“You haven’t-” Brighid hesitated, unsure how to frame the question “-been here since…” She trailed off awkwardly.
“You mean have I been haunting MacCallan Castle?” Brenna laughed, a shy, sweet sound. “No. Tonight is a special night. I felt compelled to come here…and to talk with you…” Her eyes took on a faraway look, as if she could see something beautiful through the stone walls. Then Brenna laughed again, and her eyes turned back to her friend. “ MacCallan Castle already has one ghost. It doesn’t need another.”
“I didn’t know there was a limit,” Brighid said.
“There isn’t. But it wouldn’t be good for me, or for Clan MacCallan, if I lingered here. It’s important for all of us to move on.”
“You mean Cuchulainn.”
“Yes, I mean Cuchulainn.” When Brenna spoke his name her voice softened to a verbal caress. “But not just him. El, you, me-we all have our destinies. I met mine, and it would not be just if I stood in the way of the rest of you meeting yours.”
Brenna’s words chilled Brighid.
“Is there something I should know, Brenna?”
“I didn’t come to your dreams as a harbinger of doom. You are fated to live a long life, my Huntress friend. I just want to make sure it is a long and happy one.”
Brighid blinked in surprise.
Brenna smiled. “You didn’t expect that, did you?”
“I thought you were here because of Cuchulainn.”
“I am, in a way. What I want you to know will help both of you.”
“What is it, Brenna?”
“The turquoise stone was my gift to you. Use it to heal Cu.”
“I will, Brenna. He’s already better. He visited your parents’ grave today after Master Fagan told him what had happened to your family. He vowed that he would not-” Brighid broke off, horrified by what she had almost blurted. Where was her mind? Would she never get control of her habitually too-honest tongue!
The Healer’s spirit form reached out and laid a cool, almost weightless hand on Brighid’s arm. “You can say it, my friend. Death has healed that old wound. The past cannot cause me pain.”
“Cu vowed that he would recover so that you would not be responsible for the death of another man you love,” Brighid said softly.
“Good. If learning of my past did that for him I only wish that he had known it earlier. Perhaps he could have begun healing sooner.”
She straightened her shoulders and pushed back her hair. Brighid could only stare. The terrible scars that had given the right side of her face a melted appearance had faded, leaving her skin whole and astonishingly beautiful.
“Oh.” Brenna lifted her hand to her smooth cheek. “They’re gone. It’s odd. I don’t take a physical form often, and when I do sometimes the scars are there, sometimes they are not. I find that it matters little.”
“That’s how Danann carved your image, without scars,” Brighid said. “He said he didn’t even realize he was doing it, he just did as his memory directed him.”
Brenna’s smile was bright. “I always thought that old centaur was more spirit than body.” Then the little Healer’s eyes took on a faraway look and her body wavered and became less substantial.
“Brenna?”
The spirit blinked and pulled her attention back to the Huntress. “I don’t have much more time. The most important thing I came to tell you is that I want your oath that you will keep an open mind.”
“About what?”
“About everything that may seem impossible.”
“Brenna, can’t you be a little more specific?”
“I can, but you’re not ready for that. Yet. And anyway, it’s something you’re going to have to discover on your own. I can’t help you any more than I already have. So, just give me your oath, please.”
Brighid frowned. “All right. You have my oath.”
Brenna looked relieved. “Thank you, Brighid.”
“Do you want me to tell Cuchulainn anything for you?” Brighid said quickly, concerned that, like a beautiful sketch slowly being erased, her friend’s form was fading.
“You can tell him about this visit, but not now. It’s not the right time.” Brenna’s voice was taking on the breezy quality of an echo.
“Wait! When will it be the right time?”
“You’ll know. Freely, and without any hesitation, I leave him to you, my friend. Remember that…freely… Sleep now, Brighid, and may your future be richly blessed…” The spirit faded into nothingness.
Brighid slept deeply. For the rest of the night she dreamed only of the fresh scent of pine trees on an early morning hunt.
The children had eaten a morning meal of venison sandwiches and hunks of goat cheese and, with the help of the Guardian Warriors, had broken camp before the sun had seen fit to peek above the horizon. Brighid couldn’t blame them. She was in a hurry to be on her way, too. Not that Guardian Castle hadn’t been hospitable, but she was more than ready to exchange the thick gray walls for the ancient forest that covered the northeastern part of Partholon. The Huntress needed to think through her dream, and ponder the message from her unexpected visitor.
The New Fomorians were lined up like little warriors behind Cuchulainn and Brighid, waiting semipatiently as they finished the business of thanking their hosts.
“We do so appreciate the loan of the cart,” Ciara was saying to the four Masters, who shrugged off her thanks.
As well they should. It was their fault the boy needs to be carried in it, Brighid thought, glancing over at Liam who reclined comfortably on pelts and down-filled pillows-all gifts from the Guardian Warrior who had wounded him. The boy’s face was pale, but he was wide-awake, and when he caught Brighid looking his way he grinned cheekily at her. She smiled back at him but mouthed the word, rest. Liam nodded, but the happy smile stayed on his face and his wide, curious eyes took in everything around them. As they had anticipated, the boy had been completely annoyed that he had missed what he called “all the fun” with the Guardian Warriors, and was only slightly mollified by the news that Brighid had formally proclaimed him her apprentice.
Brighid snorted softly to herself. The young imp had said he’d known all along he was supposed to be a Huntress; he had just been waiting for Brighid to admit it. By the Goddess, what was she going to do with the boy!
“Your apprentice looks well this morning,” Cu said, following her gaze and nodding in response to Liam’s grin and wave.
“Don’t remind me,” Brighid grumbled.
“Don’t remind you that he looks well?” Cuchulainn raised his brows.
“No, don’t remind me that he’s my apprentice. The boy thinks he’s a centaur Huntress.”
Cuchulainn tilted his head to the side, and scratched his chin with an exaggerated, considering gesture. “Would that make him gender or species confused?”
“Both,” Brighid grumped.
Cuchulainn laughed, a full, heartfelt, joyous sound. If taking on such an unusual apprentice had prompted Cu’s open, infectious laughter to return, Brighid thought it might very well be worth it.
“The Masters would like to join us for our morning blessing ceremony,” Ciara said. Her beautiful dark eyes sparkled as she smiled sweetly up at the laughing Cuchulainn.
“Excellent.” Cu returned the winged woman’s smile. “I think it would do them good to witness one of your rituals to Epona.”
Brighid watched their friendly exchange with a quiver of irritation. Of course Ciara would materialize the instant Cu laughed. The two of them obviously had some kind of connection. But watching them beam foolishly back and forth at each other was damned annoying. It also made Brighid feel more than a little invisible.
“I would like to offer our thanks to the Goddess outside of the walls of Guardian Castle -on the soil of Partholon,” Ciara said.