She heard laughter and splashing water before she opened her eyes.
“Huntress! I wish you’d make up your mind about where we are. It’s dizzying to be pulled from one place to another.”
Brighid blinked her eyes open and stared. She had gone from prairie to forest within the space of a breath. The day was still warm, but the indirect sunlight filtered through the green canopy, so that the thick leaf loam of the forest floor was dappled and hazy. It took a moment for her vision to adjust. More splashing came from the other side of the moss-covered mound of rocks directly in front of her. Totally confused, she trotted forward and the waterfall-fed pond came into view. Cuchulainn was in the middle, water covering him to the waist. His chest was bare, and he looked young and soggy with his wet hair plastered to his head.
Brighid was just about to laugh at him when she recognized where they were. It was the bathing pool she and Elphame and Brenna had discovered during the early renovations of MacCallan Castle. The three of them had bathed there often and Brenna had told her it was a special trysting site for her and Cuchulainn. Brighid’s gut tightened.
Brenna had been killed here.
“You should know that I recognize your ulterior motive. You were afraid of losing the race to me, so you dreamed us here.”
“Losing the race? With you and that fat gelding of yours?” she scoffed, using annoyance to cover the uncomfortable tension that hummed within her. “Ridiculous.”
“Ah, well then. That only leaves one reason why you would dream us here.” He held his arms out, palms open, inviting her into a watery embrace. “You wanted to get me naked.”
Brighid gave him a disgusted look. “Cuchulainn, you are deluded.”
“Hey, it’s your dream.”
“And you’re not naked. Or you won’t be soon.” She pointed at the clothes that had been haphazardly piled on the rocks. “Get dressed.” With a flick of her tail she turned her back to him. “Did anyone ever tell you that you are entirely too preoccupied with sex?” she called above the noises of him emerging from the pool.
“El might have mentioned it a time or two. She’s wrong, of course,” he said as he used his kilt to dry his body.
“Really?” Brighid said sarcastically.
“Really. She doesn’t understand that my passion for life and my passion for women are pieces of the same whole. I choose to live life fully, enjoying all of its richness and beauty. Women, or sex, as you and she put it, are a natural part of experiencing the fullness of a well-lived life.”
His words prickled down her spine. “If you stopped desiring women-what would that mean?” she asked him.
“Goddess help me! That would mean I was dead!” He laughed heartily. “You can turn around now, Huntress.”
Brighid turned to face him, a frown of worry creasing her brow. “Seriously, Cu. Are you telling me that your love for women is a reflection of how much you love life?”
“Yes.” He used an edge of his kilt to wipe water from his face. “Why all the questions?”
“It’s my dream. I can ask what I want,” she muttered distractedly.
“Harrumph!” The warrior grunted. “You surprise me, Brighid. I would have thought you’d loosen up a little in your sleep. But I guess this proves that dreams are really only reflections of life.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Cuchulainn shrugged. “You’re always so uptight. You remind me of a sentry who is perpetually on guard.”
“That is an absurd thing to say!” Brighid sputtered.
“Face it-” Cu sprawled on the ground, his back resting against the moss-covered boulder “-you never relax.”
“Cu, we’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you.”
“All right-all right.” He held up his hands in mock surrender and grinned at her. “But I’d at least like to know why you’re so set on talking about me.”
“Because you’re the one who keeps showing up in my dreams!” she blurted.
“And you think I know why?” He chuckled. “I have nothing to do with it. I admit that you are a rare beauty, Brighid, but if I were to purposefully enter a maiden’s dreams I believe my choice would be less-” he hesitated, eyes sparkling mischievously, as they roved down her equine body “-hairy.”
Brighid stiffened. “I am not hairy.”
Cuchulainn laughed again. “You should see the expression on your face! You look like I just told you that deer had grown wings and you were going to have to track them through the air.”
“I can’t track something that can fly,” she replied automatically.
Like a snuffed candle the open smile that was so naturally a part of Cuchulainn suddenly went out.
“I-I must go now.” He stood and looked around him as if he wasn’t sure where he was.
“What is it, Cu?” But she didn’t need to ask-she knew what was wrong with him.
The joyful fragment of Cuchulainn’s soul that stood before her was remembering.
“No…” Even as he shook his head in denial he was turning slowly, inexplicably away from the pool of water and toward the rough little path that led through the forest to the road to MacCallan Castle. He took two leaden steps forward before stumbling to a halt. When he looked back at Brighid his face was so pale that, for the first time, he looked more spirit than man. “This is all just a dream. In the morning I will wake at MacCallan Castle. We’re preparing the Chieftain’s Chambers for Elphame. You, Brenna and me.”
Brighid approached Cu’s shattered spirit slowly. The space in front of him was an ordinary enough part of the forest-just a small trail leading through a grove of umbrella-shaped plants and wildflowers. But she recognized it. It was where the mad hybrid, Fallon, had killed Brenna while the little Healer had been waiting to meet Cuchulainn. Two moons ago Brighid had led the rescue party from this very spot. She’d followed Fallon’s trail, taking them deep into the forest until the creature’s tracks disappeared because the hybrid had used her wings to catch the air currents and glide. As Brighid had explained to the distraught warrior that day, a Huntress could not track something that could fly…
“My friend, we-” Brighid began.
“No!” Cuchulainn cut her off. He lurched back from her, and then his horrified expression changed. He forced a laugh through bloodless lips that were twisted in more of a grimace than a smile. “This is a mistake…I haven’t visited your dream…I’ve become trapped in your nightmare…”
“Cuchulainn!” Brighid held her hand out to him in a gesture meant to call him back, but instead he flinched away from her, backing even farther into the forest.
“No. I cannot. It’s time to awaken, Huntress…”
The warrior’s body faded as he blended into the shadows of the trees.
“Huntress…”
Brighid’s eyes flew open.
“Cuchulainn, wait!” She reached out and this time she was able to grab him.
Acting on instinct, he whirled around pulling the throwing dagger from his belt and moving smoothly into a defensive stance, blade held at the ready. When he realized what had attacked his leg, he lowered the knife.
“By the Goddess, Brighid! You almost got yourself stabbed.”
“Sorry,” she muttered, struggling to orient herself. What had happened? Where were they now?
“You want to let go of me?”
She looked at her hand, which was still clutching the soft leather of his boot.
“Brighid?” Cu crouched down, peering into the tent at the prone form of the centaur Huntress. Her eyes were wide and round and her expression was stunned. “Are you unwell?”
“We’re with the hybrids, not far from Guardian Pass?” Her voice sounded unnaturally breathless, like she’d just finished a marathon. “And we’re awake.”
“Yes, of course, to both of your questions! What’s wrong with you?”
Brighid let loose his leg, rubbed her eyes, and then smoothed back the long silver-blond fall of her hair. “Nightmare. Just a nightmare. You woke me from it when you walked by.”