C.E. Murphy - Raven Calls

“I’ll have your head if I see you talking to my man in such a way again,” Méabh growled.

I rolled my eyes up, trying to meet her gaze without moving. “He started it.” Ah yes. Very mature, Joanne. “Besides, he’s not your man. He’s mi-aaaiii!”

“Mi-aaaiii!” was not the possessive pronoun I’d intended it to be. It was the sound of me being strong-armed straight backward, far enough away for Méabh to unsheathe her sword and waver it between Gancanagh and myself.

All my smarts left me and instead of calming her down, I baited her. “He’s your lover, remember? You probably don’t want to kill him. I sure don’t want you to.” I didn’t really care if she killed her own lover, since she’d apparently done it once already anyway. I just didn’t like the idea of this near-Morrison taking it in the teeth.

Méabh, who was apparently even more susceptible to Gancanagh than I was, snarled and moved the sword toward me. In a fit of unusual stupidity, I put both hands on either side of it and held it like I could keep her from skewering me by strength alone. I wasn’t an action hero, so there was no chance of that happening, but it looked cool. And I could keep her from skewering me by using magic, so maybe it wasn’t all that stupid after all.

It certainly got her attention, anyway. As calmly and slowly as I could, I said, “He’s not Ailill. He’s not Morrison. He’s not Cat’s dad, either. He’s a fairy and he’s screwing with us. But he says he’s going to lead us to the banshee, so if you can just keep that thing in your pants awhile longer, we’ll get there and you can have a nice big juicy fight. But right now Ganesh here has to get us there without us tearing ourselves apart over him. Okay?”

“Gancanagh,” he said, offended. I echoed that, too, mostly because I was pretty certain Ganesh was a god and didn’t want to offend it.

Méabh made him the recipient of a once-over I wouldn’t have wanted visited on me. Then she muttered, “Ailill’s eyes are blue, not green,” and stepped away, her mouth a grim line.

“Ol’ green-eyes, eh?” I said to Gancanagh. “Can’t change that, can you? Morrison’s eyes are blue, too.”

“So’re me da’s,” Cat said. She was still the only clearheaded one among us, because it was she who remembered to say, “Tipperary is a long way. How will we get there before nightfall, fairy man?”

“How far do you think we’ve come, my lass?” Gancanagh opened his hand to indicate the gloom we’d been marching through, and I finally looked beyond his glorious self to see that the landscape had changed.

Mountains had given way to trees quickly enough, but we’d left the forests behind, too, and were tromping through bogland. Stretches of low hills rolled out before us, and I could see we’d crested one, but I hadn’t particularly noticed the incline. Startled, I turned back, but the mountains had been swallowed by mist and darkness. “Hnh.”

“Hnh?” That was Caitríona, sounding suspicious.

“Nothing. It’s just kind of like the Lower World. Distance isn’t what it seems. I have to walk through it the long way, but my friend Coyote can skip and bounce all over the place.” I peered at the sun, but the gloom was too significant to tell whether it hung closer to the land than normal.

“It’s the fairy realm.” Gancanagh stopped beside me, suddenly very close and smelling very good, with his too-green gaze intent on mine. I swallowed and looked away, but that made it worse, because then his scent and body nearness seemed all the more Morrison. I wet my lips and looked back to find him smiling. Devilish, charming smile. The kind of smile that clearly needed either a kiss or a slap. Possibly both. I wet my lips again and he, being no fool, moved in for the kill.

But he had to tilt his chin up to do so. I was a good two inches taller than he was, but Morrison was exactly my height. Another mark against the seductive fairy. I got my hand between us just in time, croaked, “Walk,” and pushed him away.

In a world that made sense, he would have taken the hint and gone off all dejected. In the world I lived in, however, he looked more like I’d presented an unexpected challenge, and delight glinted in his eyes as he did as he was told.

Méabh stomped by, the weight of her footsteps putting my earlier stomp to shame. I started to protest my innocence, but Caitríona came along behind her, not so much stomping as seeming to propel herself forward by the force of exaggerated eye-rolling. Amusement overcame the feeling of unjust persecution and I tagged along behind them all, grinning. Gan’s voice drifted back to me: “This realm’s been tainted, it’s true, but I’m still part of it. It knows I’m not a threat, and lets me walk as I wish.”

His voice was like honey mead and warm chocolate, which I thought was cheating. Morrison’s voice was fine, particularly when lowered in intimacy, but Gancanagh had somehow kicked it up a notch. I clung to the content of his words, not the delivery, but it still took quite a lot of walking before I shook off the effects. “Wait, what do you mean, you’re part of it. That can’t be good, if it’s tainted.”

Gancanagh looked back at me. By all rights it was too gloomy to see well, and I wasn’t using the Sight, but his gaze was vivid and bright anyway. He breathed, “Sure and she doesn’t know much, does she,” briefly sounding more like an Irish monster than like Morrison, then went back to the more Americanized way of phrasing things. “Nothing’s all light and happiness, Walker. Seduction’s got its dark side, and so someone like me is susceptible to someone like him. And when you’re part of a pantheon that’s all magic, it’s easy for the corruption to spread. I wasn’t his way in, but I would never be able to stop him, either.”

I scurried to catch up with Méabh. “Are you two part of the same pantheon? I mean, you’re both…not human. You called him fae. You’re aos sí. I’m pretty sure that qualifies as fae.” I wished Gary was there. He’d know for sure.

Méabh scowled. “We’re all of us other than human, so we are. I’d not say I was of the likes of him.”

From her emphasis, I assumed everybody else would. “But you’re not gods, either. I mean, that’s what I’ve met so far, gods and monsters. You fae sorts are the first non-human non-monsters I’ve come across. I didn’t know there were things like you out there. I mean, where did you come from? I don’t even know if you’ve got North American counterparts. Not that I’ve run into, anyway.” I sighed. “On the other hand, there are plenty of people who’ve managed to be corrupted by the Master on my home turf, too, so even if the lineup is different I guess the results aren’t. Look, Gan, you’re also the first person I’ve talked to who was willing or maybe able to discuss the Master’s influence. So just how badly into this are you?”

He shrugged, which was distractingly attractive. “I’m nothing, really. He gets a lot more power from murders and black magic than from something like me, but if dark impulses are acted upon, he gains strength from them.”

“So couldn’t you ignore the impulses?”

He looked over his shoulder at me. “Could you ignore the magic that boils in your belly, all hot and ready, Walker?”

He really hadn’t needed to add the hot and ready part. My throat went dry and other parts of me went a bit hot and ready. “Jesus, Morris— Gancanagh. ”

“And why is it we’re trusting him?” Caitríona muttered.

It seemed like a good question, and I was pretty sure “Because he’s sexxxay” was the wrong answer. Méabh came up with a better one: “What choice have we? It’s this or chase werewolves, and Aili— Gancanagh —is finer to look upon.”