by P. C. Cast
Happily, Morrigan remembered the way to the Great Chamber. Of course, even had she not, it would have been a simple thing to follow her nose. The smell of freshly baked bread was as effective as road signs. When she and Brina entered the chamber Morrigan was surprised by the number of people who were there. They were all engaged in animated conversations, and she noticed right away there was a lot of laughing and talking going on—lots more than had been going on the night before at dinner. A woman Morrigan recognized as the sculptress Gladys looked up and caught sight of her.
“The Light Bringer comes!” she cried.
With happy little sounds, all of the women stood and then dropped into fluid curtsies while the men—there were fewer of them, but there were men present—bowed like gentlemen from back in the day. The attention brought Morrigan up short and made her stomach feel all fluttery.
And then Birkita was there, curtsying in front of her. Morrigan bent quickly, took the older woman’s hands and lifted her. “Please don’t,” she said earnestly.
Birkita smiled through happy tears. “It is only proper to show respect to our High Priestess.”
“Not you—everyone else, but not you.” Morrigan threw her arms around Birkita and whispered, “How did I do?”
“You were wonderful—perfect,” Birkita said.
“So the topless thing worked okay?”
Birkita pulled back a little and touched Morrigan’s cheek. “It was proper, and the Goddess was pleased. But I want you to be careful, child. Arrogant disregard for authority can get even a High Priestess in trouble.”
Morrigan linked her arm through Birkita’s. “The Goddess is my boss, and I’m not disregarding her authority—arrogantly or otherwise.”
Birkita looked like she wanted to say more, but a tide of happy, chattering women engulfed them, pulling Morrigan to the head table, which was filled with food and pitchers of wine. She noticed that Shayla and Perth were conspicuously absent, but Morrigan didn’t have much time to wonder about that. She was too busy eating and talking to the women who wanted to gush about how magical her glowing skin had looked and how beautifully the crystals had shined. Everyone was excited and happy. To Morrigan it seemed the Great Chamber had been filled with the love of a goddess, and they were all basking, which was why Shayla’s overly sober voice disrupted the mood like cold water dashed on someone bathing in a hot spring.
“If you are not too busy, High Priestess, it would be nice if you would accompany us to greet our guests.”
Mouth stuffed full of cheese and meat, Morrigan looked up to see Shayla and Perth standing in front of the table. They were dressed in clothing as fine as her ceremonial dress. Shayla was even wearing a wide band of gold around her head that looked like a crown. Morrigan gulped, wiped her mouth and tried to answer with some measure of good humor.
“Sure, I’ll come. No problem.” She gave a tight-lipped smile to the people nearest to her at the table. “Excuse me, seems duty calls.” Morrigan stood up, motioning at Birkita. “Calls us, that is.”
“It is customary for the High Priestess to greet distinguished guests, not retired priestesses,” Shayla said, barely sparing Birkita a glance.
Morrigan met Shayla’s cold eyes squarely and said in a matter-of-fact voice. “Haven’t you ever heard of on-the-job training?”
The Mistress blinked in obvious surprise, but recovered quickly. “Job training?” She laughed humorlessly. “Pardon me, High Priestess—” she made the title sound like a baby’s nickname “—but I thought your position was a calling and not merely a job.”
“Vernacular,” Morrigan said shortly. “Where I’m from, a job can be a calling. Take my grandpa, for instance. He was a coach and a teacher—a man who shaped young boys and made a difference in their lives. He called it his job. It was, but it was also his calling. I’m from a different country, Shayla, but just because some of my words are different it doesn’t mean the feeling behind them is wrong.”
“Indeed,” Shayla sniffed. “Still, it is not traditional for an entourage of priestesses to greet guests.”
“Yes,” Perth finally spoke. “They might believe some kind of religious fervor has overtaken the Sidetha.”
“Ah, there you see—vernacular again. Where I’m from, religious fervor in a people would usually be considered a good thing. And tradition? I think I already messed that up once tonight. In Oklahoma during rituals the High Priestess bares herself before her goddess. So I got rid of this.” Morrigan fingered the cape that was, once again, securely laced over her breasts and mentally crossed her fingers, thinking it wasn’t a total lie. G-ma had told her about Wiccan friends of hers who performed rituals sky-clad—she had just stretched that truth. A little. While Shayla was glaring at her, Morrigan took Birkita’s hand. “I’m ready. We probably shouldn’t keep your guests waiting.”
Without another word, Shayla turned her back on Morrigan and strode from the Great Chamber with Perth scrambling to keep up.
“This should be interesting,” Morrigan muttered as she and Birkita followed the royal couple.
“Do not bait her so, child. Shayla is a dangerous enemy,” Birkita whispered.
“Don’t worry, Birkita. I’m a little dangerous myself. Plus, Adsagsona told me to follow my instincts, and my gut tells me that I need you with me.”
“Perhaps you could find a way to prudently follow your instincts?”
Morrigan put her arm around Birkita and squeezed. “I’m eighteen. Nothing I do is prudent.”
Birkita sighed. “That is what worries me.”
Morrigan didn’t reply. Too many people had joined them for a private conversation. Plus, curiosity was killing her. She recognized that they were following a gently upsloping pathway that mirrored the way she had entered the cave in Oklahoma. Of course, in Partholon the path was clean and beautifully decorated—and there were several tunnels that branched away from the main path that definitely weren’t in her old world. But the general design was similar enough that Morrigan thought she could have easily found the surface by herself (without asking the spirits in the crystals for help). Sure enough, it wasn’t long before she saw the rectangular-shaped opening of the mouth of the cave. Large torches and open brazier pits illuminated the area. Over the heads of the gathered men Morrigan could just glimpse the night sky, empty of a moon but overflowing with a sea of stars.
“Come,” Birkita whispered to her. “You should be beside the Master and Mistress so that you may greet the guests in Adsagsona’s name after Shayla and Perth greet them.”
“That’s all I have to do? Just greet them?”
Birkita nodded. “Make them welcome in Adsagsona’s name. Tradition says that the High Priestess is also expected to break bread with them and see that they are well looked after, but Shayla has not followed that tradition in years.”
“Okay, so I’ll greet them and go on about my business. Now hold tight.” Keeping a good grip on Birkita’s hand, Morrigan tunneled her way through the crowd until the two of them popped out into the entryway like two corks surfacing in a turbulent pond. Morrigan hurried over to where Shayla and Perth were standing with Birkita close behind her. Perth was already speaking to someone who was just outside of Morrigan’s line of vision.
“Stonemaster Kai, as always we are honored by your visit.”
“Likewise, Kegan Dhiannon, we are pleasantly surprised as well as honored by a visit from Partholon’s newly appointed Master Sculptor,” Shayla said.
Morrigan forced herself not to roll her eyes at Shayla’s oh-so-sickening-sweet tone. The woman definitely had issues. Recognizing her cue, Morrigan smoothed back her hair, raised her chin and stepped forward to complete her part of the greeting.
And her body froze. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t move. Standing before her was a distinguished-looking middle-aged man and Kyle. Or at least the top half of Kyle. The bottom half of him was a horse!
A small squeak came out of her open mouth, so Morrigan quickly
closed it. But the sound drew attention to her and she saw mirrored looks of shock pass over both men’s faces.
“Stonemaster Kai, Master Sculptor Kegan, allow me to introduce to you our new High Priestess and Light Bringer, Morrigan.” Birkita had moved swiftly up to stand beside Morrigan.
“Morrigan?”
“A Light Bringer?”
The two men spoke together. Their faces had gone utterly blank, but they were still staring at her. She could also feel Shayla’s sharp gaze, along with curious looks from the Sidetha.
“Priestess?” Birkita prompted.
“Hello. Adsagsona welcomes you to the Realm of the Sidetha,” Morrigan managed to say in a voice that sounded way calmer than she felt. From the corner of her eye she saw Birkita curtsy and then move to the side. Hardly conscious of feeling her body, Morrigan mimicked the old High Priestess.
For a few awful seconds Morrigan thought the two men were going to do nothing but stare at her, but Shayla’s imperious voice broke the spell.
“Come, honored guests. Your journey from Epona’s Temple has been long. Food and wine and soft beds await you.”
“Thank you,” said the man Shayla and Birkita had named Kai. With an obvious effort, he stopped following Morrigan with his eyes and dismounted. “Sidetha’s hospitality is much appreciated.”
“Indeed,” said Kyle the horse-man. (Who clearly didn’t need to dismount because he was, well, a horse. The thought had Morrigan pressing her lips tightly together to ward off a hysterical bubble of laughter that threatened to escape.)
Hastily and as quietly as possible, Morrigan took several steps backward, wishing she was invisible. Kyle! How could Kyle be here? Kyle was in Oklahoma. Dead! And how the hell could he be part horse?
“Morrigan, you will, of course, join us,” Shayla said, effectively cutting off Morrigan’s retreat.
She could only nod mechanically, but she couldn’t make her feet follow the group as they moved past her into the cave and headed toward the Great Chamber.
“A moment, Light Bringer. Your garment has come unlaced.” Birkita stepped in front of Morrigan and pretended to relace and straighten the leather cape. “What is it?” Birkita whispered frantically. “What is the matter?”
“He’s—he’s half horse!” Morrigan hissed, choosing the easier of the two shocks to deal with first.
“Kegan is a centaur High Shaman of the Dhiannon herd. He has also recently been named Partholon’s Master Sculptor.” Birkita’s brow was wrinkled with worry. “He is young, but well known to the Sidetha, as he has been traveling here since he was an adolescent to practice his vast carving skills.”
“Birkita, centaurs don’t exist in Oklahoma. Hell! They don’t exist anywhere in my world. I’m sure he’s a good guy, or whatever. But the fact that he exists is—well, it’s more than a little shocking.”
“A world without centaurs? That is hard to imagine, though I can understand why seeing your first centaur would be shocking, but you must control your reactions and carry out your duties.” Impatiently Birkita drew Morrigan along with her back down the pathway.
“It’s not just that. I know him, or at least the human part of him, from my old world.”
“Are you quite sure?”
She hesitated. Think! Don’t just freak out. “Kyle must be his mirror image, weird as it is that a guy who’s half horse can have a human mirror image,” Morrigan said more to herself than Birkita. Then she shook herself, reordering her thoughts. “It’s like Rhiannon and Shannon are mirror images.”
“And, I’m afraid, like you and Myrna are mirror images, too.”
“Uh-oh,” Morrigan said.
“Exactly,” Birkita said.
CHAPTER 9
“Maybe Shayla just wants to show she has control over me. She might leave me alone if I make an appearance and prove she can boss me around,” Morrigan said. She and Birkita paused outside the Great Chamber.
“Let us hope…” Birkita said, but looked as doubtful as Morrigan felt.
Staying in the shadows of the entryway, they peered into the Great Chamber. Morrigan managed to stifle a groan. At the head table Shayla had seated herself between the centaur and Kai. Beside Shayla, the centaur had somehow reclined at the end of the table in place of the portion of bench usually used for seating—that is, when a person’s body was person and not part horse. So actually the horse part of him was lying down, with legs tucked neatly under him, which should have looked awkward as hell, but instead seemed to work very well for him. Morrigan rubbed her temple where a tension headache was starting to pound.
“So you said Kegan—” Morrigan tripped only slightly over the name “—has visited here a lot?”
“Yes, he comes here much more often than other outsiders—well, by outsiders I’m not including Stonemaster Kai. He has long been a visitor here. Kegan is unusual in many ways.”
Morrigan snorted. “You mean other than being half horse?”
“Child, centaurs are not unusual in Partholon, though they do not visit here often. Kegan is unusual because he became a High Shaman at an unusually young age. Add to that the fact that he was recently made Partholon’s Master Sculptor, an honor usually reserved for someone more than twice his age.” Birkita smiled. “Kegan is unique. I quite like him, though he is somewhat of a rake.”
“Rake?”
“He is very popular with the maidens.”
Morrigan stared at Birkita. She was blushing! She looked back at the head table. Shayla pushed the centaur’s shoulder playfully, and giggled ridiculously in response to something he said. Morrigan frowned. Jeesh, she was a hussy.
“Okay, anyway, Kegan comes here a lot and so does Kai.”
“Yes, as Partholon’s Stonemaster, Kai chooses which stones are to be used in all major building projects, and also for minor jobs completed for important people.” Birkita lowered her voice even more before she continued. “Shayla tends to show powerful visitors special attention.” She looked pointedly at Morrigan, leaving no doubt as to what kind of special attention Shayla liked to show. “And Kai has long been a favorite of the Mistress. I have often thought that she would have mated with him had he been of the Sidetha, and her desire for him is one reason she disdains Perth.” Birkita shook her head. “It does not help that Kai is here so often, choosing stone for statues to honor Epona.”
“Jeesh, talk about a Lifetime Movie of the Week,” Morrigan muttered. Then she had another thought. “So, with all this stone-choosing-for-the-goddess stuff, Kai must know Shan—” Morrigan hesitated, stumbling over the name “—I mean Rhiannon.”
Birkita nodded. “Stonemaster Kai has long lived at Epona’s Temple. If Kegan hasn’t moved there yet, he soon will. Epona’s Temple is also where the Goddess’s Chosen, Rhiannon, lives.”
“Crap. Both of them must know Myrna.”
“I know that Kai is very close to Rhiannon and her family. And even were Kegan not Master Sculptor, he’s a High Shaman, which means he meets with Partholon’s centaur High Shaman, ClanFintan, often.”
Morrigan gave Birkita a blank look. Birkita sighed. “ClanFintan is mated with Rhiannon. Epona always fashions a centaur High Shaman as lifemate for her Chosen.”
Morrigan felt her stomach lurch. “Shannon has sex with a centaur?” Then she felt another jolt of shock. “Myrna’s dad is the half-horse mirror of my dad! Well, shit! No wonder Rhiannon revolted and escaped to Oklahoma.”
“Quietly, child!” Birkita pulled Morrigan from the entry-way of the Great Chamber back down the deserted path. Still speaking in a hushed voice, Birkita said, “High Shamans are shape-shifters. Rhiannon would have coupled with him only after he shifted to his human form.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” Morrigan rubbed her forehead again. “Birkita, I’m in way over my head here. I just don’t know enough about Partholon. Too bad this world doesn’t have the Internet.”
“Internet?”
“A way of getting a lot of information about almost anything really fast.�
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“You have that, Light Bringer.”
“Huh? The Internet? Uh, Birkita, I really don’t think so.”
Birkita smiled. “You have a way of getting information. Here.” She touched Morrigan’s head. “And here.” She touched the spot over her heart. “Listen to your instincts and let the Goddess guide them.”
Morrigan stopped herself from asking how she could be sure she was listening to the right voices in her head and heart. I need to believe in myself. “I’ll try, Birkita, I really will, but that won’t help with the fact that I probably look just like Myrna, and Kegan and Kai know it.” Thinking, Morrigan chewed her bottom lip. “Okay, the only thing I can do is avoid those two as much as possible. Hopefully, out of sight will mean out of mind. Plus, there are people who resemble other people. It’s really not that weird.”
“Perhaps a strong resemblance is all you have with Myrna.”
“Yeah, so let’s go in there and sit at a table away from the head table. Shayla’s definitely preoccupied—she might not even notice us. We’ll make an appearance, and get out of there as soon as possible.”
“It is a good plan,” Birkita said.
“Okay, here we go…”
Together they entered the Great Chamber. Morrigan headed straight to a table several removed from the head table, one where many of the other priestesses were sitting.
“Ah, Morrigan. There you are,” Shayla called from across the room.
Morrigan stopped and made a quick curtsy in the general direction of the head table. “Sorry to make you wait. I’ll just join the other priestesses at—”
Shayla made an imperious gesture. “No, no, no. You must join us.” She paused, then added with a frown, “Birkita, too, of course.” Then she turned her attention to Kai. “The Stonemaster and Master Sculptor steadfastly refuse to reveal to us the purpose of their unexpected visit until our new High Priestess joins us.” Shayla was talking to Morrigan, but her gaze barely touched on the High Priestess. Instead she smiled back and forth from Kegan to Kai. She gave the Stonemaster a coquettish, under-her-eyelashes glance. “Tonight Kai’s face is even more unreadable than usual.” Then she swung her flirtatious gaze around to Kegan. “And our centaur friend is being unusually closemouthed. I cannot begin to guess what patron they are here for, which really is rather teasing of both of them.” As she spoke, she gave Kai a pout and touched his arm, which made the sober-faced Stonemaster glance around nervously and look obviously uncomfortable.