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The forest gave way before Cuchulainn with increasing ease. Soon he no longer needed to use his sword, and they followed the hawk easily. What had at first appeared to be impenetrable had changed completely. It was still lush with ancient trees, but the forest bed was clear and flat and carpeted with a loam of fragrant leaves. Traveling through it was a marvel, not a hardship.

Then Cuchulainn abruptly stopped walking. “By the Goddess…” he breathed. “Look at that.”

Brighid’s eyes followed the warrior’s gaze and she gasped. Well to the left of where they stood the forest floor opened suddenly like the maw of a great, dark beast. Each of the three paths that had beckoned her with her mother’s seductive music emptied into that gaping hole. She knew she wouldn’t even have seen it. The music would have blinded her and she would have fallen into the pit. The Goddess only knew where it emptied, but it certainly didn’t lead to Epona’s Chalice. Had Brighid chosen one of the three easy paths her quest would have ended there.

Sometimes choosing what seems impossible is the only way to find your path to the future.

The hawk’s voice sounded in her mind again as its wings ruffled the air over their heads, leading them farther away from the pit. They followed the bird.

They hadn’t walked much longer when the forest gave way to a grassy clearing, bright with the silver light of the moon. In the center there was a stone basin, which was covered with carvings of ancient knots and runes, all entwining to form the graceful shape of the Goddess with her arms raised over her head, so that it appeared that Epona’s hands were touching the water as it bubbled up from the spring. On the edge of the basin sat a gleaming golden Chalice with Epona’s triple knot of mares decorating it. The hawk circled the clearing three times before perching on the single oak that shaded the bubbling well.

“It’s Epona’s Chalice,” Brighid said in a voice hushed and reverent.

“Go, my love. Take what is rightfully yours.”

“Only if you come with me,” she told him.

He kissed her gently. “Where you go, so there will I be, too.”

Together they walked to the basin, but as they drew near it Cuchulainn instinctively slowed his steps and let her draw ahead of him. He would watch over and protect her, but he could not share in what she was about to experience.

Slowly Brighid went to the basin. But instead of instantly filling the Chalice and drinking of it, she focused her attention on the water. It bubbled up from the center of the basin, sparkling like liquid light. Brighid dipped her hand into the water. It felt alive. When she lifted her hand the water that dripped from it looked like beads of moonlight falling from her fingers. Then she stared down into the basin and its surface quivered, as if a gust of stormy wind had just blown over it. Brighid’s eyes widened. Within the water she saw her brother’s reflection take form. He, too, was standing before the basin. As she watched he peered down into the depths of the water, just as she had been doing. But he did not touch the water, and his face did not register the awe that had filled Brighid upon entering Epona’s grove.

“Enemy-ally…I have no time for this!” Bregon’s voice echoed eerily from the reflected past. “What is most important is that I have been well trained and that I will use my power for my herd.” Without another word his hands closed possessively around the Chalice of Epona. He plunged it into the water and then lifted it to his lips and drank greedily. When he was finished drinking he tossed the Chalice into the basin, threw his head back and shouted victoriously.

Though her gut felt tight and sick, Brighid kept watching as her brother turned away from the basin and disappeared into the forest. Then her breath caught in her throat. When she looked back at the basin the faint outline of her brother’s spirit still stood there. In the middle of the grove another silhouette of a centaur formed, then near the tree line the glistening outline of another and another appeared. Goddess! They’re all Bregon! In each of the apparitions his body was almost completely transparent and she could only vaguely make out his form by focusing on the faint glimmer of silver that outlined his body. All of her brother’s spirits were silently staring at the most substantial of all of them, the centaur who stood beside the basin. His head was bowed and while the others looked on he retrieved the discarded Chalice and set it reverently back in its place. He looked up from the reflection and directly into his sister’s eyes. His ghostly face was awash in tears.

Then he and the others disappeared.

Brighid knew what she had just witnessed had been her brother drinking of Epona’s Chalice. He was a High Shaman now-she was sure of it. As sure as she was that what else she had seen in the basin’s reflection of the past had been the shattering of Bregon’s soul. A sudden rush of sadness overshadowed the worry she felt for her herd. Bregon had left so much of his soul behind! Cu had only experienced a single loss of spirit, and it had caused him to be a sad shell of himself, so bereft and hopeless that he thought of ending his life. She couldn’t imagine what must be happening to her brother. How could he survive so fragmented?

Brighid sighed and let her fingers trail through the living water again. It was all so wrong. How could the poison of one woman be allowed to live on after her death to destroy the next generation?

“You’re late, sister.”

With a gasp, Brighid spun around. Her brother stood before her. Not the sad, broken fragments of himself she had just been lamenting. The centaur who faced her radiated power-a power she had not yet tasted.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Brighid drew around her the mantle of cool aloofness she had worn for most of her life. Her smile was polite and disinterested.

“Hello, Bregon.”

His eyes narrowed to slits. “Drop your pretenses and leave, sister. There is no reason for you to drink of Epona’s Chalice. You chose another path for your life. Our mother was satisfied with your choice. I am satisfied with your choice. Go back to the forests of the people you love so well. Our herd does not need you.”

“Our mother was a sad, twisted centaur whose lust for power caused her to never be satisfied with anything, Bregon. The day you accept that is the day you will be free of her ghost.”

“So you know she’s dead.”

“Yes, I know. Niam told me.”

Bregon’s lips twisted in a sneer at the mention of their sister.

“She died bringing me the news,” Brighid continued.

The haughty expression slid from Bregon’s face. “Niam? She’s dead?”

“Our sister ran herself to her death. Ending the hatred that our mother bred meant more to her than her own life.”

Bregon wiped his hands over his face and when he looked up at her Brighid got her first true glimpse of the iron-souled stranger her brother had become.

“Niam was always foolish and weak. She lived that way. She died that way.”

“It is not foolish or weak to give your life for another,” Brighid said.

“It is if your oh-so-valiant effort is for naught,” he sneered.

“Look around you, Bregon. It is because of Niam that I am here.” Her voice intensified as she hurled the words at him. “It is because of Niam that I will drink of Epona’s Chalice. And it is because of Niam that I will return to the Centaur Plains and take the position my birthright assures me-High Shaman of the Dhianna Herd.”

“No, sister. I don’t think you will.” As Bregon spoke his eyes turned sly, and he moved forward toward Epona’s Chalice.

With the grace of a Master Warrior, Cuchulainn stepped smoothly between Brighid’s brother and the Chalice.

“I would think again, Bregon,” Cuchulainn said, his voice deceptively nonchalant.

Bregon pulled up in surprise. Then his expression changed to amusement. “A man?”