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“What of the centaurs who are loyal to Bregon?”

“There will be a few, but much less than you believe.” Finally she smiled. “You see, my warrior husband, no centaur female would ever refuse allegiance to the first-born daughter of their High Shaman.”

He returned her smile. “So those who side against you will be choosing very long, lonely lives.”

“Exactly,” she said.

He linked his arm through hers and they made their way slowly back to the cave, leaning a little on each other and occasionally stumbling.

“That does make me feel more hopeful about this. Perhaps the transition to your leadership won’t be as traumatic an event as we anticipated.”

“Perhaps,” she said thoughtfully. “But there is still my brother to deal with. He’s made it clear that he will not easily give up the position he has usurped.”

“Then we will simply have to show him that he has no choice.” Cuchulainn’s voice was flint.

“Cu, when the basin showed me Bregon drinking of the Chalice I saw something else. When he left the grove ghostly wisps of his spirit stayed behind in the Otherworld. His soul has been shattered, Cu, terribly.” She touched her husband’s face. “Promise me that you will remember that he is not whole when you confront him.”

“I promise,” he said, and kissed her hand. “But you need to understand that no matter what pity I might feel for him, I will not allow him to harm you.”

“I can’t believe that he would really hurt me, Cu. I still remember the sweet child he used to be who wanted nothing so much as his mother’s love and approval.”

“He’s not a child anymore. But don’t worry, my beautiful Huntress, I will always remember that he is your brother.” He kissed her hand again and then began feeling around the dark mouth of the cave for the fire starting implements he’d left ready at hand. “I think if we boil some of the dried meat left in our packs it would make a decent broth to soak that stale bread.”

“I’ll knock the mold off the rest of the cheese,” Brighid said.

“Thank Epona for my mother’s love of wine, at least we have plenty of that.”

They built a quick fire and pieced together a decent meal, talking quietly about their experiences in the Otherworld, most especially about the awe they both felt when in the presence of the Great Goddess. Brighid watched Cuchulainn speak, thinking again how blessed she was to have such a valiant and loyal mate. Then, with a little start, she realized that she now had the power to shapeshift and join fully with him. It was that thought that had her lips curving into a smile even as she lost the battle with her exhausted body and she, and then Cuchulainn, fell into a deep, healing sleep.

When Brighid opened her eyes the cave was just beginning to be illuminated in the dreamy light that was the harbinger of newborn dawn. She stretched, careful not to wake the warrior who slept so peacefully beside her, and then stood, testing her body to see if it was still as weak and unreliable as it had been the previous night. No, she thought happily, I feel wonderful!

She left the cave and made her way quickly to the waterfall. Taking off her vest she stood naked under the cold spray. Lifting her face to the crystal current she opened her mouth and drank of the water. By the Goddess, she felt so incredibly alive! Her skin tingled under the water’s caress, but it was more than that-Brighid felt an awareness in the world around her that she had never before experienced. It was as if until that morning the trees and rocks and the very earth herself had been slumbering-and now everything had awakened with her.

Laughing softly, she stepped from under the waterfall and gazed out at the Centaur Plains. There wasn’t light enough yet to see definitions in the waving grass and gently rolling land. It was still shrouded in darkness, but the sky had begun to blush in anticipation of the sun and her eyes drank in the hazy morning view.

“Home…” She breathed the word aloud and the spirit within her body leaped at the admission. “I’m going home.”

Brighid ignored the vest she had left on the rock beside the waterfall. She felt powerful and beautiful and filled with the passion of purpose. When she reentered the cave Cu stirred, rolled over, and then slowly opened his eyes. Seeing her silhouetted against the predawn sky he smiled and raised himself up on his elbow.

“Standing there all naked and wet you look like you could be one of the fairy folk who slipped away from the Otherworld,” he said, his voice still rough with sleep.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Brighid said, throwing her arms over her head as if she could embrace the day. “This morning I feel so different-like I’m not completely of this world.”

Cuchulainn sat all the way up. “You are different, my beautiful Huntress, you are a High Shaman.”

Brighid met his eyes, looking carefully to see if there was any reticence or withdrawal from her lurking there. Then she smiled, because she saw only Cuchulainn and the love he felt for her reflected in his gaze.

“Do you think people will stop calling me Huntress now?”

“Would that make you sad?” he asked.

“Yes…yes it would. At the core of my being I will always be a Huntress.”

“Then-” he swept his arm in a courtly flourish “-to me you will always be my beautiful Huntress.”

“I hope so, Cu. I really hope so,” she said. When he started to get up she shook her head. “No. Don’t come to me yet. I want you to stay there.”

He tilted his head and studied her. “What are you concocting?”

“I’m-I’m not sure. Just give me a moment.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Huntress,” he said, leaning back on his elbow and taking a pull from their wineskin.

Brighid bowed her head and closed her eyes. Then she reached out with the new senses that had blossomed into life in the grove of the Goddess. Her mind swirled…

Everything was, indeed, ensouled…interrelated…The spirit realm and the physical world were nothing more than points on a flexible branch that could be bent, curved, and rewoven so that the end points of reality and unreality could meet and become the same. Centaur…man…woman…hawk…tree…grassland…they were all spirit-filled and touched by the Goddess. It was a simple thing, really, this shifting of shape and molding of matter…

Brighid raised her head and smiled beatifically at her husband. “I’ll need you to be very quiet. I know I can do this, but I must have your word that you will not fragment my attention.”

Cuchulainn’s expression became tense and serious. “Brighid, you just returned last night. I think you should wait before you attempt-”

Her look stilled his words.

“Do you believe in me?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you desire me?”

“Of course,” he said. Then he nodded. “I understand, my love. You have my oath that I will not fragment your attention.”

She gave him a quick smile of gratitude before turning her attention inward. Help me, Epona, guide me, aid me. I’ve barely tasted my new powers-I feel them, but I have no training…I don’t know… She drew a deep breath. I cannot do this without Your loving touch.

Suddenly words flooded her mind. The centaur bowed her head and gave words to the magic that was surging through her soul.

I am the wind that blows across the sea;

I am the wave of the deep;

I am the roar of the ocean;

I am the stag of the forest;

I am a hawk on the cliff;

I am a ray of sunlight

and the greenest of plants.

As the tempo and volume of Brighid’s voice increased, she began to lift her arms, holding her palms out, fingers spread wide. She did not shout, but the power within the words was so great that it raised the hair on the back of Cuchulainn’s neck.

Then a shimmering covered her body. She glowed. The brilliance that danced along her skin seemed to be moving, but it wasn’t the light that was moving. It was the Huntress’s skin, rippling and liquefying. Brighid closed her eyes and lifted her arms and head together in time with her words.