mud.”
“You have no memories of your previous lives?”
“I was told it was the Druids who brought us to life,” she explained. “It is said that all of us have souls from different realms, and that Daghda and I once lived in one together, centuries ago. Yet I cannot recall any of it.”
“Strange,” Lucius remarked as they moved deeper into the woods, crunching through sticks and fallen leaves. “Well, the Underworld is quite beautiful in its own right. The work serves me well, but I do miss the feeling of sun on my face.”
“You were on Earth before?” She looked up at him.
“Long ago,” he admitted. “But only in the desert where there is parched earth and dusty air.”
Abruptly, she grabbed his arm. It took everything in him not to scoop her up in response. He couldn’t believe he’d spent such a long time away from her and the incessant desire still remained. He tried to replace it with memories of his death in Egypt, recalling his hatred, but it was fruitless. The pain diminished over time.
“I remember the desert,” she whispered, her eyes wide. “I remember leafy palms and falcons soaring through the clear skies. How can I remember something I have never seen?”
“Perhaps, once you have taken me to see your friend, you could ask one of your Druids for help?” he gently suggested. “They seem to be the ones who have the magic in this realm.”
“Aye…” she murmured, releasing his arm as she walked ahead of him.
“So you knew the man whose body I am in?” he asked, trailing after her.
“Yes, he is a detestable man,” she told him with a sneer. “I am a shapeshifter, which is what I use when I need to work amongst the humans. An old woman had her farm ransacked and one of her cows stolen. So, I took on her form and stole the cow back from those who snatched her. Apparently, I was on Cuhullin’s land and he chased after me, threatening my life. When I shifted into a raven, he let me go and begged for forgiveness.”
“Which you did not give him.” Lucius smiled.
“Of course not,” Morrigan huffed. “How despicable must you be to steal an old woman’s cow, then threaten her when she takes back what is rightfully hers?”
“Well, I would never want to be on your bad side,” he said. Then he added before he could help himself, “One would think the humans would be falling over themselves to win the favor of such a beautiful goddess, especially one so deadly.”
She halted her march once more. “You should not play with me,” she warned him, though her stance had softened. “I have not felt the touch of a man in a very long time.”
Lucius met her eyes and his resolve instantly gone, his blood screaming to touch her. Before he could step forward to obey, they were interrupted by a loud rustling in the bushes. He turned to see a giant satyr with a long, scraggly beard and a pair of antlers that arched up out of his skull, seeming to graze the heavens. The creature grinned as soon as his eyes fell on Morrigan, and the old familiar pang of jealousy promptly lit a fire in Lucius’s stomach.
“Phantom Queen,” the creature greeted her. “What brings you into my woods?”
