Elphame's Choice (10 page)

“Did you say something, Elphame?” Brighid asked. Her
hooves thudded with a muffled clop against the dirt-covered marble and her silver-blond coat seemed ethereal in the darkness as she entered the courtyard. “By the Goddess it’s black in here! No wonder it was taking you so long.”

“I’ll be glad when the wall sconces are repaired and the torches are lit,” Brenna said nervously. She was just a slight, dark silhouette as she stayed close to the Huntress’s side.

Elphame smiled and forced her voice to sound normal. “You’re right, I was having a terrible time finding it, but I have it now, so we can finally go get that hot meal we’ve been tasting in our minds.” With one final glance over her shoulder at the fog-shrouded fountain, Elphame hurried from the darkening castle.

THE FADING LIGHT
softened the edges of the newly cleared road through the forest and the cool evening breeze filled the air with the sweet scent of flowering trees so that to Elphame it seemed like they were walking through a watercolor painting. Almost against her will she felt herself begin to relax. Out in the open with Brenna and Brighid talking amiably about the events of the day it was hard to believe that just moments before she had been conversing with the spirit of the Clan Chieftain who had been dead for more than a century. It wasn’t that Elphame doubted what she had witnessed, it was just that for years nothing even slightly magical had happened to her. Until that morning the spirit realm had been dead to her. Now the spirits of the stones as well as the dead were talking to her—all in the span of one day. She surmised that her mind was probably in shock, which was why she was still able to walk and smile and chat with her compan
ions, instead of standing frozen in one spot and drooling. She stifled a semihysterical giggle. Maybe the drooling was a slight exaggeration. She heard her name and nodded absently at a comment Brenna had just made.

“Wonderful! See, Brighid, I told you it was a good idea.”

“Are you quite certain, Elphame?”

The tone of the Huntress’s question broke through El’s inner dialogue and she surfaced into the present to see Brenna’s lopsided smile beaming at her.

“Of course she is. You already said that there would be no bathing chamber large enough to hold you and, look, the stream must pool just over there. It certainly should be big enough.”

Elphame’s eyes followed Brenna’s pointing finger. The land was dipping steadily downward, creating a rocky, tiered area amidst the pine trees in the surrounding forest. And, sure enough, the stream that ran alongside the road, and even crisscrossed through it every so often, fell from one level to the next in a tumble of three waterfalls. As they peered through the forest foliage they could just glimpse a pool had been formed at the bottom level before the water continued to meander over the other side and disappear into the forest. Elphame looked at the Healer, trying not to show her shock. Brenna wanted them to bathe out there? In the pool? The three of them? She had never bathed around strangers—she didn’t even allow the temple servants to be in the bathing chamber with her. Could she really bare herself in front of the two of them?

It sounded like something companions would do. It sounded normal.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Elphame said resolutely.

Before she could change her mind she stepped off the path, climbing down and around boulders and angling for the pool of water. Behind her she could hear Brenna and Brighid
noisily following. She could do this, she told herself. If she wanted to be treated normally, she was going to have to act normal. And “normal” females bathed in front of each other—she’d been aware of that from the time she could toddle into her mother’s constantly busy bathing chamber. Visiting priestesses as well as friends and acquaintances had all, at one time or another, joined Epona’s Beloved in the luxury of her mineral springs bathing pools. Elphame’s modesty was the exception, not the rule in Partholon.

She stopped at the edge of the pool, waiting for Brenna and Brighid to join her. It was larger than it had appeared from the road. The three waterfalls made a merry sound as they cascaded like liquid crystals over the water-smoothed rocks.

“It looks deep enough,” Brenna said.

“It looks cold,” Brighid said.

“Good,” the Healer said, already unclasping the simple brooch that held her high-necked dress together over her right shoulder. “Then it should be refreshing after a long, sweaty day of work.” She opened her bodice and shrugged out of her top while she began untying the knots that held her kilt-like skirt wrapped securely around her slender waist.

Elphame couldn’t look away from Brenna’s exposed body. The left side of her was covered with smooth, flawless skin, but as on her face, the right side of her body told a different story. The scars that disfigured that side of her face did not end at her neck. They traveled down, covering her shoulder and the top of her breast, so that in the evening light she looked like a beautiful, delicate wax statue that had been partially melted.

Brenna raised her eyes and looked from the goddess to the Huntress, who were both gazing silently at her. And sudden realization crossed her face. She had actually forgotten for an instant about her horrible scars. She glanced hastily away again,
pretending to have trouble untying one of the linen knots, hoping that in the dim light they could not see her tears.

“I’m sorry,” Elphame said quietly. “I did not mean to stare.”

Still not looking up, Brenna’s voice sounded muffled. “There is no need for you to be sorry. Everyone stares.”

Elphame took a deep breath and unclasped the brooches that held her bodice together. Then she quickly unwound the length of material from around her waist, letting it fall to the forest floor. She bent and pulled off the small triangle of material that covered her most private parts. Totally naked, she stood very still so that Brenna and Brighid could study every inch of her exposed body.

“I understand exactly what you mean. That is why I apologized.”

Brenna looked up, and her eyes shot wide in surprise. And for the first time in her life, the Healer couldn’t help staring at another human being. Only Elphame’s body wasn’t human. It was much more. The upper half of her body was shaped with a feminine beauty that any woman would envy. Her waist curved in to swell back out into powerful hips that tapered down to what appeared to be the muscular forelegs of a well-built horse. From her waist down she was covered with a sleek auburn coat that glistened with health and youth. Her most private parts were shaped, as far as Brenna could tell, exactly like her own and they were covered with a thatch of dark auburn hair that swirled and curled into a triangle.

A violent stomping sound erupting from behind them made both women jump. At the edge of the pool Brighid was bashing one of her front hooves over and over again against a cluster of rocks that were beginning to froth and bubble.

“Soapstone,” she explained. “I thought I would make myself useful while the two of you finished inspecting one another.” She bent and sifted some of the soapy granules through her
fingers. “I think it’s crushed up enough now.” Brighid unlaced her vest and laid it carefully on a dry rock.

“Why aren’t you staring at us?” Brenna asked the Huntress.

“I was raised to believe that all humans are odd, misshapen creatures, so the two of you seem perfectly normal to me,” she said with a sarcastic grin and surged into the water.

“I realize she didn’t mean it as a compliment, but her attitude is a nice change,” Brenna mused, gazing after the Huntress.

“Yes, it certainly is,” Elphame agreed. Then she smiled at her new friend. “Are we finished inspecting one another?”

“I think so, although I would really like to touch your fur—if you wouldn’t mind,” she added hastily.

Elphame lifted a leg and held it out to the Healer. “I don’t mind, but I don’t think of it as fur, I think of it more as a coat.”

Brenna ran one finger from Elphame’s knee down her hock, hesitated, and then touched the shining black surface of her hoof.

“Oh, my…” she breathed. “It’s as soft as it looks.” Then the Healer part of her mind took over. “Does your skin cut easily, or is it tougher than a human leg? And how do you react to plants that usually cause skin to inflame, like poison ivy or oak?”

“If your brother comes looking for us and finds the three of us naked, I know at least two of us who will be very uncomfortable with that,” Brighid called from the center of the pool.

Brenna blanched and looked hastily over her shoulder in the direction of the road. “You’re right. That would be awful.”

“We’re coming,” Elphame said. “You can quiz me later.”

“I will.” Brenna smiled.

“Bring some of that soapstone with you,” Brighid shouted.

Quickly Brenna knelt and scooped handfuls of the rough, soapy stone. Taking a deep breath, she plunged into the pool. Slipping on the smooth, slick rocks near the bank she fell flat
on her behind, gasping at the shock of the cold water that suddenly covered her body.

Elphame grinned at her, hesitantly flicking the water with the tip of one hoof. “Still think it’s a good idea?”

Teeth already chattering, Brenna nodded enthusiastically. “It’s not so bad once you get used to it.”

“Don’t worry about it. That coat of fur will protect you,” Brighid said. Then her lips quirked and she added, “At least part of you.”

“That’s not particularly reassuring,” Elphame said. But she couldn’t stop smiling. They were bantering with one another easily as if they had known each other for years. She had friends. “Don’t worry, I’m coming….”

But just before she stepped into the pool she paused. She felt something uncomfortable along the back of her neck. It was a feeling with which Elphame was much too familiar—the crawling-up-her-spine, breathless sense of being watched. Using the pretense of moving her pile of clothing, her sharp eyes scanned the surrounding forest. She didn’t notice anything unusual. The trees were just trees, and they didn’t appear to harbor anything more malevolent than chirping birds.

Still she felt the tingle at the back of her neck.

Her imagination was probably working overtime, which was understandable considering all that she had experienced that day.

“You know the longer you stand there, the colder the water is going to feel,” Brenna said.

Elphame turned back to the pool. The Healer’s lips were already blue, but she was happily rubbing the soapstone into her hair.

Ignoring her hyped-up senses, Elphame grabbed a handful of soapstone and then, squealing, plunged into the frigid pool.

When she took off her clothing Lochlan knew he should have turned away, or at the very least averted his eyes. It would
have been the honorable thing to do. But he could not. She mesmerized him. He drank in her nakedness. Sometimes in his dreams he had flashes of touching her skin, or kissing her lips, but those dreams were always insubstantial and brief, leaving him throbbing for more. Now here she was—so very close to him. His dark wings quivered, reflecting his mounting desire. He felt hot and cold at the same time. Watching her was sweet agony.

When she turned from the pool and studied the forest with searching eyes, his body became very still, blending with the shadows of the trees, but his heartbeat pounded in his temples. She felt him. Her mind didn’t know him yet, but her soul already recognized that he was there.

Then she waded into the water and her laughter filled the forest. She never laughed in his dreams. He had only seen her smile occasionally, usually at her warrior brother or one of her parents. Now the unexpected sound of her laughter was a gift that cooled his lust, but did nothing to lessen his desire for her. He felt his own lips turn up. Elphame should laugh more often. He wanted to see her happy; he thought he could make her happy. If only there was some way…

The Prophecy. It haunted him. It tormented him. How could he fulfill the Prophecy and live with himself? Yet if he didn’t his people would be doomed to an existence filled with pain and torment, or madness.
No!
He couldn’t think of what would happen if his quest did not succeed. His mother had been so certain. Her faith in her beloved Epona had been deep. He could still see her face, alight with remembrance as she performed the Goddess’s rituals and taught him Epona’s ways. She had been so sure. Sure enough to have survived a brutal rape, and, sick and weak from giving birth, she had gathered others like her to make a home for their hybrid children. Children whose mothers were not supposed to survive the births. They should have only served as incubators for their demonic captors,
the Fomorian invaders, whose females had been mysteriously rendered sterile. Human women were not sterile; human women could be impregnated and be used to bring forth a new generation of Fomorians. It was inconsequential that the human mothers could not survive the birth of their horrible offspring.

But his mother had survived his birth, as had a small group of other women. Her Goddess had not forsaken her. How many times had Lochlan heard her say those words? Almost as many times as he had heard her repeat the Prophecy.

Determination filled him. His dreams of Elphame had brought him here; he just had to make his way through the maze of complications to actually be with her. He closed his eyes and leaned heavily against the thick trunk of the tree behind which he stayed hidden. They were alike, Elphame and he, a melding of two races.

The feminine laughter and the cool, fragrant breeze joined to play with his memory. He could almost see his mother, bent over the stream they used to wash their small supply of crude clothing. She had always worked so hard for so little, but when he thought of her, it was her smile and her sweet laughter he remembered first.

“You are my happiness.”
She had told him time and again.
“And someday you will lead the others like you back to Partholon to find their happiness, too, and you will be free of the pain and the madness.”

His mother had been such an idealist. She had believed that her Goddess would answer her prayers and that he would fulfill Epona’s Prophecy. And soon he had quit trying to convince her otherwise. She wanted to believe the humanity within all of them was stronger than the dark impulses imprinted into their Fomorian blood, that goodness would eventually reign over madness and insanity.