Elphame's Choice (40 page)

Blood…she could never get enough…she would drink him dry…she would drink them all dry…she could begin her own army…part-demon, part-goddess…first she must kill Lochlan…kill the betrayer…

Kill Lochlan? Kill her lifemate?

Her own consciousness broke through the mist of demon whisperings and with a gasp she pulled her mouth from Lochlan’s chest. On hands and knees she skittered away from him, feeling the panic within her rise as she realized that the crimson pool that covered the floor and coated her body was her own blood. No, that wasn’t right her mind frantically corrected her. The blood that covered her was no longer hers because hers was now mixed irrevocably with that of demons.

Now she was a demon…her only choice was to accept and embrace it.

“Don’t listen to the dark whisperings,” Lochlan panted. He slumped against the floor looking pale and ill. “Fight it, Elphame!”

The phantom sound of Fallon’s mad laughter danced around her.

“Elphame?” Cuchulainn approached her slowly, hands extended. “Come to me.” When she didn’t respond to him, his voice broke. “You can’t leave me too, sister-mine. I cannot bear it.”

Still on her hands and knees, she shuddered at the familiar endearment. The darkness that she had accepted was responsible for Cuchulainn’s loss. And now she was a part of it.
Yes
…She felt the voices stir and writhe within her as if thousands of dark insects fluttered under her skin.
Yes…feel us…hear us…we are you now
.

“I’m not your sister anymore. You can’t help me.”

She didn’t recognize the alien sound of her own voice. She didn’t recognize the staring faces of the people who surrounded her. Her thoughts and memories fragmented—everything she was began slipping away, drowning in the dark tide that pulsed within her. Feeling trapped, she whirled around on the floor and was confronted by the ancient centaur who loomed above her.

“Call upon the spirit of the stones—they will aid you,” he said.

She shook her head wildly. No, the spirits would no longer answer her call. She was alone, lost to the voice of madness in her blood that was silencing her world.

Be at peace, Beloved. I will never abandon you.

The cool words washed through her body. And Elphame clung to them as a dying soul to the breath of life.

“Epona!” Elphame sobbed. As she spoke the Goddess’s name she felt a quivering within her body, and a thought, less substantial than mist floated through her battered mind; she clung to it with all of the humanity left in her soul.

She must trust herself.

Struggling against fear and darkness, Elphame lurched to her feet. She stumbled forward and the crowd of stunned people and centaurs parted until she stood before the fountain in the middle of the great courtyard. She gazed into the face of the marble girl who was her ancestor, and the first shaft of morning light touched her. With a clean, caressing hand, the ray found the brooch of The MacCallan and it flashed with a brilliant light. Within that light, Elphame sought and found her heritage—a heritage of faith and fidelity and the strength of love triumphant that could not be usurped by the dark lure cast by evil. The new day broke over her like a beacon of hope, and Elphame remembered who she was, and with that
knowing the alien darkness that had thought to steal from her the strength of a goddess’s love, writhed and shrieked, but was forced to retreat from the blinding light of trust and courage. With a sound like the scurrying of spiders’ feet, the evil whisperings retreated until they were no more than the memory of echoes.

As if she was awakening from a long sleep, she languidly held her blood-drenched arms under the stream of clean water and watched as the cool liquid washed the stain from her, swirling it around the basin, diluting and weakening it before draining it away. When her arms were free of stain, she threw back her head and bathed her face in the pure light of Epona’s morning. A cry swelled within her like a burgeoning child and then burst from her to echo from the walls where it was taken up by the joyous voices, first of her brother, then of her husband and then her clan.

“F
AITH AND
F
IDELITY
!”

“F
AITH AND
F
IDELITY
!”

“F
AITH AND
F
IDELITY
!”

Smiling triumphantly, Elphame collapsed to the marble floor and welcomed the peace of unconsciousness.

LIKE THE SWEET
fragrance of honeysuckle on a spring breeze, her mother’s voice drifted into Elphame’s dream.

“I wish it could have been easier for her.”

“I know, Beloved.”
This time Elphame instantly recognized Epona’s voice.
“I, too, wish she could have been saved the agony of it, but your daughter’s path has never been an easy one. You see now how well the difficulties of her past readied her to face her destiny.”

“She did well, didn’t she?”

“Very well. She has made me proud.”

Elphame’s soul quickened with happiness at their praise.

“Her way will still be difficult,”
the Goddess continued.
“Most of Clan MacCallan will accept Lochlan and his people out of love for her, but the rest of Partholon will not be so easily won.”

Her mother sighed.
“Now will you allow me to go to her? At least I can formalize her handfast with him.”
Then her mother’s voice saddened.
“And Cuchulainn has need of a mother’s touch.”

“Go to them,”
the Goddess said.
“But do not be surprised if Cuchulainn’s pain is greater than a mother’s touch can soothe….”

Her mother’s response faded away as Elphame drifted up through the layers of sleep. As her waking senses came slowly alive her body told her that it rested comfortably upon down and fine linens. Light flickered delicately against her closed lids. Her eyes fluttered, and then opened.

Her first waking thought was that it must be night because the only light in the room came from the large, iron candelabrum and the fire cheerily burning in the hearth, and she wondered how long she had slept. Hadn’t it just been morning? Then a shape took form out of the corner of her eye, and she turned her head to see Lochlan. He was sitting in a chair beside her bed. His head had dropped forward and he was asleep. Her eyes drank him in. He still looked battered and bruised, but his skin had lost the porcelain tint of shock it had had the last time she’d seen him, when he had been slumped weakly against the floor and covered with her blood….

And her memory flooded back. For a moment panic fisted her stomach as she listened within, waiting for the mad voice of darkness to begin its lethal whispering through her tainted blood. But the voice did not come. There was only a vague stirring of something buried deep within her, like a half-remembered dream. With intuition born of the Goddess’s touch, Elphame knew that though she carried inside her the madness of a race of people, love and trust and faith had been victorious against its evil legacy.

You must remain vigilant against the darkness for as long as there is breath in your body, Beloved
. The voice of Epona washed through her mind.
But remember that I will always be with you. You have been touched by the Goddess….

She must have made some involuntary sound in response, because Lochlan’s eyes suddenly snapped open. When he realized she had awakened he reached for her hand.

“Cuchulainn!” he shouted.

Almost instantly her brother joined Lochlan at her bedside.

Dark circles framed Cu’s eyes and the stubbly beginnings of a beard covered his usually smooth-shaven chin. Elphame thought her brother appeared to have aged a lifetime.

“You look terrible,” Elphame croaked.

Cuchulainn’s haggard face broke into a smile and Lochlan’s relieved laughter sounded more like a sob. She looked from her husband to her brother.

She cleared her throat before trying to speak again. “Well, neither of you are in chains, and I don’t see any wounds that look new. May I assume that the two of you are learning to get along with each other?” she rasped.

“She isn’t mad.” Lochlan pressed her hand against his lips and she was shocked to see that silent tears wet his face.

“I told you she wouldn’t be,” Cuchulainn said. His eyes, too, were suspiciously bright.

“
She
can hear both of you,” Elphame said, exasperated.

“Welcome back, sister-mine,” Cu said.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“It is the night of the fifth day,” Lochlan said.

She blinked in surprise. “No wonder I’m so hungry.”

Cuchulainn’s smile looked out of place on his deeply lined face. “Wynne will be very pleased to hear that.” He started to hurry toward the door.

“Cu, wait.”

Reading the expression on her face, Lochlan kissed her hand softly before releasing it and then stepped aside so that Cuchulainn could take his place beside her.

Elphame sat up and held out her hand to her brother.

“I wanted to tell you about Lochlan—”

Looking incredibly tired, Cuchulainn shook his head. “You don’t have to explain, El.”

“Yes, I do. I wanted to tell you about Lochlan from the moment I met him. I just didn’t know how, but I didn’t want you to find out on your own and think that I didn’t love you enough or trust you enough to confide in you. That wasn’t it—it wasn’t you I doubted, it was me. I couldn’t find the words, and then you were so in love with Brenna.”

Cuchulainn clenched his jaw and looked away from her.

“I don’t blame you or Lochlan for Brenna’s death.” He paused and drew a deep, shaky breath. “I don’t even blame Fallon. The madness wasn’t her fault.”

“Cu, look at me,” Elphame said. When her brother met her eyes she looked into the depths of his grief and understood that he was telling her the truth. He didn’t blame them for Brenna’s death—he blamed himself.

“Cu,” she began, but he dropped her hand and stood so abruptly that the chair almost toppled over.

“I can’t talk about it, El,” he said. Without looking at her he turned and moved hastily to the door. Over his shoulder he said, “I’ll get you something to eat,” before closing the door on his pain.

“He refused to allow her to be burned on a funeral pyre,” Lochlan said. Instead of taking the chair, he sat beside her on the bed, facing her. He took her hand in both of his. “He said that fire had caused her too much pain already.”

“Oh, Cu,” Elphame gasped, staring at the closed door.

“So the Master Centaur made a tomb for her and carved her effigy to seal it. This morning Cuchulainn finally laid her to rest within it.”

“Where?” Elphame whispered, wiping tears from her cheeks.

“In the spot in which her tent stood.” He shook his head sadly. “I think the warrior entombed his heart along with Brenna.”

“I should have been there with him. He needed me.”

“You had much to recover from. Do not blame yourself. Your brother spoke truly. He does not blame you, nor does he blame my people or me. He has acted nobly in your stead these past days.”

“Fallon and Keir and the other two—what has happened to them?” she asked.

“Cuchulainn ordered that Fallon be imprisoned at Guardian Castle, where she will await the birth of her child, as well as your decision as to what penalty she must pay for the crime she committed. Keir chose to go with her. Curran and Nevin remain here, healing from their wounds.”

Elphame studied his face. “The madness, is it truly gone?”

“It is.” The wonder of it still lingered in his voice. “It has left me, as it has left the others. You have fulfilled the Prophecy and saved my people.” He stroked her cheek gently. “And within you, my heart? Do you feel the burden of its weight?”

Elphame’s gaze turned introspective. Like breath blown over a still pool she felt the dark ripple deep within her. “It is there, within me. I can feel its presence. The madness has been beaten, but I think not totally silenced. I have the word of Epona that I have won a battle against it, but the Goddess has warned me that I must be ever-vigilant if I am to remain victorious.” She shivered.

“There is no other possibility than victory,” Lochlan said fiercely. “Together we will not let it conquer you.”

The bright strength of his love filled her and she felt the waiting darkness within her retreat again.

She drew a deep, satisfied breath. “We must send for your people. They must bring the children here.”

Lochlan pulled her into his arms and his healing wings wrapped around her, filling her with his warmth.

“We shall, my heart, we shall,” he said.

Elphame stood before the marble tomb as the morning sky sent out hesitant tendrils of mauve and violet. The effigy was very beautiful; it almost looked as if Brenna had fallen asleep and turned to stone. Except that Danann had carved her image free of any scars.

“I didn’t ask him to leave off her scars. It didn’t even occur to me.” Cuchulainn’s haunted voice came from beside his sister. He stepped forward, bent and placed an armful of turquoise-colored wildflowers in the stone girl’s arms.

“When I asked Danann about why he had not shown her scars, he said that he had simply carved her the way he remembered her,” Brighid said. The Huntress touched the effigy’s right cheek, which was now as clear and smooth as the left side of her face.

“Brenna would be pleased to be remembered thus,” Elphame said. She turned to her brother and took his hand. “Please don’t leave, Cu.”

“I must.” He looked over her shoulder at the castle that was beginning to awaken. “Everything here reminds me of her—every scent and every sound seems to speak her name.” His grief-filled eyes met his sister’s troubled gaze. “It is not that I wish to be rid of her, I only wish to learn to bear her loss. I cannot do that here.” He squeezed her hand before releasing it.

Elphame’s mind understood what he was saying, but her heart ached at the thought of her brother’s absence.

“I will miss you, Cuchulainn,” Brighid spoke quietly as she reached forward to clasp his arm in a warrior’s salute.

Her skin was warm against his strong grip. “I was wrong about you, Brighid Dhianna. You have been a faithful friend.”

“Perhaps someday we will go hunting together again.” She smiled sadly at him.

A muffled
woof
drew their attention downward and Fand jumped from a tuft of tall grass to growl and snap at Brighid’s hooves. The Huntress frowned.

“I amend my offer. I will hunt with you again, only if you promise not to bring anything back that is alive.”

Cuchulainn patted his thigh and the cub gamboled over to him to wriggle around his legs. “The next time you see Fand, she will have better manners.”

“That is what all parents say,” muttered Brighid as she started back to the castle.

Brother and sister stood silently looking at one another. Then Elphame was in his arms, hugging him hard and burying her head in his familiar shoulder.

“Can’t you wait for Mama?” she asked through her tears. “You know the runner said she was only a day’s ride away.”

Cuchulainn patted her back. “She’ll understand.”

“No she won’t. She’ll be mad.”

Elphame heard his brief chuckle. It sounded gravelly and painful and so completely unlike the lighthearted brother she knew so well that her heart contracted with a rush of sadness.

“You’re right, but she’ll be so busy clucking around you and Lochlan that she won’t have time to dwell on it.” Gently, he pulled away from her and kissed both of her cheeks. “This is something that I must do,” he said. Then he turned and tossed the gelding’s reins over his neck and mounted him in one smooth movement.

As if on cue, Fand launched into a series of pitiful whines and Elphame quickly scooped her up and handed the plump cub to her brother.

“I love you, sister-mine,” he said, and then he pointed his horse to the north and kneed him into a trot.

Elphame watched as he joined the two winged figures who waited patiently before the castle’s main entrance. Their
wounds were not completely healed and their wings were still painfully tattered, but Curran and Nevin had insisted on accompanying Cuchulainn when he announced that he would be journeying to the Wastelands to guide the displaced children of Partholon home.

Elphame kept watching until they faded into the trees. She felt like her past had disappeared with Cuchulainn, and with his absence the happiest part of her youth had also departed. What would happen to her beloved brother? Would he always be a broken shell of himself, or was there some way he could be healed? Elphame knew the bittersweet irony of her thoughts. Cuchulainn needed to find a way to mend what was broken within him without a Healer. She had felt so helpless over the past days as she had watched a horrible emptiness permeate his soul. Could he find happiness without Brenna? She didn’t know. She had believed she would lose Lochlan, so she knew something of what her brother was feeling. She could have gone on without her lifemate, as had Cuchulainn, but could she have truly found happiness again? That she didn’t know.

Please, Epona
. She sent a silent, fervent prayer to her Goddess.
Watch over him and bring him safely home. And help him to find happiness again.

Elphame’s heart ached and already she missed Cuchulainn’s familiar presence. Her shoulders shook with sobs and her steps were leaden as she began retracing her path back to the castle.