“This?” Ciara asked.

“The herbs the children have been tending,” Elphame said, pointing at the fragrant pile.

Ciara’s forehead wrinkled as her brows drew together. “Have the children done something wrong? They’re usually so good with plants I didn’t think they would cause any problem in the kitchen’s gardens. But if they’ve harmed something I will see that-”

“They dinna harm the wee plants, Shaman,” Wynne blurted, interrupting Ciara’s apology. “They made them grow.”

Obviously confused, Ciara looked from the pile of herbs to the cook, and then back at the herbs. “I don’t understand.”

Only Brighid noticed that Etain had entered the room and was listening to the exchange with interest.

“Well, I donna understand either, but I do know what I see with me own eyes and touch with me own hands. In the space of the three days the bairns have been tending them, they have grown more than they would have in three weeks. The bairns made the herbs grow,” she said firmly.

“But weren’t they already growing? All the children did was water and weed them.”

“I think the children did much more than that.” Etain’s voice came from the doorway.

“Mama.” Elphame sent the High Priestess a relieved look and motioned for her to join them. “I was just going to send for you.”

Etain smiled at her daughter, but kept most of her attention trained on Ciara.

“Touch the plants, Shaman. See if they can tell you what it is Wynne already knows.”

Hesitantly Ciara placed her slender hand atop the pile of herbs. She closed her eyes and took several deep cleansing breaths. Then her mouth formed a surprised little “O” and she gasped. When she opened her eyes Brighid could see they were filled with unshed tears.

“Tell my daughters what it is you have discovered, Ciara,” Etain said.

“The children did make the plants grow! Oh, Goddess!” Overcome with emotion the winged woman bowed her head and pressed her hand against her mouth.

“Mama, what is it? What has happened?” Elphame asked.

“Epona has given the New Fomorians a great gift,” Etain said.

“They were born from death and destruction, and they have lived with madness and loss,” Ciara said through tears of joy. “And now our great Goddess has granted us the ability to nurture life.”

“It’s not just now,” Etain told the Shaman. “They’ve always had the gift-you’ve always had the gift. How do you think you were able to bring forth life and hold to love and hope and not give in to utter despair in the desolation of the Wastelands?”

“It is, indeed, a great gift,” Elphame said, taking her husband’s hand and looking into his beloved face. “And we have been richly blessed to have you here with us.”

“You are our home, my heart. There is nowhere else we would choose to be,” Lochlan said, gently touching her cheek.

“Think of what this will mean, Elphame!” Ciara gushed. “We can be useful and bring forth food, not just for MacCallan Castle, but for trade and…”

Brighid lost the rest of Ciara’s words as her spirit drifted up through the ceiling of the Great Hall and into the night sky. This time when the earth blurred as her spirit sped back to the south, Brighid’s thoughts were too preoccupied by what she had just witnessed for her head to spin and become dizzy.

Epona had given the New Fomorians the ability to nurture life from the earth. Little wonder Liam had shown such an aptitude for understanding the spirits of animals-he had been gifted with an affinity for the earth and for growing things. The leap to understanding the spirits of animals wasn’t a long one.

Brighid was glad for them. They were a people who had overcome great evil and exhibited great good. It was just that they had been given the ability to nurture, renew, and grow.

Remember when you awake, child.

The Huntress’s spirit settled back into her body and she heard Etain’s words echo from her memory. Tell my daughters what it is you have discovered… The priestess had said daughters, not daughter.

She must have known that Brighid was there. Not surprising, the Huntress thought sleepily. Etain seemed to have eyes and ears everywhere.

The Huntress slept, dreamlessly, for the rest of the night.

The enticing scent of roasting venison penetrated through the blanket of sleep, and Brighid finally opened her eyes, blinking against the bright light of midday. Cuchulainn tended a bubbling haunch of meat that he had spitted over the fire. His eyes lifted when she stirred. He watched her stretch and she saw relief soften his face.

“Good morning,” she said. “That smells wonderful.”

“Good afternoon,” he replied and used one of his throwing daggers to slice a piece of meat from the haunch and then skewer it. Smiling, he walked over to her, kissed her, and handed her the morsel. “Welcome back.”

She nibbled at the hot meat and quirked an eyebrow at him. “Are you trying to take over my job?”

“Hardly. If I were MacCallan’s Huntress the Clan would probably starve. It took me most of the morning and four arrows to bring down this one young, rather stupid deer.”

She smiled. “His lack of intelligence has definitely not adversely affected his taste.”

“Probably because he was too stupid to do much running,” he grumbled.

She laughed out loud. “See, you’re a better Huntress than you thought.”

“No, I’m not, but I did dig up some early potatoes and wild onions.” He prodded what she would have otherwise taken for rocks within the edges of the campfire with the toe of his boot. “You need to eat as much as you can today. Even I know that a journey into the spirit realm can appear to take only a few hours but turns into days.”

“So you’re not just trying to make me fat and unattractive to other men?” she said, wanting to tease the worried shadows from his eyes.

“I’m trying to keep you alive.”

“Cu, has something happened?”

“No…yes…I’m not sure,” he said, running his hand restlessly through his hair. “I’ve been uneasy since we entered the tors. And this place-” he gestured at the cave “-has my teeth set on edge.”

“But you haven’t had a specific Feeling?”

“No. And I’ve tried. I’ve listened with that other sense.” He sighed. “Nothing. I don’t know if it’s because of my ineptitude or if it’s because there’s nothing specific there.”

“Perhaps the Feeling was sent to remind you to stay vigilant.”

He started to snap at her that of course he would be vigilant-then he remembered that he hadn’t always been so. He had been prewarned of Brenna’s death and he had done nothing to prevent it.

“Perhaps…” he said. “The spirit realm is a mystery to me.” He glanced up at her and forced himself to smile. “But I do know enough about it to be certain that you are well fed before we visit there.” He carved off another hunk of meat and brought it to her.

“Visit-that sounds so much nicer than journey or quest,” she said. “I should tell you that I visited MacCallan Castle last night in my dreams.”

His eyes shot to hers. “Brenna?”

She shook her head and pushed down the jealousy that his quick look and tense tone made her feel.

“No, it wasn’t anything like the times you or Brenna came into my dreams. Last night my spirit was awake and aware. I watched myself lift out of my body and travel to MacCallan. And I heard Epona’s voice.”

“The Magic Sleep,” Cuchulainn said thoughtfully. “My mother has described it many times. It is the way Epona often communicates with her and allows her to see important events as they take place.” Then his contemplative look became alarmed. “Was everyone at the castle well?”

“Very,” she assured him. “But I do think I witnessed an important event. Apparently there’s more to the New Fomorians than their goodness and tenacity. Epona has gifted them with the ability to nurture growing things-and according to Wynne’s report-this ability allows them to hasten the growth of plants.”