I took a long drink, focusing on getting the trembling inside me under control.

“She’s trying to come back.” I was surprised at how calm I sounded. “I should have realized this would happen. She left here a Goddess Incarnate whose every whim was anticipated and fulfilled, to become an Oklahoma English teacher. Fifty out of fifty on the national pay scale. Please—who wouldn’t want to return?” I knew they didn’t understand everything I was saying, but they let me babble. “She somehow eavesdropped on my world. She saw cars and planes, huge skyscrapers and superhighways, the ‘magic’ of TV and computers.” I giggled, feeling light-headed. “She thought she would be Goddess queen over it all. Hardly. Teachers are underpaid and overworked. We have to put up with absentee parents blaming us for the problems their poor choices have caused. I mean, really, some of us are even thinking about wearing bulletproof vests to school.”

“Love…” ClanFintan’s voice of sanity stopped my tirade. “I will not let her take you away from me.”

“How are you going to stop her?” I was shaking again.

“Did I not stop her today?” He put his arms around me and I clung to his warmth and security.

“We will make sure everyone knows what the urn looks like.” Alanna smiled reassurance. “We will say it is being used by the forces of evil. If another appears, it will be destroyed before it can harm you.”

“Not if, when. I know she’ll try again.”

“Let her,” Carolan said. “She will not be allowed to succeed.”

ClanFintan’s strong hands kneaded the tension out of my shoulders as I allowed myself to believe I was safe.

“Eat, love,” he whispered into my ear. “It will make you feel better.”

“It always does,” I muttered and plunked a piece of delicious whitefish in my mouth. I was just beginning to relax, listening to Carolan and ClanFintan discuss the dynamics of the morning evacuation, when there was a quick knock and the door to my chamber flew open.

A sweat-covered guard saluted hastily and said, “Fomorians have been sighted outside the temple grounds.”

ClanFintan surged off the chaise and lunged to the door.

22

“Get Dougal. Have him assemble the centaurs and the rest of the Temple Guard at the entryway to the top of the northeast wall,” ClanFintan ordered, and the guard nodded and rushed off. The four of us moved resolutely down the hall in the direction of the entrance to the courtyard.

“How could they be here so soon?” My voice was incredulous.

We entered the courtyard, which was a scene of milling people.

“The rain,” Carolan said grimly. “It has kept the sun shrouded, and they have used it to their advantage.”

“I should have anticipated how quickly they can travel,” ClanFintan said, turning to face us. “Carolan, get all of the centaurs and warriors to the top of the temple wall. I do not care how badly wounded or how ill they are—tell them we have no choice.”

Carolan nodded, kissed Alanna briefly and rushed away.

“Alanna,” ClanFintan said. “Have the women gather all the cooking cauldrons in the temple and bring them here to the center courtyard. Then have the barrels that hold the oil for the lamps carried out of storage and brought to the courtyard, too.”

“Yes, ClanFintan.” She rushed off.

“Don’t even think about sending me on some friggin errand; I stay with you.”

“I never thought otherwise,” he said as we jogged across the courtyard.

We went in the direction that would take us out through the wide walls to the rear of the temple, but instead of passing through the exit, ClanFintan followed the wall around to the left. Soon we came to a ragtag-looking group of centaurs and humans assembled at the bottom of a narrow staircase that was built into the wall itself. It led up.

Dougal stepped out of the group. Victoria was at his side.

“Fomorians.”

Dougal nodded. “We heard. What now?”

“Where is the sentry who notified the guard?” ClanFintan asked.

A young man stepped forward and saluted crisply.

“Report,” ClanFintan ordered.

“My Lord, I was stationed at the northernmost watch point this side of the river. I heard a series of unexplained noises, so I climbed an old grandfather oak near my station. To the north, as far as I could see spread creatures with wings. I ran back with the news.”

“Victoria, get your Huntresses to the top of the wall. We have need of your crossbows.”

Vic and her Huntresses moved immediately to the steep stairs and began climbing to the top of the battlements. ClanFintan addressed the rest of the group, which was made up of members of my battered-looking guard and a third of his original legion, who were exhausted but determined.

“The women are collecting cauldrons and oil in the central courtyard. Get them up to the top of the wall. Bring torches and firewood. It may be the only way we can keep them from gaining the temple.”

The warriors sprinted away, leaving us alone with Dougal.

“Let us join the Huntresses,” ClanFintan said and led the way up the stairs.

It was steep going, and I had a sudden, uncomfortable flashback to just a couple of days before when I had followed Victoria up similarly steep steps, and into disaster.

The walkway that ran the length of the wall was smooth and wider than the roof battlements at the Muses’ temple had been. Epona’s balustrades were thick and well placed. We went up, and the Huntresses spread out, notching their crossbows at the ready. I stood between ClanFintan and Dougal, peering with them out into the murky evening light, trying to distinguish shapes from fog and mist. Nothing moved except the rain.

Noises from our side of the wall drew our attention as the warriors clambered up the stairs, straining under the weight of the heavy cauldrons and oil barrels. We concentrated on helping the warriors while the Huntresses and centaurs kept watch for the creatures.

Between every third or fourth balustrade, smoothed-out holes had been carved into the floor of the walkway. Hanging over the holes were iron hooks that were screwed securely into the side of the marble teethlike balustrades. The warriors began filling the holes up with hot coals and firewood. Then they suspended the cauldrons from the hooks, filled the cauldrons with oil and lit the fires.

I remembered ClanFintan’s words that had praised Epona’s Temple as a fortress, and Carolan explaining that, unlike the Muses, Epona was a warrior goddess. So the temple itself was ready for a fight—I just hoped we had enough warriors to man her.

Soon wounded centaurs and human warriors joined us. Their faces were set in grim lines and they followed orders without comment as ClanFintan stationed them around the length of the temple wall.

I heard him ask the sentry who had originally brought word of the Fomorians to us, “What is your name, warrior?”

“Patrick,” he answered.

“Does the temple have a storeroom supply of longbows and arrows?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Get them,” was ClanFintan’s sober response.

Carolan joined us briefly, checking on his patients.

ClanFintan pulled him aside to give him instructions. “Have Alanna gather all of the women within the temple. Tell them to bring one pack apiece—they should each be carrying a blanket, a bladder of wine and a weapon.” He paused. “Any weapon. A kitchen knife or a pair of scissors is better than nothing.”

“I will tell them.” Carolan hurried back down the stairs.

“ClanFintan!” Victoria’s voice snapped across the battlements. “There!”

We followed her pointing finger and saw that a line of creatures was approaching the temple wall. They came from all sides, like a tightening noose. I could hear their predatory hissing in the still evening air.

“Wait until the Huntress gives the word.” My husband’s voice was strong and sure. “Aim for their heads or necks. As most of you know, they are difficult to kill.”

The line drew closer.

I saw Victoria take aim with her crossbow. The Huntresses and the other warriors followed suit.

The line drew closer.

I could see the individual creatures. Their eyes shone with an unnatural reddish glow, and even in the low light their claws and teeth gleamed wetly.

“Now!” Victoria cried. There was a great whooshing of arrows, and the sickening sound of flesh being pierced by the deadly shafts. Many of the first line of creatures fell, but their comrades stepped over them and kept coming, oblivious to their death throes.

“Again!” Vic shouted. And the arrows thunked home.

On and on the arrows rained, but it didn’t stop the Fomorian mass. Too soon, they were at the foot of the slick temple walls.

“Spill the oil!” ClanFintan gave the order, and the cauldrons were dumped onto the creatures. Those nearest the wall screeched and writhed in agony as the boiling oil scalded flesh to the bone. The others hissed and paused, not sure they should continue climbing over the bodies of the dying.

“Drop the torches!” At ClanFintan’s order, warriors dropped lighted torches down onto the oil-soaked creatures, who instantly became flaming effigies of pain, blundering blindly into their living comrades, causing them, too, to catch afire. The flames spread down the temple grounds, and soon the creatures were running frantically, clawing over the top of each other to get away from the temple walls.