Divine by Choice (11 page)

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Authors: P.C. Cast

BOOK: Divine by Choice
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Suddenly, Epi surprised me by coming to an abrupt halt. Her ears were no longer cocked back listening to me, but were pointed to the right side of the path. ClanFintan had gone ahead a few paces before noticing that we had stopped, and he trotted back to where Epi stood, statue-like.

“What is she looking at?” he asked.

“Beats me.” I squinted, trying to peer through the swirling fog. “What's up, Epi?” I asked, but the mare made no response. All of her attention was focused on a spot to the right of the path.

“The birds are silent.” ClanFintan's voice was grim, and I heard the deadly hiss of his ever-present claymore being unsheathed. “Stay here.” His deep voice was harsh with the command.

“I don't want to stay here by myself!” My hormones must have been acting up (again), because I couldn't seem to stop myself from feeling very helpless. It was like I had suddenly turned into Doesn't-Have-a-Prom-Date-Barbie.

“The mare will protect you,” he said as he crossed before us and entered the edge of the forest. “And if I tell you to move, you move.” The fog swallowed him in sticky gray and I had an uncomfortable flashback to the skittering darkness that had haunted me at my father's tomb. I shivered and wanted to call after ClanFintan that Epi wasn't moving, let alone protecting, but I didn't want to mess with his concentration. Nor did I want to give whatever booger thing that might be lurking within hearing distance a clue that Epi had turned into Stone Horse.

“What the heck is out there?” I whispered to Epi, and I was encouraged when one of her ears swiveled quickly back at my words. “Booger monster?” I inquired in a conspirator's whisper.

She didn't answer.

“Ghost?” I asked.

She snorted, but it didn't sound like a yes snort. It sounded like a be-quiet-and-pay-attention snort.

I sighed and waited. It had probably only been minutes, but in the middle of the fog and the forest it felt like we had been abducted by The Little People. I started to worry about the intricate aspects of time and Rip Van Winkle and…ClanFintan's body materialized out of the fog. I breathed again.

“I found nothing threatening.” He gave Epi an exasperated look. “The mating must be affecting the mare's judgment. A short distance from the trail there is a small clearing. A stream runs through it, and there are two ancient trees—”

“A stream!” I interrupted, feeling amazingly thirsty. “Well, if nothing's going to eat us, I would really like a drink.” My hand moved of its own accord and rested briefly against my stomach. “Then we should probably be getting back.” I gave him an apologetic look. “I may be getting tired.”

To his credit he didn't say I told you so. He just shook his
head and turned back into the forest, motioning for us to follow him.

I clucked at Epi and squeezed lightly with my knees. For an instant I didn't think she would obey me—she felt oddly cold and metallic between my thighs. I ran my fingers through her gleaming mane and down her taut neck, murmuring quiet endearments to her. Then I felt a ripple run through her body and she turned from iron back into horseflesh. She took a tentative step forward, then another and finally followed ClanFintan's disappearing back away from the path and into the fog-shrouded forest.

Within just a few paces we suddenly ran out of trees, and entered a lovely little clearing, which was oddly free of fog, like it was an oasis of clarity in the middle of the soupy day. My attention was immediately drawn to two massive trees that stood silently in the middle of the cleared area. A ribbon of a stream ran between the giants and off into the forest away from the road. The water looked inviting and cool.

“Let's go get a drink,” I said and kneed Epi forward, still surprised by her unusual reticence. Hesitatingly she plodded to the stream and we joined ClanFintan, who was already kneeling and drinking from his cupped hand.

“Let me help you,” he said. He moved quickly to Epi's side and put his warm hands on either side of my waist, plucking me neatly off the mare's back and turning me to face him. Smiling, he held me close and let my body slide slowly against his until my feet met the ground. I giggled and kissed the lower part of his chest, where his leather vest was open to reveal his muscular torso (also, where my lips came when I was standing in front of him).

“Get your drink.” His voice was rich with emotion. “I look forward to getting you back to the temple. You know, a woman who is with child should take several breaks during
the day—breaks where she retires to her bedchamber to
rest
.” He caressed the last word, making his meaning clear.

“Will you rub my feet?” I murmured against his chest.

“Among other things.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

“It's a deal.” I squeezed him hard and planted another wet kiss in the middle of his chest before turning to the stream. As I knelt for my drink, I looked up over my shoulder at my mare. She was standing still, like a silver statue of herself. Her ears were cocked forward. All of her attention was centered on the two massive trees that stood a little way upstream.

“Epi!” I said sharply. Her ears flicked briefly in my direction. “Come get a drink.”

She didn't move except to turn her ears (and her attention) back to the trees. I glanced at ClanFintan, and he shrugged his shoulders, obviously as bemused by her behavior as I was. I mirrored his shrug and bent back to the stream.

The water was like liquid ice. Its sweetness reminded me of the refreshing public fountains of Rome. (Yes, I've led students overseas—and yes, they tried to chaperon me properly.) I drank deeply. When I'd had my fill, I settled back on my haunches, and found my gaze shifting to the trees that still held my mare's rapt attention.

They were enormous, obviously ancient. Branches didn't even begin until at least twenty feet up their impressive length. Something seemed odd about them for a moment, and then I realized what it was. They still had their leaves. I blinked and looked around, trying to focus into the fog-covered forest at the trees nearest to the edge of the clearing. Didn't I remember that the other trees had already lost their leaves? Unable to see through the mist, I shifted my attention back to the two giants before me. Pin oaks—with a start the name registered in my mind as I recognized them as indigenous flora of my home state, Oklahoma. Their leaves were shaped in the familiar sti
lettoed points that I'd grown up raking from our front yard. Only these were still attached to the branches and the vibrant green of new algae. My eyes slid from the heavy canopy of their entwining branches, down to their massive trunks, which were covered with a carpet of thick, lily pad-colored moss. I stood abruptly. The moss seemed to give off a muffled glow, like light shining through satin fabric. It cried to be touched.

And then I felt it—a tickle of emotion, as if a feather had brushed across my consciousness. I concentrated on the trees and the flutter of feeling came again. Realization hit me. It was a feeling akin to what I'd experienced in the presence of the marble column earlier that day. I remembered that Kai had said that because I was born under an earth sign, I was linked to the earth. I felt a smile of wonder spread across my face. Maybe I could “talk” to the trees.

With that thought, I began walking eagerly forward and was interrupted by a sharp squeal from Epi. Surprised, I stopped and turned, almost running into the mare, who was practically walking on my heels.

“Epi!” I stumbled back as she butted me with her head. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Her only answer was a muffled nicker as she rubbed her head against my chest.

“Jeesh, it's all right. I'm just going to go check out those old trees. Then we'll start back.” I glanced over her at my husband, who was watching us with an amused look.

“She's making me crazy,” I said. “I'll be glad when tomorrow night's ceremony is over and she's herself again.”

“She does seem rather…” He paused, and I was sure he was thinking of and discarding words like
paranoid, hysterical
and
clingy.
He settled on
emotional,
waggling his eyebrows so that we both knew what he really meant.

I winked and smiled my agreement. Rubbing the mare's
head, I whispered endearments meant to reassure her. “Hey, sweet girl. It's okay. Everything's fine.” She seemed to relax. “I want to get closer to the trees,” I confided into her ear. “Kai said I could hear earth stuff, and I'd like to test his theory.”

With one last pat I turned and headed purposefully toward the trees. I could hear Epi take a few steps to follow me, but soon she stopped. I glanced back at her to see that she was standing perfectly still. As I watched, a little ripple passed through her body.

“Everything's fine!” I said, waving gaily at the frozen mare, ignoring a twinge of concern at her bizarre behavior. Epi and I were probably sharing hormone surges. No wonder she and I were so skittish. When I turned back to the trees, all thoughts of Epi left my mind.

I was standing within touching distance of the massive oaks, and this close I could clearly feel something emanating from them. I cocked my head, listening intently.

“Rhea?” ClanFintan called questioningly.

“Shh!” I yelled without turning my head, holding up my hand to silence him.

I took another step forward. The ground sucked wetly at my riding boots, and I realized that I was almost standing in the little stream that ran between the two trees. It had narrowed here, so that it was probably only a couple of feet wide, and it tumbled musically over rounded pebbles. Stepping carefully, I straddled the stream and raised my arms, so that one of my hands could rest on the side of each tree.

As I touched the moss-covered bark, a painful jolt traveled the length of my body, like I had just touched a live wire. A blade of fear sliced through me, and I tried to pull my hands away, but they were stuck against the trees as surely as if they had been nailed to the bark. My knees began to sag, and I realized that I was falling forward, and (if the trees loosened
their grip) I would tumble headfirst into the little stream. Suddenly it felt like time slowed down to pass frame by frame before my eyes. My head bent, and I saw my rippled reflection in the water. Then my reflection fractured, and I could actually see through the water. I blinked slowly, trying to clear my eyes, and abruptly my vision refocused. I could see into the stream and beyond it to the world on the other side, a world where a movement in the sky caught my attention. A shocked cry escaped my lips as I recognized the narrow metallic cylinder that passed across the distant blue horizon. An airplane. Understanding struck me. Frantically I tried once again to pull my hands from the trees, but instead of freeing me the bark of the trees had become semi-permeable, and my hands were sucked into them, followed by my wrists, elbows…and as I felt my body fall forward and dissolve into that mirror world I saw an all too familiar skittery darkness, inky with its liquid aura of evil, pulse around me—pressing, searching, attempting to engulf me…I heard the horrified shout that was wrenched from my husband echoed by Epi's piercing neigh of panic.

I opened my mouth to scream, but unconsciousness swallowed me.

PART II
1

M
y stomach revolted, and I felt myself being rolled onto my side while painful spasms ripped through my body. I heard something odd and whimpering, and I realized it was the sound of my own sobs.

“It's okay, Shannon,” a deep, familiar voice spoke soothingly. “You're safe.”

I tried to open my eyes, but my vision was so blurred that I snapped them shut again, afraid the spinning would cause me to be even sicker. Slowly, my heaving subsided and I lay still, gulping breaths of the cool, moist air. I realized that the grass beneath my cheek was damp, and I tried once more to open my eyes and focus my vision. Between slit lids I peered blearily around me. I could see the outline of green and gray, but before it could come fully into focus a dark, shadowy shape slid across my field of vision. As the shape caught my attention, a feeling hit me—a feeling that I recognized. It wasn't my hormones or my imagination. Evil
had
been stalking me. It seemed to hover closer, swallowing the shades of green and soft gray and leaving jagged shards of mixed-up color like an exit wound. I tried to open my mouth to scream.

“Shannon! Take it easy,” that same voice soothed. “Everything's okay!”

His words seemed to have a negating effect on the colorless shadow. The dark spot dissipated, while shimmering gray ran into the green of forest leaves, tunneling my fading vision. After that I knew no more.

 

Consciousness flitted across my closed eyelids like lightning that illuminates the night sky but won't leave the clouds. I lay very still, afraid to move, afraid to do anything that would cause my battered body more pain or call back the darkness I had glimpsed. I breathed slowly, trying to still the frantic, hummingbird beating of my heart.

I realized that I was no longer lying on the damp grass. I felt the softness of a well-made mattress beneath me and the thickness of a down comforter that had been pulled up to my neck. I shivered, suddenly feeling a chill that went deep within my body.

There was a rustling of feet moving toward me, then a hand rested briefly on my forehead. I could feel the calluses against my cold skin.

“Don't open your eyes yet. It's easier for your body to re-accustom itself if you keep them closed and rest.”

Again, that elusive familiarity in his voice.

“Drink this—it will help.” I kept my eyes screwed shut while a strong hand helped raise me into a half-sitting position so that I could sip a warm, sweet mixture. I drank slowly, willing my stomach to stay still. When the mug was empty, I fell back against the pillow, exhausted by the small effort.

“Rest,” the voice said. “Everything's okay. You're home.”

As enshrouding sleep covered me, I realized that it was ClanFintan who was speaking, only his voice sounded odd. I
struggled to stay conscious and understand what it was that was different about him, but my eyes were too heavy. Sleep won the battle.

 

Coffee…the smell tickled my senses, bringing to mind sleepy Saturday mornings when I used to brew a fresh pot of dark breakfast beans and lace it (liberally) with Irish Cream before retiring back to bed with my steaming mug and a good book.

But Partholon didn't have any coffee.

Memory rushed back with my swift intake of breath. My eyes opened and my vision swam. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, disturbed by the weakness of my muscles as they sluggishly obeyed my orders.

The only light in the cabin came from a low-burning fire within a hearth built in the wall directly across from my bed. I looked around, being careful not to make any sudden movements with my head—scared I would throw my body into another revolt. It appeared to be one large room, which served as a bedroom with a kind of den area partitioned off in front of the fire by two cozily situated rocking chairs which had little whatnot tables standing next to each one. Each table held a modern version of an old-time kerosene lamp, though neither was lit. There was a book opened, facedown, beside the nearest rocker. I could see that there was some kind of loft above my head and another room to my far left divided from the rest of the cabin by a wall. That's where the coffee smell was wafting from—must be the kitchen. The shuffle of tired feet echoed from that vicinity, seeming to come closer. I braced myself.

And ClanFintan walked around the wall.

I must have made some kind of wounded sound, because he jerked, almost spilling the liquid in his mug. Then his handsome face broke into a smile that was ghostly in its familiarity.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked.

I understood now why his voice had seemed so familiar yet at the same time so odd. It was his voice—ClanFintan's voice. But it was devoid of the power of a centaur's lungs and the musical lilt of a Partholonian accent.

“Where am I?” My gravelly voice was flat and emotionless.

Still smiling, he set his mug down on the small table and approached my bed. I couldn't help shrinking back into the pillows. He must have noticed, because he stopped several paces away from the edge of the bed.

“You're home, Shannon.”

“And just where the hell do you think
home
is?”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oklahoma,” he said, and his matter-of-fact voice severed my heart from my body.

I could feel the blood draining from my face, and the room abruptly began to spin.

“No!” I whispered, and slammed my eyes closed, willing the room to be still. After taking several deep breaths, I reopened them to see he had moved toward me. “Don't come any closer!” I snapped.

He stopped, holding his hands out in a peaceful offering. “I won't hurt you, Shannon.”

“How the hell do you know my name?” My voice shook with the effort to keep my stomach and the room still.

“That's a complex story…” He hesitated.

“I want an answer.” I was glad my voice no longer wavered.

He hesitated.

“How do you know my name,” I repeated slowly and distinctly, turning the question into a declarative sentence as only an English teacher can do.

“Rhiannon told me,” he said with obvious reluctance.

“Rhiannon!” The name came out as a curse. My eyes
flitted around the room, expecting her to leap from one of the shadowy corners.

“No! Not here,” he said consolingly. “She's back in Partholon where she belongs.” He sounded pleased with himself.

I locked my eyes with his and spoke through gritted teeth, “She does
not
belong in Partholon. It is
my
home. He is
my
husband. They are
my
people.”

“But—” he looked confused “—I thought everything would be okay if I just re-exchanged the two of you…” His voice trailed off.

Purposefully I sat up straighter and swung my legs over the side of the bed. Looking down at myself, I saw that I was wearing nothing but a man's pajama top, and I scowled up at him.

“Where are my friggin clothes?”

“I—” he stuttered “—they're—”

“Oh, never mind. Just give me some pants and my boots and take me wherever it is you made the switch, and switch us back.”

He opened his mouth to answer me, and the ring of a phone interrupted him. Its sound was a bizarre jar to my senses, which had accustomed themselves to Partholon's technology-free lifestyle. It rang again, and he regained movement in his legs, hurrying over to a portable phone that rested in a row of shelves built into the wall beside the fireplace.

“Hello,” he said, keeping his eyes on me. Then he blinked and stepped back as if he had received a blast of fire from the receiver.

“Rhiannon!” The name was like a sheet of darkness covering the room.

I felt a chill rush down my spine, and I clenched my teeth together to keep them from chattering.

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