Hexed_ The Iron Druid Chronicles - Kevin Hearne [65]
“Yep. I lost it in the Superstition Mountains when I was killing Aenghus Óg for you. Speaking of which, did you tell Flidais to kidnap Oberon to make sure I showed up?”
The goddess sighed. “Yes.”
“I couldn’t agree more, Oberon,” I said. “Brighid, I want you to think a moment about what you have done here. I am the last man on this plane who worships you in the old way. I gave you full rites on Samhain just a few nights ago.” “Yes, but you gave them to the Morrigan too.” “As I should! And to Ogma. And to Manannan Mac Lir and all the rest. For they are my gods, as you are. And now to be served thus, after millennia of faith in your goodness and beauty and purity of spirit—and for what? Let’s have that answer now. Why did you truly want me to be your consort?” “I want the secret of your amulet. I can study it better in Tír na nÓg.” “Is that your sole motivation?” “No. It would thwart the Morrigan.” “Thwart her how? That’s more important to you, isn’t it?” “Yes. She wishes to be supreme in Tír na nÓg, and she is using you to make it happen.” “You are no better,” I pointed out. “You wish to be supreme, and you would use me the same way. I’m disgusted with you both. And you know what really chaps my hide here?” “It’s that you’ve come down so dramatically from your pedestal. I can’t even have a proper crisis of faith and vacillate between the image of perfection and my shattered illusions, because you’ve left no doubt that there is nothing divine about your nature. Do you not see how you have debased yourself, or do you persist in thinking that you acted justly in trying to kill me? Wait—don’t answer that yet.” An inconsistency demanded resolution. “Why did you try to kill me with fire?” Brighid shrugged. “Usually it gets the job done.” This admission—made under a spell that brooked no deceit—told me that Brighid still knew nothing about my deal with the Morrigan, or she wouldn’t have even tried to kill me. Regardless, it was perplexing behavior. “But you expressly knew that my amulet protects me from most magic,” I said. “Did you forget that?” “No. I just didn’t think it would prove strong enough to stand against me.” “Ah, you thought your magic was stronger than mine.” “Yes.” “When mortals take excessive pride in their abilities, it’s called hubris. I don’t think there’s a word for when immortals do the same.” She regarded me stonily, unrepentant. “So. What will you do when I release you from Fragarach?” She really didn’t want to answer this one, and I had to wait until the spell forced her to comply. “I will tear the amulet from your neck and then set you on fire once you are unprotected.” I sighed. She wouldn’t be able to tear the amulet from me, but that didn’t matter as much as her stated intentions. “Well, that puts us in a very awkward position, doesn’t it? I’d rather that both of us lived and found some way to part amicably. Tell me, Brighid, why do you feel I deserve to die?” “I still think you’re the Morrigan’s man. And you humiliated me.” “I’m not the Morrigan’s anything. I am my own man. And any humiliation you feel is justly deserved, because you have behaved inexcusably. We’ve already established that it was your actions, not mine, that breached hospitality. You’re behaving like a petulant child and not taking responsibility for your actions, like one of the blasted Olympians. And I would like to point out that you have not suffered publicly. No one knows what you have done. It can remain our secret, and I think that this is a breach we can mend. What say you? Are you willing to negotiate a peace, or are you resolved that I must die for imagined offenses?” “Release me and I will negotiate with you.” I laughed at her. “I wasn’t born yesterday, as the people here are fond of saying. For perhaps a short time you will negotiate. After that, you will try to kill me, correct?” Brighid gritted her teeth, frustrated that I had seen through her “truth” so easily. “Yes,”