Hunted (The Iron Druid Chronicles, Book Six)

address
. A vision appeared in my head of a short stone obelisk etched with Ogham script.
Do you see it?
    Yes, but—
    Record it well in your memory. Circle the island. On the side facing upstream, look closely at the tree line and
you will see someone there you might wish to retrieve. If you do, ask Goibhniu for help
.
    Morrigan. Why?
    Because I am trapped and this is the only way out. And because you have chosen, and you have chosen well. I cannot fault her
.
    I lost a step or two as the import of her words sank in. Granuaile shot a worried glance at me and I shook my head once, reassuring her that nothing was wrong.
But … Morrigan, you never said anything
.
    Would it have mattered? Would you have ever chosen me?
    I don’t know. But I didn’t get a chance
.
    Every day was a chance, Siodhachan. Two thousand years of days. If you were interested, you had ample opportunity to express it. I understand. I frighten you. I frighten everyone, and that is a fact I cannot escape, however I may wish otherwise
.
    Well … yeah. You’re fighting off two Olympians right now and having this conversation. That’s frightening
.
    They came prepared. Their fabrics are synthetic. I cannot bind them. And they are very skilled, trying to wound my right side and affect my magic
.
    Morrigan, just get out of there. You saved me and we have a lead now
.
    No. This is the choice I have made. It is only recently I have tried to change in earnest—I mean since you slew Aenghus Óg—and discovered that somehow change has become impossible for me. I cannot make friends. I cannot be gentle except under the most extraordinary circumstances. My nature will not allow it. All I can do is terrify, seduce, and choose the slain. Is that not strange? Long ago I was merely a Druid like you and could do whatever I wished. But once I became a goddess, certain expectations came with the power. Call them chains, rather. I didn’t notice them until I tried to break free. My
nature now is no longer my own to do with as I please. I can be only what my people want me to be
.
    I’m sorry. I didn’t know
.
    I tell you so that you may grow wiser. It is a hidden law of godhood, and woe unto she who finds it. I have been trying to deny its reality, but it has asserted itself too often to be anything but the truth. Yet I have some comfort now
.
    You do?
    Here is my victory, Siodhachan: I am permitted to do battle, and I do not need a reason. Still, I usually have one, and that reason can be whatever I wish. So today I do not fight for glory or honor or bloodlust or vengeance. I fight for … something else
.
    I understand. But say it anyway. For the win
.
    Love
.
    Morrigan, I—
    I felt as if something popped softly in my head, like the release of tension when a taut cord is cut. Or a binding. There was a sudden emptiness, and an overwhelming sense of vertigo caused me to stumble over a root and execute a graceless face-plant.
    Morrigan?
The silence in my head pointed to only one conclusion. Our mental bond had been like the soft electric hum of kitchen appliances or computers that you never notice until they stop. During a rather painful ritual that had regenerated an ear I’d lost to a demon, she’d slipped in the binding that allowed her to speak to me telepathically. It was gone now.
    “Atticus, what happened?” Granuaile helped me to my feet and gasped when she saw my face. “Are you hurt? Why are you crying?”
    She let go of my arm and then had to grab it again when I swayed on my feet, still a bit dizzy. “The Morrigan is dead,” I said.

Chapter 2
    “Think you can carry your staff in your mouth as a horse?” I asked, to forestall any questions about what happened. I rubbed away my tears with the heel of my palm. Granuaile understood and didn’t press the issue, though her voice sounded hollowed out by shock.
    “I suppose I could.”
    “Good. Leave your clothes here.” I began to strip and tried to clear my head of its dizziness by taking several deep breaths. “We really need to make time. We’ll hoof it and recharge from the earth as we go.”
    Granuaile peeled off her shirt. “The Morrigan said the Old Ways would be collapsed or guarded,” she said, recalling what the goddess had said to us before we took off running. “Are we going to fight our way through and use one of those?”
    “I think we’ll be running all the way to England. Or to France, anyway, then we’ll swim the channel.”
    “We’re seriously running