“Sorceress… please. Break the spell,” the Crow Goddess whispered. “Our sister, the Morrigan, knows you… and respects you. She knows that you are strong and powerful… but never cruel.”

Perenelle stepped back into the corridor and wrenched one of the spears from the mud, breaking the pattern. Instantly, the thrumming she’d been only vaguely aware of vanished and the bitter metallic-tasting air was filled with the normal smells of the underground tunnel: salt and foul mud, rotting fish and seaweed. Holding the spear tightly in both hands, the Sorceress returned to the cell. “This had better not be a trick,” she warned. As she brought the spear closer to the Crow Goddess, the head began to glow. Then it popped alight, cold black-white light streaming from it. Perenelle touched the tip of the glowing spear to the small pile of feathers beneath the web and they sizzled, smoked, then curled and crisped. The stink of burning feathers made Perenelle’s eyes water and drove her back out of the cell.

The goddess’s eyes blinked in the curling smoke. “No trick…”

And then a shudder ran through the body caught in the web and the red and yellow colors flowed from the eyes, leaving them black and empty. “They lie!” the Morrigan screeched. “Do not listen to them!”

Perenelle raised the spear high, bringing the lustrous metal head almost level with the Crow Goddess’s face. The black-white light washed over her green-tinged skin and the goddess squeezed her eyes shut and tried and failed to twist her head away. When she opened her eyes again, the red and yellow of the Badb and the Macha had returned. The eyes started flickering from color to color as the two sisters spoke.

“The Morrigan tricked us,” the Badb said.

“Imprisoned us, enchanted us, cursed us…,” the Macha added.

“She used a foul necromancy spell she learned from Dee’s predecessor to bind our spirits, enslave us, then render us powerless…”

“We have been trapped under enchantment for centuries,” red-eyed Macha said. “Able to see and hear all that our sister saw and heard, but unable to do anything, unable to move, to act…”

“But the corrosive effect of the Symbols of Binding loosened the spell and allowed us to regain control of this flesh.”

“What do you want?” Perenelle asked, curious, but strangely saddened by the story.