Elphame's Choice. P.C. Cast

she added quickly, “just apart. Like I’m something they are afraid to get too close to because I might…” Here she faltered and laid her cheek against the broad forehead of the silver mare. “…I don’t know…might shatter. Or perhaps cause them to shatter. So they treat me like I am a statue that has come miraculously to life right in front of them.”

      My beautiful, lonely daughter, Etain thought, feeling the familiar ache of not having the solution to end her firstborn’s pain.

      “But statues aren’t loved, not really. They’re cared for and kept in a place of honor, but they aren’t loved.”

      “I love you.” Etain’s voice sounded choked.

      “Oh, I know, Mama!” Her head flew up and her eyes met her mother’s. “You and Da, and Cuchulainn and Finegas and Arianrhod all love me. You have to, you’re my family,” she added with a quick smile. “But even your private guards, who adore you unquestioningly and would give their lives for either of us, believe I am something essentially untouchable.”

      The mare moved a step forward and El leaned against the side of the horse. Etain ached to take her daughter in her arms, but she knew that the young woman would stiffen and tell her she was no longer a child, so she contented herself with stroking her satin hair, willing Epona’s comfort from her hands into her daughter’s body.

      “That’s why you came out here today, wasn’t it?” El asked quietly.

      “Yes,” her mother responded simply. “I wanted to try one more time to talk you out of going.” Etain paused thoughtfully before she spoke again. “Why not stay here and take my place, El?”

      Her daughter jolted upright and started to shake her head violently from side to side, but Etain doggedly continued.

      “I have had a long, rich reign. I am ready to retire.”

      “No!” Elphame’s voice was adamant. Just the thought of taking her mother’s place sent a thread of panic through her. “You are not ready to retire! Look at you. You look decades younger than your age. You love performing the rituals of Epona, and the people need you to continue. And you must remember the most important thing, Mama. The spirit realm is closed to me. I have never heard Epona’s voice or felt the touch of her magic…” The sadness of the truth of her words settled resolutely on Elphame’s face. “I have never felt any magic at all.”

      “But Epona speaks to me of you often,” Etain said softly, touching her daughter’s cheek. “Her hand has been upon you since before your birth.”

      “I know. I know the Goddess loves me, but I am not her Chosen One.”

      “Not yet,” her mother added.

      Elphame’s only response was to lean against the warm familiarity of the horse’s neck while the mare nuzzled her affectionately.

      “I still do not understand why you must leave.”

      “Mama,” Elphame said, turning her head so she could look up at her mother. “You sound like I am traveling to the other side of the world.” She raised one dark eyebrow in exasperation, which her mother always thought made her look so much like her father.

      Etain’s answering smile was sardonic. From the moment of each of their births, she had been devoted to her children. Even now that they were adults, she preferred that they stay near her. She honestly enjoyed their company and appreciated them for the individuals they were growing into.

      El spoke slowly, willing her mother to really hear her words. “I don’t know why it upsets you so much that I’m going. It’s not like I’ve never been away from home. I studied at the Temple of the Muse and that didn’t seem to bother you.”

      “That was different. Of course you had to study with the Muse. It’s where all the most spectacular females of Partholon are educated. Arianrhod is there now.” Etain’s smile was selfsatisfied. “Both of my daughters are spectacular, which is one reason I enjoy having you near me,” Etain said logically.

      “If I had married, I might have moved to his home.” El’s voice had lost its frustrated edge and she just sounded exhausted.

      “Don’t talk like you’ll never get married. You’re still young. You have years and years left.”

      “Mama, please. Let’s not start this old argument again. You know no one will marry me. There’s no one like me, and no one who wants to get that close to a goddess.”

      “Your father married me.”

      El smiled sadly at her mother. “But you’re all human, Mama, and besides, the High Shaman of the centaurs is always mated to Epona’s Beloved. He was created to love you—it’s what is normal for him. It is obvious that the Goddess has touched me, but I am not Her Chosen. Epona has not prompted any centaur shaman to come forward as my mate. I don’t think anyone, man or centaur shaman, was created to love me. Not like you and Da.”

      “Oh, Fawn!” Etain’s voice broke on the childhood nickname. “I don’t believe that. Epona is not cruel. There is someone for you. He just hasn’t found you yet.”

      “Maybe. And maybe I have to go away to find him.”

      “But why there? I don’t like to think about you being there.”

      “It’s just a place, Mama. Actually it’s just an old ruin. I think it is past time that it was rebuilt. Remember the stories you used to tell me at bedtime? You said that once upon a time it was beautiful,” El coaxed.

      “Yes, until it became home to slaughter and evil.”

      “That was more than one hundred years ago. The evil is gone, and the dead can’t hurt me.”

      “You can’t be sure about that,” her mother retorted.

      “Mama,” El reached up and took her hand. “The MacCallan was my ancestor. Why would his ghost harm me?”

      “There were more who died at the slaughter of MacCallan Castle than the Clan Chieftain and the noble warriors who gave their lives trying to protect him. And you know the castle is said to be cursed. No one has dared to enter its grounds, let alone live there, for over a century,” Etain said firmly.

      “But all of my life you have watched over the MacCallan shrine and its ever-burning flame,” she countered. “We have kept alive the memory of The MacCallan, even though the clan was destroyed. Why should my wish to restore his castle surprise you? After all, his blood runs in my veins, too.”

      Etain didn’t answer her immediately. For an instant she actually toyed with the thought of lying to her daughter, of saying that she had Goddess-given knowledge of the veracity of the castle’s curse. But only for an instant. Mother and daughter had a deep reservoir of trust as well as love between them, and Etain wasn’t willing to damage or take advantage of that—and she would never lie about knowledge given to her by Epona.

      “I do not truly believe The MacCallan would harm you, though it is quite possible that restless spirits inhabit the old castle. And I admit that the curse is just a tale to frighten errant children. It’s not so much that I fear for your safety—it’s just that I don’t understand why you must go with the workers who will clear out the ruins. Why not wait until the mess has been cleaned away and they have rebuilt it so that it is actually habitable? Then you can oversee the final stages of construction.”

      Elphame sighed fondly at her mother. The Chosen of Epona was used to living in luxury, surrounded by servants and handmaidens. It wasn’t possible for her to understand her daughter’s desire to get her hands dirty and live rough until the job was done.

      “I need to be involved in every aspect of this. I’m going to rebuild MacCallan Castle, and I’m going to be mistress of it. As Lady of the Castle and of the surrounding lands I will have something of my own, something I’ve had a hand in creating. If I can’t have my own mate and my own children, then I can at least have my own kingdom. Please understand and give me your blessing,