Perenelle gasped. She had a sudden image of the skies above San Francisco filled with ravenous vampires, the sewers crawling with boggarts and trolls, peists in the bay, Windigo and cluricauns in the streets. “There would be carnage.”

“That is the idea,” the Morrigan whispered. “How do you think the humani would react if they saw monsters of myth and legend in the streets and skies?”

“With terror, disbelief.” Perenelle took a deep shuddering breath. “Civilization would fall.”

“It has fallen before,” the Morrigan said dismissively.

“And risen,” Perenelle said quickly.

“It will not rise again. I have heard rumors that there are similar collections-armies, zoos, menageries, call them what you will-on every continent. I would imagine they will be loosed on the world on the same day. The humani armies will waste themselves and their weapons against the creatures… and then, when they are exhausted and weakened, those you call the Dark Elders will return to the earth.” The Crow Goddess laughed, then broke into a quick racking cough. “Well, that is the plan. Of course, this cannot happen if Dee does not get the last two pages of the Codex. Without the Final Summoning, the Shadowrealms cannot be drawn into alignment.” She coughed again. “I wonder what Dee’s master has in store for him if he fails? Something cruel, no doubt,” she added almost gleefully.

“But I thought he was your friend?” Perenelle said, surprised again. “You’ve worked with him down through the centuries.”

“Never by choice,” the Morrigan snapped. “I am commanded to do Dee’s bidding by those Elders he serves.” She attempted to turn in the sticky web, but the strands tightened, holding her closer. “And see where it has led me.” A glistening black tear gathered at the corner of her eye and then rolled down her cheek. “I will die here today, poisoned by the Symbols of Binding, and I will never see the sky again.”

Perenelle watched the black tear drip off the Morrigan’s chin. The moment it left her flesh, it turned into a snow-white feather, which floated gently to the ground. “Perhaps Dee will send someone to rescue you.”

“I doubt that.” The Crow Goddess coughed. “If I die it would be nothing more than an inconvenience. Dee would get a new servant from his Elder master and I would be forgotten.”

“It seems we have both been betrayed by the Magician,” Perenelle whispered. She watched another black tear fall from the Crow Goddess’s face and curl into a white feather the moment it dripped off her chin. “Morrigan… I wish… I wish I could help you,” Perenelle admitted, “but I’m not sure I can trust you.”