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That meant nothing to her—well, except that if Anna Morgause was wary about this Morrigan, it would be wise to be even more wary. He laughed softly, mockingly. “You’re puzzled, of course. You wouldn’t know of the Morrigan. She is the Dark of the Moon to Cerridwen’s Full Moon. They know her well in Eire, though, and it was a wise woman of Eire that taught our Morgana of her. She is the chooser of the dead, the storm crow, the washer at the ford. She is power and chaos, and she suits our Morgana most perfectly. Even Mother was afraid of the Morrigan’s power.”

Gwen felt a cold that had nothing to do with the potions or her paralysis. It wasn’t wise to mix with the gods, the dark ones in particular. “Lot himself has always left Morgana alone, even though he lusts for her to this day. I often wonder if that wasn’t why Morgana pledged herself in the first place.”

Well, Gwen couldn’t fault Morgana for protecting herself from Lot, whose excesses rivaled those of his wife. But dealing with the dark side of the moon goddess—risky, risky business. Everyone knew there were always two sides to every Power, but dealing even with the bright side of the changeable Goddess of the Moon was a great deal like trying to bargain with the Folk of Annwn. Cerridwen was fickle enough; what was the Morrigan like?

It wasn’t wise to put a name to the dark ones, nor to give your name to them, and it was even more foolish to bargain with them. Not unless you wanted them to come for you one day, asking a payment much too high for what you got.

It did rather sound as if that was exactly what Morgana wanted.

“So, Mother didn’t argue with Morgana, she didn’t even chide her. She just said ‘Since you have told him, you might as well have the teaching of him.’ And that was what she did.” Gwen heard him get up from his chair and walk over to her pallet to peer down at her. The ceiling seemed to move in a slow circle, with his face as the center of it. “Ah, still with me. Good. It is really quite important that you hear this, my love. You need to understand just why it’s futile to resist me and important to love me.”

He sat back down in his chair, satisfied that she was still listening to him. “Naturally, Morgana told me everything then, not the least of which was how the Merlin had tried to have me killed when I was born. Morgana had seen just this thing in her scrying and had told Mother, so Mother had made certain I was safe by giving birth early. By that, Morgana was as much my mother as she was, if not more. Well! When she told me that, I was all for pledging to the Morrigan myself! Unfortunately, the Morrigan does not accept males.” He sighed, theatrically. “Nevertheless, Morgana taught me and kept me safe from my brothers until I could defend myself. Shortly after that, Mother decided that it would be a fine idea to wed Morgana to your father. She had intended him for herself, but her magics were thwarted.”

Oh, Gwen remembered that all too well.

“Now I would imagine at this point, you are wondering why Morgana didn’t ensnare your father. She was more powerful than mother, and the moon goddesses, bright and dark, are goddesses of passion and love. It’s a logical question.” The chair creaked as Medraut leaned back in it. “The answer is simple enough. She didn’t want him. Why would she? He was an old man, more than old enough to be her father.” After a pause, he began to laugh, harder and harder, the sound filling up the entire room, battering her ears. After what seemed like far too long, his laughter died down. “Oh, my. That was funny. You should be able to understand her feelings perfectly, my love. After all you are married to an old man who is more than old enough to be your father.”

As Gwen teetered on the edge of unconsciousness, it came to her in a last moment of pure nausea that for once, Medraut was right; she did understand Morgana’s feelings in that, if in nothing else. She understood them perfectly.

Gwen awoke, as usual, slowly. But as