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told you when I would return it. «
    » Cathéide! « Brighid shouted, and she was suddenly transformed from barbarian princess to badass knight, covered from head to toe in magnificent armor she had made herself. It was one of the coolest bindings I’d ever seen.
    I recognized the armor; she had made it specifically to counter Fragarach and be the immovable object to its unstoppable force. The armor came with a weapon: She hefted a massive bastard sword in her right hand and kindled a ball of flame in the gauntlet of her left, then set herself defensively on the hill next to her throne.
    These two had hated each other for as long as I could remember, but I never thought they’d actually throw down. Maybe I just hoped it. But I never hoped I’d be in the way.

Chapter 4
    A hush fell over the Court as the Morrigan and Brighid faced off. Perun could no longer contain his enthusiasm. After spending years as an eagle, within the past hour he’d been seriously flirted with, watched two goddesses appear starkers, then saw them prepare for battle. Joy in every syllable, he shouted, » Yes! I love Irish peoples! «
    The Fae thought this funny and erupted in laughter behind us. The Tuatha Dé Danann, not so much—except the Morrigan. She chuckled and lowered Fragarach, but Brighid didn’t budge.
    » You may relax, Brighid, « the Morrigan said, her red eyes cooling down to their normal dark brown. » I am not here for battle. I am here to fulfill a promise. You see that I have the Druid’s sword. I’ve been holding it for a good while now. « The tone of her voice made clear to everyone that she was enjoying the double entendre. The Morrigan’s mouth twitched upward at the corners.
    » The Druid is quite the swordsman. I’m sure you can imagine. Of course, imagining is all you’ll ever be able to do. «
    I wanted to tell the Morrigan to shut up, but I didn’t dare. She was dangerously close to revealing that she knew Brighid had offered herself to me. I’d promised Brighid never to tell anyone about it, but the Morrigan had guessed the truth. Brighid would probably not care about such distinctions if the Morrigan made it public now. She’d be humiliated in front of all Faerie and she’d want to char someone to a cinder as a result.
    Brighid didn’t move or say anything, and it was her best option. The Morrigan would hardly want to charge her when Brighid held the high ground; it didn’t matter that the Morrigan was Chooser of the Slain—it wouldn’t be fun. She’d be set on fire, for one thing. And taking a quick glance at the hill in the magical spectrum, I could see that said hill was warded extensively and prickling with defensive traps. You’d have to be insane to charge Brighid there, and the Morrigan wasn’t; she was malevolent and petty and damn scary on a regular basis, but not insane.
    She could see that Brighid was ignoring her gibes, so she resorted to outright mockery. » It’s odd that a goddess of poetry should be at such a loss for words. Does this mean no one in the mortal world can remember their dirty limericks right now? «
    » Return the sword as you promised and leave, « Brighid said.
    » There’s an effort! « the Morrigan crowed. » You managed a line of pentameter. « She rested the flat of the blade on top of her shoulder, holding it casually, the way a baseball player might while walking to the plate. With seeming indifference to Brighid, she strolled to her left toward Manannan Mac Lir. She knew Brighid wasn’t going to move off her hill; she’d effectively trapped her there. If Brighid left, she’d surrender all her advantages in battle—and you needed every advantage you could get if you were going to cross swords with the Morrigan.
    Manannan stood from his chair and waited, his hood up and his arms crossed underneath his cloak. The entire Court grew still and strained to hear whatever might be said, for Manannan did not speak often in public. The Morrigan paused in front of him