From Ciara’s palms silver sparks rained, setting the pyre to flame with a glorious white light that caused Brighid to shield her eyes from its brilliance. Gasps of awe sounded from the watching crowd as the fire burned high and bright. As it consumed Niam’s body Brighid felt the healing heat that radiated from the pyre. It lifted the chill from that sad place within her soul that had been so dark and cold since the raven had shrieked at her in her mother’s dying voice.

She looked at Cu. He pulled his eyes from the blaze and met hers.

“We’ve honored death. Are you ready to take the next step with me and honor life?” she asked the warrior.

“I’ve had enough of death, my beautiful Huntress.” He pitched his voice so that the words were for her ears alone. “I am more than ready to honor life.”

Her tense expression softened just a little. “Thank you, Cuchulainn.” She looked from him to his mother, but as was usual with Epona’s Beloved, few words were needed for her to understand.

“You want it to be here and now,” Etain said.

“We do.” Brighid nodded.

“Then let us make it so.” Etain stepped forward, replacing Ciara before the blazing fire. The instant the Beloved of Epona raised one slender hand the crowd became absolutely silent.

“Today death has been purified by flame and prayer. Now we will celebrate the full circle of life through the purity of the sacred handfast ritual. Cuchulainn and Brighid, please come forward.”

The crowd stirred with a surprised rustle as the warrior and Huntress joined Etain.

Etain smiled. She spoke directly to the two of them, but she projected her voice so that it carried across the castle grounds.

“You begin a long journey today. In some ways it is a journey familiar and ancient-the joining of two who love and pledge themselves together. And in some ways you begin the quest for something totally new and unique-a love that is built more on spirit than body, and depends upon courage as well as the cooperation of the Otherworld for its consummation.” Her smile grew and warmed. “You already know that you have Epona’s blessing. Know that you have mine, too.”

She nodded to her son and the warrior turned to face Brighid. He held his hands out to her, and without hesitation she pressed her palms against his. Their eyes met and held.

“I, Cuchulainn MacCallan, do take you Brighid Dhianna, in handfast this day. I agree to protect you from fire even if the sun should fall, from water even if the sea should rage and from earth even if it should shake in tumult. And I will honor your name as if it were my own.” His deep voice was strong and true.

“I, Brighid Dhianna, do take you, Cuchulainn MacCallan, in handfast this day,” Brighid began, wondering at the fact that her voice sounded so calm when everything inside her was shaking. “I agree that no fire or flame shall part us, no lake or seas shall drown us and no earthly mountains shall separate us. And I will honor your name as if it were my own.”

“So has it been spoken,” Cuchulainn said.

“So shall it be done,” Brighid said the words that completed the ritual.

Cuchulainn pulled gently on her hands so that she took a step closer to him. Before their lips met he murmured, “Now we’re truly in it together, my beautiful Huntress.”

The youthful cheer that sounded as they kissed caused them to start and break apart. All of the New Fomorian children were shouting and clapping and jumping around with much rustling of wings and waving of arms.

“Children…” Brighid sighed and shook her head, though she couldn’t keep the smile from her face. “They can never be still.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Cu said, sliding his hand in hers again. “May the Goddess bless them.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Clan MacCallan was definitely not as enthusiastic in their reaction to the handfast as the children. They weren’t rude. They didn’t withdraw from the new couple-congratulations were duly given. The right sounds and motions were made, but Brighid noticed that few Clan members would actually meet her eyes. She was the only female MacCallan centaur, but several males had joined the Clan. None of them spoke to her, although she noticed that Cuchulainn approached each of them, and they did offer congratulations to the warrior-albeit with little warmth.

So it begins. Get used to it. It will be far worse with the herd.

She shuddered, not wanting to think that far ahead. The night to come was daunting enough.

Brighid drifted away from the small group that had been gathered around Cu, his sister, their parents, and Lochlan. It was easy enough to slip away. Not many of the humans were talking to her anyway. Moving with heavy steps she made her way to stand before her sister’s still smoldering pyre.

Goddess, what have I gotten myself into?

“You’re very quiet,” Cuchulainn said.

She glanced guiltily at him, not sure what to say-or what not to say.

“Tell me,” Cu said. “We’ve always been honest with each other.” His smile was quick and endearing. “Even when we didn’t particularly like each other.”

“The only reason I didn’t like you was because you were so damn arrogant,” Brighid told him.

“Me?” Cuchulainn pointed in mock innocence to his chest. “I think you have me confused with my sister.”

Brighid snorted, but she did smile at him.

The warrior-who was now her husband-took her hand. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said.

“I’m wondering what I’ve gotten myself into,” she said bluntly.

Cuchulainn laughed. “I know exactly what you mean.”

She frowned at him. “Are you sorry we did it?”

His laughter instantly sobered. “No, Brighid. I am not sorry.”

She sighed and looked down at their joined hands. “The Clan doesn’t approve.”

“I think the Clan is more surprised than disapproving. We’re doing something that’s never been done before. The only centaur and human who have ever mated are the High Shaman and Epona’s Beloved. It will take people-and centaurs-time to get used to us.”

“If they ever do.”

“Would it bother you so much if some people never approved of us?”

“Yes. More than I thought it would,” she said. “I’ve come to think of MacCallan Castle as my home, and I find that it bothers me a great deal to think of being rejected yet again.”

“They’re just surprised, maybe even shocked. I think eventually they’ll get used to us. You’ll see.”

“That’s part of the problem,” she said. “I won’t have time to see.”

“We must leave that soon?”

Brighid drew a deep breath. “Today.”

Cuchulainn opened his mouth, and then closed it. She saw his jaw tighten, but instead of arguing with her, he nodded.

“I have to-we have to,” she corrected at his sharp look. “I don’t know how much you know of the quest for the High Shaman’s Chalice…” She paused. He looked uncomfortable. He ran his fingers through his hair, and blew out a short, irritated breath.

“I know nothing about it. All my life I’ve focused on mastering things I can see…feel…best with the strength of my body or my sword. It is a frustrating irony for me that now all of my hard-won mastery seems to be of no use to me whatsoever.”

“Except for tapping into the spirits of animals, I, too, have avoided the Otherworld. As with the soul retrieval, I know little more than you of dealings with the spirit realm. The Otherworld has always meant my mother to me-and I have spent my life avoiding her dominance, so I avoided it, too. I do know something of the High Shaman’s Quest, though, because she intended for me to drink of the Chalice. She educated me, probably thinking she could tempt me with the lure of power. She failed. I would never have touched the Chalice on my mother’s terms.”

“You’ll drink of the Chalice, Brighid. But it will be on your own terms,” Cuchulainn said.