Divine by Choice (37 page)

“No!” Rhiannon whispered.

“Yes.” His voice had hardened and she stared at him as if she wanted to reach into his mind. “I have witnessed it. Shannon is Epona's Chosen. She has been recognized in both worlds. And she, too, is pregnant with the true Daughter of Epona.” She shook her head disbelievingly in jarring movements from side to side. Clint continued relentlessly. “The Goddess speaks to you no more. She has not spoken to you for quite some time. You know what we say is the truth.”

She stood there, wordlessly shaking her head, and I saw myself mirrored within her. I saw everything that I had ever feared. All of my insecurities and hurts were suddenly reflected in her expression.

“I am sorry, Rhiannon.” I spoke kindly to her. She was broken and I felt no victory in it, only sadness and a sense of loss.

Clint withdrew his hold on her wrist. She backed away from us through the vestiges of her circle and past the body of her servant, until she tripped on the bulging root of one of the ancient oaks. When she fell she did not get up. Her sobs washed through me as if they were my own.

Once again Clint crouched down beside me.

“Well, Shannon my girl, are you ready to go home?” He sounded resolute.

I couldn't seem to find my own voice, so I just nodded.

“First you better let me take a look at that wound.”

I closed my eyes and pressed my head into his shoulder as he removed the blood-soaked scarf from the hole in my side. I sucked air as he prodded the cut.

“Sorry, love.” He kissed my damp forehead. “It's a nasty cut, but it looks like your rib took the brunt of the blade. Let's see if I can fix this so that you don't bleed to death.”

“That'd be nice,” I said faintly.

Clint wrapped my scarf around my torso to secure the makeshift bandage in place. I tried not to make much noise, but the truth is it hurt like hell and I couldn't help whimpering.

“Do you think you can walk?” he asked when he was satisfied with his work.

“If you help me,” I whispered.

“I'll always help you.” He touched my cheek and his lips gently met mine. “That's what I'm here for.”

Putting one arm around my shoulders and the other under my elbow, he hoisted me painfully to my feet.

“Oh, shit, that hurts.” I was panting hard and sweat had broken out all over my body.

“I know, Shannon my girl, I know,” he said as he helped me take baby steps forward. “Almost there—once you get to the trees you'll feel better.”

I had a vague realization that we had passed Rhiannon, who was a silent shape curled into a fetal position at the foot of the closest oak. Then I was at the base of the giant tree. Clint leaned me gently against the cushioned velvet of the moss-covered bark.

Welcome, Beloved of Epona, the Goddess's Chosen One.

The words sounded wonderful. “Hello,” I murmured, pressing the side of my face against the soft moss. “Please help me. It hurts so badly.”

We hear you, Chosen.

With the words came a sudden rush of warmth that surged the length of my body. Like a shot of morphine-laced adrenaline I immediately felt soothed and invigorated.

“Oh, thank you, ancient one.” My breath came easier as my body responded to the tree's healing power.

“Better?” Clint's hand rested on my shoulder.

I nodded at him.

“Good enough to change worlds?” His voice didn't waver, but it sounded oddly hollow.

I looked into his eyes and I suddenly knew if I said no, if I said let's wait until my wound has healed, I'd never go back. I'd stay here forever and be this wonderful man's wife and the love of his life.

It must be your decision, Beloved. Yours and the Shaman's.

I closed my eyes and leaned heavily into the tree. “But there's really no choice,” I whispered the words to my Goddess. In this world I was an English teacher and a daughter. And I could be wife to a man who loved me very much.

In Partholon I was a symbol of security and the evidence of a Goddess's promised benevolence and fidelity.

Deep within my abdomen I felt a fluttering like the tiny wings of a young hummingbird, reminding me what my decision must be.

I opened my eyes and smiled sadly at Clint. “Good enough to change worlds,” I assured him.

He nodded his head once. “We know what to do. I'll help you straddle the stream, and I'll mirror your position on the other side. You concentrate on calling ClanFintan.”

Rhiannon's mocking laughter sounded strained. Clint and I turned to look at her. She was still curled at the base of the tree, just a few feet from where we stood. Her hair was a wild tangle and her eyes were glassy and unfocused.

“You cannot return.”

Her words chilled me.

“Of course I can. I almost did before. It was only Nuada's appearance that messed up the transfer.”

Now the laughter was mingled with sobs. “You know nothing,
Chosen One!
” she said sarcastically. Then she seemed to collect herself. She wiped her eyes and sat a little straighter
as her words continued. “You can call your centaur mate to the grove, and perhaps you can even touch him briefly through the magic of the trees, but you cannot return to him without a blood sacrifice.” She tossed her head in a way that reminded me disconcertingly of myself. “Ask your Goddess, if you don't believe my words.”

Clint closed the few feet between them and crouched down next to her, much as he had done for me earlier. Again I was surprised by the gentleness of his voice as he spoke to her.

“Rhiannon, I did not need a blood sacrifice to bring Shannon here. I just called her and she came.”

Rhiannon's head swiveled so that her face was very close to Clint's, as if she was a child sharing a secret with her playmate.

Or a lover sharing a secret with her mate.

“I did it.” Her whisper carried in the stillness of the empty grove. “I was calling Nuada. I had been calling him for many passages of the moon. I could feel him but I could not draw him here, even though I was making the proper blood sacrifices. Something was holding him.”

“You killed someone that night?” Clint's voice was infinitely sad.

“Yes.” The word hung in the air between them. “That is how you were able to complete the spell to call her here.” She looked at me then, and instead of her eyes being filled with the hatred I had seen before, they looked empty and tired.

“And the day Nuada actually came here?” I prompted.

“I sacrificed another. This time Nuada came into this world easily at my call.”

“She can't be telling the truth,” I said nervously.

Clint didn't look at me, instead he touched Rhiannon's tear-stained cheek with one hand, while he rested his other palm solidly against the trunk of the pin oak. Shutting his eyes,
he seemed to close in on himself. His aura pulsed so brightly I had to shield my eyes. When the light was gone, he was looking at me. His expression was infinitely sad.

“She's telling the truth.”

“Well, if we need blood, I have plenty of that dripping down my side!” I yelled my frustration.

Rhiannon shook her head slowly. “It must be a death. I learned that lesson well in Partholon. Pryderi taught it to Bres and Bres taught it to me.” I was surprised to see her face pale until it was almost colorless. “The Triple Face of Darkness revels in death.”

I remembered the stories Alanna had told me about Rhiannon's botched experiments during the time she was attempting to exchange worlds with me. Alanna had made it clear her “experiments” had met with horrible deaths, and I had come to know too well the evil of Pryderi.

“Fine. We'll get an animal.” The thought of slitting some poor creature's throat in sacrifice made me feel a little sick, but it was worlds better than the alternative.

“It is not enough.” Rhiannon was staring at me. “You must sacrifice a human for a human to move through the divide.”

I looked at Clint for help. He only nodded slowly in agreement.

I felt my shoulders slump.

Never able to go back. I was never able to go back. The reality of it was crushing. I closed my eyes and felt my silent tears mingle with the damp moss.

How is this a choice?
I sent the angry thoughts to my Goddess.
If this was the “rule” then the “choice” had little to do with what Clint or I wanted.

The decision to return was yours, Beloved. The choice to send you is the Shaman's.
The confusing answer passed lovingly through my mind.

I heard movement beside me and opened my eyes to see Clint standing next to me, so close his right side almost touched my wounded left side. He had pulled Rhiannon with him and he still held her tightly by the wrist. She wasn't struggling, though, but stood quietly beside him. The thought struck me how strange the three of us must look, Clint flanked by two mirror images.

I looked questioningly at Clint. His eyes were filled with deep sadness and resolve. It frightened me.

“This is my choice, Shannon. Never forget that—I do this willingly.”

Before I could question him he turned to Rhiannon. His voice was deep and soothing.

“I can't leave you alone here. You know that.” His voice made the words an endearment. “That's what went wrong to begin with. You were left alone too often, and there was no one to really guide you.”

Rhiannon didn't answer him, but her eyes widened and her head made a jerky, nodding “yes” motion.

Clint smiled kindly at her. “I won't leave you, or our daughter, alone again. Ever.”

Then he turned back to me. “I understand now. Remember you asked me to pity her? But it's not pity she needs. It's compassion. She needs to be cared for, to be watched and kept safe somewhere she can't hurt others or herself, including the child she carries. She is, after all, just a broken part of you.” He touched my cheek. “How can I help but love her, Shannon my girl?”

Clint's hand dropped from my cheek and it reached into the deep pocket of his down-filled coat. When it reappeared it held Rhiannon's stiletto.

“Clint?” I asked, unable to keep the fear from my voice.

“Shush,” he said quietly. “It's all decided.”

He pulled Rhiannon close to him, letting go of her wrist to loop his arm around her shoulders so he could press her firmly against his side. In one quick movement he reached up and brought the blade to rest against the soft flesh just under his left ear. Before I could move he slashed downward, slicing the skin of his neck and the two major arteries that lay so close to the surface there.

“Clint!” I screamed. My mind rebelled, not wanting to believe what he had just done.

He dropped the blade and pressed his now-empty right hand against the side of the tree. His head fell forward and his forehead rested against the trunk. Blood pulsed down Clint's body, covering Rhiannon and him like a crimson cloak. She was sobbing wildly and trying to wriggle out of his iron grasp. I moved to touch him but his eyes froze me in place.

“Don't,” he croaked. “This must be.”

I saw his eyes close and his aura pulsed wildly. He took a tremendous rattling breath. When his mouth opened, two words came out in a deafening shout that echoed from one world to another.

“CLANFINTAN, COME!”

The moss-covered bark beneath my bloodless palms quivered. I watched as Clint pushed forward and the tree swallowed part of his left shoulder and Rhiannon's struggling body. With a Herculean effort he managed to turn his head so that our eyes met. His face was colorless except for spatters from the river of red that pumped in a thick torrent from his neck. His hand shook as beckoned to me.

“Come,” his mouth formed the soundless word.

I grasped his already cold hand and allowed him to pull me within the tree.

All sounds ceased and time suspended. It was as if we had plunged under a deep layer of water. Clint struggled forward,
leaving a trail of blood in his wake, pulling the two of us with him. I couldn't breathe and I couldn't think. Panic shrouded me.

Think of ClanFintan!
The Goddess's voice was a rope to which I clung. Instantly I obeyed her.

I made myself block out the gruesome sight of Clint and Rhiannon. I ignored the stabbing pain in my side and the suffocating weight that pressed in on me. I thought of my mate. His scent and the taste of his hot skin. His ready laugh and the way he tempered his strength with gentleness. I thought of the fact that he was the father of my unborn child.

And the thick darkness in front of me began pulsing with the blue of glistening sapphires. But the color wasn't coming from Clint. He was no longer in front of me, nor was he holding my hand.

I looked over my shoulder. Both of Clint's arms were wrapped around Rhiannon's body. She was facing him and he was pressing her against his body as if they were lovers. I watched Rhiannon's arms come slowly up and wrap themselves around his shoulders as she returned his embrace. Blood surrounded them, but instead of dimming his aura the crimson mixed with the pulsing sapphire until it created a new color. Purple—a deep, brilliant purple. I felt a start of recognition. It was the color that framed my silver aura.