““Enough!” Sorcha said finally, rounding on me. “Have you really thought about what it means to be a warrior, Fallon?” I blinked at her, noticing for the first time the turbulence in her gaze. “Have you?” She sighed. “Because I have. It means you kill. You kill men. You kill women. All while they are trying very hard to kill you. And if one of them is better at it than you, then you die. Are you so eager to dance with death, little sister?” I was ten years old. I didn’t know what to say. What I should have said was “Don’t go.” But instead, I just pouted and stayed silent. Sorcha left our house and never returned to hear my answer to her question. That was the first night that the Morrigan visited me in my sleep and named me—me, not Sorcha—her daughter. It was a sacred thing, fearsome and awesome all at once, and I’d never told anyone. But I’d always kept the memory of her voice locked away in my heart.””
