Elphame's Choice (8 page)

“Cuchulainn, this is our new Healer, Brenna.”

“Well met, Lady Brenna,” Cu said, bowing his head courteously.

“I thought the two of you should be introduced. I already told Brenna how accident prone you are,” Elphame said, smiling warmly at Brenna, who seemed to be totally engrossed in studying her feet.

“I would be pleased to give aid wherever it is needed,” Brenna said. Her voice was barely above a whisper, and Elphame had to strain to hear her.

“As I said before, it was Brenna’s idea to perform a cleansing ceremony.” Elphame’s eyes swept through the little group of women, including them in her words. “And we thought it an excellent idea.”

The women spoke bright, chattering agreement with Elphame, but she noticed that her brother was still looking intently at Brenna.

“Are you a shaman, Brenna?” Cuchulainn asked abruptly.

Reluctantly, Brenna pulled her eyes up and looked directly at the handsome young warrior. “No, Cuchulainn, I am not,” she said with the same whispering voice. “But I do have some knowledge of the Spirit World, and I am familiar with the rituals which evoke its blessing.”

“Good. I think it wise that we call upon the spirit realm to aid my sister in restoring MacCallan Castle,” he said intently.

Elphame blinked in surprise. What was he saying? Cu hated any mention of the spirit realm—it always made him uncomfortable. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Cu, are you feeling well?”

Before he could answer, Meara and her group of women
burst through the entrance. Their arms and skirts were soaked, but they were carrying two freshly cleaned containers that sparkled with water. When they saw Cuchulainn, they stopped and dropped into hasty curtseys, giggling as water sloshed onto the ground.

Cu grinned at the women. “How could I not be well, surrounded by such lovely faces?”

Now he sounded like himself. Elphame shook her head at him and told him to hush, but she made a mental note to ask him later about his sudden desire for spiritual backup.

“You can leave now, Cu.” She shooed him off before turning to the Healer. “Brenna, what do we need to do?”

“Take the basil and crush it into the water.” As she explained the ceremony, her voice grew from the halting, whispering tone in which she had spoken to Cuchulainn to the clear, confident voice of the Healer Elphame was already beginning to respect. “Each woman should be a part of this. Each of you take some of the basil leaves and smooth them into the water, and as you do so, concentrate on all of the wonderful things you would like your new home to hold.”

Brenna beckoned to Meara, who was standing closest to the containers. A little nervously, the housekeeper picked up a sprig of basil, then she bent and immersed it into the cool, fresh water crushing the lime-colored leaves and gently swirling the water.

“Good,” Brenna encouraged.

“It’s soft and cool, and it smells wonderful,” Meara told the rest of the women. Without further hesitation, Wynne, Ada and Colleen grabbed pieces of the little plants, and soon the bucket and the crock were surrounded by smiling women up to their elbows in green-tinged water.

“Close your eyes,” Brenna told them, “think about your dreams for your new home—your hopes and desires for your future—think of what you wish for…what you long for.”

As one, they closed their eyes and Elphame watched the women’s faces grow faraway. Satisfied smiles tilted their lips.

“We must join them, my Lady,” Brenna said.

Elphame nodded and she and the Healer each chose a sprig of basil. Elphame approached the crock, which was already well crowded with concentrating women. She squeezed in between Meara and Caitlin. No one gasped or shrank away from being in such close proximity with her. The women were so engrossed in their own thoughts that no one even seemed to notice her. It was nice, she thought, really nice to feel just like everyone else—even if it was only for a short time. Elphame closed her eyes and thrust her hand into the water, crushing the basil against her palm.

And all at once she could hear the silent desires of the women surrounding her. It was like the water was a conduit for their thoughts and dreams, and all of them emptied into her. Elphame held her breath, savoring each desire as it flooded through her.

Please bring my home happiness…. Let me know the joy of a good husband…. More than anything I want children…. Please let me never be hungry…. I want to always be safe…. I want to be accepted for who I am….

Their pleas washed through Elphame in a rush of emotions and she held them close to her heart and cherished them. Then she added her own desire, and almost without even being aware of it, Elphame’s thoughts shifted from her constant plea to fit in and be normal. For the first time the desire that was foremost in her heart was not one that focused solely on herself.

Please let all who enter MacCallan Castle find it a safe haven and help me to be a wise and understanding leader.

“Now the rest of the ceremony must be completed by you, Goddess,” Brenna said. Her confident voice rippled through
the group of women, breaking the spell of thoughts that Elphame had been absorbing. They opened their eyes, blinking as if to reorient themselves after awaking from pleasant dreams, then they stood, wiping green-speckled hands on their skirts and looking expectantly at Elphame.

She felt a horrible shiver of trepidation. She had assumed Brenna would lead them in the ceremony, as she had in the preparations. El had never performed any type of ritualistic magic. Even during her education at the Temple of the Muse she had avoided the training that involved spellwork and the invocation of any deities. She knew that the other students had gossiped amongst themselves about her strange avoidance and that they all had assumed it was because she was so powerful that she need not have mortal guidance when she communed with the spirit realm. The people expected that she would follow her mother as Epona’s Chosen—that she, as her mother and great-grandmother before her, would reign as the spiritual leader of Partholon. Just the thought made Elphame feel ill because, unfortunately, the truth was far from what they believed. Though she had longed for it, she had never felt any stirrings of magic—not from spirits, nor from the gods, and especially not from Epona. It would avail her nothing to study magic. She had no magic beyond that of her physical abnormalities.

Until she entered MacCallan Castle and the spirits of the stones had welcomed her, she corrected herself. Things were different here. MacCallan Castle was a new beginning for all of them. That did not mean that she would be forced to take up her mother’s mantle; it meant that she had finally found where she belonged. Pushing aside insecurities that had haunted her for years, she met Brenna’s eyes.

“What must I do?” Elphame asked.

“We will need to carry the containers to the entrance of the castle,” Brenna said, and the task was quickly done. She posi
tioned the containers within the newly cleared gap in the wide walls, and told Elphame to stand between them, facing outward. The other women were to stand just outside the entrance. “Now, you must call on each of the four elements in their turn—air, fire, water and earth. Ask them to cleanse this castle and fill it with protection as you scatter the herb-scented water to each of the four corresponding directions. There are no set words for you to recite, instead speak from your heart. We will follow your lead, Goddess.” Thus saying, Brenna turned her back to Elphame and motioned for the rest of the women to do so, too. All of them were facing the east.

East…Elphame thought frantically. East was the beginning direction for all spellwork and for all circle casting. Its element was air—she knew that much, as did any half-grown Partholonian child. And east was the direction the castle faced. She drew in her breath with the realization. It must be a good omen.

She closed her eyes, settled her thoughts, and sent up a heartfelt prayer to a real Goddess.
Epona, if you can hear me, I don’t ask that you speak to me as you do to my mother
—
I don’t expect that. I just ask that you help me not to disappoint these women, and help me to honor the spirits I have just today begun to feel. Please give me the right words for the blessing and protection of our new home.

She could do this, she promised herself as she opened her eyes and bent to cup the first handful of herb-filled water.

Looking out to the east she raised her hands in front of her and let the fragrant, grass-colored water slide from her fingers.

“I call upon you, Power of Air, to witness this rite. You are the element we encounter upon birth as we draw our first breaths. I ask that you fill MacCallan Castle as it is reborn and scatter any negative forces from it. Breathe within its walls protection and peace.”

Suddenly a breeze ruffled Elphame’s long hair. It twisted
playfully around her, catching the falling drops of water and making them appear to dance on the wind, clearly showing Elphame that her words had been heard and accepted. Elphame’s answering smile was filled with stunned joy.

After the wind died she took a deep breath and turned to her right so that she was facing south—the direction of the element fire. The group of women followed her, turning to face south, too. She cupped another handful of water and held it out before her.

“I call upon you, Power of Fire, to witness this rite. It is from you that we draw warmth, light and energy. Your strength has already purified MacCallan Castle. I ask that you continue to guard it and us as we make it our new home.”

As she spoke, she felt the sun’s rays flash on her and it seemed that the magically enhanced warmth of it reached into her very soul.

Elphame and the women turned to the right again. She filled her hands with water.

“I call upon you, Power of Water, to witness this rite. You are present in our bodies as tears, milk and blood. You fill us and sustain us. Wash MacCallan Castle of the ancient pain of the past. Cleanse it and guard it with the joy of the present as it stands, ever watchful, above your shore.”

The sound of the distant waves breaking against the cliff suddenly swelled and echoed with deafening intensity throughout the castle walls.

When the sound receded Elphame turned again, facing to the north and the element earth, completing the circle.

“I call upon you, Power of Earth, to witness this rite. You stabilize and shelter us. We feel your spirit in the very stones of this castle. I ask that you use your vast power to reject any lingering negative energy, and that you protect MacCallan Castle with the strength of new growth coupled with ancient wisdom.”

The grass on which they stood rustled like a giant hand had just passed over it and the air surrounding them was filled with the rich fragrance of a bountiful harvest.

Then, acting on impulse, Elphame bent one more time. She cupped her hands and as she tossed the water high into the air directly above her, she said in a clear, joyful voice, “And I call upon you, Epona, to witness this rite and to gift MacCallan Castle, our new home, with your blessing and your protection.”

The droplets of water exploded around Elphame like liquid stars and the women erupted into cheers.

“Come!” Brenna cried, hurrying to one of the containers of basil water. She dipped her hands and smiled her lopsided smile at the women. “Let us baptize our new home.” So saying, she splashed the handful of water so that it rained against the ancient stones. Soon all the women were laughing and shrieking with joy as handfuls of softly scented water playfully washed away the last of their fears.

Hidden within the little grove of trees closest to the castle’s entrance, Cuchulainn watched the women. The cleansing ritual had been powerful—that was easy to see. He could hardly believe that it was his sister who had spoken the words and invoked such an obvious, elemental response. But he had to believe it; he had borne witness to it. And the power within him—the power that he constantly had to repress in order to control—had leaped in response to her magical rite which had clearly been infused with the blessing of Epona. He had felt the cleansing, as well as the invisible walls of protection that Elphame had suddenly erected in a magical circle which encompassed MacCallan Castle.

He had thought briefly that perhaps he was feeling the psychic residue of Epona’s anger at the Fomorian invaders.
Over a century ago the war had begun with the slaughter of the MacCallan Clan, an act that had so inflamed Epona that the Goddess’s Chosen had rallied the people of Partholon. Centaurs and humans had joined together to defeat the demonic horde. Was that why Epona had touched his sister’s ritual? To show the Goddess’s approval of rebuilding MacCallan Castle? Was it as simple as that?

No. He knew that there had been more—something else had been present during his sister’s ritual. And try as he would, he could not understand what it was. It was elusive, but he knew what it reminded him of. It was much like the Feeling he had experienced during his vision of Elphame’s lifemate. It was dark. It was waiting. And it was here.

Cuchulainn was here, too, and he would protect his sister from harm. Even if that harm should come from one whose destiny it was to love her.

His hand rested on his claymore and his face was grim as he turned from the women and the castle. Ever vigilant, his warrior’s eyes searched the forest that surrounded them, seeking the source of that which he feared would break his sister’s heart.