The moon glistened off the black liquid expanse of the B’an Sea. Brighid focused her eyes on its vastness that stayed the same, no matter how quickly her spirit sped over it. It helped to quell the dizziness she couldn’t quite shake off, and it was only when her spirit slowed noticeably that she allowed her gaze to move from the water to the land. The Huntress sucked in a breath in surprise.
Below her MacCallan Castle was alight with life. Torches blazed from the battlements and the inside walls. Though it was late, the sentries were attentively pacing the newly reconstructed walkway. The sight of her adopted home was bittersweet. She loved seeing it again, but it also saddened her. It reminded her too well of how much she and Cuchulainn would rather be there than sleeping in a lonely cave at the edge of the Centaur Plains.
Fate has decreed otherwise, child.
The Goddess’s voice soothed her mind like a gentle caress and she felt her melancholy ease. Then the Huntress shook her head, ashamed of herself. Who was she to question fate and the Goddess’s will? Brenna had met her fate willingly. Niam had embraced hers honorably. Could Brighid do any less?
You may question, child, just as you may choose. I believe that you will choose wisely when the time comes.
Brighid bowed her head, humbled by the trust in the Goddess’s words.
Now observe so that you will have the knowledge you need when the time comes…
Her body dropped down at a speed that had her eyes blurring until she was jerked to a sudden halt. Blinking to clear her vision, she realized she was hovering near the ceiling of the Great Hall. Below her, sitting at their usual places at the Chieftain’s table were Elphame and Lochlan. The only other person in the room was the head cook, Wynne. She was standing in front of the table. Between them, on the tabletop, was a mound of freshly picked herbs. Elphame was absently feeling the broad green leaf of one of the plants that Brighid thought she recognized as basil.
When Ciara hurried into the Great Hall, everyone’s attention shifted from the herbs to her.
Her smile was open and curious as she approached the table and curtsied gracefully. “You sent for me?”
“Yes,” Elphame said. “I know it’s late, but Wynne only just told me about this. And I wanted to speak to you at once.”
“This?” Ciara asked.
“The herbs the children have been tending,” Elphame said, pointing at the fragrant pile.
Ciara’s forehead wrinkled as her brows drew together. “Have the children done something wrong? They’re usually so good with plants I didn’t think they would cause any problem in the kitchen’s gardens. But if they’ve harmed something I will see that-”
“They dinna harm the wee plants, Shaman,” Wynne blurted, interrupting Ciara’s apology. “They made them grow.”
Obviously confused, Ciara looked from the pile of herbs to the cook, and then back at the herbs. “I don’t understand.”
Only Brighid noticed that Etain had entered the room and was listening to the exchange with interest.
“Well, I donna understand either, but I do know what I see with me own eyes and touch with me own hands. In the space of the three days the bairns have been tending them, they have grown more than they would have in three weeks. The bairns made the herbs grow,” she said firmly.
“But weren’t they already growing? All the children did was water and weed them.”
“I think the children did much more than that.” Etain’s voice came from the doorway.
“Mama.” Elphame sent the High Priestess a relieved look and motioned for her to join them. “I was just going to send for you.”
Etain smiled at her daughter, but kept most of her attention trained on Ciara.
“Touch the plants, Shaman. See if they can tell you what it is Wynne already knows.”
Hesitantly Ciara placed her slender hand atop the pile of herbs. She closed her eyes and took several deep cleansing breaths. Then her mouth formed a surprised little “O” and she gasped. When she opened her eyes Brighid could see they were filled with unshed tears.
“Tell my daughters what it is you have discovered, Ciara,” Etain said.
“The children did make the plants grow! Oh, Goddess!” Overcome with emotion the winged woman bowed her head and pressed her hand against her mouth.
“Mama, what is it? What has happened?” Elphame asked.
“Epona has given the New Fomorians a great gift,” Etain said.
“They were born from death and destruction, and they have lived with madness and loss,” Ciara said through tears of joy. “And now our great Goddess has granted us the ability to nurture life.”
“It’s not just now,” Etain told the Shaman. “They’ve always had the gift-you’ve always had the gift. How do you think you were able to bring forth life and hold to love and hope and not give in to utter despair in the desolation of the Wastelands?”
“It is, indeed, a great gift,” Elphame said, taking her husband’s hand and looking into his beloved face. “And we have been richly blessed to have you here with us.”
“You are our home, my heart. There is nowhere else we would choose to be,” Lochlan said, gently touching her cheek.
“Think of what this will mean, Elphame!” Ciara gushed. “We can be useful and bring forth food, not just for MacCallan Castle, but for trade and…”
Brighid lost the rest of Ciara’s words as her spirit drifted up through the ceiling of the Great Hall and into the night sky. This time when the earth blurred as her spirit sped back to the south, Brighid’s thoughts were too preoccupied by what she had just witnessed for her head to spin and become dizzy.
Epona had given the New Fomorians the ability to nurture life from the earth. Little wonder Liam had shown such an aptitude for understanding the spirits of animals-he had been gifted with an affinity for the earth and for growing things. The leap to understanding the spirits of animals wasn’t a long one.
Brighid was glad for them. They were a people who had overcome great evil and exhibited great good. It was just that they had been given the ability to nurture, renew, and grow.
Remember when you awake, child.
The Huntress’s spirit settled back into her body and she heard Etain’s words echo from her memory. Tell my daughters what it is you have discovered… The priestess had said daughters, not daughter.
She must have known that Brighid was there. Not surprising, the Huntress thought sleepily. Etain seemed to have eyes and ears everywhere.
The Huntress slept, dreamlessly, for the rest of the night.
The enticing scent of roasting venison penetrated through the blanket of sleep, and Brighid finally opened her eyes, blinking against the bright light of midday. Cuchulainn tended a bubbling haunch of meat that he had spitted over the fire. His eyes lifted when she stirred. He watched her stretch and she saw relief soften his face.
“Good morning,” she said. “That smells wonderful.”
“Good afternoon,” he replied and used one of his throwing daggers to slice a piece of meat from the haunch and then skewer it. Smiling, he walked over to her, kissed her, and handed her the morsel. “Welcome back.”
She nibbled at the hot meat and quirked an eyebrow at him. “Are you trying to take over my job?”
“Hardly. If I were MacCallan’s Huntress the Clan would probably starve. It took me most of the morning and four arrows to bring down this one young, rather stupid deer.”