I didn’t see any fish frying. But I still smelled cooking food.

Trying to run my fingers through my out-of-control hair while I picked out pieces of hay, I raised my brows at ClanFintan. “Don’t I smell breakfast?”

“Yes, fish rolls.” He pointed to big rolled-up leaves that were stuck amidst the hot coals of the only campfire still smoldering.

Well, that sure cleared everything up.

He’s probably a morning person/horse/whatever.

Sigh. I pulled on my boots and headed toward the stream. Without looking over my shoulder, I said, “No, I don’t need any damn help.”

After finishing my morning necessaries, which included washing my face and rinsing my mouth out with cold water, and brushing vigorously with my finger (man, I sure missed my mint-flavored waxed dental floss—who’d have ever figured?), I felt semi-alive and awake.

The horsies were chomping contentedly on the fish that had been inside the rolled-up leaves. They were using the leaves as plates and picking flaky fish from the bone. I sat on my log seat next to where ClanFintan was reclining, and Connor handed me my own leaf plate of fish. It was wonderful. The fish’s head had been cut off (thank God—I don’t like it when my food looks at me) and its body had been stuffed with garlic.

“This is really great.”

“Thank you, my Lady.” Dougal and Connor spoke together.

“Are the rest of the guys hunting or something?”

“No. I sent them ahead to inform the warriors of your latest dream vision. They can travel more quickly than I can while I carry you.” He smiled at me, so I guessed my slowing him down didn’t piss him off. “They will notify the others who stayed with Epona and we will meet with all of them at your temple.”

“Those creatures have to be stopped.” Mentioning my dream vision had sobered me, and I almost choked on the fish.

“Our combined forces will stop them.” His voice mirrored the conviction in mine.

We finished our breakfast in silence. The three of them broke camp quickly, burying the fire coals and reloading their packs like good little Boy Scouts. ClanFintan saddled himself and offered me a hand up. I tried not to feel pleased that he obviously let his hand linger on my arm.

“Hang on. We will be traveling hard today.”

I rested my hands on his broad shoulders as he stepped out at a brisk gallop. Again I was grateful he had such a smooth gait. It would be embarrassing to have to tell my husband his gallop rattled my teeth.

We found the road that cut down to the southeast, and the centaurs stepped up the pace considerably. This time prosperous families didn’t greet us as we traveled. The road was deserted. It gave the day an eerie, Twilight Zone feel—or, maybe more appropriately, an Omega Man aura. Like the norm had been turned inside out. As if to mirror the creepy feeling, the day was cloudy and dreary. The sky hung low and gray, and a misty fog crept over the gullies on either side of us and drifted in patches across the road.

The centaurs were working harder today; ClanFintan’s torso glistened with sweat, although his breathing stayed deep and unlabored. His stamina amazed me, and my thoughts dwelled on that interesting fact without any type of sexual connotation (well, almost without any). I just tried to sit quietly and hang on—and not be a nuisance. I kept my potty stops to a minimum and chewed jerky in the saddle.

As the day progressed a light drizzle began and the fog turned thicker and more insistent. The world narrowed to a few yards around us; it gave the illusion that we were endlessly galloping in the same place and never getting anywhere. Time lost meaning. I began to fantasize that in this altered dimension the world could just stop and I would be caught forever in this moment—eternally travelling but never getting anywhere. I felt myself totter to one side and I jerked upright, hoping ClanFintan didn’t notice.

At least my movement had allowed time to begin unraveling again.

“Slide your arms around me and lay your head down. I will not let you fall.” His voice didn’t even sound strained as he spoke over his shoulder at me. He would be damn good in an aerobics class. But I couldn’t imagine him in the workout tights.

Stifling a giggle, I realized I was getting goofy with exhaustion, which made me feel bad because, after all, he was doing all the work.

“Go ahead. Try to rest. You could not have had enough sleep last night.” His voice was deep and hypnotic. I slid forward until I was very close to his back and gratefully wrapped my arms around him, somewhere midway on his chest, and lay my head against the strong valley between his shoulder blades. Maybe if I was close enough to him, he would help dispel the bizarre notions that kept trying to creep up on me. I sighed and closed my eyes, breathing deeply and loving the smell and the feel of him. His leather vest was soft next to my cheek. His warmth burned through the cool dampness of the rainy day, and I felt myself quickly lulled into a sleepy half-dream state by his movement, which was a little like how a train’s clack-clack hypnotizes its overnight passengers.

I opened my eyes once some time later and it was fully dark. The centaurs were still traveling. I could feel ClanFintan’s steady breathing had deepened, and as I shifted my weight and snuggled back into him, he squeezed my arm reassuringly.

“Rest.”

That single word was like a drug, and I relaxed back into my strange half sleep.

When I next became fully conscious, it was because I could feel his gait changing from the never-ending gallop to a trot, and finally slowing to a walk. I pushed myself up and rubbed my face. It was still wet and cool, but the darkness was beginning to lighten to the gray of premorning. Teresa, an Irish-American girlfriend from my last, and favorite, college writing class liked to call it “morning’s gloaming.”

I never really understood it until now.

“Where are we?” I blinked at the magic of the misty dawn and busied myself retying my wild hair back into some semblance of a braid. I noticed ClanFintan’s had come loose, too, so I reached forward and began loosening it so I could replait it more neatly.

“We are only a short way from your temple.” I was concerned to notice his words were punctuated by labored breathing. I could even hear Dougal and Connor breathing heavily as they walked beside us.

My hands stilled on his hair. I forgot about the pretty morning and shifted my gaze from Dougal to Connor. “Are you guys okay? Should we stop and rest?” Then I tried to peek around at ClanFintan, pulling his hair back to get a better look at his face, and asked, “Do you want me to walk for a while?”

The three centaurs let out horselike snorts. Dougal and Connor stepped a little closer to their Herdsmaster and gave him what I thought were concerned looks…until they spoke.

“Aye, Dougal, ClanFintan does look a bit rough.” Connor threw a pointed glance at Dougal and I noticed their musical lilt was more pronounced as they struggled to catch their breath. I also noticed their apparent fatigue didn’t do much to squelch their goofy grins.

“I must agree, Connor.” They clucked under their breath sadly, looking at ClanFintan, who had been turning his head from side to side, watching their exchange.

“My Lord, if your Lady’s weight has become too much for you I would like to volunteer to serve as your relief.” Dougal’s voice was the ultimate in gentlemanly politeness, but his smile was definitely smart-assed.

I frowned at him and started to open my mouth.

“And, my Lord, when Dougal grows weary from bearing such a slight, pleasant weight, I volunteer to take up his burden.” He swept his arm forward in a flourish and bowed toward me as he executed a neat sidestep.

I frowned at him, too.

“Well! I just thought—” And they both exploded into laughter, interrupting my tirade. I glared at them. Damn silly horsies.

“Just save your breath for trying to keep up with me.” ClanFintan sounded amused. “Impudent colts.” He broke back into his road-eating gallop, leaving the chortling centaurs scrambling to catch up. I could feel his torso vibrating—it took a second for me to realize he was laughing.

I yanked on his thick braid as I retied the thong. He threw a smile over his shoulder at me. “Rhiannon, you say the strangest things.”

“I was just trying to be nice.” I grumped. “I don’t want to weigh you down or anything.”

He reached back and squeezed my calf, sending little chills up my leg.

“That you could never do.”

“Don’t be so sure. I may get old and fat. How would you feel about hauling me around if my butt was twice this size and it took both Dougal and Connor to lift me into the saddle?”

“Rhiannon—” his voice was rich with laughter “—you are far too vain to ever get fat.”

I expelled air through my nose, imitating a centaur snort. Guess he might know me a little after all. Dougal and Connor caught up with us and I tried to frown at them, but their silly grins were too much and I smiled back at them.

“Disrespectful imps,” I muttered into ClanFintan’s shoulder. He must have heard me (and agreed) because his vibrating laugh rumbled through both of us.

I tried to relax and fade back into my semi-sleep state, but as the mist cleared so did my weariness. My mind didn’t seem to be able to shut itself off. Images of batlike vampiric creatures haunted my thoughts. How in the hell could they be stopped? The futility and danger of the situation weighed on my mind. And suddenly I wondered why I should be so worried about it. This wasn’t my damn world. Why wasn’t I concentrating my energy on getting my sore butt home?

“Hold tight, my Lady. The trail gets steep here.” ClanFintan’s arms covered mine, which were laced loosely around the middle of his torso.

The strength and heat of his forearms melted into me, making me feel protected and cherished—a feeling that was totally alien to Shannon Parker’s life.

And, damnit, that was it. It was this damn man/ horse/what-the-hell-ever. And it was Alanna. And Dougal. And Connor. And my/her dad who had died before he was supposed to.

This screwed-up place was becoming home to me. I closed my eyes and buried my face into my husband’s shoulder, and I realized that part of me was already attached to this world.

Damn Rhiannon and her meddling and scheming. Damnit, why couldn’t I have married a nice lawyer and raised 2.5 maladjusted children in the suburbs and paid a fortune to a handsome shrink named something vaguely Italian who I could fantasize about, but never be literally unfaithful with?

Instead, I get this bizarre mirror world filled with a horse/guy who I have the serious hots for, creatures who are terrorizing civilization, my ass which is extremely sore, complete with saddle sores beginning on my inner thighs and deodorantless armpits that probably stink and no toilet paper.

As my students would succinctly say, This sucks.

13

The centaurs paused only for water over the next several hours. My burst of strength was gone and I had to fight to stay upright. Thankfully, I could see snatches of the setting sun reflecting off the river, which was pretty close to us on the right. That should mean the temple was near. Then ClanFintan raised his arm in some kind of salute to something off one side of the road.

“What’s that?” My voice sounded scratchy.

“Another sentry.” He sounded matter-of-fact.

“Oh, there, uh, have been more?”

“Yes, of course, for the past several hours we have been hailed periodically by those sent to keep watch.”

“That’s a good idea.”

He made a snorting sound and I shut my mouth. If memory served me even a little bit correctly, I seemed to recall that Epona had been Goddess of the Roman Legions, as well as the Celts, and was hailed as a warrior’s deity. I wondered if Rhiannon had been trained in the ways of warfare.

It might help her in my high school classroom. Maybe.

I felt ClanFintan’s powerful muscles bunch as the road began a gradual climb and we turned sharply to the left. And there was the temple. ClanFintan pulled abruptly to a halt and he, Dougal and Connor paused, obviously trying to catch their labored breath. My eyes drank in the temple and grounds before me like a thirsty horse drinks in water. Now that I got a good look at it from the road and during the light of day, I realized just how amazing a structure it really was.

As I had noticed when Epi and I had snuck out, it was built on the crest of a gentle incline. Unlike MacCallan Castle the grounds around the temple for about the length of a football field were clear of trees or anything else that might serve to hide an enemy. The beautiful marble wall that encircled the temple looked creamy and even more impressive in the daylight. The river wrapped around the southeast side of the temple grounds, and the land surrounding the cleared area adjacent to it was covered with grapevines, which were heavily laden with dark fruit. Sprinkled amidst the fields were several attractive homes, reminiscent of Anne Hathaway’s thatched-roof cottage in Stratford-Upon-Avon. Most of them had neat-looking barns with corrals beside them, although I didn’t notice any animals. All very upper-middle-class peasant.

But there was one huge difference between the scenery before me now and the scenery that I had studied as I was riding away. People had been added—humans and centaurs. Lots of people were camped all around the temple walls. The tents they had pitched were blowing in the gentle breeze. They seemed to be efficiently going about their busy lives—herding animals and children, talking, cooking—it was like I had stumbled into a bustling medieval faire.

Then a shout was heard from very near us, and repeated and repeated again. All heads turned in our direction and the shout intensified to a series of cries as the people and centaurs raised their hands, waving and welcoming us home.

“Shall we forward?” ClanFintan glanced at his two comrades, and then all three looked to me.