- •I brushed a trembling hand through my hair. What was going on? What happened? I was looking at the vases and…
- •I tore my eyes from the box and back to the—
- •I raised my eyebrow like Spock and waited.
- •I looked quickly at Suzanna. She was no damn help; her eyes were squeezed shut and her lips were moving in what looked like some kind of silent prayer. Jeesh.
- •I should have been nominated for some kind of Greco-Celtic Academy Award for Best Voluptuous Ascent to a Throne. God, it felt good to sit down.
- •I could see my door guards (yes, they did appear proportional) snap crisp sword salutes as the horses reached the doorway and entered the ro—
- •I could feel my jaw setting, but before I could respond, Alanna stepped in. Gracefully, she took my hand and helped me to my feet.
- •I had to clear my abused throat before I could squeak out an “I forgive you.”
- •In a formal, stilted voice he said, “Please excuse the interruption, my Lieutenant had matters of great import to discuss with me.”
- •I shut my eyes. Of course Dad wouldn’t want me to get hurt. If only it were that simple.
- •I opened my eyes. Seeing clearly—finally.
- •I looked at those high stirrups. And the tall mare. And considered my thirty-five-year-old body.
- •I mean riding a horse (one that’s actually alive) for several hours. Alternating between trot, canter, walk, back to trot. On a thirty-five-year-old butt. Without breakfast.
- •I reached down and patted her neck fondly. There are some things about this world that were just plain cool.
- •I sighed melodramatically and gave a big pretend sob while I wiped pretend tears from my eyes.
- •I just wanted to pee and then go back to sleep.
- •I closed my eyes and tried to relax, think, forget about my stomach and keep warm.
- •I straightened and took a step closer to Epi, hating the guilt he made me feel.
- •I swallowed a piece of cheese and took a quick drink of wine. “I had to see about my dad.”
- •I looked down at my half-eaten sandwich. “Are you still willing to take me there, knowing the creatures might be there?”
- •I felt a little like a mother whose four-year-old had just toddled happily off to preschool without her.
- •It was midmorning when I spied some lovely brush cover (and some soft-leafed plants) next to another stream that bisected our roadway.
- •I felt suddenly all Marilyn Monroe–like as my eyes went to half-mast and a moan escaped my lips.
- •I managed to moan some semblance of thanks.
- •I had to agree with him on that.
- •I had only taken a couple steps when I heard Dougal’s hooves thud behind me. I spoke over my shoulder to him.
- •In another world, he’s still alive.
- •I heard a snort of laughter from behind me.
- •I sniffed the air.
- •I swear, a rush of electricity shot from his teeth straight to my crotch.
- •I know it was unusual, but I didn’t know what to say.
- •I smiled at Dougal and saw him practically squirm with pleasure. If he had had a puppy’s tail, I’m sure it would’ve wagged vigorously—and he probably would’ve wet himself. He really was cute.
- •I translated that as centaur for “You’re full of crap.” But I acted as if I didn’t speak the lingo.
- •I curled my body around him and snuggled against his warmth.
- •I nodded my yes against his chest.
- •I didn’t see any fish frying. But I still smelled cooking food.
- •It took a moment for me to realize they were waiting for my permission.
- •I even managed to wave. Thank God I’ve watched a lot of pbs specials about The Royal Family.
- •I had to interrupt her. “Alanna, I can’t stand this ‘my Lady’ stuff. Can’t you call me something else?”
- •I squeezed her hands and turned back around. “At least she was a smart slut.”
- •I opened my mouth to interrupt.
- •I tried not to babble incoherently and to remember that I was dressing for my husband, not for a spot on a tv evangelism program.
- •I nodded at her to go on.
- •I shivered, remembering the weird mirror vision of myself I had glimpsed in the pot as it burst into a fiery ball.
- •I rubbed my fingers and took a wary half step away from it.
- •I blinked in surprise. “No, I didn’t know.”
- •I looked at Alanna and sighed. “Alanna, pour yourself some wine and sit here with me.”
- •I’m telling you, this guy could go on a lecture/training circuit and make a fortune teaching the Non-Octopus Technique to semi-bald, divorced, middle-aged men.
- •Intrigued, I nodded.
- •I smiled but felt the definite stirrings of nervousness.
- •I like to think I’ve attracted my share of men, but one hundred guards is just plain gluttonous.
- •I turned and began beating a hasty retreat down the empty hall.
- •I heard a ripple in the crowd. Suddenly, centaurs surrounded us and members of my guard were rushing from the temple to join them.
- •I took all of this in, but I found it hard to stop staring at the doctor. I knew this man, or perhaps I should say I knew this man’s mirror image—very well.
- •I turned back to face ClanFintan and tugged on his arm until he bent for my quick kiss.
- •I frowned at her. “Don’t worry about it. It just means she’s crazy about him, too.” She looked like that explanation helped. “You two aren’t married in this world?”
- •I shrugged. “Whatever, but we might be here for a while, so feel free to sit and pour yourself some wine. After all, grapes are my favorite breakfast fruit.”
- •I looked at Alanna’s worried face and sighed. “I can’t do this anymore,” I said to her. My eyes sought ClanFintan’s. “I don’t want to lie to you anymore.”
- •I returned his smile before looking nervously back at ClanFintan.
- •I wanted to throw my arms around him and bury my face in his heat, but I could feel Alanna’s and Carolan’s eyes boring joyfully into our romantic interlude.
- •I shouldn’t have been surprised. I already knew he was a biter.
- •I kissed him lightly on the cheek.
- •I felt ClanFintan’s startled reaction, which made me remember that the map that zapped me had shown all the land to the east of the river as centaur lands.
- •I remembered their horrible, ground-eating strides and had to agree with him.
- •I tried not to get distracted by the lovely image he was painting, and the thought of what it might look like now.
- •I searched my memory, wishing the biology electives I had taken in college hadn’t been ten-plus years ago.
- •I smiled my thanks at her before turning back to Carolan. “Well, what do we need to do?”
- •I found myself suddenly encompassed within the centaur’s strong arms.
- •I swear, underneath the layer of sweat and yuck he blushed. “Perhaps it has slipped my mind.”
- •It was the assistant who had been sent to get the dead child’s parents. I could see the shadowed forms of two people standing behind her in the hallway. I squared my shoulders and walked toward them.
- •I complied happily, resting my forearms against the ledge on which I had been sitting. He swept my hair out of the way and began rubbing soap all over the back of my body.
- •I remembered his little tкte-а-tкte with my guards and grinned. “You won’t have to.”
- •I rejoined Alanna, pulled the robe over my head and walked down the stone stairs into the warm pool to give myself a quick morning bath.
- •I smiled at his accented pronunciation.
- •I studied her face, thinking I saw a familiar expression.
- •Victoria caught my eye and raised her eyebrows at me. “I know a young centaur who would be happy to be our runner.”
- •I mean, please, I am an English teacher. Some things just aren’t acceptable.
- •I frowned and continued to dry myself.
- •I gulped and tried not to look worried.
- •I snuggled comfortably against him. “Are you sure it was just me? I think you cast some kind of spell or something.”
- •I wriggled around, pressing myself against his hard chest so that I could breathe in his ear, “Why not?”
- •I smiled at him and patted his arm like he was a cross between a teenager and a puppy. “Thank you, Dougal. It’s perfect.”
- •I thought poor Dougal might faint.
- •I laughed, but my eyes gravitated to my husband’s handsome profile. As if he felt my gaze, he turned his head in my direction and smiled warmly from across the fire.
- •It was wide and sturdy, and I didn’t have any trouble balancing on it. I looked at him and grinned happily.
- •I playfully slapped his hand away and smiled through my eggs. “You’re so fresh.”
- •I turned my face into the breeze, shaking out my own hair, liking the way it was lifted off my shoulders. I breathed deeply, stretching my sore muscles, and…
- •I closed my eyes and whispered, “Please don’t make me go down there.”
- •I had the disconcerting feeling that she knew who I was. On impulse I slid off ClanFintan’s back, and took her hand in mine, squeezing it warmly.
- •I leaned over and whispered to ClanFintan, “Isn’t Terpsichore the Muse that danced at our handfast?”
- •I tried more delicious food than I could keep count of, then, satisfied, I leaned back against my husband’s warm chest to enjoy the talent of the Muses, and the delicious quality of their red wine.
- •Vic covered his hand with her own. “Fight the battle with a clear mind, my friend. I will protect Rhea with my life.”
- •I took the small telescope and tried to thank her, but she had already moved away and was speaking to a group of nervous young girls.
- •I heard the Huntress directly behind me, I think her name was Elaine, snort a quick laugh at my response. Nope—they sure didn’t act nervous.
- •I slid off her back, and Vic opened the door. Sila was in the middle of the room, helping patients from their beds and onto thick blanket-like pallets. She looked up as we entered.
- •I almost called her Michelle, but caught myself in time.
- •I saw that Terpsichore was walking purposefully to stand by the dark woman’s side. She looked serene and lovely and spoke in a calm, unhurried voice.
- •In response, Dougal unsheathed his claymore, and Victoria pulled her crossbow and quiver from the sling at her side.
- •I went back to work on his cuts. He stood quietly, and soon I was able to lather in the salve. That done, I reluctantly moved to the rear of his body.
- •I saw Dougal flush in happy surprise. When Vic finally raised her eyes to meet his, I thought I detected an unaccustomed shyness in her gaze.
- •I pulled one foot up, and put it out in front of me, set it down—
- •I brushed some of the clinging sand from his face, then kissed the spot I had cleaned.
- •I jerked upright.
- •I smiled at him, but ClanFintan didn’t hesitate in his pace.
- •I stepped into Alanna’s arms, returning her embrace.
- •I took a long drink, focusing on getting the trembling inside me under control.
- •I looked away, unable to watch their agony.
- •I nodded against his chest and sent up another plea to the Goddess for her to watch after the mare.
- •I could see Alanna was putting on a brave face, and I smiled in response.
- •I shrugged my shoulders in a nonchalant way. “When isn’t it in my way?”
- •I tried to come up with a pithy reply, but in actuality I was relieved when Victoria’s voice cut through the need for any further words.
- •I saw the familiar figure of Victoria firing off arrows quickly, each finding its deadly mark. Between loading and shooting, her attention suddenly wavered, and she met my gaze.
- •I pulled my attention from Alanna and what was happening around me. Instead, I listened to my heart, or maybe, more accurately, my soul.
- •It seemed the mare battled on that small hill for time unending, but my mind knew logically that only minutes had passed before dark, winged shapes completely surrounded us.
- •In the middle of my thought I felt the tremor that passed through my body as it became semivisible. I mentally crossed my fingers that I was doing the right thing.
- •If you enjoyed the eBook you just read, then you’ll love what we have for you next month!
I nodded my yes against his chest.
“The creatures again?”
“ClanFintan, I found the women.” He loosened his arms and I pulled back to look into his eyes. “They are in the castle by the mountain pass.”
“Guardian Castle,” he prompted.
“Yes, it has to be.”
“Have you never been there?”
“No, of course not.” I didn’t take time to wonder if Rhiannon had been. “But it’s large and square and situated at the base of a narrow pass.”
“That is Guardian Castle.”
“That’s where they are. They have the women, and, oh, God, they must be mating with them—” Here I had to stop and cover my face with trembling hands.
In one smooth motion ClanFintan stood and scooped me, still wrapped in the blanket, into his arms. He strode out into the comforting light of the campfires and deposited me gently back on my log.
“Throw me that wineskin,” he ordered a surprised, sleepy-looking Dougal, who tossed him the wine and blinked at me with worried eyes. “Drink.” He held the skin to my lips and I gratefully swallowed several gulps of the red liquid.
“Thank you.” I wiped my mouth and tried to control my trembling.
“Now tell me.” His voice was strong and reassuring. He reclined next to me and took my hand in his, squeezing gently. The other centaurs were all awake and listening. Their presence fortified me—I was safe with them.
I took a deep breath. “The women were there. At first I only noticed that they acted like zombies or like they were in shock. Then I heard the screaming and I followed the sound into a large room. A pregnant woman was tied to the top of a table. She was in labor. She was surrounded by a group of the creatures. While I watched, a…a…thing, a newborn creature, clawed its way out of her body. It was one of them.” My voice sounded raw to my own ears. I tightened my grip on ClanFintan’s warm hand. “And there were more pregnant women in the room. Many more. I saw them just sitting there, like their souls were already gone. Then one of the creatures sensed me and tried to grab me and I screamed and woke up back here.” I ended in a rush of breath, lifting the wineskin once more to my lips.
“One of them sensed you?” ClanFintan’s voice shot out the question.
“Yes, he said he could almost see me. He mentioned the night my father was killed. He said he had sensed me then, too.”
ClanFintan stood abruptly and began to pace back and forth in front of the fire.
“I did not think they could break through Epona’s protection, too.”
“Too—what do you mean by ‘too’?”
I watched him look pointedly at the listening centaurs. Then he turned slowly to face me. His face looked hard and remote, like it had the first time I met him. A shiver of foreboding fingered its way down my spine and I remembered his words outside MacCallan Castle: “They are through hiding.” Like he had known more about them than he had let on.
“ClanFintan, what is it?”
“Centaurs have known the Fomorian evil was loose upon Partholon for some time now.”
“You knew? But—”
Dougal stepped forward, his voice full of familiar concern. “My Lady, some of us knew and believed. Others would not believe the signs.”
I looked from Dougal to ClanFintan.
“What signs? What are you talking about?” My voice had an angry edge to it.
ClanFintan answered my anger with calm detachment. “You know that I have recently, just before we were betrothed, become head of the Fintan Herd. As you also know, my father was Herdsmaster before me.” I nodded like I knew what the hell he was talking about. He continued. “Almost one year ago my father began to behave oddly. At first there were only small changes. He developed new habits. For instance, he woke and slept at strange times. He changed some of his habits, just small things, which were only apparent to his family and close advisers. Then his trouble sleeping became more pronounced. He seemed uncharacteristically quiet, almost as if he was constantly preoccupied or deep in thought. Slowly, his problems became more obvious. Time progressed and he became more and more withdrawn. It was as if he was living in a dark world of his own making, where evil lurked behind every tree. Where old friends became objects of suspicion.” ClanFintan paused; the thought of his father’s degeneration was obviously painful, but he steadied himself and continued. “As you probably know, the Fintan Herd chooses their Herdsmaster as we choose our Shamans, not by blood but by a consensus and a spiritual calling. There is no dishonor to a centaur when, following a long term of rule, he steps aside to live out his remaining years as an honored adviser, allowing his younger and more capable replacement to assume his position. But if a centaur is forcibly removed because of…” ClanFintan’s eyes were haunted and he could not make himself finish the sentence. “There can be no greater dishonor.”
The centaur’s face hardened back into his mask of detachment. “The Herd was losing faith in their leader and he knew it, but it seemed he had lost the ability to control what was engulfing him. The situation became intolerable. It was only because of the great love and respect he had commanded for so many years that none moved against him. Then, the ghost of his former self, he called a Council of Warriors, which brought the heads of all the families together. He addressed them with only a shadow of his old dignity. He told of dreams and visions, which had followed him from his bed until they had absorbed him into their evil. Horrible twisted visions of blood and death. They centered around Guardian Castle, then reached out to engulf Partholon and the Centaur Plains, sucking us all into their darkness.” The centaur’s voice faded, his memories of that painful council meeting taking him far away.
“ClanFintan,” I spoke his name gently, empathizing with his grief over a fallen father.
His face softened for a moment, then he squared his shoulders and finished his story. “The rest tells itself easily. Half of the Council thought him mad and called for him to step down as Herdsmaster. The other half believed him and demanded action be taken to find the source of the evil. The vote was split exactly in half. They were deadlocked until they decided upon a compromise.” His full lips twisted in a sardonic smile. “They appointed me as Herdsmaster, replacing him. They were all in agreement on one thing—a Herdsmaster who was also High Shaman should be able to discover the truth.”
He stopped there, but intuition whispered to me that there was more I needed to know.
“So with all of this going on why were you so set on handfasting with me?”
“My father spoke to me in private after the Council appointed me in his stead. He was difficult to understand, but he kept insisting that I had to have Epona’s help to fight the evil. I had to be allied with Epona’s Beloved, following the ancient tradition of a centaur High Shaman being mated with Epona’s Chosen.” ClanFintan’s gaze never left mine. “Even though you had made it obvious that you had broken with tradition. He told me to go to your father and explain everything, that if I did the MacCallan would give his permission to wed you, even if you remained firm in your desire not to be bound to me, and that, out of your love and respect for your father, you would consent to our mating. You knew, of course, that they were comrades. My father had great respect for your father. I told him I would do as he wished, and then he spoke a single word—Fomorians. When that word left his lips it was as if he had been rendered speechless. The next morning he was found dead.”
“I’m sorry, ClanFintan. Your father was a great centaur.” Even though I hadn’t known him, I was sure it was true.
“Thank you.” His face softened for a moment. “Now we are both fatherless.”
“So that’s why you married me.” His sadness touched me, but I couldn’t help the feeling of loss his words had evoked. I knew it was ridiculous, but I felt betrayed. “Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?”
His look darkened. “If you will remember our first betrothal meeting, you can answer that question for yourself. You gave me no opportunity to explain my reasons to you. You refused my suit, insulted me and left.”
I wanted to scream that it hadn’t been me, but I didn’t want to try to explain the whole mirror-dimension thing to him right now. Especially not in front of all of those frowning, sorrowful-looking centaurs. My common sense told me that I didn’t have any right to be angry and hurt. Rhiannon had been a raving bitch to ClanFintan. He had been right not to trust me/her. But my heart said something else. It felt bruised.
So I didn’t know what to say. We just looked at each other like two children who had had a fight and didn’t know how to make up.
I felt exhausted and sickened by what I had witnessed. I just wanted to sleep—and I meant really sleep. I sent a silent plea to Epona to please not send me on any more of those dream things tonight.
“I need to get some sleep.”
I stood up, keeping the blanket wrapped around my waist. I didn’t look at the centaurs, but I could hear them salute me formally as I left and their sweet “Good night, my Lady” followed me into the barn like a soft breeze. I snuggled back into my hay nest, squelching thoughts of how comfortable (and happy) I had been only a little earlier that night. I closed my eyes.
I had already known he had married me out of some sense of duty. Why was I so upset to hear him say it? And, I reminded myself, he hadn’t married me anyway. He had married Rhiannon, Goddess Incarnate and Beloved of Epona. I was just Shannon Parker, underpaid English teacher from Broken Arrow, Oklahoma. I didn’t belong here and I didn’t belong with him.
“Rhiannon?”
I hadn’t heard him approach and his voice made me jump. My eyes flashed open.
“I did not mean to startle you.” He sounded concerned. Probably worried about causing me to have a heart attack before I could fulfill my duty to him. And I didn’t mean that in the Biblical sense. I meant it in some obscure Epona sense. Sigh.
I didn’t say anything. I just looked at him and shrugged.
“You left before I could finish.”
I sighed again. “What else is there to say?”
“I wanted you to know that I do not think of you as I did before our handfast. I do not understand it, but you are different now.” His eyes were soft as they reflected the distant firelight. “There is one bit of good that this evil has caused. It has caused me to join with you. Good night, my Lady. I will be close by if you have need of me.”
Before I could answer, he turned and left the barn. I tried not to think too much about the rush of pleasure his words had given me. I thought instead that it would take me hours to fall asleep, but my eyes couldn’t have been closed more than a few minutes when I blissfully entered my DreamLand. This time I (thankfully) passed the rest of the night dreaming that I was spending a wonderful afternoon visiting a Godiva chocolate factory that doubled as a vineyard. Superman and Pierce were bickering over who was going to rub my feet and who was going to…
Well, you get the idea. (This time Superman won—and may I just share that he’s called super for more than just his ability to fly.)
12
The tantalizing aroma of frying fish woke me. I yawned and stretched, rubbing sleep out of my eyes. Yanking on my pants, I shook out the blankets, slung my boots over my arm and made my way blearily out to find the source of the yummy smell.
“Good morning, my Lady.” ClanFintan looked bright eyed and bushy tailed (literally).
“Mornin’,” I muttered as I handed the shyly smiling Dougal my blanket mess and moved zombie-like to the edge of the nearest campfire. I’m not a morning person. Actually, I’m slightly suspicious of morning people. It’s exhausting to be perky before 9:00 a.m. There’s only a certain amount of perky that one individual can have over the course of one day. Morning people use up their perky too early and end up being just plain grumpy.