““didn’t know what else to do, so I whispered a prayer to the Morrigan, the triple goddess of blood and battles. Maybe not the most appropriate deity, under the circumstances, but the one to whom I most often prayed. My throat was parched, and my voice, when I tried to say the first of the three names of the Raven Goddess, came out as a crow’s rasp. “Macha . . .” I licked my lips and tried again. “Macha. Red Nemain. Badb Catha . . . hear me. Wind, carry my words. Shadows and darkness, see my plight. Let the Morrigan hear my plea. Give me strength to vanquish my enemies and wreak my vengeance . . .” I whispered the prayer over and over again until finally I slipped into a deep, exhausted sleep.””
