“She needs her mate,” ClanFintan said.
“Well, she’ll have him, but not until tomorrow night.” I had been preparing for the Samhain ceremony for several weeks, and I, too, was nervous about the intricate mating ritual that was supposed to insure the next three years of fertility for this land and its people. I rested my forehead against hers. “How about a ride? Think that will make you relax a little?”
Epi lipped the shoulder of my cloak and blew softly in my face. I took that for a horsey yes.
One maiden was already scrambling to strap her soft saddle blanket to her back, while another slipped an ornately detailed hackamore over her head. Even though she was unnaturally nervous, I was pleased to see she didn’t fidget or throw a typical horse fit. Epi knew what was going on, and she behaved with her usual good manners.
“Here…” ClanFintan came up behind me and offered to give me a leg up onto the mare’s back.
Epi held still until I had my seat, and then she started determinedly toward the gate in the corral, which a maiden was already opening. ClanFintan followed close behind us. I just had time to wave over my shoulder at the stable maidens and Dougal before Epi broke into her smooth canter, heading in a northerly direction.
“I guess we’re going this way.” I called over my shoulder to my husband, who was loping easily near my side. “She’s driving.” I nodded at Epi and he smiled. I could feel that she was eager to stretch her legs, so I took a deep seat, gripped her smooth sides with my thighs, leaned forward and whispered, “Let’s go, gorgeous.”
She flicked an ear back to catch my words, then I felt her stride lengthen. We entered the edge of the wooded area that framed the temple grounds, but the wide, level path that led into it didn’t cause Epi to slow, nor did it cause me to worry. She was no ordinary scatterbrained horse. She would slow when necessary, and not before. All I had to do was sit back and enjoy the ride.
The day had become cooler as it had progressed, and even though it wasn’t actually raining, a mist hung low over the land, obscuring our surroundings and giving the trees a weird, ghostly appearance. I noticed most of them had already lost their leaves, and realized, with disgust, that I had been too busy worrying about my mysterious puking sickness to appreciate what must have been a lovely show of changing leaves.
The path split ahead. I knew the left branch led to the upper vineyards, and the right branch would eventually take us to the outskirts of Ufasach Marsh. Not a pleasant place. ClanFintan and I had had to use the marsh as an escape route from the Fomorians, and it had almost cost us our lives. Unfortunately, Epi chose the right branch.
If she wanted to visit Ufasach, I’d have to exert my veto power. I did take solace in the knowledge that the beginnings of the marsh were several miles away, and I was pretty sure Epi would tire before then. And if she didn’t, I would.
ClanFintan edged up so that we were galloping shoulder to shoulder. He looked relaxed and fresh, and I knew that he could go on for hours without visibly tiring at this ground-eating pace.
“How are you feeling?” he asked without even breathing hard.
“‘I feel good!’” I sang to the tune of the old James Brown song, which made my husband roll his eyes and heave a long-suffering sigh. (I’m not really very musically inclined, although I’d like to be, so I keep trying.) Then my mind caught up to my automatic response and I realized it was true. I still had a funny, heavy feeling in the back of my throat. Kind of like you feel when you’re fighting off the flu, but my stomach was definitely better since I’d filled it with muffins. Actually, now that I knew the hormonal cause of my illness and weird imaginings, I was decidedly more relaxed and more like my only sometimes grumpy self.
“Do not wait to feel tired to stop. We should go back before you become fatigued.”
“Okay, okay.” I mimicked his eye-rolling. “I’ll be careful.”
I think he snorted at me, but his hooves covered the sound.
We rode on silently, and Epi’s rapid gallop turned into her more rolling, leisurely canter. I enjoyed the change of her gaits, which were as smooth and flawless as her liquid-silver coat. Then the rolling canter turned into a rapid trot, which I found I could only tolerate for a short time.
“Whoa,” I said without needing to pull back on the reins. Epi’s ears rotated back at the sound of my voice, and she immediately dropped out of the trot and into a brisk walk. ClanFintan looked at me with questioning eyes.
“It jiggles me too much,” I explained.
He snorted again. So did Epi.
“Just wait,” I said into her listening ears. “You’ll be in my condition pretty soon yourself.”
She didn’t say anything, but ClanFintan unsuccessfully tried to hold back a chuckle.
Suddenly, Epi surprised me by coming to an abrupt halt. Her ears were no longer cocked back listening to me, but were pointed to the right side of the path. ClanFintan had gone ahead a few paces before noticing that we had stopped, and he trotted back to where Epi stood, statue-like.
“What is she looking at?” he asked.
“Beats me.” I squinted, trying to peer through the swirling fog. “What’s up, Epi?” I asked, but the mare made no response. All of her attention was focused on a spot to the right of the path.
“The birds are silent.” ClanFintan’s voice was grim, and I heard the deadly hiss of his ever-present claymore being unsheathed. “Stay here.” His deep voice was harsh with the command.
“I don’t want to stay here by myself!” My hormones must have been acting up (again), because I couldn’t seem to stop myself from feeling very helpless. It was like I had suddenly turned into Doesn’t-Have-a-Prom-Date-Barbie.
“The mare will protect you,” he said as he crossed before us and entered the edge of the forest. “And if I tell you to move, you move.” The fog swallowed him in sticky gray and I had an uncomfortable flashback to the skittering darkness that had haunted me at my father’s tomb. I shivered and wanted to call after ClanFintan that Epi wasn’t moving, let alone protecting, but I didn’t want to mess with his concentration. Nor did I want to give whatever booger thing that might be lurking within hearing distance a clue that Epi had turned into Stone Horse.
“What the heck is out there?” I whispered to Epi, and I was encouraged when one of her ears swiveled quickly back at my words. “Booger monster?” I inquired in a conspirator’s whisper.
She didn’t answer.
“Ghost?” I asked.
She snorted, but it didn’t sound like a yes snort. It sounded like a be-quiet-and-pay-attention snort.
I sighed and waited. It had probably only been minutes, but in the middle of the fog and the forest it felt like we had been abducted by The Little People. I started to worry about the intricate aspects of time and Rip Van Winkle and…ClanFintan’s body materialized out of the fog. I breathed again.
“I found nothing threatening.” He gave Epi an exasperated look. “The mating must be affecting the mare’s judgment. A short distance from the trail there is a small clearing. A stream runs through it, and there are two ancient trees—”
“A stream!” I interrupted, feeling amazingly thirsty. “Well, if nothing’s going to eat us, I would really like a drink.” My hand moved of its own accord and rested briefly against my stomach. “Then we should probably be getting back.” I gave him an apologetic look. “I may be getting tired.”
To his credit he didn’t say I told you so. He just shook his head and turned back into the forest, motioning for us to follow him.
I clucked at Epi and squeezed lightly with my knees. For an instant I didn’t think she would obey me—she felt oddly cold and metallic between my thighs. I ran my fingers through her gleaming mane and down her taut neck, murmuring quiet endearments to her. Then I felt a ripple run through her body and she turned from iron back into horseflesh. She took a tentative step forward, then another and finally followed ClanFintan’s disappearing back away from the path and into the fog-shrouded forest.
>
Within just a few paces we suddenly ran out of trees, and entered a lovely little clearing, which was oddly free of fog, like it was an oasis of clarity in the middle of the soupy day. My attention was immediately drawn to two massive trees that stood silently in the middle of the cleared area. A ribbon of a stream ran between the giants and off into the forest away from the road. The water looked inviting and cool.
“Let’s go get a drink,” I said and kneed Epi forward, still surprised by her unusual reticence. Hesitatingly she plodded to the stream and we joined ClanFintan, who was already kneeling and drinking from his cupped hand.
“Let me help you,” he said. He moved quickly to Epi’s side and put his warm hands on either side of my waist, plucking me neatly off the mare’s back and turning me to face him. Smiling, he held me close and let my body slide slowly against his until my feet met the ground. I giggled and kissed the lower part of his chest, where his leather vest was open to reveal his muscular torso (also, where my lips came when I was standing in front of him).
“Get your drink.” His voice was rich with emotion. “I look forward to getting you back to the temple. You know, a woman who is with child should take several breaks during the day—breaks where she retires to her bedchamber to rest.” He caressed the last word, making his meaning clear.
“Will you rub my feet?” I murmured against his chest.
“Among other things.” I could hear the smile in his voice.
“It’s a deal.” I squeezed him hard and planted another wet kiss in the middle of his chest before turning to the stream. As I knelt for my drink, I looked up over my shoulder at my mare. She was standing still, like a silver statue of herself. Her ears were cocked forward. All of her attention was centered on the two massive trees that stood a little way upstream.
“Epi!” I said sharply. Her ears flicked briefly in my direction. “Come get a drink.”
She didn’t move except to turn her ears (and her attention) back to the trees. I glanced at ClanFintan, and he shrugged his shoulders, obviously as bemused by her behavior as I was. I mirrored his shrug and bent back to the stream.
The water was like liquid ice. Its sweetness reminded me of the refreshing public fountains of Rome. (Yes, I’ve led students overseas—and yes, they tried to chaperon me properly.) I drank deeply. When I’d had my fill, I settled back on my haunches, and found my gaze shifting to the trees that still held my mare’s rapt attention.
They were enormous, obviously ancient. Branches didn’t even begin until at least twenty feet up their impressive length. Something seemed odd about them for a moment, and then I realized what it was. They still had their leaves. I blinked and looked around, trying to focus into the fog-covered forest at the trees nearest to the edge of the clearing. Didn’t I remember that the other trees had already lost their leaves? Unable to see through the mist, I shifted my attention back to the two giants before me. Pin oaks—with a start the name registered in my mind as I recognized them as indigenous flora of my home state, Oklahoma. Their leaves were shaped in the familiar stilettoed points that I’d grown up raking from our front yard. Only these were still attached to the branches and the vibrant green of new algae. My eyes slid from the heavy canopy of their entwining branches, down to their massive trunks, which were covered with a carpet of thick, lily pad-colored moss. I stood abruptly. The moss seemed to give off a muffled glow, like light shining through satin fabric. It cried to be touched.
And then I felt it—a tickle of emotion, as if a feather had brushed across my consciousness. I concentrated on the trees and the flutter of feeling came again. Realization hit me. It was a feeling akin to what I’d experienced in the presence of the marble column earlier that day. I remembered that Kai had said that because I was born under an earth sign, I was linked to the earth. I felt a smile of wonder spread across my face. Maybe I could “talk” to the trees.
With that thought, I began walking eagerly forward and was interrupted by a sharp squeal from Epi. Surprised, I stopped and turned, almost running into the mare, who was practically walking on my heels.
“Epi!” I stumbled back as she butted me with her head. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Her only answer was a muffled nicker as she rubbed her head against my chest.
“Jeesh, it’s all right. I’m just going to go check out those old trees. Then we’ll start back.” I glanced over her at my husband, who was watching us with an amused look.
“She’s making me crazy,” I said. “I’ll be glad when tomorrow night’s ceremony is over and she’s herself again.”
“She does seem rather…” He paused, and I was sure he was thinking of and discarding words like paranoid, hysterical and clingy. He settled on emotional, waggling his eyebrows so that we both knew what he really meant.
I winked and smiled my agreement. Rubbing the mare’s head, I whispered endearments meant to reassure her. “Hey, sweet girl. It’s okay. Everything’s fine.” She seemed to relax. “I want to get closer to the trees,” I confided into her ear. “Kai said I could hear earth stuff, and I’d like to test his theory.”
With one last pat I turned and headed purposefully toward the trees. I could hear Epi take a few steps to follow me, but soon she stopped. I glanced back at her to see that she was standing perfectly still. As I watched, a little ripple passed through her body.
“Everything’s fine!” I said, waving gaily at the frozen mare, ignoring a twinge of concern at her bizarre behavior. Epi and I were probably sharing hormone surges. No wonder she and I were so skittish. When I turned back to the trees, all thoughts of Epi left my mind.
I was standing within touching distance of the massive oaks, and this close I could clearly feel something emanating from them. I cocked my head, listening intently.
“Rhea?” ClanFintan called questioningly.
“Shh!” I yelled without turning my head, holding up my hand to silence him.
I took another step forward. The ground sucked wetly at my riding boots, and I realized that I was almost standing in the little stream that ran between the two trees. It had narrowed here, so that it was probably only a couple of feet wide, and it tumbled musically over rounded pebbles. Stepping carefully, I straddled the stream and raised my arms, so that one of my hands could rest on the side of each tree.
As I touched the moss-covered bark, a painful jolt traveled the length of my body, like I had just touched a live wire. A blade of fear sliced through me, and I tried to pull my hands away, but they were stuck against the trees as surely as if they had been nailed to the bark. My knees began to sag, and I realized that I was falling forward, and (if the trees loosened their grip) I would tumble headfirst into the little stream. Suddenly it felt like time slowed down to pass frame by frame before my eyes. My head bent, and I saw my rippled reflection in the water. Then my reflection fractured, and I could actually see through the water. I blinked slowly, trying to clear my eyes, and abruptly my vision refocused. I could see into the stream and beyond it to the world on the other side, a world where a movement in the sky caught my attention. A shocked cry escaped my lips as I recognized the narrow metallic cylinder that passed across the distant blue horizon. An airplane. Understanding struck me. Frantically I tried once again to pull my hands from the trees, but instead of freeing me the bark of the trees had become semi-permeable, and my hands were sucked into them, followed by my wrists, elbows…and as I felt my body fall forward and dissolve into that mirror world I saw an all too familiar skittery darkness, inky with its liquid aura of evil, pulse around me—pressing, searching, attempting to engulf me…I heard the horrified shout that was wrenched from my husband echoed by Epi’s piercing neigh of panic.
I opened my mouth to scream, but unconsciousness swallowed me.
PART II
CHAPTER 1
My stomach revolted, and I felt myself being rolled onto my side while painful spasms ripped through my body. I heard something odd and whimpering, and I realized it was the sound of
my own sobs.
“It’s okay, Shannon,” a deep, familiar voice spoke soothingly. “You’re safe.”
I tried to open my eyes, but my vision was so blurred that I snapped them shut again, afraid the spinning would cause me to be even sicker. Slowly, my heaving subsided and I lay still, gulping breaths of the cool, moist air. I realized that the grass beneath my cheek was damp, and I tried once more to open my eyes and focus my vision. Between slit lids I peered blearily around me. I could see the outline of green and gray, but before it could come fully into focus a dark, shadowy shape slid across my field of vision. As the shape caught my attention, a feeling hit me—a feeling that I recognized. It wasn’t my hormones or my imagination. Evil had been stalking me. It seemed to hover closer, swallowing the shades of green and soft gray and leaving jagged shards of mixed-up color like an exit wound. I tried to open my mouth to scream.
“Shannon! Take it easy,” that same voice soothed. “Everything’s okay!”
His words seemed to have a negating effect on the colorless shadow. The dark spot dissipated, while shimmering gray ran into the green of forest leaves, tunneling my fading vision. After that I knew no more.
Consciousness flitted across my closed eyelids like lightning that illuminates the night sky but won’t leave the clouds. I lay very still, afraid to move, afraid to do anything that would cause my battered body more pain or call back the darkness I had glimpsed. I breathed slowly, trying to still the frantic, hummingbird beating of my heart.
I realized that I was no longer lying on the damp grass. I felt the softness of a well-made mattress beneath me and the thickness of a down comforter that had been pulled up to my neck. I shivered, suddenly feeling a chill that went deep within my body.
There was a rustling of feet moving toward me, then a hand rested briefly on my forehead. I could feel the calluses against my cold skin.