Kate Daniels 02 - Magic Burns

until they hit rock bottom. I hugged Julie to me. Her mother must’ve loved her a great deal, because she picked herself up and she started climbing. She had fought her way into the Carpenter Guild, which couldn’t have been easy with all the competition out there. She became a journeyman, which was a hard step up from apprentice. She was trying to keep her daughter off the street.
    â€œYou never told me your mother’s name.”
    â€œJessica,” Julie said. “Her name’s Jessica Olsen.”
    Hold on, Jessica. I’ll find you. And I’ll keep your baby safe. Nothing will happen to Julie.
    As if sensing what I was thinking, Julie squirmed closer to me and we sat quietly, cloaked in the warm night.
    â€œTell me about the coven. Was your mom in long?”
    â€œNot long. Couple of months. She said they were worshipping a great goddess and we’d all be rich soon.”
    I sighed. When we found Esmeralda, she and I would have a nice long talk. “You don’t really get rich from worshipping. Especially not Morrigan.”
    â€œWhat kind of a goddess is she?”
    â€œCeltic kind. Old Irish. There are a few versions of her, so I’ll tell you what I think might be close to the truth. Morrigan is three goddesses rolled into one. She changes depending on what she wants to do. Kind of like putting on different outfits. It’s called having divine aspects. Sometimes she is the goddess of fertility and prosperity and her name is Annan. I’m guessing that’s the aspect your mom worshipped. Annan also guides dead people to their resting place in the Otherworld. That’s the place where the Celtic dead live. The second aspect is Macha. She oversees kingship, governance, and horses. The third aspect is Badb, the great battle crow.” I paused. In light of Julie’s missing mom, mentioning that the Badb drank the blood of the fallen and reveled in the slaughter was not a good idea.
    â€œI’ve forgotten what the first one is called.” Julie’s voice gained a slight sleepy thickness. Excellent. She needed sleep and so did I.
    â€œIt doesn’t really matter. They’re all Morrigan.”
    â€œWho did she battle?”
    â€œFomorians. That’s the thing to remember about gods: they always have someone to fight. Greek gods fought Titans, Viking gods fought Frost Giants, and Irish gods fought Fomorians, the sea-demons. Morrigan kicked a lot of butt, and finally the Fomorians were driven into the sea.” My Celtic mythology was a bit rusty. I’d have to brush up the first chance I got. Nobody could hope to remember all of the mythological heavyweights, so the trick wasn’t to know everything. The trick was to know enough to figure out where to find the rest.
    â€œSo why can’t you get rich worshipping her?” Julie yawned.
    â€œBecause Morrigan doesn’t grant wishes. She makes deals. That means she always wants something in return.” Only fools made bargains with deities.
    She closed her eyes. Good. Sleep, Julie.
    â€œKate?”
    â€œMmm?”
    â€œHow did your mom die?”
    I opened my mouth to lie. The response was automatic: I hid my blood, I hid my magic, and I hid the truth of where I came from. But for some odd reason, the lie didn’t come out. I wanted to tell her the real story. Or at least a part of it. I never spoke of it and now the words itched my tongue.
    What’s the harm? She was only a child. It would be like a twisted good-night story. She would forget it by morning.
    â€œI was only a few weeks old. My father and mother were running away. A man was chasing them. He was very powerful and evil. My mother knew that of the two of them my dad was the stronger one. She was slowing him down.”
    My voice shook a little. I didn’t expect the words to be so hard.
    â€œSo my mother gave me to my dad and told him to run. She would delay the evil man as long as she could. He didn’t want to go but he realized it was the only way to save me. The evil man caught my mom and they fought. She stabbed him in the eye, but he was very powerful, and she couldn’t kill him. And that’s how my mother died.”
    I tucked the blanket around her.
    â€œThat’s a sad story.”
    â€œIt is.” It’s not finished, either. Not by a long shot.
    She patted the afghan still on my lap. “Did you make this?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œIt’s nice. Can I use