Elphame's Choice (24 page)

Spoken aloud, her words became the lost pieces of a troubling puzzle. Her eyes widened in sudden understanding, and she felt some of the anger within her begin to thaw.

“Perhaps the lure of belonging caused my errant thoughts.” Her smile was grim. “Like a child, I have allowed pretty fantasies to sway my common sense. Pretty fantasies that centered around a handsome face.” Brenna sighed. She couldn’t avoid the subject any longer, not when she was speaking to the Goddess who knew her so well. Deliberately, she unclasped her hands and stroked her finger down the side of the turquoise-colored feather.

“It wasn’t just his face, Epona. It was the kindness I saw in his eyes. It made me forget that all he can feel for me is pity, and not true caring.” She gave a slight shake of her head and her voice hardened again. “They think pity is caring. Not true. Pity is a foul sweetmeat—something meant to cover what is better kept hidden. But life eventually washes away layers, exposing even buried truth.” She steeled herself before she continued speaking her most secret thoughts. “Truth was exposed tonight. He thought he would take pity on the scarred Healer and dance with her. As usual, handsome men—” Brenna blew out a breath through terse lips “—think of very little except their own desires. I knew better. I should never have believed…”

Her voice faded. How could she have believed that he was beginning to care for her? But she already knew the answer to her silent question. It had been in his eyes—in those amazing eyes, which were the same color as turquoise and exotic birds. He had looked at her with—

“No!” The word burst from her mouth. “I’m finished with vain longings that only open old wounds.”

Brenna welcomed the return of the anger that had suddenly
broken though her grief that night. With a hard-edged sense of finality she rose to her knees so that her body was positioned over the burning lavender. Resolutely, she wafted her hands through the sweet smoke, bathing her body in the scent of the herb. She repeated the ritualistic action three times. Then she picked up the carved mare’s head, closed her hand around it, and pressed her fist against her breast.

“Great Goddess Epona, for the first time in all our many years together I wish to beseech you with my own orison. I ask that you help me to find my calm center again so that peace may return to my heart and soul. I seal this prayer by calling upon the four elements. Air, which holds the breath of life. Fire, which burns with the pureness of loyalty. Water, which washes and restores. And Earth, which comforts and nurtures.”

Brenna’s words caused no magical stirring in the air around her, but she thought she detected a new warmth in the smooth wooden figure she clenched, and with that warmth the remaining coldness of the anger that had blossomed within her melted and died. Brenna closed her eyes and sighed sadly. Anger was not the way—it was only a temporary balm that dealt only with the symptoms and not with the problem itself.

She would find peace within herself again. She would avoid Cuchulainn, which shouldn’t be difficult. Brenna had stayed in the Great Hall long enough to see his body react to Wynne’s seduction. The beautiful cook would be keeping him very busy.

As she fell asleep she ignored the pain thinking of Cuchulainn with another woman caused her.

IT WAS A TRUE
pleasure to wake in her own chamber to the muffled sounds of workers already busy with the day’s business of restoration. Elphame stretched slowly, testing the soreness in her side and shoulder. Pleased, she rubbed at the puckered scab that slashed across her waist. The sharp pain was gone, replaced by an itchy numbness. Would it be too decadent for her to begin her day with a long soak in her private bath? She grinned. Not if she made it a short soak. She nearly vaulted from her bed, and hurried to the entrance to the bathing chamber, slowing only when she began the sharp descent down the stairs. She didn’t even want to imagine what Cuchulainn would say if she tripped and had another fall. For balance, she let her hand slide over the rough skin of the stone wall. The instantaneous connection with the spirit of the castle thrummed under her palm.

Home
, it said to her.
The MacCallan is home
.

The castle filled her with a sense of belonging. Had she ever
been happy before? She didn’t think so—not really. Before she had come to MacCallan Castle her happiness had been an infant compared to the adult her joy had become. Now, if only she could complete her home.

Lochlan…his name whispered through her blood.

She had to find a way to meet with him secretly. Spending time with him was the only way she’d learn for sure if…. How had The MacCallan put it? Learn if it is only at his side that she could find peace. And then what? Her brow crinkled. She’d have to deal with that problem when she came to it. She needed to focus on small steps first, accomplish one thing before another.

Perhaps now that she was firmly installed in her own chamber it would be easier. She definitely had more privacy. Could she sneak out of the castle at night and find him?

Suddenly, stones under her hand warmed and the pinprick sensation in her fingers intensified. With a feeling of increasing wonder, Elphame stepped down into her bathing chamber. Purposefully, she turned to face the solid stone wall. She pressed both palms against the rough skin of the castle and tentatively repeated her last thought aloud.

“Is there some way I can sneak out of the castle and find him?”

As had happened the night before, Elphame watched in awe as a golden thread spooled within the stone beneath her hands. Like a flash of lightning it whipped, glowing through the wall, snaking around the room to come to rest in a thin disk of incandescent gold that shimmered in an area of the wall across the chamber from where she stood. Maintaining a connection with the stone through her fingertips, she walked the circumference of the room, following the pulsing thread.

The glowing disk was situated at the level of Elphame’s eyes in the far corner of the bathing chamber. No torches illuminated that area and the sphere of brightness looked startlingly
like an opened eye. Tracing the ends of the thread, she ran her fingers up and placed her palm against it. Her eyes narrowed as she studied the stone beneath her palm. Like the rest of the stones, it warmed under her touch, but other than its temperature, it felt decidedly different than the rest of the stone that fashioned the thick walls of the castle. Instead of being rough and many-textured, the palm-sized area was perfectly smooth. That close, she could see that it did not rest flush against the wall, but was raised slightly like a giant button made of stone. Testing, she slid her fingers around it. It hadn’t been mounted on the wall. Instead it fitted into the wall itself. Not like a button, she decided, like a key.

And she blinked in surprise. A key?

Elphame pressed the disk. With the sound of an exhalation of breath, a door-sized portion of the wall swung away from her. Disbelieving, she peered into the dark recesses of a musty-smelling tunnel.

“Elphame!” Brenna’s voice echoed down the staircase from the room above. “Are you down there?”

Frantically, Elphame tugged against the immovable slab of stone, trying to close it.

“Yes! I’ll be right up!” she called over her shoulder.

Her hand found the smooth disk again, and this time when she pressed it she was relieved to see the hidden door slide silently back into place.

“Incredible…” she murmured before hurrying up the stairs to greet the Healer. Later, Elphame promised herself, later when she was alone and was sure of being uninterrupted she would explore her new discovery.

“Good morning!” Brenna said as Elphame emerged from the basement chamber.

Elphame noted that her bright tone contrasted distinctly with the dark circles shadowing her eyes.

“Good morning. You look tired. Didn’t you sleep well last night?” Elphame asked.

The Healer began fussing with the tray she had just set on the table. “I’m fine,” she said waving away her patient’s question. “It’s your sleep you should be concerned with anyway, especially after the busy day you had yesterday.” Brenna motioned for Elphame to sit and she took her wrist, checking her pulse with one hand while she studied her eyes and carefully felt her head and shoulder with the other. “You look well this morning. Let me see that wound in your side.”

Obediently, Elphame raised her nightdress. She watched her friend carefully as she nodded, obviously pleased by the wound’s progress and gently rubbed a fragrant, soothing salve over the scab. Brenna looked tired—tired and sad. Elphame needed to find out what had happened to her.

“I hated to leave last night,” she began, watching Brenna closely. “It was a wonderful celebration. Everyone seemed to be having a good time.”

Brenna made an abstract sound of agreement. Elphame thought she detected a tightening around her friend’s lips.

“Did anything special happen after I retired?” she prodded.

“No. Just music and dancing. I didn’t stay long.”

Elphame arched her brows in surprise. “Really? That surprises me. You seemed to be having a good time when I left.”

“No. Yes. I mean I was having a good time. But it was late. I was tired. So I went to bed.”

Elphame thought Brenna’s nonchalance sounded forced. Her friend would not meet her eyes. Her face was unnaturally pale and her eyes looked haunted. For a moment the ridiculous thought crossed her mind that she wished Brenna was made of stone so that she could simply touch her and understand her thoughts. Elphame almost laughed aloud at the idea, but watching Brenna she suddenly realized that the little Healer
did actually have a lot in common with the stone of the castle. Elphame considered what she had witnessed last night from the Chieftain’s Tower. On the outside, Brenna looked placid, even stoic, but on the inside she must be filled with as many rich and varied emotions as was MacCallan Castle.

How could she get Brenna to confide in her?

Trust and love…one went hand in hand with the other. In order for there to be trust there must be truth. She should simply tell Brenna the truth and show her she could be trusted.

“I climbed up to the Chieftain’s Tower last night,” Elphame said softly.

Brenna looked up from ministering to her wound, a faint frown creasing her forehead.

“You shouldn’t have done that. I know you’re feeling markedly better, but you have to be careful not to overdo.”

Elphame nodded impatiently. “I know, I know. I’ll be careful.”

“Well, at least you did no damage.” Brenna smoothed down her nightdress. “I would not recommend a soak in your bathing pool this morning, though.” She smiled lopsidedly at Elphame’s scowl. “Tonight. You may bathe again tonight. Just be careful to reapply the ointment after you have dried the wound. Now,” she said briskly, wiping her hands on her apron and turning back to the table. “I brought you a good, strong herbal tea and breakfast. It’s important that you begin the day well fueled.”

“I’ll drink your wretched brew,” Elphame said, pointing emphatically at the chair across the table from her. “If you sit and eat with me.”

“Very well.” Brenna looked pleasantly surprised. “I would be pleased to break my fast with you.” Then she sent Elphame a teasing look. “And I think you’ll find that my ‘wretched brew’ is more than palatable. This morning I added rosehips and honey to it.”

“You’re spoiling me,” Elphame said, eyeing the teapot dubiously.

“Anything for The MacCallan.” Brenna executed a cute little curtsey, grinning at her Chieftain.

Elphame felt her shoulders relax. Maybe it would be easier to get Brenna to talk to her than she thought. Their long hours together since her injury had cemented their friendship. Brenna inspected her body as if treating a woman who was part-human, part-centaur was completely normal. And she never hid her face from Elphame anymore. There was a sense of ease between the two of them that, until coming to Mac Castle, Elphame had only felt in the presence of her family.

And, Elphame reminded herself, there was definitely a relationship developing between Brenna and Cuchulainn, even if the two of them weren’t completely aware of it yet. So she owed it to her brother, too, to find out who had hurt Brenna.

She waited until Brenna had poured tea for both of them and had begun to nibble at the cold rolls filled with meat and hard yellow cheese before she started speaking.

“The view from the Chieftain’s Tower is incredible.”

“Yes, I know,” Brenna said through bites. “The stairs are too narrow for Brighid to navigate, so she insisted that I go up there and report every detail to her.”

Elphame nodded, trying not to be impatient and blurt out what she wanted to say. “Did you notice how well you could see who comes and goes through the front of the castle from there?”

“Yes, that was probably the original intention of the builder—to give The MacCallan a way to keep watch without being easily noticed.”

“I think so, too.” Elphame cleared her throat. “Actually, that’s exactly what I did last night.”

“Really?” Brenna’s expression was open and curious. “Did you see anything interesting?”

Elphame didn’t answer. Instead she held Brenna’s gaze with her own until she saw understanding, followed instantly by embarrassment, flash in her eyes.

“I saw you leave the castle,” Elphame said gently. “You were very upset.”

“I—I was just tired,” Brenna stuttered.

“No. It was more than that. Someone had hurt you. Badly.” Fighting against a lifetime of lessons that had taught her not to touch others, Elphame made herself reach out. She covered Brenna’s hand with her own. “Can’t you trust me enough to tell me what happened?”

Brenna’s eyes were bright with a sheen of tears. “Of course I trust you, Elphame. You are my friend.” She hesitated, and then she smiled a sad, crooked smile. “It’s just that I feel like such a fool.”

Elphame squeezed her hand. “At least you didn’t fall down a ravine and break open your head.”

Brenna sighed. “Actually, in a way I did fall—”

Her next words were interrupted when the door to Elphame’s chamber burst open and Cuchulainn rushed into the room.

“Wake up, sister-mine! You can’t spend all—”

Cu’s words broke off as he caught sight of Brenna. Elphame watched her friend’s expression change as her startled gaze shot to Cuchulainn. She pulled her hand from beneath Elphame’s, before bowing her head and staring down at the table. There was no mistaking the flash of pain, raw and fierce, that contorted her face before she blanked all emotions from it and hid behind a veil of hair.

“I didn’t know you were here, Brenna. If I had, I would not have come in unannounced. I don’t mean to interrupt.”

Elphame glanced over her shoulder at her brother. His expression, like his voice, was that of a contrite boy. He was staring pathetically at Brenna. El looked back at Brenna. The Healer was resolutely staring at the table, ignoring him.

It was Cu, Elphame realized with a jolt. Cu had somehow hurt Brenna last night. She was going to have a very serious talk with her little brother. What had The MacCallan called him?
Thickheaded
. She had to admit that the old spirit had a point.

“Cu, you should learn to knock. But now that you’re here, have a seat. Brenna brought plenty of breakfast, and even though you have the manners of a barbarian, you’re welcome to join us.”

Brenna stood so fast that her chair tipped over.

“I must go. I haven’t checked on the worker with the hand wound this morning. His dressing will need to be changed,” she said as she hurried past Cuchulainn without looking at him.

“Wait, Brenna. Surely you have time for breakfast,” Elphame said.

“No. I—I must go. No.” She paused before leaving the room. “I will meet you here after the evening meal to inspect your wound again. See that you don’t overdo today, Elphame.” She rushed through the door as if she couldn’t wait to escape.

Rooted in place Cuchulainn stared silently after her.

Elphame frowned and shook her head at him. “Well, why are you standing there like a silly statue? Go after her! You were too late last night, try to do better this morning.”

Cu’s body jerked in surprise.

“How did you know?”

“Later. Now just go.”

He nodded once and smiled grimly. Before he jerked open the door he looked back at his sister and blew her a kiss. “Thanks, sister-mine.”

“Just fix whatever you’ve done wrong,” she muttered at the closing door.