The Huntress’s eyes sought and found the miniature speaker-a small girl child standing near Ciara. Her hair and wings were an unusual silver-gray, like the breast of a dove. Her large eyes were bright with intelligence.
“Thank you,” Brighid said.
“That is Kyna,” Cuchulainn said.
At the mention of her name the child bobbed excitedly on her tiptoes.
“Cuchulainn, can I come closer? Please! Pllllease!”
Cu looked questioningly at the Huntress. Not knowing what else to do, Brighid shrugged.
“Come on then,” Cu said. As the child sprinted forward with several of the other children close behind, Cuchulainn lifted his hand and said sternly, “Remember your manners!”
Kyna’s headlong rush instantly slowed and the children jostling behind her almost knocked her over. Brighid had to be careful not to laugh when the girl elbowed one of her friends and ordered, “Remember your manners!” sounding unerringly like Cuchulainn. She folded her little wings and walked much more sedately to stand in front of Brighid.
“You’re the famous Huntress Cuchulainn’s told us stories about, aren’t you?” The little girl’s face was bright with more than just the Fomorian’s distinctive luminous skin. She was a beautiful, fey-looking little thing, sparkling with intelligence and curiosity.
“Well, I am the Huntress Brighid. I don’t know how famous I am, though,” Brighid said, throwing Cuchulainn a look of mild annoyance.
“Oh, we do! We’ve heard all about you!”
“Really? You’ll have to share those stories with me,” Brighid said.
“Not now,” Cuchulainn said brusquely. “Now there is dinner to prepare.” He dismounted and began unlacing the ties that held the fresh meat behind his saddle.
“Did you get another deer, Cuchulainn?” Kyna asked, bouncing up and down.
“A wild, white sheep this time, Ky. And you can thank the Huntress for it. She is the one who brought the beast down,” he said, neatly turning the child’s attention back to Brighid.
Dozens of sets of round little eyes refocused on the Huntress.
Brighid shrugged. “I just beat him to the shot.”
“No, you’re special. We already know,” Kyna said. “May…may I touch you?”
Brighid looked helplessly at Cu, who was suddenly oh-so-busy handing the wrapped meat to Curran and Nevin.
“Please?” the child asked. “I’ve always wanted to meet a centaur.”
“Yes, I suppose that would be fine,” the Huntress said helplessly.
Kyna walked closer to Brighid and then reverently stretched out her hand and touched the Huntress’s gleaming golden coat. “You’re soft like water. And your hair is so pretty, just like Cuchulainn said. I think he’s right. It’s good that you keep it long even though most Huntresses cut theirs short.”
“I-I’ve never felt the need to cut it,” Brighid stuttered, completely take aback by the child’s comment. Cuchulainn talked about her hair?
“Good. You shouldn’t.”
“I want to be a Huntress when I grow up!” shouted a voice from the throng.
Kyna rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You can’t be a Huntress, Liam. You’re not a centaur and you’re not a female.”
Brighid watched one of the taller children’s faces fall and she felt a panicky knot within her when his eyes filled with tears.
“You could still be a hunter, Liam,” Brighid said. “Some centaurs agree to train humans in the ways of a Huntress.” As soon as she said it she realized her ridiculous error. The little winged male was definitely not human. He’d probably really cry now. What if he started the rest of them crying? But Liam didn’t notice anything wrong with what she’d said. His fanged smile was radiant.
“Do you really mean it? Would you teach me?” The boy rushed up to her and soon his small, warm hand was patting her sleek side.
Teach him? She had no intention of teaching him or anyone-especially anyone whose head didn’t reach her shoulder. Brighid’s panic expanded. She had just been trying to keep the child from crying.
“If she’s going to teach Liam I want her to teach me, too!” Another child disengaged from the group and skipped up to Brighid, hero-worship shining in his big blue eyes.
“Me, too!” said a little girl with hair the color of daisies.
Brighid had no idea how it had happened, but she was surrounded by small, winged beings who were chattering away about their lives as Huntresses. Warm little hands patted her legs and flanks while Kyna asked never-ending questions about how Brighid kept her hair out of her eyes while she hunted, and what she rinsed it with to make it shine so, and did she use the same rinse on the horse part of her, and…
Brighid would’ve rather been thrust into a pack of angry wolves, at least she could kick her way clear and escape.
“Perhaps we should give the Huntress time to unload her packs and fill her stomach before we ask more of her,” Ciara’s firm voice cut through the high-pitched, childish jabbering.
Little hands reluctantly dropped from the centaur’s body.
Undaunted, Kyna still chirped with excitement. “Can Brighid stay at our lodge?”
To Brighid’s intense relief, Cuchulainn spoke up. “I think it would be best if the Huntress lodged with me. She’s part of my Clan, remember?”
“Yes, I remember,” Kyna said softly, kicking at a dirt clod with bare feet that Brighid noticed ended in remarkably sharp-looking talons.
They are such anomalies, the Huntress thought. Not really human and yet obviously not Fomorian. How will they ever find their place in Partholon?
“Cuchulainn, why don’t you show Brighid to your lodge. I’ll send for you when it is time for the evening meal.”
Cu surprised Brighid by tossing the reins of his gelding to little Kyna.
“Take care of him for me.”
“Of course I will, Cu! You know I’m his favorite.” The child giggled. “Bye, Brighid. I’ll see you again at the evening meal,” she said before clucking and tugging fussily at the big gelding’s reins. The horse blew through his nose into the child’s hair and then plodded docilely after her.
“Go on now, the rest of you! You have chores to finish before we eat,” Ciara told the children.
In clusters of two and three, they rushed off like darting fish, calling goodbyes to Brighid and Cuchulainn.
“I think they were better this time,” Ciara said to the warrior.
“Well, at least there was a lot less jumping and dancing,” Cu said.
“Better than what?” Brighid asked.
Ciara smiled. “Better than when they first met Cuchulainn.”
Brighid snorted.
“You laugh, but we’re serious,” Cu said.
“I didn’t laugh. I scoffed disbelievingly. There is a distinct difference,” the Huntress said, wiping at a smudgy handprint that had been left on her golden coat.
“You’ll get used to them,” Ciara said. And at the look on the centaur’s face she laughed.
Brighid thought she had never heard such a lovely, musical sound.
Cuchulainn harrumphed. “Now it’s my turn to scoff.”
“Oh, Cuchulainn, you’re getting along with the children just fine. They adore you!” Ciara said.
“I’m not interested in their adoration. I just want to be sure they arrive safely at MacCallan Castle,” Cuchulainn said sharply, his face hardening into a blank, emotionless mask.
“Of course,” Ciara said, her smile never wavering.
It was interesting, Brighid thought, to watch how familiarly the beautiful winged woman spoke to Cu. And how she ignored the way he had turned cold and withdrawn.
“I’ll leave you with Cuchulainn. He knows his way around. If there is anything you need, he will know if we can provide it. We do not have much here, Brighid, but what we have we willingly share.”
“Thank you,” Brighid said, automatically responding to Ciara’s openness and warmth.
“Cuchulainn, the evening meal will be in the longhouse, as usual, after the dusk blessing ceremony. Please bring Brighid. And it would be nice if this time you chose to stay and share the meal with us.” Ciara nodded politely to Brighid before she turned and gracefully walked away.