The Witch's Hunger (The Fay Morgan Chronicles Book 3) (9 page)

His face was ash and bone. “Morgan, you must see. No one blames you. The Grail was the greatest relic the world ever knew. Of course it corrupted you. Had anyone else drank from that cup more than once, it would have destroyed them. Your path was admirable. Of course over time it bound you.”

“You know nothing,” I hissed. “You think you are so grand, the great and powerful Merlin. What have you done to earn your long years? What have you done since the days of Arthur?”

His arms, held out widely, dropped to his side. “I’ve loved you. And I’m here, Morgan. I’m still here, despite everything. Tell me what you need. Just don’t shut me out again.”

I smiled. The first smile that had graced my face in months. “Anything?” I asked, and threw my spell at him.

It was a piece of driftwood, salted and smooth, that sailed through the air toward Merlin’s head.

He raised his hand reflexively and caught it. Because he trusted me.

That was a mistake.

His fingers wound around the wood and my magic, simple and pure, pulsed into him.

He paled further. “A death spell, lass?” he whispered. He threw the wood down and glared at me as his myriad protection spells pulsed bright around him. They unmade my spell. The death-thing fell to his feet and lay there, shriveling and pulsing for a few seconds before it disappeared.

“I never want to see you again. I’ve always hated immortals and their long and boring lives,” I said. “It was only recently that I realized I hated the both of us most of all. My next spell will be far more cunning.”

“Again,” he said. “You turn me away. Again. I will not come for you again. I will leave you to your own destruction, that you are so thoroughly hell bent on finding.” Clutching his chest as though the death spell was still upon him, he disappeared from my island.

So be it.

16

Half the World Away…

Half the world away, Lila lay in her bed, tossing and turning, sweating and muttering in her sleep. She dreamed of fire so white hot and encompassing it burned her. She dreamed of being stuck in a place with smooth walls, so small she had to sit curled up. She dreamed of her skin growing tough and thick, like a scab covering her whole body.

In her small studio apartment she cried out wordlessly as she tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable. Her body began to glow, softly at first, and then brighter. It lifted an inch up into the air, and then another as her strange dreams held her. Her entire body writhed and grew longer for a moment, before shrinking back to normal size. Her body rose higher, as though fighting against gravity.

When she woke in the morning, she had a blinding head ache. Her first thought was,
I need Morgan. She’ll protect me.

The pain lifted. The moment passed, and the thought drifted away. Like always, Lila got dressed and went to work.

Katherine Sparrow is the author of the ongoing series “The Fay Morgan Chronicles” as well as dozens of short stories that have been published widely. She’s been nominated for a Nebula Award and attended the Clarion West Writers Workshop.

She got into the whole writing thing about fifteen years ago when she decided that she might as well do what she loves and feel passionate about, because life is short. When she’s not writing, she’s chasing around two adorable and exasperating young children, enjoying Seattle's ample and lovely gloom, and dreaming about an immortal witch and all the trouble she can get into.

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