One small tear spilled over and ran down his cheek. “But what do I do until then?”

“If your Mistress will allow, we would be honored to have you join us at Epona’s Temple,” Etain said.

Brighid glanced up as Etain and Midhir approached. The Goddess Incarnate crouched down beside the boy and wiped a soft hand across his cheek, drying the tear.

“We have a Huntress there, too,” Etain said.

“But maybe she won’t think that I can be a Huntress. She might think I’m just a boy with wings,” Liam said, biting his lip as he tried to keep from crying.

“You are apprenticed to the MacCallan Huntress.” Midhir’s deep voice boomed from above the boy. “If anyone questions your right to follow the path of the Huntress, they will have to question me.”

Liam stared up at the massive centaur, his wide-eyed expression clearly saying that he didn’t think anyone would ever dare to question Midhir. Then his gaze turned back to Brighid.

“I’ll do what my Mistress wants me to do,” he said, and his voice shook only a little.

“I think going to Epona’s Temple is an excellent idea,” Brighid said. “Moira, the Lead Huntress of Partholon is there.” She glanced quickly at Midhir, who nodded encouragement. “I’m sure she will help you study your tracking until I call for you.” Then Brighid ruffled the boy’s hair. “And remember, Epona’s Temple borders the Centaur Plains.”

“So we won’t be too far apart?”

“No. We won’t be too far apart.”

Brighid took the boy’s hand firmly in her own and together they started to walk back to the castle.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Brighid had wanted to get on the road before midday, but the sun was beginning its path down the western part of the sky when they finally left MacCallan Castle. They took the wide, newly restored road that led from the great front gate to Loth Tor, the town that nestled at the bottom of the plateau. She and Cu spoke very little at first. Brighid set the pace. Cuchulainn rode beside her on his big gelding, leading an extra mount, who would spell his buckskin when the horse tired, as he would inevitably do. No normal horse could keep pace with a Huntress for long. And the road they had begun was going to be a long, wearying one.

Cuchulainn let Brighid pull a little ahead of him, though he kept his gelding close to the centaur’s rear flank. It had been difficult to leave MacCallan Castle. Not like the last time, when he had been so shattered from Brenna’s death that he was only going through the motions of living. It was an irony that this time his soul was healed, and he was newly married, but his departure had been much more wrenching. His sister had been stoic. There had been no weeping. El hadn’t tried to convince them to stay another night-she had understood the need for haste. But in her eyes Cuchulainn had seen the sadness that losing him again so quickly had caused. He understood it; he felt it himself. Etain had, of course, been loving and offered Epona’s blessings on them. It had been his father’s idea to take the extra horse so Brighid would not have to slow her pace. He had also suggested their initial destination-the Blue Tors.

“You’re right! I wouldn’t have thought of it, but it’s a natural physical entry to the Underworld,” Brighid had said with more animation than she’d shown since they had separated at her sister’s pyre.

His father had nodded and given her what Cu thought of as his Shaman look-one that was serious as well as kind. “But beware, Brighid. You will not find the Chalice in the Underworld. It will be in an upper level of the spirit realm.”

“But all of the spirit realms are interconnected,” the Huntress had said.

Midhir had nodded again. “They are. Just remember that…” His voice had trailed off and he’d sighed in frustration as he checked his impulse to aid the centaur. “I should not say more, though I wish I could give you more guidance.”

“I understand,” Brighid had quickly assured him. “I-” She hesitated only a moment before adding, “Cuchulainn and I must discover our own way. This does help us, though. It gives us a clear direction in which to travel, rather than just aiming toward the Plains and praying that we somehow find the Chalice along the way. I appreciate it.”

Cuchulainn frowned as he thought back to their departure. It had been heart-wrenchingly obvious that Brighid had been holding her emotions in tight check. She and his sister had whispered only a few parting words to one another and embraced. She had hardly spoken to Etain. But he’d seen the pained look on his new wife’s beautiful face when they finally turned away from the castle. Her usually graceful body had moved woodenly, as if her hooves had become mired in mud.

They’d passed through the little village of Loth Tor, barely hesitating to return the greetings called to them, and then the Huntress had kicked into a ground-eating canter that had Cuchulainn settling deep in the saddle and concentrating on coaxing the gelding to match. Grimly he realized that Elphame had been right when she’d insisted that Fand remain behind at MacCallan Castle. He would miss the wolf cub. She had become a part of him over the past several moons. Her presence was warm and familiar, but the wolf had become attached enough to the hybrid children, especially the little girl Kyna, that he was fairly sure that even after they untied the howling cub she would remain at the castle. At least he hoped she wouldn’t try to follow them. Fand wouldn’t catch them-or if she did, there was no way the young wolf could maintain the grueling pace the Huntress was setting. It was a pace meant to cut the time it would take to get to the Blue Tors by at least a full day. It was also a pace that was not conducive to conversation, and Cuchulainn wondered if that might not be part of the reason Brighid had chosen it.

He’d handfasted with her. She was his wife-his lifemate. Had they chosen to keep the ceremony private, between only the two of them and simply speak the words before Epona, the mating would have been legally binding for the space of one year. But he had negated that condition when he had asked the ritual to be witnessed by his mother. Handfastings presided over by the High Priestess of Partholon were lifetime bonds. Of course no two people would be forced to stay together if either or both truly wished to part from the other, but the breaking of a lifemating was rare.

He watched the beautiful Huntress pushing her pace. What was she thinking? Just the thought of losing his sister and his mother in the space of one day chilled him to his marrow. Should he try to get her to talk about it? He thought of how he felt after Brenna had been killed. He’d refused to speak of her. He’d run away from his memories of her. But he’d also been broken…shattered. Brighid was whole. So wouldn’t she need to vent? To remember?

His thoughts had so totally eclipsed his concentration that Cu’s mind didn’t register the darkening of the sky or the slowing of Brighid’s pace, until his gelding broke from their steady canter into a jarring trot. Reorienting himself, Cu nudged the big horse up beside the Huntress.

Brighid glanced over at him. “It’s almost full dark. I thought we should start looking for a place to camp.” She hesitated, not meeting his questioning gaze. “Or we could just slow our pace and keep going. The road is wide and well-marked. Maybe we’ll come to a village. I traveled up from the Centaur Plains on this road, but my trip was…” Her eyes narrowed in painful remembrance. She hadn’t allowed herself to think during the hasty trip from her old life. She’d pointed herself toward the promise of a future and not let anything get in her way. Now she was heading into another future, only this one was filled more with pain and danger than promise and contentment.

“It’s fine, Brighid.”