“Because they’re the color of his eyes,” Brighid said.
Surprised, Elphame smiled at her friend. “I never thought of that before, but I’ll bet you’re right.”
“I think Brenna would like what you’ve done to remember her.” As Brighid spoke the words she Felt the rightness of them, deep within the part of her that had recently begun to stir.
“I think you’re right. She was too important to become a forgotten piece of the past.”
“She won’t be. There are seventy winged children who will pass on her story. The New Fomorians seem to have a very long memory.” Brighid raised a brow contemplatively. “And I don’t think you’ll need to look any farther for that artist. Has Lochlan mentioned how many of the hybrids are descendants of Incarnate Goddesses of the Muse?”
“I don’t recall him saying anything specific about any of the foremothers, except his own,” El said. “I was as surprised as the rest of the Clan to find out their Shaman was Terpsichore’s granddaughter.”
“Wait till you see the talent that’s been hidden in the Wastelands all these years. The walls of their Great Hall were covered with spectacular artwork. Even the legs of the tables were carved into blooming flowers. You, my Chieftain friend, have inherited a group of artists.”
“That is excellent news. I wonder why Lochlan didn’t mention it.”
Before meeting the New Fomorians Brighid would have second-guessed Lochlan’s silence, reading ulterior motives and sly evasion into his omission. Now she thought she knew better. She smiled at her friend.
“Men-be they human, hybrid, or centaur-are essentially alike. They tend to say too little about important matters and too much about the obvious.”
Elphame laughed. “That, my Huntress friend, is the truth.” She leaned against the stone of the castle and studied the centaur. “So, you want to tell me about your apprentice?”
Brighid gave a long-suffering sigh. “The boy is obviously confused.”
“And?” Elphame prompted.
“And for some mad reason I find I care about him. He’s…” She sighed again. “He’s endearing. And he has no parents.”
“He needs you,” Elphame said.
“I supposed he needs me, and, in some way I might need him, too. Or at least taking responsibility felt right after he was wounded.”
“What happened?”
“The Guardian Warriors were not as eager to welcome the New Fomorians as was Clan MacCallan. All they knew of the hybrids was what they had learned from Fallon. She has…deteriorated even further.” Brighid shook her head. “She mocked Cuchulainn. It was ghastly and disturbing.”
“I should have ignored her child and killed her. For Cuchulainn. For Brenna. For all of us.”
“No!” Brighid turned to her Chieftain. “You did the right thing. Anything less would have been uncivilized and unjust.” The Huntress’s gaze went back to their friend’s tomb. “Fallon did kill Brenna-and that was a terrible act. But she committed the crime out of a desire to save her people. In return for choosing the only path she thought open to her, she was rewarded with madness, imprisonment and soon death.”
“Are you saying she should be forgiven?” Elphame asked, incredulous.
“Not forgiven. But perhaps understood and pitied.” Brighid pressed her hands against the balustrade. “Some things in life can’t be placed tidily on sides of good or evil. We are often in the midst of a balancing act, where the scales are hopefully tipped toward the good and away from the evil. But sometimes evil wears the face of friends and family. And good looks like the outlander.”
Elphame studied her. “Are you well, Brighid?”
She met her Chieftain’s clear gaze. “I’m relieved to be home.”
“I missed you. Having you and Cu gone at the same time-” Elphame drew in a ragged breath “-I hope it doesn’t happen again soon.”
“I have no intention of going anywhere except hunting-on rich MacCallan soil.”
“Good. Now if we can just convince Cu that he should stay.” Elphame turned to face her friend. “Thank you for bringing my brother back to me. I will always be grateful to you.”
“You don’t have to thank me, El. He’s my friend, too, and he belongs here. With you-with Clan MacCallan. Here he can heal.”
Elphame sighed. “He looks so old and tired. I could tell that it was hard for him to be here.”
“It is, but it is also where he needs to be. It’s time for his self-imposed exile to end,” Brighid said.
Elphame shook her head. “It was so unlike him to leave like that. Cu doesn’t run from problems, and he’s always found strength in family.”
“Cuchulainn left because he lost a part of himself,” Brighid explained. “The joyous, life-loving part of his soul couldn’t bear the grief of losing Brenna. It shattered and has remained in the Otherworld. That’s why Cu has acted so unlike himself. That’s why it has been so difficult for him to heal.”
“Oh, Goddess!” Elphame breathed. “What are we going to do? There has to be a soul retrieval.” She looked desperately around them. “Mama! She can fix this! We have to-”
Brighid’s hand on her arm broke off Elphame’s rant.
“Your mother already knows. There is going to be a soul retrieval, only she’s not going to perform it.”
Elphame’s brows drew together. “Then who? Da? Is he coming?”
“No, El.” Brighid drew a deep breath. “Your father’s not going to perform the soul retrieval either. I am.”
Elphame blinked. “You are?”
Brighid shrugged her shoulders, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. “So it seems. Your mother agrees. Cuchulainn agrees.”
“But you’re not a Shaman.”
“No, but apparently that makes little difference. I-I have a…” She paused, trying to decide how to phrase it. “I have a power in my blood. Your mother calls it a gift. I’m just learning about it. I think-” she took another deep breath, feeling a little like she was plunging into a pool of icy water “-I think it’s the same gift my mother has in her blood. You know I’m the daughter of Mairearad Dhianna.”
Elphame nodded.
“I’m the eldest daughter of Mairearad Dhianna.”
Elphame sucked in a breath. “And you left the herd to become a Huntress! All this time I assumed you were just one of the High Shaman’s younger daughters.” The Chieftain shook her head, a slight smile tilting her lips. “I’ll bet your leaving caused quite a bit of-” El broke off. “That’s why we understand each other so well. We’re both daughters who have chosen to break tradition. I was to have followed my mother as Epona’s Chosen. You were to have followed yours as High Shaman of the Dhianna. Little wonder the Goddess caused our paths to cross.”
“Except your mother supports and accepts your decision. Mine does not. She is not like Etain.” Brighid stared out into the night. “When I left my mother I was determined to leave that unwanted life behind me, which included the power in my blood that tied me to her. I felt I had to deny it and suppress it to prove that I was different-that I was committed to another destiny.” Brighid rubbed at her face. She wanted to explain herself to Elphame, she needed to. But it was difficult. Would it always be this hard to talk about herself and her life before she came to MacCallan Castle? “But there were parts of my powers, or gifts-as your mother puts it-that I couldn’t deny. You know I’m a Master Huntress. Perhaps even so adept at finding and capturing prey that I could vie for Lead Huntress of Partholon.”
“Yes, of course. I’ve often marveled at your skills, as has the rest of our Clan. We’re fortunate to claim you as our own.”
“It’s because my gift is an affinity with the spirits of animals.” Brighid spoke quickly as her friend began to protest. “I’m not saying that I don’t have the skills of a Huntress. Of course I do. I’ve gone through the training. I understand the ways of animals and I can track anything that moves over the earth. But I have more than a normal Huntress’s abilities. I Feel the spirits of the deer and elk, boar and bear. I know them in a way that is only possible because of the powers gifted to me by Epona.”