Elphame's Choice (5 page)

“A grove or two far enough away from the castle walls shouldn’t hurt anything.” He relaxed a little and smiled at her, surprised she had given in so easily. “And your blackberries can remain. They hold more thorns than protection for an enemy.”

“Good, then we will have blackberry cobbler after all!” She smiled back at him, relieved that he sounded more like his playful self. Cu was probably just being ultracareful and overprotective of her, as usual.

The road curved gently to the left. When it straightened they found themselves standing less than fifty feet from the front entrance of the castle. The massive iron doors that legend still remembered as having never been barred to guests were gone. They had rusted and disintegrated. Elphame could see fragments of their remains lying amidst a tangle of weeds and vines. Only the jagged frame of the great entryway remained, giving the break in the thick walls the look of a mouth that was missing its front teeth.

The walls themselves were surprisingly intact, or at least what could be seen of them from their frontal view looked fairly sturdy and solid. Some balustrades were crumbling, and there were no archer’s ramps. The parts of the roofing that had been made of wood were gone, but the skeleton of the castle remained standing, strong and proud.

“It looks better than I thought it would.” Cuchulainn broke the stillness of the waiting air.

“It’s perfect.” Elphame’s voice was filled with barely suppressed excitement.

“El, it is in better shape than I expected it to be, but it’s still a ruin!” He was exasperated with her blind optimism. Not only was it a ridiculous attitude in the face of the rundown edifice in front of them, but it was totally unlike the sister he knew. Before he could say more she put out her hand, lightly touching his arm.

“Don’t you Feel it?” Her voice was hushed.

Cuchulainn started in surprise. Although his sister had been physically touched by the Goddess, she had never exhibited any special link to Epona or the magical realm of spirits. Actually, except for her unique body, Elphame had no powers that attached her to the spirit realm at all. Her brother watched her closely.

“What do you mean, El?”

Her eyes never left the castle, but her hand still rested on his arm and he could feel the tremor that passed through her body. His horse stood suddenly very still. The gentle breeze had quieted; even the birds were preternaturally silent.

“It’s calling me.” His sister’s voice sounded very young. “Not with words, but I can Feel it.” She tore her eyes from the castle to look searchingly at her brother. “It’s like the first time Mama had to perform a moon ritual at another Temple. Remember?” She rushed on before he could answer. “She had never really been away from us before, not for that long, and she was gone five nights. When she finally came home we called her name and rushed to meet her before she could even get to the Temple stairs. She hugged us and kissed us and laughed through her tears. Do you remember?” she asked again.

Cu nodded his head and smiled. “I remember.”

Elphame’s gaze was drawn back to the castle. “That’s the Feeling it’s giving me,” she whispered. The magic that filled her words traveled up her brother’s spine causing the hair at his nape to stand on end. “It’s been waiting all this time for me to come home.”

“I CAN’T WAIT
to see the rest of it.” Elphame shook herself from her happy trance and started determinedly forward.

“Not without me, you’re not.”

Cuchulainn dismounted quickly and looped the gelding’s reins over the nearest tree. He jogged to her side and as they approached the burnt-out doors the sound of his claymore being unsheathed was deadly music in the morning’s stillness.

Elphame stopped and frowned at the sword. “Do you really think that is necessary?”

“I would rather err on the side of safety than of foolishness.”

She planted her hands on her hips and looked down her regal nose at him. “Are you saying I’m foolish?”

“No.” He smiled, pleased that she was reacting more like the El he knew. “I’m saying that I’m
not
going to be.”

She wrinkled her nose at him before striding toward the entrance.

“You are stubborn and hardheaded,” Cuchulainn yelled, grinning at her when she glared over her shoulder at him. “But that’s part of what I like about you.”

“Hush and catch up with me. I’m sure there’s some maniacal squirrel lurking within from which I need to be protected because I’m so very helpless….” She pretended a maidenly swoon, in the middle of which she leaned forward and bunched her powerful leg muscles, purposefully sprinting ahead of her brother so that he was breathing hard and muttering to himself about her being half-horse and definitely not helpless when he finally caught up with her.

She was waiting for him, standing silently just outside the castle’s entrance. Weeds and vines had overgrown the space where the great doors had once rested, so that brother and sister had to hack a small path before they could force their way through. Elphame was the first to step within the confines of the walls. Her brother followed closely.

The tangle of weeds ended once they were within the castle’s walls. They were in a spacious area between the outer walls and the beginning of the castle proper.

Cuchulainn glanced curiously around. To either side were the remains of what was once a sentry walk that must have stretched all along the castle’s massive walls. Cu frowned. Too bad MacCallan hadn’t posted lookouts there.

“Look, Cu, I’ll bet there were beautiful wooden doors here once.” Elphame’s voice was hushed, like she’d entered a church.

Cuchulainn followed her through another gap in smaller, inner walls and they entered what had obviously been a grand courtyard. The floor was covered with debris and layered with filth and time, but here and there could still be glimpsed patches of the smooth stone that had held the muffled tread of the Clan MacCallan for decades. Huge pillars of carved stone ringed the area, rising up to meet what was once a
vaulted ceiling, but was now open to the brilliance of the morning sky. The massive pillars still bore the black scars of the fire that had been the death of the castle.

Elphame swallowed past the dryness in her throat. “Do you think we’ll find any—” she paused and met her brother’s gaze “—remains of the warriors?”

“I shouldn’t think so. It’s been a long time. What the fire didn’t consume, time and the elements surely would.” Still, just the thought made him peer suspiciously at some of the more obscure mounds of leaves and dirt.

“But if we do find any trace of the MacCallan warriors, we must give them a proper burial. They would approve of that.” Elphame spoke with quiet surety.

“Can you Feel them, El?” her brother asked.

“The warriors?”

He nodded.

She stood very still, cocking her head as if she were trying to listen for a voice in the wind.

“Wait, I cannot be certain.”

Slowly she moved to the centermost of the blackened pillars, which was so broad that brother and sister couldn’t have touched fingertips if they had stood around its base, arms outstretched. That close, Elphame could see that the pillar had been intricately carved in a circular pattern of interwoven knots that linked together to form lovely designs filled with birds and flowers and rearing mares. Even through the layers of soot and filth the beauty of the workmanship was obvious.

“You must have been something to see,” Elphame whispered to the pillar.

Instantly a strange answering hum throbbed through her body.

“Oh!” she gasped.

“What is it, El?” In two strides Cuchulainn was beside her, claymore gripped tightly in his strong hand.

She spared him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad.” Then she refocused her attention on the pillar. “I can Feel something here—in this stone.”

While she studied it Elphame suddenly became aware of a sentience. It was a listening presence.
It’s where the humming comes from,
she thought. Ignoring her brother’s restless watchfulness, Elphame placed her slender hands against the timeworn column. As her flesh met stone it seemed like the surface of the column quivered. In silent wonder, she caressed it. For a moment the massive column appeared to liquefy under her palms, almost as if her touch somehow made the stone claylike and malleable. Then her hands and the section of the column she touched began to shimmer, and the radiance moved up her arms in a rush of warmth to surround her body. She was filled with an astonishing sensation, like she had been immersed in a warm pool of emotion, or had been wrapped securely within her mother’s embrace. Elphame’s hands shook—not from fear, but from the sheer beauty of it.

“Oh.” Her breath came out in a rush. “Oh, yes! I can Feel them.” Her face beamed with emotion.

“It is not the warriors you Feel, Goddess.” The deep voice came from behind them, splitting the silence like a hot knife through snow.

Cuchulainn moved with blurring speed to take a stand between his sister and the intruder, claymore before him held at the ready.

“Danann! That is an excellent way to be assured that you do not die quietly in your sleep from old age, Stonemaster.” Cuchulainn’s hand shook from unused adrenaline as he sheathed his sword, but the old centaur paid little attention to the warrior. His gaze was focused on Elphame, as was hers on him.

“If I am not Feeling the spirits of the warriors, then what is it that I Feel?” she asked.

At the sound of his voice, Elphame had broken contact with the pillar, but her hands still tingled with the residue of the stone’s warmth. Now she waited expectantly for Danann’s answer. All of Partholon knew that Epona had gifted the centaur with a special affinity for the earth. The spirits of nature spoke to him through stone, which was why Elphame had requested that the Stonemaster join the team to rebuild MacCallan Castle, even though at his advanced age he was more inclined to nap in the sun than to erect temple walls. But he remained the most revered stonemason in Partholon. He could hear spirits within stones, so he could literally choose the perfect stone for each building. With the renowned centaur Stonemaster to guide the renovations, she could be sure that what she rebuilt would stand harmoniously for centuries.

The centaur approached Elphame and the column that stood behind her with an energetic stride that belied his years. He studied the stone at first without touching it. When he spoke his voice had a dreamy, faraway sound.

“This is the great central column of MacCallan Castle. Once it was the strength of the castle.” He smiled at her. “It is the spirit of the stone you Feel—the very heart of the castle itself—not the spirits of dead warriors.”

Gently, he raised his hand and placed it against the column. “Touch it again, Goddess. You have nothing to fear.”

“I’m not afraid of it,” Elphame said quickly. Without hesitation she placed her smooth, unlined hand beside the centaur’s age-creased one. Danann closed his eyes in concentration.

The glow began beneath her palm and it spread quickly to encompass both Elphame and Danann. Again, a surge of Feeling washed through her. She was ready for it and she concentrated, trying to sift through fragments of emotions that were almost spoken.
Joy
—she caught the word as happiness
engulfed her….
Peace
—Elphame wanted to laugh aloud…
An end to waiting
—the phrase flitted playfully through her mind. Then the glow faded, leaving Elphame breathless and giddy.

“I knew it! I Felt it as I stepped within these walls,” the old Stonemaster shouted. He turned his head so that when he opened his eyes their clear, blue depths reflected her face.

“You are attuned to the heart of this castle, Goddess. The stones themselves welcome you. They rejoice that their mistress has arrived.” His smile was rich with warmth. “Like your ancestress, Rhiannon, you have the ability to hear the spirits of the earth.”

“Not until now I haven’t! Not until I came here!” she cried joyously. Magic! She had finally been gifted with more than a physical aberration.

Impulsively, Elphame placed her hand over the hand Danann still pressed against the column and squeezed gratefully. Almost instantly she was sorry she had followed her impulse. Except for members of her family, she made it a point never to touch others. One of her earliest memories was of an incident involving the daughter of a visiting clan chieftain. The adults had been busy discussing whatever it was adults discussed. Young Elphame had become bored and had taken the opportunity to tap the arm of the Chieftain’s daughter—she’d been trying to get her attention quietly so that the two of them could sneak off and play. The child had shrieked at Elphame’s touch, screaming that the Goddess had marked her and that she was surely going to die. No amount of cajoling could dissuade the little girl from her hysterics. The clan chieftain had left hastily, casting fearful glances at Elphame—even after Etain had assured him that Epona was not interested in the life of her daughter.

Earth spirits might speak to her and the stones welcome her, but mortals did not like being touched by a living goddess.

With a little gasp, Elphame tried to take her hand from
Danann’s before he could shrink from her touch, but instead of allowing her to pull away from him, Danann turned his palm up and clasped her hand within his.

“The spirits of the stone tell me that this is where you belong.”

Elphame felt her face flush. “For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to bring MacCallan Castle back to life,” she blurted. “Thank you for joining us here, Danann. Your presence means much to me.”

“I am honored to be of service to you, Goddess,” he said simply, squeezing her hand before releasing it.

He did not pull away from her in fear or bow down before her in stunned reverence.

It’s like she was just an ordinary clan chieftain asking for his help
. The thought was so unexpected that Elphame blinked in surprise, and turned quickly to her brother to hide her awkwardness.

“Cu, can you believe that I can Feel the spirit in the stones?”

“Of course I believe it.” He smiled at his sister, glad that she looked so happy and animated—almost glad enough to forget how disconcerting it had been to watch the magical glow of the stone engulf her. He had to remember that it was different for her. He was a warrior; he wanted no traffic with things he couldn’t best with the stroke of a blade, but Elphame had never felt his unease for magic and the spirit realm. Though she spoke little of it, even to him, Cu knew that his sister had always yearned for a spiritual connection to the Goddess who had so obviously fashioned her body. Elphame was the firstborn daughter of the Chosen of Epona. It was never a certainty, but often the Goddess called the eldest daughter of an aging Chosen to follow her mother as spiritual leader of Parthalon. Epona could be grooming Elphame for the day she would take her mother’s place. It was the way of the world, Cu reminded himself. He shook off his trepidation and ap
proached Danann, clasping the old centaur’s hand in a warm greeting.

“I believe I am better at hearing spirits than I am at surprising a warrior guarding his sister,” Danann said wryly.

“Oh, I would say you did a good job of surprising me,” Cuchulainn said.

“Cu has been twitchy since last night. Just ignore him,” Elphame said as she butted her shoulder against her brother’s, grinning at him.

Cuchulainn ignored El’s teasing. “Did you come alone, Danann?”

The Stonemaster shook his head and gestured toward the weed-strewn entrance. “No, I joined the rest of your party as they left Loth Tor. They chose to wait outside the walls of the castle. They were not overeager to enter.” He shrugged his shoulders and smiled. “The young are often easily frightened by little more than bedtime stories and shadows.”

Elphame felt a rush of gratitude for the centaur’s commonsense attitude. “And isn’t it just like
young
men.” She gave her brother a look of sisterly annoyance, lumping him in the ne’er-do-well category. “Instead of getting busy they stand about waiting to be told what to do.”

With practiced flair Danann bowed to her, bending one silver-tipped foreleg, while extending the other. Offering his arm in an old courtly gesture, he said, “Then, Goddess, shall I escort you so that you might give the young some direction before they waste their lives in idleness?”

Elphame hesitated. Was she really going to touch someone outside her family twice in one day? She looked from the old centaur’s gallantly offered arm to her brother. Cuchulainn winked at her and nodded. She took a deep breath and rested her hand on the Stonemaster’s forearm. Her fingers trembled only a little.