Two Ravens and One Crow (Novella)

settle for anything less than hotness. Neither should she settle for anything less than joy. I hoped she would find someone to provide that for her since I couldn’t. For my part, I had not been trying very hard lately, and despite the general truth of what I’d told the Morrigan, I hadn’t made a booty call in quite some time. There were many beautiful, delightful, intelligent women in the area, especially in the college towns, but somehow they all fell short of Granuaile in my eyes, and I had been choosing to do without rather than settle for a sort of surrogate. It wasn’t celibacy, I told myself. It was high standards.
    »No,« I finally said. »She is my apprentice but isn’t mine in any other sense. I am a tad envious of her partners, perhaps, but nothing more. I am happy for her happiness.«
    The Morrigan scoffed openly. »Happiness? Neither of you is happy. Your auras scream of repression.«
    »That’s okay,« I said.
    »It is not. Sexual repression is conduct unbecoming a Celt.«
    I shrugged. »Better that than having to deal with guilt ferrets.«
    »What are guilt ferrets?«
    »They’re bastards. They cling to your neck and tickle and bite and generally make you miserable, which is a pretty good trick for a metaphor.« They were also impervious to logic—perhaps their most diabolical power. There was no cause for me to feel guilty about any liaisons with other women, since Granuaile and I were not in a relationship and monogamy was not required, but the guilt ferrets attacked me anyway every time.
    »I dislike guilt,« the Morrigan said. »It is regret and recrimination and despair over that which cannot be changed. It is like eating ashes for breakfast. It is the whip that clerics use on the laity, making the sheep slaves to whatever moral code the shepherds espouse. It is a catalyst for suicide and untold other acts of selfishness and stupidity. I cannot think of a more poisonous emotion.«
    »I don’t like it either,« I admitted.
    »So why do you bother to feel it?« the Morrigan asked.
    »Because an inability to feel guilt points to sociopathic tendencies.«
    The Morrigan made a purring noise deep in her throat, and her hands rose to pinch her nipples. »Oh, Siodhachan. Are you suggesting I’m a sociopath? You always say the sweetest things.«
    I took a step back and raised my own hands defensively. »No. No, that wasn’t meant to be sweet or flirtatious or anything.«
    »What’s the matter, Siodhachan?«
    »Nothing. I’m just not being sweet.«
    The Morrigan’s eyes dropped. »Fair enough. Looks to me like you’re scared stiff.«
    I looked down and discovered that the sodding abundance and fertility bindings weren’t messing around.
    »Ignore that guy,« I said, pointing down. »He’s always intruding on my conversations and poking his head in where he’s not wanted.«
    »But what if I want him?« The Morrigan had an expression on her face that was almost playful; it humanized her, and for a moment I forgot she was a bloodthirsty harbinger of death and realized how stunningly attractive she was. She reminded me of one of those old Patrick Nagel prints, except very much in three dimensions and far more sexy. I found it difficult to come up with a clever reply, perhaps because most of the blood that used to keep my brain functioning well had relocated elsewhere.
    »Well, um. Uh. Pretend I’m saying something witty right now. Also: nnnn—« I couldn’t say no. I wanted to, but I was physically unable to say it. I kept trying. »Nnnn …«
    The Morrigan laughed and drew closer, taking me into her hand. I tensed up, expecting pain. She chuckled a bit more about that and leaned forward to whisper in my ear.
    »Relax, Siodhachan. You have nothing to fear. You saw the bindings for harmony in this room. They work on me too. There can’t be harmony if you’re terrified, now, can there? So we will do it your way. This once.«
    Harmony, I discovered, could be horrifying. That was what kept me from saying no. There couldn’t be open disagreement in the presence of these bindings. Combined with fertility and abundance, what the Morrigan currently wanted was precisely what the bindings wanted. I was the one out of harmony, so I felt the force of it. I thought of simply exiting the room, and managed a single step before my legs refused to move any farther in that direction. »Do we have to do it at all?« I said, desperately.
    »You need it. So do I. And I can play nice when I want to.« Her