“I’m so sorry. Fleance?”
“Recovering, thanks to the gods. Balor arrived just in time. He was able to heal Fleance in time, but Merna… She was too far gone.”
“Oh, Banquo,” I whispered, stepping toward him. My heart ached. “Banquo,” I said, reaching out to him.
“Don’t come too close,” Banquo said, motioning to me in warning, “or you will step through.” Banquo looked off into the distance. “What will I do now? My son…”
“Bring him to me. Bring him to me, and I shall care for your child. I will raise him alongside Lulach. Bring Fleance when he is well enough to travel—and Morag.”
Banquo stared at me. “Are you… Are you certain?”
Tears welled in my eyes. “I will never give you a son in this life. Let me care for your boy as if he were my own. For Merna and for you.”
Banquo wept hard.
My heart broke at the sight.
But then there was a sound in the distance, and the dual image wavered. I heard someone call Banquo’s name.
Banquo turned and looked at me. “Cerridwen?”
“My heart goes with you,” I whispered.
A moment later, the image disappeared.
I squeezed the handle on my dagger then stared up at the moon. My mind whirled. I was furious at Macbeth, sad for Fleance and Banquo, grieved Merna’s loss, but also—much to my shame—felt an enormous sense of relief over her death. Merna was a good woman, and her goodness had served as a barrier between Banquo and me. And now… I was ashamed of my thoughts.
“I’m sorry, Merna,” I whispered. “You were so good to me. I am sorry I loved him first,” I whispered then turned and headed back upstairs.
Merna was gone.
But there was still Macbeth.
When I reached the landing, I heard boots coming my direction. I turned to find Macbeth walking toward me. “Gruoch?”
Scáthach still in my hand, I held the dagger in front of me.
Macbeth slowed. “Gruoch?”
“How now, Macbeth?”
“Gruoch, what is the matter? You’re as pale as snow. Have you… Were you crying? What’s wrong?”
“Who was in your chamber?” the raven hissed.
“My chamber?”
“Who was in your chamber?”
“I…was with my priest. I was in prayer. It is the time of Christ’s birth. I took my prayers in private so I would not disturb you. I know you do not follow the White Christ. My guard always sees to it my prayers are not disturbed.”
Lies. He lies!
With the double vision of myself and the raven, I studied his face. Was he lying? Gruoch doubted, but the raven did not. It was all I could do to keep the raven within from stabbing him right then and there.
“Gruoch, is that why you are upset?” He moved toward me.
I stepped back. “I was not crying over you,” I snapped.
Macbeth recoiled like he’d been slapped. “You don’t have to be so harsh. Then…what is it?”
“Merna is dead.”
“There was a messenger? Someone came in this storm?”
“There was a messenger, but there is no one here.”
At that, Macbeth paused. Understanding, his expression darkened. “I see,” he said.
I stared at him.
“Is Lulach abed? I brought this for him,” Macbeth said, holding out a small wooden duck.
I stared at the toy. “He’s sleeping.”
“No matter. I have a whole barn of them carved to give him in the morning. Why don’t you get some rest? This news from Lochaber is upsetting.”
Without another word, I turned and headed toward my chamber.
“Gruoch?”
I went inside my chamber, closing and locking it behind me. I leaned against the door and stared into the bright space. The fire was burning brightly. I could hear Tira and Rhona inside their maids’ chambers, both of them snoring. The door to my bedchamber was open. I spotted Lulach sprawled out the bed, Thora taking up what little space Lulach had left.
My heart was pounding in my chest. I was filled with rage. But why?
He was with his priest.
That made sense.
Right?
Right?
But if it did, why was I so angry?
He lies! He lies!
I closed my eyes and let the raven wholly in.
I felt a sharp jarring woosh as the raven and I became one. The beating sound of raven’s wings overwhelmed me, and a moment later, I flung myself from my body and flew out the window. I glided, an ethereal creature, on black feathers around the castle to Macbeth’s chamber. A thing no denser than the wind, I blasted into Macbeth’s bedchamber then shifted once more into my own form.
There, lying in Macbeth’s bed, was one of the kitchen wenches. A plump girl with long brown hair lay sleeping in the nude. The distinct smell of carnal relations filled the air.
You see! He lies! He lies!
The chamber door opened.
Macbeth stepped inside.
He grinned at the girl then began untying the lace on his shirt. He tossed the little wooden duck into the fireplace.
But then, he felt it.
He shivered as if struck by the cold.
His eyes wide, he turned and looked at me.
Not just me, but the raven.
I shrieked loudly.
The sound rattled everything in the room. The looking glass on the wall shivered and fell to the ground, crashing into a thousand pieces. The wail woke the woman who looked around the room, disoriented. She looked through and past me. She did not see.
Macbeth made the sign of the cross over himself.
I sneered at him then turned and flew back out the window, shifting into my winged form once more. I flew back into my own chamber then slammed back into my body.
I gasped then my eyes popped open.
I fell to the floor, my head hitting the stones hard.
Scáthach fell from my hand and bounced across the floor.
Then the tremor struck.
My back stiffened first, and then my arms and legs started shaking.
“What in the world was—Lady Gruoch!” I heard Rhona call. “Tira, get up, Lady Gruoch is having a fit.”
“Oh my goddess, my lady!” Tira exclaimed.
“Her head is bleeding. Dammit, Lord Banquo has gone back to Lochaber. Run downstairs, and find the healer that rides with Macbeth’s army.”
I heard the door open and close.
Rhona’s strong hands fought to hold me still. I shook and shook, unable to control the tremors. The taste of blood filled my mouth.
“Hold on, my lady. Just hold on. Try to breathe, and let it pass. Just try to breathe, and let it pass. Hold on.”
“Mum?” I heard Lulach call.
“Your mum is sick, little lord. Please stay abed until we get her well again.”
“Mum? Mum?”
I stared at a spot on the ceiling.
A moment later, the image of Gillacoemgain appeared over me, looking down at me with worry on his face.
A realization struck me. I could let go. I could just let go and go to him now if I wanted to. If I let go, if I stepped out of my body, I could stay there with him in the otherworld. My body shook hard, the taste of blood filling my mouth. I could let go and be done with all this pain.
“Mum? Mum?” Lulach called then began crying.
Gillacoemgain looked at Lulach then back at me, a sad smile on his face.
No. It was not time yet.
I opened my lips to whisper.
“Don’t try to talk,” Rhona told me. “Don’t try to talk, my lady.”
“An…An…Andraste,” I whispered.
A moment later, I caught the scent of flowers, and the world around me and Rhona grew dark.