Goddess Born

by Kari Edgren

  In truth, I hadn’t thought to meet her again till summer’s end, and an odd mixture of relief and dread swirled inside me from the unexpected visit. Had she felt my despair? Is that why she’s here tonight? To provide answers and perhaps grant my request?

  While pacing in my room earlier, I had come to the conclusion that there were only two ways for Henry and me to be together—either I had to learn to conceal my power or forfeit it altogether. A week ago, I’d have sworn that giving up my gift was the hardest thing I could ever do. But after the past two days, I knew that losing Henry would be a hundred times worse. With this memory fresh in my mind, I squared my shoulders and pushed forward, convinced that one way or another, Brigid held the key for my happiness.

  “I am pleased to see you, Selah,” she said, glancing up when I approached. “Sit down and rest with me.”

  As this was the first we’d met since my father’s death, I hesitated and contritely hung my head, unsure what to expect from my previous transgressions. Does it even matter anymore? No punishment could exceed what I’d already agreed to sacrifice.

  Brigid smiled. “Rest easy, Daughter. I have considered the circumstances and shall overlook the infractions this time.”

  My head came up. “Really? I’m not to be punished?”

  “Not this time,” she repeated and patted the ground. “Sit and rest with me.”

  I did as she bid, tucking my knees up to my chest. Despite the unexpected reprieve, my other concerns continued to weigh heavy.

  “Your spirit is weary. Why have you not come sooner?”

  Brigid watched me with dark blue eyes similar to my own. I sighed, knowing better than to lie or offer excuses, no matter how awful the truth may sound. “I was distracted.”

  “But I have made it so easy for you to visit,” she laughed pleasantly. “A handful of herbs and a few words of greeting is all I require to carry your spirit here. Maybe it is too easy and that is why you put it off.”

  “I promise not to wait so long next time.” Assuming there is a next time...

  A small crease appeared between her brows, only to disappear just as quickly. “Many of my sons and daughters bring tidings from the first world, telling me how mankind is faring in these times. But you are my only child living in this new land.” She looked at me closely. “It can be lonely being so far from home and your own people.”

  Henry popped into my head. I pushed his image away, but not before Brigid raised her eyebrows.

  “I see,” she said, her eyes twinkling with understanding. “You have not been so lonely as I first thought. He is a handsome man—an Englishman, I believe. Does he know what you are?”

  “Not yet.” I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. “Is there any way to hide it?”

  “For some of my lesser children maybe, but not a power so strong as yours.”

  My shoulders slumped from the revelation. Concealment had been my first choice, as it would have allowed me to keep both Henry and my gift. But from Brigid’s words, I could only have one. So be it—

  She narrowed her eyes on my face. “You think to forfeit your birthright for this man.”

  I blinked away the beginnings of tears. “How else can we be together?” My voice came out strained and unnaturally high.

  “It is a noble gesture, Selah, though I’m afraid it will never work.”

  “Why not?”

  “Again, because your gift is too strong. You would have more luck asking an eagle not to fly than to deny your nature and refrain from healing.”

  Defiance nudged my chin forward. Then I’ll not renew my power. The flame will eventually go out and there will be nothing left to flow into Henry...

  Brigid shook her head. “Refusing to drink from the spring would only end in your death. Look in your heart, Daughter, and you will see the truth.”

  The boldness drained away as a sudden tightness gripped my chest. It would kill me?

  “Over time, depending upon the circumstances.”

  “Then what am I to do?” Was I destined to be miserable?

  “Perhaps there is another way.”

  Hope leapt inside me, catching the breath in my throat. “I’ll do anything.”

  She considered me for a moment, her expression thoughtful. “On occasion it has worked between our two kinds. But most of the time it does not, at great consequence to my children. Is this a risk you’re willing to take?”

  I thought of Henry again and how my heart had nearly burst with joy when he returned tonight. “I love him.” The truth was that simple.

  “Then I give my consent to reveal your true identity. This is not a promise of your happiness, only that you are free to act without fear of reprisal for breaking my law.”

  I gaped at her in surprise. “What should I tell him?”

  “Everything, of course,” she laughed. “Love cannot be based on parts and you would soon discover that half-truths can be even more dangerous than lies.”

  Of all the options I’d considered earlier, absolute honesty never seemed possible. First, the law forbade it. Second, since discovering my birthright, I had been taught to equate such a confession with sure and violent death. Just thinking about it now terrified me to no end, though with Brigid’s approval, it appealed more than either concealment or denial.

  On occasion it has worked...

  Perhaps this would be one of those occasions. The tightness released somewhat from my chest, and I sat quietly, wondering which way it would be for me. Henry was a good man, but that was no guarantee how he would react. If he believed me, then we could be happy. Otherwise, he would think me under the Devil’s influence. If only there was a way to know before.

  Surely he would understand and not think me evil—

  “Tell me, Daughter,” Brigid said. “How have you been using your gift?”

  “I healed a man of lockjaw two days ago. And I think a baby will need her heart repaired once she is born.” Pulling the rock from Ollie’s nose hadn’t taken anything more than a steady hand.

  “You are a blessing to these people.”

  “A blessing to some and a curse to others,” I murmured. “Why do some people insist on hating us when all we want to do is help?” My question was more rhetorical, since I was already well versed in the answer.

  “Humans have always feared what they don’t understand.”

  “Then why keep us a secret? If our true identity were revealed, people would learn not to fear us. Once they saw what we could do, they would come to revere us—”

  “You mean they would worship you,” she interrupted. “And yet you are not a god. It is not your place to be worshiped.”

  My mouth tightened with annoyance. “So we are to be despised and persecuted instead.”

  Brigid looked beyond me toward the edge of the garden. A veil of sadness shadowed her lovely face, and a long moment passed in silence. “It has not always been this way,” she said, returning her eyes to mine. “There was a time when my children were known, but the temptation for glory became too great. Through me you are divine and have gifts held only by the gods. But you are also human, subject to human temptations. Too many of my sons and daughters were tempted to raise themselves up in pride, demanding to be worshiped for their power. When I left the human world I decided it best to keep your identities secret, to save you from yourselves.”

  The memory of being thrown into the river and the looming charge of witchcraft came into my head. What was the purpose of being saved from myself if someone else was just going to kill me?

  Brigid arched a delicate brow. “You have made some enemies,” she said. “These people may have the power to destroy your body, but only you can destroy your soul. Do you understand the difference?”

  I nodded halfheartedly.

  “Then why are you
afraid of dying?”

  Only a god would ask such a question. I loved my life, my friends, living at Brighmor. I loved Henry and wasn’t ready to give him up, even for the Otherworld. “I just don’t want to die yet.”

  “Yes, I see that. But this does not release you from your divine obligation. While my blood runs in your veins, you may not deny those in need, regardless of your personal safety. To do so would be to curse yourself.”

  “What if a man is wicked?” I thought of Nathan Crowley and how many times I had wished for his death. “Wouldn’t it be better to let him die?”

  Brigid tilted her head to one side, the graceful movement reminding me of a swan. “It is a hard thing to measure a man’s heart. Your power is to sustain life, not to judge it. Some of my children who sought to do more have fallen.”

  I sighed, knowing she was right.

  Brigid took a silver cup and dipped it into the spring. “Drink, Selah, that you may be strong.”

  I accepted the cup. The cold water turned to fire in my throat. Brigid controlled both elements, and in this spring she had combined them to give power to her children. The water rushed through me, filling me with her divine strength.

  Brigid looked at me approvingly. “Be true to thyself, Daughter,” she said, taking the cup. “It is time to go home. Your Englishman is waiting.”

  I looked at her curiously, but she said no more, returning her attention to the spring.

  Like Brigid’s garden, I pulsated with renewed life when I walked back into the mist. The sunlight faded, swallowed up by darkness, and I found myself kneeling again in front of the altar. The herbs were nearly consumed, the few remaining leaves and twigs giving their last heat. I took in a deep breath of smoke and earth to reacquaint myself with the mortal world. All of my senses were heightened, the feel of the rough stone against my skin, the scent of burning herbs mixed with freshly crushed ferns, the sound of breathing nearby...

  My eyes flew open, searching the darkness. Directly in front of me, I saw Henry, illuminated by the moonlight. He was dressed in a pair of breeches and a linen shirt, left untucked and open almost to his waist. In his haste to follow me, he hadn’t tied back his hair or even pulled on shoes or stockings. I could feel his confusion at finding me like this, his desire for what he saw as my untamed nature. Be true to thyself. Nothing could be more true than my love for Henry. I wanted him to know what I was, and to love me if he could.

  As if in a dream, I walked over to him and slid my arms around his neck. He offered no resistance when I pulled him to me, bringing our mouths together hard. His chest was exposed, and the heat from his body passed through my thin sheath to the skin beneath. Already dangerously near the surface, a warm tide surged inside me, threatening to spill over if we didn’t stop.

  Henry’s arms encircled my waist, and he pressed a hand into the flat of my back to bring us even closer. A tremor of pleasure ran through me and I gasped as the fire poured from my skin. It flowed into him, and he pulled his head back, groaning softly. Then his hold on me tightened and he brought his mouth down upon mine with renewed fervor. My whole body blazed hot, the intensity nearly driving me beyond control. I wanted him to take me further, to make me his wife right here on the forest floor.

  Another rush of power, and his arms began to tremble around me. He groaned again in pleasure, pressing my head hard against his chest. “Oh, Selah,” he murmured into my hair. “What are you doing to me?” He kissed me again, letting his mouth slide down to my neck as his hands moved up my back. “What spell is this?” he whispered, his breath hot on my skin.

  With our bodies pressed together, his desire flowed freely into me, equal to my own. But there was something else, something I hadn’t expected. Other emotions began to take hold—not fear exactly, but suspicion and unease.

  “You have bewitched me...”

  His words knifed through my passion. Piece by piece, I felt him arrive at the conclusion that I was somehow unnatural—that I was indeed a witch. In a panic, I wrenched free of his grasp, and stepped back, terrified of what he might do or say next. “I...I didn’t mean to,” I gasped.

  “Wait, Selah,” he said, reaching for me.

  But it was too late. I turned and started to run. Finding the path, I ran as if demons were chasing me, my feet pounding against the earth. Henry started after me, but being more familiar with the woods and running barefooted, I stayed ahead of him. Reaching the house, I ran in through my apothecary and straight up the stairs to my room. The bolt slid into place, securing the door just as Henry arrived. We were both breathing hard from the exertion, and I heard him lean against the door. My legs were shaking so badly that I could no longer stand.

  “Selah, please open the door. We need to talk.”

  “I’m sorry, Henry.” I rocked back and forth, my arms wrapped tightly around my knees. “I’m so sorry...”

  Chapter Thirteen

  A Vision of Evil

  Loud knocking woke me from my place on the floor, followed by Mary’s muffled voice asking if I needed help to dress for Sunday meeting. Not wishing to be seen, I spoke through the closed door, telling her that I would remain home this morning. Cold and sore, I regretted sending her away without first asking for a pot of tea.

  Henry had stayed in the hallway for much of the night, trying to convince me to let him in. I had refused, telling him to go away when he so much as hinted about what happened in the woods. From his choice of words and conflicting emotions, I knew he thought me to be a witch. Or, at least, he was very close to thinking so.

  Why was it always this way with humans? A bit of unfamiliar power, and I was inevitably evil. With Henry’s testimony, Nathan could seal my fate for good. She led me into the woods and put me under a spell. They would hang me twice, just to be sure.

  I must have inhaled too much of the burning herbs at the altar to think he would understand, or that he could ever believe what I really was. Not that I blamed him. Standing in his place, I probably wouldn’t believe me either.

  I pushed up from the floor to stretch the soreness from my legs and arms. My feet felt scratchy, and I looked down to see that they were still covered in dirt. The sheath was also filthy and torn where a thorn had snagged it. With a sigh, I pulled it off, throwing it in a corner on my way to the dressing table to clean up. The water in the pitcher was cold, left over from last night, but it sufficed for a quick sponge bath.

  I splashed my face and neck several times, accidentally sloshing water onto the mirror. Over the years, I had stood in this exact spot to search my reflection. If I were really Goddess Born, it stood to reason that there would be some physical characteristic ready to give me away. Out of habit I looked again, but found the same face staring back—entirely human in both form and feature. The divine part stayed tucked safely inside, only coming to the surface when needed to heal someone, or, as I had recently learned, when kissing Henry.

  After my freakish display last night, I now had to figure out the best way to backtrack and convince Henry that nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Maybe I could claim it had been some kind of shock between us, or that a rare type of lightning had passed over Brighmor. Both of these ideas were absurd, though sadly enough, they might be easier for Henry to believe than the idea that I descended from a goddess.

  With some reluctance, I put on a simple cotton frock and brushed the tangles from my hair. Voices came through the window, and I glanced out to see the servants departing on foot for Hopewell to whatever religious services they would be attending. While I stood watching, Henry also left on horseback. At the end of the drive, he stopped and looked toward the house. I ducked out of sight before he could see me. Needing to block out the whole world, I unhooked the drapes, letting them fall across the window. As the daylight disappeared, I suddenly felt very tired and went to my bed to lie down.

  It seemed like only minutes had
passed when the front door banged opened and hurried footsteps came up the stairs to my room. The knob rattled, followed by a series of loud knocks.

  “Let me in, Selah Kilbrid,” Nora said. “I’ve news that can hardly wait for the telling.”

  Nearly falling out of bed, I rushed to the door and turned the key. “Good heavens!” I exclaimed, still groggy eyed from sleep. “What’s the matter?”

  Nora walked in. “Why are you sitting in the dark? It’s like a cave in here.” She went straight to the window and pulled open the heavy drapes.

  “It was a difficult night,” I said defensively. “I was sleeping.”

  She looked me up and down. “I can see that. Come and sit before I tell you anything.”

  Still feeling a bit unsteady on my feet, I did as she told me and sat down in the chair near the hearth. “Did you run all the way here?” I asked. Her face was red and slicked with sweat, and strands of dark hair fell from the neat knot at her neck.

  “Yes, I did, and I’ve not much time. Soon as meeting was over, I slipped out the door to see you, but Anne and Gideon Boyle are not far behind.” She took a hand towel from my dressing table to dry the sweat from her face. “You will not believe what happened this morning.”

  “What is it?” I asked, already dreading whatever she had to say.

  “Nathan Crowley has had a vision. He stood at the end of meeting and proclaimed there’s a witch living in our town.”

  I sucked in my breath. “Did he say who it was?” My voice came out half choked, though Nora didn’t seem to notice. She was practically bobbing on her feet from excitement.

  “That’s the best part. In his vision, he was forbidden to give the person’s name yet. There’s to be a special meeting in three days where he will divulge it. Isn’t this the most exciting news?”

  “And you believe him?” I was growing increasing distressed by her excitement.

  “Do be serious,” Nora said, rather indignantly. “Of course I don’t believe such poppycock. The idea that one of our neighbors could actually be a witch? I’ve never heard something so absurd in my entire life. I mean, it’s not like we’re living in Europe where they still believe this sort of rubbish, running around like a bunch of heathens ready to burn each other up at a moment’s notice.”