Sleep was alluding her, as well, and it would give me a chance to speak with her.
I moved toward her, but something was wrong and I froze once again in the shadows. A dark light shimmered over her body, flickering and swirling up and down the length of her. It made her appear as a mirage. I blinked my eyes closed, but she was the same when I reopened them.
And then she was no longer my mother. Her body twisted and contorted and she morphed into Morgan le Fey, the half-sister of the king. She stood quietly for a moment, completely still. But while her dark blue eyes stared straight ahead, I was able to see something within them.
She was Eris. Morgan was actually Eris, the goddess of strife and discord- my polar opposite. She had been a thorn in my side for several millennia and she had never been more devious than she was as Morgan.
In fascination, I watched her catch her breath, lifting a shaking hand to tuck a long tendril of dark hair out of her face. Eris had kidnapped Cadmus in the Spiritlands-feeding him a love potion to make him think that he loved her. I never had a chance to confront her about that because the Fates had enslaved her and in fact, that was where she currently was now—trapped in an empty fire pit with them on Calypso’s island.
My fingers itched to carry out vengeance on this version of Eris… to scratch Morgan le Fey’s eyes out- to use my goddess strength and hurl her from the nearest balcony.
But I did not. I clenched my hands tightly at my sides instead, knowing that I was likely drawing blood with my fingernails. Contempt filled me up and I had to literally fight with myself to contain it.
What was Morgan doing in Arthur’s chamber? Especially disguised as my mother?
And then realization, a dark, hideous theory, dawned on me and I swallowed my own bile. Surely, even Eris wouldn’t… surely not. She didn’t sleep with her own brother disguised as Guinevere. That would be positively the worst thing I had ever known her to do.
But I knew that she was agitated with him. She and Arthur Pendragon shared the same mother. It was his father, Uther, who had the royal blood and Morgan had always resented him for that. When I was here last, I suspected her of sabotaging the king, but it had not been her who had ultimately done it. Or had she? Had she been involved all along?
The heavy bedchamber door interrupted my musings as it creaked open once again and Arthur stepped into the hall, his face flushed and golden hair disheveled.
Courtney Cole 23
With My Last Breath, Book Three
"Ginny…" he began, using his pet name for Guinevere.
But at his voice, Morgan turned and Arthur saw her face- dressed in exactly the same clothing that he had just seen his wife wearing. The wife that he thought he had just made love to. If I had doubted that before, the look on his face clarified it for me.
"What the…" he stuttered, reaching out to touch the hem of her nightgown’s bell sleeve. Confusion spun across his face and then revulsion as he realized the depths of his sister’s treachery. He took an automatic step backward. I imagined that his face mirrored my own from a moment ago, the picture of absolute horror.
"Morgan…" he began and then trailed off. "What is the meaning of this?"
One thing about Arthur, regardless of the many times Morgan had given him pause or reason to doubt her, he always believed the best in her, as well as everyone else. He knew, along with the rest of the kingdom, that his sister had witch-like tendencies but he overlooked them out of loyalty to her. His idealistic ideas would eventually be his undoing. His good heart just couldn’t fathom that darkness truly did exist.
Morgan laughed and I heard Eris in the evil cackle that resonated down the empty hall. I flinched away from it as my heart broke for Arthur. He loved Guinevere to distraction. This would kill him and his face already spoke to that.
"What have you done to me?" he whispered. "Why?"
She shrugged her bony shoulders. "Why not? You do not deserve all that you have, dear brother. Why does the simple matter of paternity determine our greatness?
We share the same mother, yet you are king. How is that fair?"
"That is simply the way things are, Morgan," he stated wearily. "You know that it is not something that I control."
"No," she sneered. "But as king, you control everything else in this land. However, if your beloved subjects ever discover that you had a love affair with your very own sister, I fear that they shall turn from you, brother."
She pasted an innocent look onto her face and I wanted to vomit.
"You wouldn’t," Arthur uttered. "Why would you?"
"Don’t ever say that I wouldn’t, " Morgan smiled evilly. "Trust me, I would."
Arthur was speechless as he stared at his sister. I saw every emotion possible roll across his face…betrayal, disgust, sadness. Morgan leaned forward, peering into the darkness. She shook her head in frustration and snapped her fingers. The torch nearest to her exploded into flames, licking at the stone wall.
Arthur gasped and I realized that while Morgan might not realize her true identity, she had certainly learned to tap into at least some of her goddess powers. My air sucked out of me. Perfect. I would have an unbalanced psychopath on my hands armed with immortal supernatural power. This night kept getting better and better.
Courtney Cole 24
With My Last Breath, Book Three
"What, brother?" she grinned. "I just wanted to see your handsome face more clearly." She stepped forward and trailed her fingers lightly across his cheek. He flinched away from her.
"What?" she whispered into his ear as she ran her other hand across his chest. "You didn’t mind my touch a few minutes ago."
"I thought you were my wife," he spit angrily. "Everyone knows of my love for Guinevere. No one will believe you."
"They’ll believe their own eyes, brother," she replied, pulling something out of her robe pocket. Opening her hand, she revealed a small crystal globe. Tossing it onto the stone floor, it shattered and dark blue smoke filled the corridor. Out of the wispy tendrils, two figures emerged. Arthur and Morgan.
Clearly she had contrived this illusion, but it was very convincing as I watched the two smoky figures embrace. Reaching for each other, they kissed and allowed their hands to roam freely over each other’s body. Once again, I had to swallow my revulsion. As the two figures tumbled to the floor lovingly, I closed my eyes.
"If you performed such a trick for anyone else, you would be burned as a witch,"