My Guardians land beside me and immediately surround me in their favourite defensive formation.

“Guys, I can look after myself,” I complain, but they don’t budge. I sigh and head towards the front of the dragon flock. All of them are still in their dragon shape, except for one. Dewi. Her hair is wrapped around her head like a crown and her body is covered in an armour that looks like it’s made from dragon scales. It’s beautiful and probably very efficient. And if she’s lucky, it’s even lighter than my own. I’ve almost got used to the feeling of wearing my armour, but after being on the dragon, my bones are a little stiff.

How much time has passed since I spoke to the other Gods? Fifteen minutes perhaps? Twenty? Let’s hope the Morrigan is still here. And Flora. Alive. I don’t think I can hope for unharmed, not after what she said earlier, but at least alive. Crispin is here with me and he’s the best healer in my Realm. He’ll look after her.

“She’s here, I can feel her. Down below, not far. She’s weak though. We need to hurry.”

“Can your people keep watch up here?” I ask and she nods. “I can feel demons all around us but for some reason, they haven’t reacted yet. How did we get through their defences? There must have been some?”

Dewi grins. “Dragon scales repel magic. You must have been close enough to us not to be affected.”

“That’s a useful skill to have,” Storm says in surprise. Seems I’m not the only one who didn’t know this before. These dragons turn out to be even more useful allies by the second.

“Lead on,” I tell her and Dewi’s smile disappears, giving way to a more guarded, serious expression.

“I could probably teleport us there, but who knows how many demons are waiting for us inside the castle. Safer to take the longer route.”

I nod in agreement and she heads towards a door in one of the walls, almost invisible because it’s the same stone as everything else. I’m keeping my magic at the ready. Not seeing a single demon so far is making me very suspicious. There are no demons on the walls because there’s lava there that would burn them alive, but still, there are two doors leading into the courtyard we’re in and neither has opened.

I feel like we’re being watched, but my magic doesn’t show anyone nearby. Strange. And very, very worrying.

Dewi opens the door, her hands extended, ready to throw magic at whoever is awaiting us, but the dark corridor is empty.

“There are demons below us, but none on this level,” I whisper. Dewi walks a little faster and we hurry to follow. When we reach some stairs leading down, she stops and I concentrate on my magic again.

“Ten demons waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs. More up ahead, but I don’t think there are any really powerful ones.”

“We’ll deal with them,” Storm announces and steps forward, followed by the other Guardians.

I’m about to protest, but Dewi holds me back.

“Let them. They need to feel needed,” she whispers. “It’s the same with Agierth. Sometimes, you just need to step back and let them do their protector thing.”

I sigh and stay where I am, although I still keep my magic at the ready. Just because I’m not with my Guardians doesn’t mean I’m leaving them to fight on their own. I’m not that kind of woman.

Screams come from the other end of the stairs, but those aren’t the voices of my Guardians. They are demon screams, raw and full of pain. Good riddance. I wish I could feel empathy for them, but after one of them abducted my parents and tortured them in the process, I no longer can. Right now, they’re nothing but obstacles in my way to reach the Morrigan.

“Clear!” Storm shouts from below and I hurry down the stairs, followed by Dewi. I ignore the corpses on the ground and the blood stains on my men’s armour. They are not important.

“Two more floors down,” Dewi informs us. “Flora’s in pain. Our connection is getting stronger, I can almost feel the pain myself now.” She shudders visibly. “Let’s hurry up.”

She doesn’t let the Guardians take the lead this time. Instead, she rushes ahead and only stops when I tell her that more demons are coming. There are five of them and I kill them with an icicle each through the heart. Nobody says a word and we hurry on. This is war, there’s no time for sentimentality.

Twenty dead demons and two more staircases later, we arrive in the dungeons. They’re just like you’d imagine prison cells in an evil fortress to look like. Rusty bars in front of dark, small compartments. It reeks of pain and decay. I suppress a shiver.

“Is she close?” I ask Dewi and the Goddess nods.

“Just up ahead.”

A moment later, a scream confirms her words. Flora.

We run towards the pained wails that echo through the stone corridor. Suddenly, a demon steps in our way. He’s fat, there’s no other word for it. His belly is bulging over a leather belt from which hang… are those shrunken… ehm… cocks? I avert my eyes and focus on the rest of him instead. He’s bald, but there’s a shimmering green rash all over his grey skin. Weeping sores cover his face and one of his eyes is missing. This might be the ugliest demon I’ve ever seen.

"The Mistress promised me some playtime," he growls in a raspy, disgustingly sultry voice. "So good of you to come."

"Who are you?" Dewi asks, her magic flaring around her arms, ready to be unleashed.

"My name is Cristian and I'm the Morrigan's personal representative in this Realm."

I snicker loudly. "Not for much longer."

He turns his eyes on me... ehm, his eye. It's bloodshot and surrounded by tiny warts. Yucky. It's almost a pity that demons don't have an aura to hide their faces. For once, I'd quite like to not see someone's expression.

"Who wants to be first?" he asks and suddenly, a large spiked mace appears in his hand. There's dried blood on the spikes, presumably a souvenir from his last victim.

"How about you?" I ask and shove some icicles towards him. They never reach him though, breaking into a million tiny shards a foot in front of him. There's a barrier I didn't notice. How did I not realise? I concentrate but I still can't feel anything in the air between us. Strange, does that mean I can't recognise demon magic? That's a scary thought.

At least I can sense them… well, not this one. He seems to be more powerful than the demons we’ve encountered in this castle before. I hope he’s the only one of his kind.

I conjure some more icicles and fire them at him from behind, but again, there’s an invisible barrier that stops them. He laughs at my efforts. This is becoming tedious. If ice won’t work, then I’ll show him that I have other magic at my disposal.

I create a giant fireball and throw it at him from above, while at the same time funnelling a small tornado all around him to dispel the barrier. His grin disappears and makes way to a concentrated frown. His barrier is finally giving way and the first sparks of my fireball reach him. He screams as flames lick at his skin. Some of the sores on his face burst as they get in contact with the fire and his wails increase. He’s looking even more disgusting now, with burns and weird slime covering his skin. Let’s end this quickly so I don’t have to look at him anymore.

I fan the flames with my magic and throw an icicle at his heart for good measure. This time, it reaches its target and with a squelching sound, embeds itself in the demon’s chest. He stares at me in surprise, then crumples to the floor, dead.

“What a weirdo,” Dewi mutters and steps over the corpse, her aura full of disgust. A cry from the end of the corridor makes us run again. Flora sounds like she’s in agony. The stupid demon distracted us for too long.

We reach a thick wooden door. It’s locked, but Storm blasts it open with his wind magic until it splinters and bangs open. I’m the first to step into the room and have to stop the bile from rising in my throat. We’re inside a torture chamber.

Strange instruments litter the walls and shelves, iron chains hang from the ceiling and very painful looking contraptions are standing all around. I recognise an Iron Maiden in the corner, even though I know that they were never actually used on Earth, they were a Victorian invention for curiosity cabinets. I push that useless fact from my mind. This really isn’t the time.

A large metal table is in the centre of the room and on it, Flora, her arms and legs shackles so she’s in a spread eagle position. She’s naked, too, and I can’t even imagine the humiliation she must be experiencing. She’s a Goddess, and here she is, completely exposed and at someone else’s mercy.

Her face is covered in bruises and sweat, and there are bloody lash marks all over her body. She’s suffered. All I want is to free her and take her into my arms, healing her wounds, but there’s one tiny problem to deal with first. The person who did this to her. No, not a person. A monster.

“Oh look, we have guests.”

The Morrigan materialises in front of the torture table, dressed in a long black gown and wearing a silver crown. Look at that, she fancies herself a Queen already. Not if I can help it.

“This ends now,” I growl and create a barrier all around us. I know Dewi could probably create her own, but I’m the most powerful one of all of us.

“Oh yes, it certainly will.” She laughs. “I’ve waited for you to come and try and free your friend. Isn’t she pretty? I’ve had a lot of fun with her.”

Rage overwhelms all rational thought and I throw all the magic I have at her. Fire, wind, ice, water, even a mental attack. Most of it crashes against a barrier she’s created, but one of my weapons reaches her.

She gasps in pain and looks down at herself. Her gaze wanders to me, her eyes widened in shock, then she keels over, the icicle embedded in her heart. Red blood is flowing from the wound, drenching her dress. I want to cheer and celebrate, but something is wrong. This was too easy. Far too easy. If it was this simple to kill the Morrigan, someone would have already done it.

“Stay on your guard,” I whisper to the others and use my magic to feel around the room. “This isn’t over yet.”

Crispin bends down beside the Morrigan’s body and runs his hands over it, his healing magic springing into action.

“She’s dead,” he confirms, but then his aura turns the turquoise colour of surprise. “She’s… No, this can’t be. She’s a Guardian. The Morrigan isn’t a Goddess.”

Suddenly, everything makes sense. Why she was so easy to kill. How she was able to speak to Angus and be in Flora’s dungeon at the same time.

“That’s because this isn’t the real Morrigan,” I say slowly. “This was a clone, like the Crispin imposters.”

A flash of light fills the room, followed by an amused cackle in a very familiar voice.

The Morrigan appears from a cloud of smoke, clapping loudly. “Finally. Well done, sweetie. I’m glad you got rid of her so quickly, killing dragons was getting boring.”

Dewi screams in anger and rage, and suddenly, there’s a dragon by my side, only a fraction of her usual size, but large enough to be a formidable foe. I didn’t know dragons could control their size, but it sure comes in handy in a confined space such as this room. She bares her teeth and a stream of icy breath hurtles towards the Morrigan, but she easily deflects it, laughing as if this was all a game.

“I’m going to enjoy having three Goddesses stuffed in my museum,” she cackles. “You, Wyn, will be the centrepiece. I’ll make dear little Crispin clean your dead body daily so you won’t gather dust.”

“What an honour.” I sneer. “But I’m afraid you’re not going to be here for long enough to do that.”

I pull at the bond that connects me to my Guardians, the signal we agreed. When we planned how to take down the Morrigan, we didn’t think Dewi would be in the room, so she’s not aware of our plan. I hope she’ll catch on though.

Storm and Frost let out battle cries and run at the Morrigan, their swords blazing. She swats them away like flies, but it’s enough of a distraction for Arc to launch a mental attack. Beira created the Morrigan to have incredible physical and magical powers, but she didn’t give her particularly impressive mental strength. She frowns, but then decides that Arc doesn’t pose a threat to her. A sword appears in her hand and she swings it around a few times, almost playfully. Storm stalks her from behind, but without turning around, she sends a ball of black magic that crashes into his chest, throwing him against the wall. He looks dazed, but he gets up and joins his brother. We all know that they have no chance against her, but they’re just there to keep her occupied for now.

I’m busy weaving a net of magic, made of all the elements I have control over, even earth, the most volatile of them all. While I’m doing that, Arc is still trying to weaken her mental barriers, while Crispin has run to Flora’s side, his hands already forming patterns over her injured body. He gives me a nod. Good, she’ll be alright.

Dewi roars again and launches herself at the Morrigan – and slams against an invisible barrier that wasn’t there moments ago. She wails in pain, blood running down her face. She growls in anger and pushes against the barrier, her claws raking against it. It’s too strong, but the dragon doesn’t give in.

My net is almost done when the Morrigan suddenly laughs. It’s the worst possible sound. She extends a hand, her fingers stretched into claws, and points at Crispin. He freezes, terror filling his aura. I don’t know if she’s using magic on him or if it’s just a mind fuck, but Crispin has stopped healing Flora and is now slowly moving toward the Morrigan.

“That’s it, my pet,” she purrs. “Come to mummy. I’ve missed you.”

I want to throw up in disgust. Frost and Storm are trying to distract her, but with a flick of her other hand, both are flung against the wall and stay there, suspended against the stone, unable to move. Dewi is still trying to get through the barrier and Arc’s got his eyes closed, focussing on breaking the Morrigan’s mind. I’m the only one left.

I complete the final knot of my magic net and throw it at the Morrigan. Miraculously, it passes through the barrier, just like I’d hoped. It’s too many different kinds of magic at once, and it confuses the barrier. As soon as the net touches the Morrigan, she screams in pain. Her hold on Storm and Frost breaks and they fall to the floor, weak but conscious.

Crispin has stopped moving towards his creator, but he’s not retreating either.

The Morrigan tries to get the net off her, but whenever she uses one kind of magic against it, it changes. This was Algonquin’s idea, something he’d read about in the library.

I focus on the net to figure out what magic is most harmful to the Morrigan. Earth and fire. I smile. Earth is difficult in here without toppling the castle, but fire is easy. We’re surrounded by an active volcano, and fire magic is permeating the air around me.

I slowly change the configuration of the net and add some more fire magic. Flames begin to flicker all around the Morrigan and she curses as they touch her skin.

“You have fire magic.” Her eyes are wide as she stares at the flames licking on her dress. “Your mother didn’t.”

I push more magic into the fire. “I’m not my mother.”

I can see the moment the penny drops. She knew my mother couldn’t kill her. She relied on that still to be true. She thought we were here just to capture her. I almost want to laugh at her disbelief.

“You won’t succeed,” she hisses and suddenly, black magic surrounds her, quenching the flames. Oh no, you don’t. I grasp more magic from deep inside of me and pour it into the remains of the net. The Morrigan’s succeeding in not letting it burn her, but she doesn’t have the strength to go on the offensive again. Just how I want to have her.

“Crispin?” I shout. “Do you want to do it?”

At first, he doesn’t respond and I’m about to ask one of the other guys when he nods slowly. Like in a trance, he moves towards the Morrigan, catching the sword that Storm throws him. She turns to him, shock reflecting on her face. She knows this is the end.

My magic is fighting me, almost spent, but I force her to keep the flames alive, trapping the Morrigan in place. It’s not been a long fight, but I’ve never used this much magic at once. My body is getting weaker and I feel myself sway, but then Dewi is there, steadying me.

Crispin stops in front of the Morrigan, the tip of his sword pointing at her chest.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time,” he whispers. “I really hope there’s no afterlife.”

My vision begins to flicker, but I can’t stop now. More magic is needed.

“Now!” I shout just when my grip on my magic loosens. Crispin lunges forward, the sword slicing into the Morrigan’s chest, ripping through flesh and piercing her black heart.

I smile and crumble to the ground, unable to stand any longer. The flicker in front of my eyes changes and suddenly, a flash of light erases the auras that have hidden my Guardian’s faces from me. I can see them again.

For about two seconds, before I’m thrown into the dark room without warning.

“Is she dead?” Angus asks before anyone else can say something. “The demons suddenly stopped fighting. We weren’t sure if it’s a trick or not.”

“Yes, she’s dead,” I say, smiling. I rub my eyes, unable to believe that we didn’t just defeat the Morrigan, but that I also got my old vision back. I’ll be able to see them properly again. Look into their eyes. Admire their faces.

I feel free for the first time in ages. Despite all the work that still needs doing, a massive weight has been lifted from my shoulders. The Morrigan is dead. My mothers have been avenged.

Now, we can finally live in peace.