Chapter 9
Morgan
I still find it odd that the Professor is part of all this. That he’s as old as the Guardians, if not older. His role is historian, documenting the Morrigan and her destruction through the centuries. He and Dylan hope that I will continue the trend by writing a firsthand account of the current attempt at evil taking over the world.
“Where’s the Valkyrie?” Christensen asks as we get to the dungeon door. It’s locked and I fish the key out of my pocket.
“She needed a break.”
The look he gives me is questioning, but he doesn’t say anything further. The door swings open and we’re assaulted by the smell, the stench from Anita’s cell. I flip on the exhaust fan built into the ceiling. An empty tray of food left this morning by either Davis or Sue sits on the floor. Anita’s expression doesn’t change when she sees her former supervisor, but unlike many other times I’ve been down here, she does speak.
“Came to see it for yourself? Gawk at me like a monkey in a cage?”
“I’m saddened to see it come to this. It didn’t have to.”
“No?” she asks. She bares her teeth. Maybe she is a little like a zoo animal. Is that what being caged does to a person?
“You could have told Morgan or Dylan how Bunny got the gate open. How you jumped from realm to realm.”
“And what? They’d let me go?” Her eyebrow arches. “My secrets are the only thing keeping me alive.”
“We’re not killers,” I tell her. “If anything, we’re the opposite—trying to stop this bloody virus from spreading further.”
She leans into the bars, clutching the iron with both hands. She glances between the two of us. “What if you could only get one thing from me? One secret, which would you pick?”
I sigh and rub my forehead. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re right, I do know things. I know how to get back to the Otherside. I know where Bunny is. I know how to stop the virus.” Her blue eyes skim over me. “I know where your precious guardians are being held.”
I shake my head. “I don’t believe you.”
She shrugs. “You figure out what you want to know the most, and maybe we can make a deal.”
Christensen has been silent next to me this whole time. I don’t know what he thinks of his former student. Or even what he thinks of me allowing her to live in such conditions.
“What sort of deal do you want?” he asks.
“I want to go back to my mistress.”
“Even though you’ve failed?”
Her body stiffens. “I’m bound to her—like you are to your little birds. In every lifetime, we find one another.”
Christensen’s eyes narrow, studying Anita closely, as though he’s searching for a memory.
“Tell me what you know,” I declare, “and I’ll send you back—in a casket.”
“You get one secret, Morgan. Only one. Choose well.”
I shake my head. Why does this girl think she dictates anything? Is it because she’s a spoiled brat? Is she delusional? Maybe I need to let her shower—have a little sunlight.
“What will it be? What will you pick?” She begins, in a sing-song voice. “Save three and spare one. Save a million but lose them all. Cut off the head and kill the rest. Wings and fingers. Ash and bone. Mix them together for the elixir of life.” She giggles, eyes glazed, and I sigh, gesturing for Christensen to follow me out.
Once we’re outside and the doors are locked he says, “I assume that’s why the Valkyrie needed a break?”
That and I tried to strangle her. “Partly.”
“Keep an eye on her. She may admit some truth in her delusions.” He stops in the stairwell. “I’m going to do a little research. See what I can come up with.”
“We can’t let her go back to the Morrigan. If she’s part of the three, then we need to keep her far away.”
He nods. “Her and you.”
I lean against the wall. “I have a feeling there’s little chance I’m avoiding a fight with the Morrigan, don’t you think?”
“Anita may be right. Certain moves may always come into play. You thought you could hold the Morrigan back by splitting her in three. You accomplished keeping her in the Otherside, but she still managed to slip her virus through before that. To stop it all you may have to all be bound once again.”
“And then what?” I’m trying to follow his train of thought.
He frowns, a sad expression that makes me not want to hear what he has to say next. “Morgan, you have to consider what Anita has already accepted.”
“What? That I’m batshit crazy?”
“No,” he shakes his head. I’m not ready for what he says next. “It’s possible that to achieve success and beat the Morrigan once and for all, you may have to embrace the Otherside and the Darkness that rules it.”
“You want me to join her?”
“No. I don’t want anything but to stop her. You’ve just got to figure out the best way to do that.”
He speaks in riddles—similar to Anita down the hall. I’m not sure what they want and I definitely don’t know if I can trust either of them.
“How do I embrace it—her?”
Again he answers, but in a most unhelpful way. “I suspect you’ll find out when the time comes. Do everything you can to be prepared for that moment.”