Cuchulainn was saddling his gelding and preparing to ride back to find out what had happened to his sister when the three of them trotted up to the front of the Mare's Inn. He was all set to lecture Elphame about the dangers of disregarding his warrior senses, but the sight of them made all thoughts of brotherly lectures leave his mind.
They were laughing and chattering together, all three of them - which included his habitually solitary sister. By the Goddess she looked happy! And then what else he was seeing registered in his mind and he snorted in surprise. The little scarred Healer was riding the centaur Huntress! Centaurs did, from time-to-time, offer to transport humans, but usually it was under emergency situations. The noble race of centaurs were definitely not beasts of burden. But there was the Huntress, trotting nonchalantly along with a human perched rather precariously on her sleek back. Cuchulainn felt certain that the militant Dhianna centaurs would have a herd-wide apoplectic fit if they ever witnessed such a sight.
It made him want to laugh aloud. It also made him begin to wonder if he had judged the Huntress too harshly.
"El!" he called and waved her his way. She waved back and motioned for her friends to follow her.
"Sorry, Cu," she said breathlessly. "We didn't mean to take so long, but we found a wonderful bathing pool on the way back, and, well..." She shrugged her shoulders and squeezed some water from her wet hair.
His sister had bathed in front of others? He looked from the centaur to the Healer, and back to Elphame.
They were wet. All three of them. And they looked flushed and very pleased with themselves.
"It was actually my fault," the Huntress said, giving Cuchulainn a challenging look. "I did not think the humans of Loth Tor would have a bathing chamber that could accommodate me - "
"So I suggested we stop and bathe before joining the camp," Brenna interrupted in a shy, soft voice.
"Elphame kept reminding us that we should hurry." She didn't look directly at the warrior as she spoke, and she kept the right side of her face turned away from him.
"I see..." Cuchulainn said, scratching his chin. And he did. They were being protective of his sister, may Epona bless them. The smile that lit his face was dazzling. "I see that I should spend more time lurking around the area pools."
"Oh, Cu," Elphame curled her nose at him. "Don't be disgusting."
"Well, I wouldna be looking at you, lassie," he said, imitating the local brogue.
Elphame felt like her face must have lost all its color. He sounded unerringly like The MacCallan, reminding her that she needed to tell him about her encounter with the spirit of their ancestor; her brother would want to know.
"Where are we eating, Cu?" she asked hastily.
He nodded his head toward the rear of the Mare's Inn. "They've set up tables outside and they're bringing food out there." He glanced significantly at the larger-than-human Huntress. "Seems there wasn't room inside the inn to feed all of us."
Brighid made a rude sound in her throat and Brenna had to cover her laugh with a cough.
"Why don't you two go on, I need to catch up on the day's work with Cuchulainn."
"We'll save a place for you," Brighid said. The centaur hesitated, making an obvious pause before adding. "And for your brother."
"I can get down now, Brighid," Brenna said.
Not sure about the correct protocol for dismounting from a centaur, she started to gently slide her right leg over the Huntress's firm back, but before she began to drop to the ground she felt a strong hand steady her. Brenna turned, expecting to see Elphame helping her. Instead she was looking directly into the piercing blue-green eyes of Cuchulainn.
"May I help you dismount, my Lady?"
"I - uh - I - " she stammered, fighting the urge to duck her head and hide the right side of her face. She swallowed hard. She'd worked around Cuchulainn most of the day. He knew what she looked like.
There was no reason to shrink from him. "Yes. You may," she finally managed to say.
Cu lifted the Healer from the Huntress's back. She was so light she felt as if her bones must be filled with air. And her wet hair smelled of rain and fresh grass. He placed her gently on the ground, and then bowed to her gallantly, but she wasn't even looking at him. She and the Huntress were already walking toward the rear of the inn. Brenna's sweet voice floated back to him on the breeze.
"Thank you, Brighid. I'm sorry I have such a poor seat. I've never been a very good rider___"
"What are you staring at?" Elphame asked Cu, butting his shoulder.
Wondering himself, Cuchulainn shook his head and blurted the first rational thought that came to his mind.
"A Dhianna centaur gave a human woman a ride?" His sister raised one arched brow at him. "Yes."
"And there were no Fomorians hot on your heels?" "I didn't notice any, but perhaps you should go back for a look - I'll be sure to save you a place at dinner," she said innocently. Then she laughed at his expression. "It was just easier, Cu. Brenna couldn't keep up with us, and we were in a hurry because I have an overprotective, bothersome brother I have to constantly check in with - so Brighid offered to give her a ride. I couldn't very well hoist her up on my shoulders. It was really the only logical thing to do."
"Unless you're a Dhianna centaur. Then the logical thing to do would be to let the human woman run herself into the ground."
Elphame's anger flared. "If Brighid was a typical Dhianna centaur she wouldn't be here. I want you to give her a chance. She's my friend."
She's my friend. Cuchulainn had never heard his sister say those words before, and hearing them was a miracle that made his mistrust of the Huntress seem like a selfish, petty thing.
"I'm sorry, El," he said, linking his arm with hers. "You're right. The only thing I can find truly offensive about the Huntress is her name." Of course he wasn't overly fond of the sarcastic tone she used when she spoke to him, but the look in his sister's eyes said he shouldn't mention that.
"Then you will give her a chance?" she said hopefully.
"Of course, El," he said. "And I have to admit that perhaps I have been jumping at shadows. I've had a vague, uneasy Feeling that I haven't been able to define." He met his sister's eyes, silently asking her to understand. "Maybe it was just the foreshadowing of the changes that were about to take place with you that were making me uncomfortable."
"Changes with me? What do you mean?" "It's obvious you have chosen the correct path for your life.
You belong at MacCallan Castle, El, even the stones welcome you. And look at you, you're laughing in public and making friends."
Happiness made Elphame's sable eyes sparkle. "I am making friends." She repeated the words as if they were a prayer.
"I may have been overreacting earlier," he said begrudgingly. "I suppose I'd been listening to too many children's ghost stories about the old place being cursed with spirits of the fallen dead. I'll try and loosen up some."
Children's ghost stories? She studied her brother's face. He was smiling at her with a pleased, open expression that said, even more clearly than his words, that he finally trusted that MacCallan Castle was where she should be. So what would happen if she blurted out that she had, indeed, been visited by the spirit of one of the fallen MacCallan dead - actually The MacCallan? She knew exactly what would happen. Cu shunned and mistrusted the spirit realm; he always had, though he'd been gifted with powers.
If she told him about her spectral visitor she had absolutely no doubt that he would go back to being obsessively overprotective of her every move.
And besides that, she didn't understand herself why The MacCallan had appeared to her. His visit had felt benevolent - he had certainly seemed as gallant in spirit as history reported him being in life. He had called her The MacCallan. But what did his visit really mean? Was he welcoming her, or watching her?
She couldn't tell Cu about MacCallan's ghost. At least she couldn't tell him that night. She'd wait until they were more settled in and she knew more about The MacCallan's motives. Maybe the spirit would never appear to her again. If it didn't, why should she worry her brother needlessly?
"El," he said, nudging her. "Did you hear me? I said I'd try and loosen up some."
"I heard you," she said quickly. "I'm just in shock that you finally admitted the error of your ways. Now if I could get you to give up chasing women and settle down to father several dozen children, my life would be complete."
"You're scary when you sound so much like Mother. Be careful or your voice will freeze like that."
"Now it's me who's scared." She grinned. "Let's go eat." "With your friends," he said. "Yes. With my friends."
"The stars look so much brighter here than they do at Epona's Temple," Elphame said.
"It's because there is less light reflected from Loth Tor and the forest than there is at the temple and the city that surrounds it," Cu said.
"You should see the stars from the Centaur Plains. Sometimes they shine brighter than firelight," Brighid said.
"I've never been to the Centaur Plains, but it sounds beautiful." Brenna's voice was sleepy.
"Someday you must visit. There are open places there where you can run for days without stopping."
Elphame caught her brother's eye and shook her head sharply at him so that Cuchulainn bit off the snide comment she could tell he wanted to make. She sighed. Why did he find the Huntress so irritating? He seemed to like Brenna - actually, he went out of his way to be kind to her. But whenever he and Brighid exchanged more than a word or two it was like fire meeting ice. He had acted pleased when Brighid and Brenna asked if they could join their little makeshift camp after dinner, but since they'd settled down for the night he and the Huntress had been ruffling each other's fur nonstop. (Of course, the visual image of Cu actually having fur made her want to laugh.)
El relaxed into the bedroll that she'd fitted snuggly between two gnarled roots at the base of an ancient oak tree. Listening to the soft hum of Brighid's voice as she described the Centaur Plains to Brenna, El gazed contentedly up at the brilliantly lit night sky. She and Cu had chosen a clearing a little way into the woods where the huge oaks still superseded the pines. She'd wanted to be away from the rest of the group, but she hadn't felt the need to withdraw as completely as she had the night before. Dinner had actually been a pleasant experience, partially because Brighid and Brenna had chosen to situate the four of them around one of the several campfires that had been lit in the field behind the Mare's Inn. The main group of centaurs, men and women ate at long wooden tables, where they talked and laughed and generally got to know one another. When Elphame and Cuchulainn had appeared, the men and centaurs stood formally, all bowing respectfully to her. Elphame had set her jaw, readying herself for more unwanted goddess worship. But then a miraculous thing had happened. Wynne had waved and called a greeting to her - and she hadn't called her Goddess or even my Lady. She'd simply said, "Good evening to ye, Elphame." And Wynne's casual greeting had been joined by several others.
The women's acceptance had worked magic. Not once had a villager knelt in front of her and asked for her blessing. Surprisingly, it was Brighid who had received the unwanted attention. Elphame grinned to herself as she remembered how many centaurs had made it a point to find an excuse to speak with Cuchulainn, who was sitting across from the Huntress, when it was obvious that all they really wanted to do was to wrangle an introduction to Brighid. Elphame had watched the whole thing with great curiosity.
The Huntress had been a study in graceful female aloofness. She had been cordial to her many potential suitors - cordial and disinterested. The centaurs had responded with obvious infatuation. Even the human males had sent appreciative glances to the beautiful Huntress. After several centaurs had presented themselves, Cu had muttered his annoyance to El, calling Brighid the Ice Princess. Elphame mused that apparently Ice Princesses were highly desired creatures.
"Hey," Cu whispered to her. "You have a silly grin on your face."
"It's not a silly grin, it's a happy grin."
"Go to sleep, El. Even your friends have finally stopped talking."
She glanced at the other two dark shapes, who had fallen silent, and she realized how heavy her eyelids felt. Then she rolled on her side and looked at her brother. "When are you going to sleep, Cu?"
"Soon, sister-mine."
He fed another limb to the little fire and settled back against the tree, watching as Elphame's eyes closed and her breathing deepened. He shifted his gaze to the other two females. Both seemed to be sleeping soundly. The Healer was curled up on her side with her back to him. People had left her alone tonight; he had sat beside her to make sure of that. He told himself that the fierce protective feeling he was developing for Brenna was because she was important to his sister, and part of the vows he had taken when he'd become a warrior stated that he would protect those who needed protection. Then he remembered the scent of her, and the way she had felt in his arms when he had lifted her from the centaur's back.
He looked away from Brenna's body and straight into the open eyes of the Huntress. He felt his cheeks heat under her silent, knowing gaze.
"I will take first watch. I'll wake you when the moon is at midpoint." Without waiting for him to answer, she stood and disappeared into the forest like a sleek silver wood sprite.
Cuchulainn could hear the muffled sounds of her body making its way through the underbrush as she slowly walked their perimeter.
"Damned Ice Princess," he grumbled to himself. "Let her take part of the watch. She's mistaken if she thinks she will get an argument from me."
Cu shifted his weight, trying to find a more comfortable position, thinking how glad he'd be when he could sleep in a bed again, and how annoying the Huntress was, and how much work they had before them... thinking about everything he could to keep him from remembering the soft-voiced Healer with the scarred face who smelled of rainwater and fresh grass.
Sleep enfolded Elphame like a fond parent, and she dreamed. In her dream she was running through a forest of ancient oaks which all looked exactly like the one her sleeping body was resting beneath. It was night, but the sky was brightly lit and the full moon illuminated the forest like a torch made of snow and fire. The floor of her dream forest was clear of underbrush, and there were no hidden holes or roots to trap her hooves. She breathed deeply and evenly, stretching her leg muscles and lengthening her stride so that the wind whipped against her face and the trees blurred as she sped past.
She loved to run. Her dream reminded her of how long it had been since she had gone on a good, hard run - since the day before she'd left Epona's Temple. Too long, her subconscious mind chided her.
The floor of the forest began a rolling ascent, and she pumped her legs, relishing the burn in her powerful muscles as she shot up the incline. She burst out of the forest and into a small clearing to find herself suddenly shrouded in fog. Breathing hard, Elphame came to a halt. The mist curled around her, thick and gray. She blew on it and suddenly the misty color changed and it became tinged with a hint of red.
The color beckoned her.
It swirled in an unending circular pattern that reminded her of one of Epona's holly-hedged labyrinths that decorated the temple grounds. In her dream the familiar comparison made her smile, and she stretched out her arms, spreading her fingers wide. Slowly, she began to turn and as the mist caressed her body she realized that she was naked.
"Elphame..." The disembodied voice floated around her on the mist. It was a man's voice, but she didn't recognize it.
"Come to me, Elphame.. ."
Instead of alarming her, the sound of the unfamiliar voice touched something deep within her and her body responded with a fierce rush of heat. The dampness of the caressing scarlet mist filled her, licking her skin and calling alive feelings that until then she had only imagined. The mist thickened and with it so
did her desire.
"Yes..." The man's voice coaxed seductively. "Let me love you."
Elphame was wrapped in a gossamer web and everywhere it touched her nakedness her body came alive. No, she thought with a growing sense of awe, she wasn't covered with a web. She was wrapped within wings.
"He has wings!" she said aloud, and the sound of her voice jolted her suddenly awake.
In the dark woods north of MacCallan Castle Lochlan lurched to a sitting position, instantly awake. His body was burning with need. He'd dreamed he was with Elphame, and for the only time in twenty-five years, she had felt his presence in return. He leaped from the snug shelter he'd made for himself within the cave formed by rocky outcroppings, unfurled his throbbing wings, and began the long, arduous climb up the side of the ridge, desperate to burn off his pent-up desire.
His mind flamed. The pain in his head pierced so hotly that he thought his mind would implode, but he maintained a rigid control over himself and concentrated on pushing his powerful body until sweat slid from his skin and his breathing came in ragged gulps.
He'd lived so long...one hundred twenty-five years. It was a curse, this longevity which had passed to him and the others from their Fomorian fathers. And who knew how much longer his heart would beat and the dark blood of his father would slither with its tempting madness through his body? The struggle.
The constant struggle weighed on him.
Give in.. .the pain within him hissed. Stop fighting. Let the madness take you. Revel in the power that is yours to command. Lochlan could end the pain by embracing his dark heritage. He ground his teeth together. And then he would become like his father's race. He would be no better than a rabid animal or a demon. Either description would be accurate.
He wanted more - for himself, and for his people.
Elphame... her name was like cool water to his parched soul.
They'd met in the realm of dreams - he was sure of it. She'd heard his voice, and opened herself to him.
He had wrapped her in his wings and stroked her. She had known him. She had recognized at least part of what he was. He'd clearly heard her speak.
"He has wings!"
Elphame's voice still shivered through him, and the wonder reflected in it filled him with hope and unspeakable joy, making the pain in his body temporarily easier to bear.