Elphame's Choice. P.C. Cast

me to know my own mind, Mama.”

      You must let her go, my Beloved. The Goddess spoke the words gently within Etain’s mind, but still it felt as if the blade of a knife had passed through her soul. Trust her to find her own destiny, and trust me to care for her.

      Etain closed her eyes, struggling against second thoughts and loss. With a deep breath she opened her eyes, and wiped the wetness from her cheeks.

      “I do trust you. And you will always have my blessing.”

      Elphame’s face was transformed, and the lines of worry that so often clouded it dissipated, leaving her looking heart-wrenchingly young.

      “Thank you, Mama. I believe that I am fated to do this. Just wait until you see MacCallan Castle alive again.” She happily gave the silver mare’s neck an enthusiastic squeeze. “Let’s hurry back so I can finish packing. You know I’m supposed to leave at dawn tomorrow.”

      Elphame chattered brightly as she kept pace easily with the mare and her mother. Etain made meaningful, attentivesounding noises, but she couldn’t stay focused on her daughter’s words. Instead it seemed that she already felt the weight of Elphame’s absence as if it were a black hole in her soul. And, even though the late spring evening was warm, a chill marked its finger down the back of Goddess Incarnate’s neck.

      Chapter 2

      “Cu, remind me why I agreed to let you come with me.” Elphame looked slantways at her brother and tried to increase her gait without being too obvious. He was singing what seemed like verse five hundred of a semi-raunchy military marching song and the never-ending chorus pounded through her right temple in time with her headache, almost making her wish she had not insisted that the two of them travel separate from the rest of their party.

      The big buckskin gelding on which Cuchulainn rode automatically picked up his pace to match El’s long strides. Her brother’s infectious laugh rang around them. “I came, sister-mine, to protect you.”

      Elphame gave an unlady-like snort. “Oh, please, spare me. Protect me? It’s more likely you needed a break from chasing the temple maidens hither and yon.”

      “Hither and yon?” His handsome face broke into a boyish grin. “Did you really say hither and yon?” He shook his head in mock seriousness. “I knew you were spending too much time reading those tomes in mother’s library. And it’s not the maidens I’d be after.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at his sister.

      Elphame tried unsuccessfully to hide a smile as she gave him a fond look. “Next you’ll be reminding me that you don’t have to chase any woman anywhere.”

      “Now that, sister-mine, is the simple truth…” He let the words trail off and grinned at her.

      “Hmm, I thought you might be staying at home to welcome the…” Elphame cleared her throat and tossed back her hair, doing a perfect imitation of their mother’s tone of voice as well as her body language. “…lovely and unmarried daughter of the Chieftain of Woulff Castle who will be sojourning at Epona’s Temple on the way to begin her training at the Temple of the Muse.”

      Cuchulainn’s mouth tightened, and for an instant Elphame regretted her teasing. Then, with his usual good humor he shrugged his shoulders and gave her a long-suffering grin.

      “Her name is Beatrice, sister-mine. Can you image anyone named Beatrice not having a high forehead and regal carriage?” He spoke the words putting a simper in his deep voice, which made Elphame laugh out loud.

      “She’s probably a very handsome woman,” El said through giggles.

      “No doubt fertile, with ample hips and the ability to bear many children.”

      Brother and sister exchanged looks of complete understanding.

      “I’ll be glad when Arianrhod and Finegas are old enough for Mama to start matchmaking for them.” El said in a tone that sounded more serious than she had intended.

      Cuchulainn sighed heavily. “The twins will be eighteen this summer. In three more years Mother will be in her matchmaking glory.”

      El slanted a look at Cu. “Poor kids. It almost makes me wish we hadn’t picked on them so much when we were children.”

      “Almost!” Cuchulainn laughed. “At least we’re all in this together—it’s not like Mother singles out one of us.”

      Elphame just smiled at him and quickened the pace again, forcing herself temporarily ahead of her brother on the narrowing trail. But it’s not the same for me. Thoughts whirred incessantly through her restless mind. Her siblings were humans—attractive, talented, sought-after humans. She didn’t need to glance over her shoulder to picture Cuchulainn. His face was as familiar to her as her own—and very like her own. She smiled wryly. Cu was just a year and a half younger, and from the waist up they, too, could be twins. He had her high, well-defined cheekbones, but where hers were delicate and feminine, his were ruggedly masculine. Her chin was (according to their mother) rather defiant, and his was stubborn and proud (according to his eldest sister), complete with an adorable cleft. Instead of his sister’s sable eyes and dark auburn tresses, he had eyes that were a unique color shaded somewhere between blue and green, and thick, sandycolored hair that refused to give up its childish cowlicks. So he kept it slicked back and cropped short, which made their mother cluck and complain over the waste of not letting it grow like a proper warrior’s.

      But Cuchulainn, son of Midhir, High Shaman and Centaur Warrior Lord, did not have to be a “proper warrior.” Named after one of Partholon’s ancient heroes, he already looked and acted the part, whether he always behaved properly or not. Tall and well-formed, he excelled at tournaments, was the finest human swordsman in Partholon and had never been bested in archery. Elphame had heard more than one young maiden sigh longingly and say that he must indeed be Cuchulainn reincarnated.

      No, Cu had never lacked for female companionship. He had just not yet found his lifemate. Elphame’s shapely lips tilted up. “But not for lack of trying,” she muttered to herself.

      That was one way she was very unlike her brother. He was suave and experienced with the opposite sex. She had never been kissed.

      Even her youngest siblings, whom she and Cu had nicknamed the Little Scholars, had no trouble finding partners for moon rituals. While Arianrhod and Finegas weren’t as athletic as their older brother and sister, they were certainly growing into intelligent, poised young adults. Looking almost like mirror images of each other, their tall, graceful bodies were completely human—totally normal. And, Elphame admitted to herself, Arianrhod was as pretty as Fin was handsome.

      The path that cut through the ancient forest curved to the right and widened. Cuchulainn urged his gelding to his sister’s side.

      “She reminds me of Mama,” El said suddenly.

      Cu looked around in surprise. “Who?”

      El rolled her eyes. She always expected her brother to read her mind, and was annoyed the few times he didn’t. “Arianrhod, who else? That’s why the boys already moon over her. Of course it’s not like she cares or even notices—not unless she’s completely changed during her first term at the Temple of the Muse.”

      Her brother’s turquoise eyes crinkled with his smile. “Arianrhod’s head will always be in the clouds.”

      “Astronomy and astrology are inexorably linked to the Fates, and as such it is wise to study them carefully.” El mimicked their younger sister.

      Cu laughed. “That’s one of our Little Scholars, all right. The irony is that young, besotted men will chase her all the harder because of her indifference. You see the maidens are already starting to follow Fin around, and his beard is still like duck’s down.”

      “Well, for whatever reason they certainly like her a lot.”

      Cuchulainn looked closely at his sister. “Are you all right?”

      “Of