Brighid felt a stab of panic as she knelt beside her sister. Steam was rising from the equine part of Niam’s foam-flecked body, which quivered and twitched spasmodically. Niam’s human torso was slick and flushed an unnatural scarlet. Her blond hair was darkened with sweat and plastered against her delicate head. She had run herself dangerously past the point of exhaustion.
Suddenly Niam pushed the water skin away from her mouth, choked and coughed. Brighid brushed the wet hair from her sister’s face, murmuring to her.
“Shhh, you’re here now. Focus on being calm…on cooling the heat within your body.”
“No! Brighid, you have to listen!”
Niam clutched her hand and Brighid almost cried aloud at the heat that radiated from her sister.
“Later, Niam. When you’ve rested.”
“No, now!” The centaur spoke frantically, and then more violent coughs consumed her.
“Let her speak.”
Brighid looked up at the sound of Etain’s voice. The people who had gathered in the Great Hall parted so the Chosen of the Goddess could approach. The priestess’s face was serene, but when Brighid met her eyes she saw within them a terrible sadness that made her heart turn cold.
My sister is going to die.
Brighid turned back to her sister and held her flushed hand between both of her own, trying to will strength into her.
“I’m listening, Niam,” Brighid said.
“Mother died this morning, but the accident happened four days ago. She fell into a bison pit. The stakes pierced her.” Niam closed her eyes and shuddered with the horror of the memory. “I knew she was dying. We all knew it. I had to come for you.”
“No! No-that can’t be. We don’t hunt bison in pits. We don’t use stakes.” Brighid shook her head, feeling awash in confusion.
“It wasn’t a centaur pit. It was a pit of human design.”
A terrible, foreboding chill skittered through Brighid’s blood. “But humans do not hunt the Centaur Plains, not without the permission of the herd’s High Shaman.” Which the Dhianna Herd never gave.
“They trespassed and poached, causing the death of our mother.”
Niam had to stop again to cough. This time when she gasped for air afterward her lips were wet with blood-tinged spittle.
“Her dying has driven Bregon mad. Before I left the Plains he had already sworn to take up the Chalice of High Shaman and to lead the Dhianna Herd against any human who dared step foot on the Centaur Plains.”
Horrified, Brighid could only stare at her sister. Her brother was willing to begin a war over a dreadful accident?
Niam clenched her sister’s hands. “It’s not just the Dhianna Herd. Since word reached the Plains that the winged creatures were being accepted back into Partholon, the Shamans of other herds have joined us. They mean to make war, Brighid.”
Niam broke off, retching painfully and Brighid held her while blood spewed down her sister’s chest and ran in crimson rivulets to the floor.
“Mother didn’t send me for you. She wanted the war. She told Bregon over and over again to avenge her. I had to try to stop it. I had to come for you.”
Niam didn’t have to explain how she knew that their mother had died. The truth of it settled over Brighid as her mind flashed back to the stricken raven and the hate-filled words of its death rasp.
Avenge me!
As her spirit left her body, Mairearad Dhianna would have sent the same message to each of her children, hoping that even her death wouldn’t end the manipulative hold she considered the one true bond of motherhood. Even at the end of her life, her mother had still been plotting…trying to force them to bow to her will. In Brighid’s brother’s case, Mairearad seemed to have been victorious.
“Shhh now, Niam.” Brighid took the linen cloth Elphame silently passed to her and wiped the blood from her sister’s face. “We’ll figure this out. Shhh.”
Niam shook her head and gave a little half sob, half laugh. “You always thought that I was stupid.” When Brighid began to deny it, Niam just tightened her grip on her sister’s hand and kept speaking. “That part doesn’t matter now, but I wanted you to know that I wasn’t what you thought-I just wasn’t strong like you. I couldn’t stand up to her, so I made her believe that I wasn’t worth her notice.” Her lips trembled as she tried to smile. “And I fooled everyone. No one watched me, especially not Bregon. No one thought that I would be the one to come for you.” With surprising strength, Niam pulled her hand from her sister’s so that she could grip Brighid by the shoulders. “You must return. Even those who have been most corrupted by Mother would not dare to stand against the power of the Dhianna High Shaman. Take the Chalice. Make sure that Mother doesn’t win. Bring an end to the madness.”
Niam’s next cough was a bloody sob, and she slumped down onto the bench. Through the blood that was trickling steadily from her nose and the corner of her mouth, she smiled at her sister.
“I always envied you, Brighid. You got away from her. But maybe now I have finally gotten away from her, too…”
Niam’s eyes rolled so that only their whites showed, and her body convulsed so violently Brighid was knocked from her side. Through a haze of despair Brighid watched Etain. The Goddess Incarnate’s arms were spread wide, and as she spoke a pure white light emerged from her open palms, engulfing Niam.
Niam, sister to our Beloved Brighid, in the Name of
our Great Goddess
I bid you to forget your broken shell
It can serve you no longer.
I bid you in the Name of Epona,
Goddess of things wild and free,
To go beyond this pain…
To rest within the bosom of Epona’s Summerland.
Child of the Goddess, I release you!
Etain pressed her glowing hands against the centaur’s heaving flank, and Niam’s body went still. With a small, relieved gasp, Brighid’s sister breathed her last breath.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
In the stunned silence Elphame’s voice sounded calm and authoritative. “Lochlan, go to Ciara. Tell her what has happened. Have the adults keep the children away from the castle until I send word that they may return.”
The winged man hesitated only long enough to touch Brighid’s shoulder and murmur, “I am sorry for your loss, Huntress,” and then was gone.
“Mother,” Elphame continued. “Will you-”
Before she could finish the question Epona’s Chosen was already responding.
“Of course. Have her brought to me.” But like Lochlan, before she left the room she approached Brighid, who knelt on the floor near her sister’s body, head bowed. The Goddess Incarnate lifted one of the layers of her silk robe, and used it to wipe the blood and tears from Brighid’s face. She bent and kissed the Huntress on each cheek, as a mother would a daughter.
“Epona knows your pain, child, and the Goddess weeps with you.”
Then Etain hurried from the room, her clear voice echoing from the Main Courtyard as she called for her handmaidens.
Danann, the centaur Stonemaster, with the help of several men, took Niam’s body to Etain’s chamber.
When Cuchulainn and Elphame were alone with Brighid, he crouched down so that he was level with her eyes. He heard the clip of his sister’s hooves against the marble floor as she joined him.
“Brighid.” He pitched his voice so that it was calm, as his mother’s had been, even though his emotions were raw and bleeding. He understood too well her look of shock and grief. “Brighid,” he repeated, and she finally moved her eyes to his. “Come with El and me. Let’s leave this place of death.”
“But it’s my home,” she said numbly.
“It is still your home,” Elphame said quickly. “It will always be your home. Cuchulainn doesn’t mean for you to leave MacCallan Castle. Just this room.” Elphame took her friend’s limp hand. “Let’s go to your quarters and leave the cleansing of this to Wynne and my mother.”