by P. C. Cast
“Thank you. It’s nice to be home.” And I meant it. Their smiles were shy but warm. I singled out the taller of the nymphs, whose willowy beauty I suddenly realized reminded me of a kid named Staci, one of my all-time favorite students. My voice reflected the affection I had for her mirror image in my old world when I told her to, “Please tell the kitchen that ClanFintan will be eating the evening meal with me in my chamber. And tell them I am verrrry hungry.”
“Of course, my Lady!” The Staci-nymph bounded out of the room.
“Would the rest of you please excuse us? I would like to be alone with Alanna.” They curtseyed their way gracefully out the door.
“It will be so good to relax!” I watched as Alanna busied herself setting out the stuff for my bath. “Um, while you’re busy I’m going to, well…” I nodded in the direction of the potties.
“Certainly, my Lady.”
After an experience that I will describe only as satisfying, I returned and began stripping the filthy clothes off my body.
“Ugh. These things are just plain gross.” I sat near the edge of the steaming pool and pulled off my crusty boots. “Hey, is there any bath oil over there that smells like the sand soap in the forest?” Alanna gave me a quizzical look. “You know, kind of like almonds and vanilla and, well, soap?”
“Yes, my Lady, I know.” She turned and looked through the elaborate bottles that perched near the full-length mirror, stopping to smell several and discarding them, until she found one that fit my request. She brought the bottle over to the pool and poured it into the warm water. The soft scent of it hovered with the steam.
“That’s it.” I sniffed in appreciation, yanked off my pants and stepped gratefully out of the nasty thong. With a sigh of pure delight I lowered myself into the fragrant water. “Ahhh—this is beyond words.”
“Yes, my Lady.”
Somehow through the ecstasy of clean, warm water Alanna’s behavior penetrated. I opened my eyes and watched her through the mist. She was busy rearranging brushes and makeup jars.
“Alanna.”
She didn’t pause, but answered in the cool voice of a stranger. “Yes, my Lady.”
“Quit messing with that stuff and come over here and talk to me.” I didn’t mean for it to come out as an order, but she jerked stiffly around and moved to the side of the pool.
“What is it you wish me to say, my Lady?”
“I want to know why you’re acting like I’m some stranger! Or worse yet, like I’m really Rhiannon!” My frustration made me sound grumpy.
“As you know, I am your servant, my Lady. I am only acting as befits my place in your household.” Her eyes were downcast.
“Bullshit.”
She glanced up at me, then quickly looked down again. I studied her face. She looked pale and tense. What the hell was wrong with her?
“I thought we got all that slave crap straight before I left.”
“As you wish, my Lady.”
“Stop this ‘as you wish’ and ‘yes, my Lady’ garbage! How many times do I have to explain to you that I can’t see you as my slave? You’re my friend.”
Her eyes finally lifted to meet mine. I could see they were brimming with tears.
“Suzanna is your friend, not I.”
“But you’re a lot like Suzanna, and I can’t help but want you to be my friend.”
She drew a deep breath. “Would you have stolen out in the deep of night, going into danger and horror without telling your Suzanna you were leaving? Or asking for her aid and prayers?”
Yipes. Now I understood.
“No, I wouldn’t have,” I said quietly.
“So you see, my Lady, no matter what your words say, your actions show we are not really friends.”
“Oh, Alanna, you are so right.” I couldn’t believe what a mess I’d made of this.
“It is better we remain slave and mistress only.” Her voice was resigned.
“No! That’s not what I meant.” I cleared my throat, searching for the right words. “I meant you are absolutely right to be pissed off at me.”
“Piss—” Now she really looked confused.
“Oops, I keep forgetting. Pissed off means mad. You have every right to be mad at me. It was an idiotic thing for me to do.”
“My Lady! I could not be mad—”
I interrupted, “Sure you could. You are. And you have reason to be.” She started shaking her head, but I talked over her protestations. “You’re right—I would have told Suz. I should have told you. I was wrong. Please forgive me and give me another chance at being your friend.”
She looked at me as if I’d just grown another eye or something, but the tears were no longer threatening to spill from her eyes.
“I…I…” She seemed to be struggling within herself.
“I’m sorry I hurt your feelings and made you mistrust me.”
“I forgive you.” Her expression shifted as she spoke the words and a tentative smile raised the edges of her lips.
“Good! Next time I do something crazy I’ll clue you in on it. Then we can both worry together.”
“I would like that.”
“Me, too.” I sighed and relaxed back into the water, happy that we’d gotten that straightened out. “Could you hand me something to wash with?”
“Of course, my La—”
I had to interrupt her. “Alanna, I can’t stand this ‘my Lady’ stuff. Can’t you call me something else?”
She came back to the pool with another delicate bottle in her hand and a thick, cream-colored sponge. (I mean a real sponge. The kind they use at the ritzy spas.) She put the bottle on the ledge that ran the length of the pool and proceeded to crouch down, grab my arm and begin washing me.
“No offense, girlfriend, but I would really rather you just sat there and talked to me. And let me wash myself.”
She looked vaguely disconcerted, but she handed me the sponge and my arm. “If that is what you wish, my Lady.”
“I’d appreciate it.” It’s just too weird to be washed by your friend. “So—” I soaped myself up, loving the satinlike feel of the warm mineral water “—what else can you call me besides ‘my Lady’?”
“I suppose I could call you Rhiannon.” She didn’t sound totally convinced.
“Rhiannon.” I didn’t like it. “I don’t like it.”
“It means queenly.”
“That figures,” I muttered as I scrubbed the crud off the bottom of my feet. “I wish you could call me Shannon, but I suppose that wouldn’t be a good idea.”
“No.” She looked worried.
“I know! My friends don’t call me Shannon very often, they shorten it to Sha. What if we shorten Rhiannon to something like Rhe or Rhea?” Jeesh, my feet were disgusting.
“Rhea?” She looked doubtful.
“Yep. I like it.”
“Well, I will try.”
CHAPTER 14
“Alanna, can you find me something that will wash the yuck out of my hair?”
“Of course—” she paused, obviously struggling before she added “—Rhea.” She looked through bottles until she found a tall golden one. “This is hair soap made from honey and almonds. Rhiannon’s favorite—I thought you would probably like it, too.”
“You’re right, I do. It’s strange how similar our tastes are, isn’t it?”
Alanna gave a sudden, unladylike snort. “I think strange is not a strong enough word.”
“Hang on, I’m going to dunk under and get this disgusting hair wet. Then I really would appreciate it if you could help me lather it up.”
“I would be happy to help you, Rhea.” This time the nickname came easier.
I held my nose and plunged under, shaking my head around so that the water soaked through my matted curls. Surfacing, I sputtered, wiping hair out of my eyes. Turning my back to Alanna, I sat near the ledge while she uncorked the bottle and poured the thick, soapy mixture all over my hair. Then we both attacked the dirty mess. We had to repeat the
rinse-and-wash cycle three times before I felt really clean.
The bathing pool was remarkable. There was some sort of system that allowed dirty, soapy water to drain out one side, while fresh, hot water ran in from another side. And it was huge. The center was deep enough that if I stood, the soothing water covered me to just under my chin.
Finally clean, I lay back near the area where water bubbled in, soaking away the soreness in my muscles. Alanna sat near me, her legs playing in the water like she was a kid sitting on a riverbank.
“I am sorry you had to see the horror of what happened at MacCallan Castle,” Alanna said sadly.
“I had to go. I didn’t want to, but I needed to.”
“Yes. But I am glad ClanFintan followed you.”
“I don’t know what I would’ve done without him.” A sudden thought startled me. “Epi! I didn’t even ask if she got home okay.”
Alanna’s brow wrinkled quizzically, then her expression cleared. “The Chosen—Rhiannon’s mare. Yes, ClanFintan’s centaurs escorted her home. She is resting contentedly in the stables.”
“Her hoof’s going to be all right?”
“She did not appear to favor it when last I saw her.” She smiled at me. “The two of you have become friends?”
“She’s wonderful.” I know I sounded like a giddy schoolgirl. “I’ve always loved horses.”
“Considering your new circumstances that is a lucky coincidence.”
“No kidding.”
We were both silent—contemplating deep thoughts of mirror dimensions and horse goddesses and sex with centaurs…
“I really like him.”
Alanna blinked at me. Innocently.
“Who, my Lady?”
“Don’t ‘my Lady’ me.” I splashed water at her and she giggled. “You know who. Mr. Tall, Dark and Equine.”
“So you are not upset at being mated with him?” Her eyes were sparkling.
“I can’t seem to keep my hands off him.” I think I had the good grace to blush, but it might just have been the heat of the water.
“Now you do sound like Rhiannon.” Alanna’s hands flew to her mouth and she tried to stifle another giggle.
“Now you sound like Suzanna.” And we laughed together. “Oh, jeesh, that reminds me—he’s going to meet me in my room and give me his—” pause, wink “—report. Please help me pick out something great to wear.”
Alanna jumped up and grabbed a thick towel, in which I quickly wrapped myself. I sat at the vanity and we both started toweling my hair dry.
“And there is the problem of those horrid man-creatures.” Both our hands stilled and our eyes met in the mirror. “Oh, Alanna, I had another of those dream things. The creatures have taken the women to Guardian Castle. They’re mating with them.” I turned and took her hands in mine. “I watched as a newborn creature burst from a woman’s body.” I shuddered at the memory. Alanna’s eyes grew huge and her hands gripped mine tightly. “Tell me the centaurs are strong enough to kill those things. I know so little about this world. Do I have an army or something, too? Or are Rhiannon’s guards just boy toys?”
“The centaurs are mighty warriors.” Her voice was firm. “And Rhiannon chose her guards for their fighting ability as well as their…prowess and other, shall we say, endowments.”
I squeezed her hands and turned back around. “At least she was a smart slut.”
Alanna’s grin answered me.
“Speaking of being smart…” I watched Alanna in the mirror as she started working a comb through my damp hair. “I feel like an idiot because I don’t know my way around this world. Does Rhiannon have a map or something you could show me? I didn’t even know Guardian Castle was Guardian Castle. ClanFintan must think I’m some kind of airheaded moron.”
“Yes, there is a map of Partholon in your chambers.” She cleared her throat and smiled sheepishly at my reflection. “You realize you will have to perform a blessing ceremony for the people on the morrow?”
“I forgot.” Great, like I didn’t have enough on my mind? “Can’t you take my place or something?”
Alanna looked shocked. “No! You are not Rhiannon but you are still Epona’s Beloved and our High Priestess.”
I opened my mouth to interrupt.
“My Lady, you have been gifted with the Magic Sleep. That alone is proof of Epona’s favor.”
My mouth started to open again.
“And the mare loves and accepts you.”
My mouth shut.
“You are Beloved of Epona and the people’s spiritual leader.” Her expression softened as she continued. “The people count on you, probably much like your students did in your old world. My Lady, I cannot believe you would let them down.”
My mind wandered. I guessed I could come up with a brief morning blessing, heavy on Celtic sentiments. Yeats was one of my favorites—between him and Shakespeare (and whoever else I could cannibalize) I should be able to “borrow” enough material to get by (and perhaps not embarrass myself or my profession: teachers—the few, the proud, the broke). My mind scurried around rehearsing fragmented combinations of half-remembered poetry and partially recognized soliloquies…
“Tilt your head up, Rhea. Let me finish your eyes.”
I blinked and did as Alanna ordered, vaguely surprised to find that while I’d been mentally rehearsing she’d been transforming me from the Wicked Witch of the West into Cinderella (at the ball—before midnight). She finished expertly highlighting my eyes, handed me a pot of bronze lip shine and held out two gauzy bits of silky nothing for my inspection.
“Do you have a preference?”
“Yes,” I gulped. “I’d like to leave something to his imagination.”
Her giggle bubbled. “You say the most unusual things!”
“I guess I like the green one with the gold threading.” The other one was white with some kind of sparkly silver beading and I was certain that no matter how many times she wrapped it around me it would still be transparent. How’s a girl to sit comfortably in that kind of outfit?
“The green matches your eyes.” She held out a tiny scrap of silk. Experience had taught me it was a hankie masquerading as my panties. Experience had also taught me it didn’t give much protection from the elements. But tonight the only element I’d need protection from would be ClanFintan, so…I quickly slipped on the thong and held my arms away from my sides while Alanna began wrapping and twisting the silk around me.
“That gold design is so pretty. What is it?” I craned my head around trying to recognize the glittering upside-down shapes.
Alanna had stuck the end of a brooch in her mouth and she answered me through pursed lips, “Skulls, of course.”
“Of course.” I should’ve known.
She pinned the silky garment at my right shoulder, then handed me a pair of sandals made of soft cream-colored leather. The shoes laced halfway up my calves and I was pleased to note that they had heels. Flats just can’t be all that sexy.
Alanna was working her way around my body, tucking and pulling folds of silk into place. She studied me, nodding her head like she was pleased with herself, and turned back to the vanity to open the lids of intricately carved boxes. As she poked and prodded through the contents, I noticed sparkles and followed to peek over her shoulder.
The boxes were filled with jewelry. I felt my mouth go dry.
“Ohmygod, are all of those mine?”
“They are now.” She sounded smug.
“I take it Rhiannon would have a litter of kittens if anyone touched her loot?”
Alanna’s sudden laugh ended in a snort. “That is one way of putting it.”
“Good. Let’s dig through and load me up.”
“Yes, let’s,” she mimicked.
As I have already mentioned, Rhiannon’s taste was very similar to mine. That held true in the jewelry department (if not the panty department). The boxes before me were filled with gold. Shining, flat herringbone necklaces, twinkling diamond-cut ropes,
intricate knots and twists of brooches and earrings. Precious and semiprecious jewels were sprinkled liberally amidst the golden mess—I noticed everything from earrings set with iridescent blue topaz to necklaces crusted with ancient teardrops of crystallized amber. And diamonds. Lots of diamonds. It was as if someone had emptied into the boxes several trays from Tiffany’s estate collection.
I tried not to babble incoherently and to remember that I was dressing for my husband, not for a spot on a TV evangelism program.
Finally I decided to mix demure with Marilyn Monroe. I chose a long, thick diamond-cut rope necklace which nestled heavily between my breasts (which were mostly bare), an exquisite pair of dainty pearl and gold drop earrings and (this is the Marilyn part) around my left wrist I clasped a bracelet of enormous round diamonds held together by tiny gold links. I held my hand out, twisting it this way and that, while I admired the fire of the diamonds. I mean, they were really cool. Even Pammy, my flashy girlfriend who lived in Las Vegas, would be drooling.
“Do not forget this.” Alanna held out the beautiful coronet I had worn before.
It was gorgeous, but I hesitated. “Are you sure it isn’t a little much?”
“Rhiannon wore it always. It is sign of your nobility and station—a coronet can only be worn by a Priestess who is the Beloved of a Goddess.”
I decided to follow my gut feeling. “Then I think I’ll choose to leave it here. Tonight I want to be ClanFintan’s Beloved.” I looked at Alanna with belated concern. “I don’t want to piss off my Goddess, though. Do you think Epona will mind?”
Alanna gave me a quick half hug that was so like Suzanna it made my breath catch. “Epona would want you to honor your husband and be happy.”
“Good. Let’s go back to my room.” I led the way to the door. “And I’ll go first—I have to start learning my way around. If I mess up I’ll just act like a bitch. No one will notice anything out of the ordinary about that.”
As we swept grandly out of the bathing room, the adorable door ornaments snapped to attention. I couldn’t stop myself from tweaking the taller of the two’s cheek (the one on his face).