It was a sign that his task there was fulfilled, that it was time to leave this place. So, he’d left the cave and returned home to Cailleach, considering on that journey what he would do with his newfound treasure. He remembered the image of the Phoenix, and the name the bird had uttered with absolute conviction—Cailleach. It was obvious who the stone was intended for, but what he had to decide on was how he would gift it. Not only must it be something befitting her beauty, but something that would also protect her.
Now, as he stared at the recipient of his gift, he pulled her into his arms again, trying to ease her anxiety. “This is not to be feared, Cailleach. It is more than a token of my love for you. It is a special gift for a special woman, and if you hold it for a moment, you should feel something.”
She hesitated. “I’m not sure if I should touch it, Tritus. It has an energy source unlike anything I’ve ever felt before—powerful and foreign.”
Tritus couldn’t deny it, he’d felt it himself. Taking her hand, he looked into her eyes. “I would never hurt you, Cailleach. This was made for you and you alone. Trust me. Trust the stone.”
Cailleach swallowed before finally breaking his gaze and reaching out to grasp the pendant. It immediately pulsed in her hand, flickering with amber warmth. She grimaced but continued to hold onto it. The stone began to emit a light hum.
Eyes wide, Cailleach breathed, “It’s unlike anything I’ve ever come across, but you’re right, it means no harm. I can feel its desire to protect me.” Her eyes flew to his, wonder in their depths. “But I can also feel you inside it, as if you’re part of it.”
Tritus smiled, trusting that fate had dealt its hand. As though on cue, the pendant’s hum faded, and the light with it.
“See,” Tritus whispered softly. “It likes you. It knows you.”
Her brow wrinkled as she peered at it in her hand. “It did feel as if I was being tested.”
Tritus nodded, for he’d had the same thought, but before he could question her further, she twisted in his embrace, flung her arms around his neck and gave him a passionate open-mouthed kiss. Pulling back, she cupped his face in her hands and said softly, “Thank you. I love it! Not just because it’s beautiful, but because it’s part of my home, and part of you!”
His chest flooded with pleasure. “I am pleased. Now you will have something of me while I am away.”
Her face fell at the reminder. “It is no consolation, Tritus. I will miss you greatly.”
He leaned his forehead against hers, drawing her close to his heart. “I know, my love, and I will miss you too. But I must see my family. I promise I will be as quick as I can—back before the next moon.”
18
Talorgan
3rd Century BC, Ancient Scotland, Second Sentence
Patting the earth around the last seedling, Talorgan said a prayer to Cailleach and Brighid that they keep the new seedlings safe over the months to come.
It was his last day on the mountain. The new moon would be up tomorrow, and he could finally return home, his second sentence completed.
Talorgan looked at the seedlings he’d planted in the last twenty-eight days and felt a huge measure of satisfaction. They looked healthy. He had been surprised to find that he enjoyed planting them. What he also hadn’t counted on was the feeling of pride that arose as he gazed upon his work, knowing that he’d had a hand in regenerating the land.
But what he wasn’t happy about was the fact that his time this year had come to an end. He had been waiting for Cailleach to visit him as she had during his first sentence. She had come in the last few days before the new moon to appraise the work he had done. But this time she hadn’t—even though it was the night before his departure.
Talorgan looked up at the sun. It was noon. He knew where she would be.
Without hesitating, he turned in the direction of the tarn. When he was within a hundred meters of the edge of the clearing, he engaged his shield and felt the shimmer of his power settle around his body. The shield not only made him invisible but silenced any noise his movements might generate.
He carefully maneuvered closer to the edge of the clearing, to his usual hiding spot behind a cluster of bushes. Crouching low, he settled into position before peering around the edge of the bush. The area was vacant, but Talorgan immediately spied Cailleach’s white gown on the grass beside the large stone. Glancing at the pool, he noticed the slight ripple across its surface.
At that moment, Cailleach erupted from the pool, the water sluicing off her exquisite figure in a cascade of sound. His breath caught as his gaze traveled over her face, down to her naked breasts, lush and ripe. He couldn’t help adjusting his groin, his eyes savoring a slow crawl down her body.
He paused at the sight of her belly. It looked slightly rounder than usual. A frown etched his brow briefly before it was gone; his greed to devour her with his eyes pushing the thought from his mind.
Cailleach lifted her arms above her head, peeling her long blond hair off her back to tug it over her shoulder and wring the water from its silken length. With bated breath, he greedily watched as she walked toward the large stone at the other side of the tarn. Her petite body swayed with a feminine power that held him enthralled, his gaze remaining fixated on the smooth, rounded curves of her rear.
She reached the large expanse of the smooth stone, laying one hand on its surface. Talorgan saw the smile bloom across her face just before she lowered her other hand to protectively cradle her lower belly.
He froze. He knew that motion. He’d seen it before.
She was with child!
A sluice of black emotions bubbled to the surface in a roaring inferno of silent rage. He couldn’t control them—anger, desire, hate, lust, and sadness. They all fought for supremacy, screaming soundlessly in his mind, biting, twisting, and colliding in a maelstrom of violence that craved release. He fought the emotions, pushing them deep down into the darkest pit of his mind. He would not risk exposing his location, nor his crime in spying on her these last twenty-eight days. For Talorgan knew without a doubt that she would incinerate him on the spot; his power would be no match for hers—not yet, not until it reached maturity.
Soon.
So, even though Talorgan’s eyes remained open, fixated on the scene before him, he did not see Cailleach lie down to sunbathe on the carlin stone. He did not see her get up sometime later to slip that billowy, white dress over her head. Nor did he see her leave the clearing on a patter of light, happy feet.
And finally, when dusk began to fall across the whispered silence of the clearing, when the chaos in his mind finally settled, there was only one burning question left. Who was the father?
19
Brydie
There came a loud pounding.
“Five minutes!” the voice growled through the door.
The fog of sleep instantly lifted; my body clock now used to the rhythm of the past six weeks. I rolled over and turned on the lamp, pushing myself into a sitting position. The pendant swayed against my chest, and I couldn’t help reaching up to clasp the stone in my hand. It gently hummed against my palm. By now, it was as familiar as my own heartbeat.