Chapter Text
Taylor Dannan
May 1996 – Somewhere in the mists near The Dark Hedges in County Antrim.
It was supposed to be safe. They were in Ireland for a conference on English Historical Linguistics and associated subjects. Danny had taken a couple of weeks off work from the Dockworkers, what with the sinking of the Pride of Marie that was the end of the “Winter of Discontent” in April.
Annette stumbles over a rock pile in the mists as her head swims from the effect of whatever was on that things claws. As she reaches out with her right hand, it catches on a grave marker without slowing her fall at all.
Desperately she lifts the baby carrier that Taylor’s thankfully still sleeping in. As the rough landing wakes Taylor, Annette looks up at her hand and elbow that’s still clutching the top of the grave marker. As Taylor starts wailing, Annette fancies that she can see a light through the mist.
It takes her three attempts to stagger back to her feet without her right hand. Grabbing the carrier, Annette says, “Shh, shh, we’ll be safe soon honey. There’s help just over there.”
She stumbles over another grave as she heads toward the light, a Giant of a woman looms out of the mist in front of her holding a sword in one hand.
Annette looks up at the woman, “Pl-please, help us. Call the police, an ambulance, anything.”
The woman crouches down in front of her and reaches out with one hand. In strangely accented English, she says, “I cannot help you. You are dying and beyond the help of mortals.”
Annette swallows and nods, as she sags to the floor, “I thought so, can you save Danny, my husband. If not, look after Taylor, she needs a mother.”
As Annette tries to push herself back up, she looks stupidly at her left arm, that now ends at her elbow. The woman moves and easily lifts both Annette and Taylor up in her arms. Annette imagines that the woman’s eyes glow with power as she looks back the way Annette came from.
“I am sorry, but your husband has already passed to Donn’s domain. He did not sell his life cheaply. I will take you somewhere comfortable for your last moments.”
“I… What about the villains that attacked us?”
“I will deal with them later. For now, I will comfort you as you pass on.”
“I…I don’t want to die.”
As the woman puts Annette down on a bed she says, “But it is going to happen anyway. Tell me about your life, about your family.”
Annette chuckles morbidly, “Sure. I guess you’re wondering why a Yank is in Ireland. I’m an English professor at Brockton Bay University. We’d decided that as I was already coming to Ireland for an English Conference at Trinity College, we’d also make a holiday of it before Taylor started to walk. Then the strikes started last November, and we sort of forgot about it. That was until the plane and conference tickets arrived last month.”
Annette pauses to stare as the Woman puts one of her feet on the floor. As the woman cuts Taylor out of the baby carrier, and hands her a strip of leather to suck on, she says, “I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Annette Hebert, and you already know Taylor.”
The woman nods, “It is no bother, the niceties of life fall by the wayside in matters of life and death. I am The Great Queen, Morrígan. I am Badb. I am Macha. And I am Ana who was Danu.”
Annette laughs again, “Fancy that, I got to meet a goddess. Why don’t my arms hurt?”
Gently Morrígan says, “There is some sort of curse inside you that is making you forget you have your limbs. It does not feel divine, otherwise I might have been able to halt it. So, I am merely keeping you calm, as there’s no point panicking when you can’t change your fate. You have my condolences.”
“Thank you I think. Taylor likes you.”
“I have had my own child. But you were telling me of your own life, and that of your husband.”
Annette nods as Morrígan deftly catches her other foot and puts it on the floor. As she talks, the limb loss progresses until it reaches her pelvis. At which point it slows down as it moves up her torso one vertebra at a time.
As she starts struggling to breathe, Annette looks over at Morrígan and gasps, “Morrígan.”
Morrígan nods, “Yes Annette?”
“Promise me, that you’ll, raise, Taylor, as if, she, was, your, own, daugh-ter.”
“I…”
“Pro-mise, me, pl-ease.”
As the curse removes Annettes heart, Morrígan nods gravely, “I promise.”
As proof of her word, Morrígan bears her breast before slicing it open just above her nipple. As Annette soundlessly gasps, she picks up Taylor and holds her to the nipple until the baby latches on and starts to suckle a mix of milk and blood.
As Taylor starts to glow, Morrígan says, “By blood I claim this babe as my daughter. By magic I claim this babe as my daughter. By right I claim this babe as my daughter. To her family she shall be known as Acgarat, to the world she will be known as Taylor.”
Annette smiles as the light fades from her eyes.
Once Taylor finishes feeding, Morrígan lays her down to sleep before gathering up Annette’s body and carrying her out to the graveyard. There she buries her amongst her followers a tears stream down her face.
As the last of her tears fall, she takes up her sword and shield before walking into the mist as a raven feather cape flows around her shoulders.
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Taylor touches her birth parents wedding photo as she finishes getting ready for school. Somewhat reluctantly, she picks up her backpack and trudges downstairs to the kitchen, where her blood mother, Morgana, is cooking breakfast.
“Good morning maith thú amáin.” [Cherished one]
“Morning mom.”
“Why so glum?”
“Do I really have to go to school? Can’t I just learn from you and our family?”
“Acgarat, I know that the school is far from the best. But we are living in the mortal world, and mortal law says you must attend school until you’re 18. Besides, what about your friends.”
Taylor considers outright lying, before she settles on an evasion, “I don’t really have any friends.”
Morgana shakes her head as she pours out a couple of bowls of porridge and adds some dried apples, sultanas, and blackberries. “What about Charlotte or Marianne?”
“I barely know them. Not like…”
“Emma. I know. But you have known Marianne since you were old enough to start going to Ren-fairs with me. And you’ve gotten to know Charlotte since she started seeking you out for protection.”
“Marianne doesn’t even go to Winslow. She goes to the,” Taylor waves her hand in the air, “school.”
Morgana makes a sour face, “I know, but we cannot lay her parents misdeeds in her lap.”
“Hey, Marianne’s mom’s not bad.”
“I know, but remember her father was killed by one of his victims. Enough dithering, eat your porridge, I’ve got some French toast warming in the oven.”
Taylor sighs, “Yes mom.”
“And don’t you forget it. Oh, and your godparents are expecting you tonight, as I’m doing a seminar on Greek history. The university has arranged for various universities from Aleph to teleconference in.”
Taylor smiles, as Kurt and Lacey let her do mortal teenager stuff, like watching TV and going to the arcade.
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Taylor holds her nose as she approaches her locker, the sounds of laughter from the other end of the corridor making her antsy. Just as she’s finished putting her bag in the locker, she hears Charlotte’s voice faintly.
Looking at the ceiling, she says, “Mother, give me patience.”
Squaring her shoulders, she briskly walks down the corridor to the crowd of girls and shoves her way through. Once she’s got a bit closer, she can see Charlotte struggling with Emma as Emma’s trying to push her into her locker. A locker that looks like it’s been used as an abattoir.
Taylor pulls Emma off of Charlotte and rounds on her, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Emma sneers at Taylor, “What’s it to you dweeb?”
Taylor’s about to respond when something hits her hard around the back of the head and she sees stars. Reflexively, she spins around and punches out at whoever hit her. Only to hit nothing. As she’s trying to regather her wits and look for her attacker, someone puts a backpack over her head and shoves her backwards as Charlotte screams. There’s a clang of metal as the door to the locker slams shut, followed by the click of the padlock being driven home.
As she finally shakes the stars out of her eyes Charlotte’s scream fills the corridor as she’s shoved into a neighbouring locker. While it’s bad, some of the things her family have put her through have been just as bad in different ways. But that’s what you get for having a war goddess as a mother.
As the laughing disappears through one of the doors at either end of the corridor, Taylor shouts, “Charlotte, it’s ok. Someone will let us out eventually.”
It takes a couple more tries before Charlotte stops screaming and starts crying. “Why? Why did they do this to us?”
Taylor sighs and keeps her voice deliberately calm, “I have no idea. It’s almost like they want us to get powers and tear the school down around their ears.”
Charlotte’s sobbing pauses as she chokes out, “What?”
“Well, how often do you hear about something terrible happening and the whole thing being blamed on a villain that nobody knew existed before. Like that church back in 08. Struck by lightning 72 times in the space of five minutes.”
“Wasn’t that a torture victim.”
“Uh huh. But that came out after the PRT branded them a villain. South Mary High School in Plymouth New Hampshire, a villain ran amok and killed 20 children. A few weeks later the police released a report saying that the villain was a bullied kid, and they went after their bullies.”
“How do you know all this?”
Taylor forces a chuckle, “Mom’s an archaeologist. She keeps track of these things when she’s looking for something easy to do. Anyway, now you’re not freaking out, I’m going to see if I can get a signal.”
“You have your phone?”
Taylor pulls her phone out of the mist and starts looking at the signal. “Yep, I keep it in a safe place so that bitches like them can’t take it from me.”
When she gets no bars, she curses herself for not taking her mom’s lessons on making portals more seriously. “Drat.”
Charlotte’s voice sounds slightly panicky as she says, “What?”
“No bars. Probably because of all the metal. What did you do over the winter break?”
“Our main celebration is Chanukah, it started on the 20th and finished on the 28th for once.”
“Oh, cool. I didn’t know you weren’t Christian. Mom’ll love you.”
“Why?”
“Do you have any idea how many religions Christianity has wiped out across Europe, Africa, and America?”
“I’ve, never really thought about it.”
“Five or six that we have records about in Europe, and two famous ones in South America. There could have been many more. Gah, sorry, I’m channelling mom.”
“I never really thought about that.”
“If you ever meet her, don’t let mom get started on whether cities are a prerequisite on declaring a people a civilisation or not. I swear she’s worse than her husband.”
“Not dad?”
“They’re, uh, separated. It’s complicated.”
“Why are you even here? You’re so much smarter than anyone else here, I’m sure you could have got a scholarship anywhere.”
“Mom’s got tenure at Brockton Bay U, and my birth parents lived here. My god parents still do.”
“Oh, um. Sorry to hear that?”
“It’s fine, I’ve only ever heard stories about them. So it’s not like I can miss ‘em.”
“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Do you remember learning about The Butcher Shop Gang in Ireland?”
“Maybe?”
Taylor nods in her locker, “I think they were covered in World Issues just before summer break last year. They all had powers related to butchery, Jointer killed my birth mom by tagging her on the arm as she was trying to run away. They also had Boner and Skinner. My birth mom managed to get to mom’s house before she died. Mom adopted me and moved here after a vigilante slaughtered the gang and left them as a gruesome object lesson to other villains. What about your family?”
The two of them continue to chat as the period bells ring, interspersed with periods of banging on the inside of the lockers whenever they hear someone passing by.
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After the last bell rings, they both try to get attention. As the last of the students are filing out, Emma’s leg breaker, Sophia Hess, bangs on the lockers before hissing, “I hope you’re both cozy in there, as all the teachers think you both went home sick, and it’s set to get down to single digits tonight.”
As the bitch walks away, Taylor can hear Charlotte starting to have a panic attack. Taylor mutters, “Aunt Brigid would help, so would Aunt Airmed. But mom wants me to limit myself to mortal capabilities. Fuck it, I’m getting us out of here.”
With the ease of long practice, Taylor slips out of the locker and into the mist. Holding herself at the edge of the mist, she focuses on Charlotte’s locker and reaches out to pull Charlotte into the mist. As she does, Charlottes eyes roll back into her head, and her body shakes like she’s having a seizure.
Not knowing how to solve this, Taylor heads into the mists to a place she found near the Isle of Skye when she was eight.