I turned back to face ClanFintan and tugged on his arm until he bent for my quick kiss.

“Alanna and I are going to get cleaned up. Why don’t you go get the Healer and meet us in my chambers.”

“I will not be long.” He touched my cheek lightly in parting.

As soon as we were alone, I said to Alanna, “My friend, we need to talk.”

She nodded and followed me. Relieved that I was starting to figure out my way around, I headed back through the door that I knew would open to the courtyard. This time it was filled with chattering women and children, and ringed with warriors. At my entrance an emotion-laden silence fell. I understood what I must look like as I saw fear reflected in their faces.

I suddenly realized I had seen this kind of fear before in my classroom on a spring day when a student had been caught coming onto our campus with two loaded semiautomatic guns. I knew from that experience that hiding and prevaricating only made things worse; it works better to tell truth and deal with the ramifications of reality. So I held my hands to my sides, not attempting to hide the blood that stained them and the rest of my body. Squaring my shoulders, I met their frightened gazes with my don’t-worry-I’min-charge look.

Bullshit is a prime weapon in any successful teacher’s arsenal.

“A young centaur has been killed.” A collective gasp filled the air. “We are not in immediate danger, but we must prepare for the enemy.” I decided to use the same tactic I did in my classroom. When in doubt, give the general public something to do, it’ll make them docile and useful. “I need your help. I want you to divide into groups. Some of you will begin preparing a place to care for the wounded—making linens into bandages, and that kind of thing.” I saw several heads nod, and I felt encouraged. “My maidens will need help. Those of you who are the best cooks, please form a group and report to the kitchens. Warriors will need to eat well.”

“My Lady! My sisters and I have carved and quilled arrows which we have bartered to the centaur traders.” A voice came from the crowd.

“Who just spoke?” I yelled.

The women parted to let a tall, slender blonde step through the crowd. I felt my face break into a relieved smile as I recognized her resemblance to our school’s best computer teacher. Now, there was a woman who knew how to organize.

“Your name?”

“Maraid, my Lady.” She performed a cute curtsy.

I turned to one of my ever-present guards. “Send for the centaurs Dougal and Connor. Bring them to this courtyard. Have them instruct the women in what they can do to help support the warriors.” I pointed to Maraid. “This woman, Maraid, will be in charge of organizing the women’s groups.”

The guard saluted and rushed away.

“The centaurs will tell you what they need.” My teacher voice carried through the expectant silence. “By helping them you will help all of us—and I thank you for it.” As an afterthought I added, “Epona’s blessings on all of you.” Then I beat a hasty retreat, with Alanna scurrying after me.

Rushing through the door that led to my private corridor, I breathed a relieved sigh and whispered to Alanna, “Do you think that was okay?”

She nodded, her head tilted toward mine as we hurried to the bathing-room door. “It gave them something to do. If they are kept busy, they have less time to be afraid.”

“That’s what I thought.”

The guard opened the door for us. We stepped into the bathing chamber, and I began stripping off my bloody clothes before Alanna could help.

“Are you certain you should have asked for Dougal, too?” Alanna was handing me a sponge and a bottle of bath soap. I sat on the pool’s ledge and began scrubbing the blood from my body.

“I thought it would be best if he stayed busy.” I submerged myself to rinse away the last of the blood. Alanna had laid a towel near the edge of the pool, and I stepped out of the water, wrapping myself in its softness.

Alanna was rummaging her way through one of the large wardrobes.

“Do you think you can find something that’s not semitransparent and has a top to it?”

“I think you will find this acceptable.”

She was holding a pretty piece of cream-colored material in her hands. I obediently held out my arms and she began her magical wrapping. I was pleased to notice the soft fabric wasn’t see-through. She finished with a flourish and another elaborate pin.

This outfit only showed off a nice expanse of my long legs, which I was used to, and, quite frankly, I enjoyed.

“I like it.” We smiled. I turned back to the vanity and rummaged quickly through the plethora of jewelry. “The ability to accessorize is what elevates us from lower-life forms,” I said in my lecture voice, choosing a pair of diamond-studded drops for my ears. “Like men.” We shared a smug girlfriend look.

“Now, tell me about Carolan.”

The smug girlfriend look fell off her face and was replaced by a bright flush.

“Jeesh, quit blushing,” I said. Which, of course, only caused her blush to intensify. I took her by the hand and led her to the bench in front of my makeup vanity. Pointing to the spot next to me, I said, “Sit and talk to me.”

She sighed and looked into my steady gaze. And sighed again.

“Want me to help you?” She nodded. “You’re in love with him.”

Her eyes widened. She looked like Bambi.

“How did you—” I put up my hand to shush her.

“I’d like to say it’s because of my wonderfully intuitive mind—or even because it’s some kind of Beloved of the Goddess thing—but the truth is there’s nothing at all mysterious about it.” I smiled and playfully pushed my shoulder into hers. “He’s the mirror image of Suzanna’s husband, Gene.” She blinked in surprise and I kept chattering. “They’ve been married forever and he still adores her like they were newlyweds. It’s really pretty disgusting.”

She was making little mewing noises, so I poured a goblet of wine from my unending supply and handed it to her. She drank deeply as I continued.

“Actually, it’s weird how people mirror themselves—or however the hell I should say it.” I poured myself some wine, too, and briefly contemplated grammatical problems caused by alternative dimensions before continuing. “In my old world Gene is a lawyer and a history professor. Suz and I call him Doctor-Doctor.” I giggled. “She calls herself Mrs. Doctor-Doctor and says that his brains can kick sand in the face of any overmuscled Neanderthal pretty boy.” I chased away the hilarious mental picture of Gene in a Speedo, which Suz’s words never failed to conjure.

“What is a Neanderthal?” Alanna sounded on the edge of confused hysteria.