Goddess Rising

by Alisha Ashton

  That conversation, however, would have to wait. She knew better than to trust anything he showed her in a dream. Brandubh had already illustrated his ability to control his surroundings there – and even her appearance. He could still present altered memories in person (she had done so herself when showing Drostan an alternate path), but she was confident that if she could put her hands on him and delve into his mind, she could distinguish truths from lies. She would need to physically be in Brandubh’s presence for that. The risk of such a meeting was not lost on her. It would require a great deal of planning to ensure her safety. After she made it back to her time, she would have to figure out all of the details. Starting with just how in the fuck she was going to convince her men to allow it.

  Trudging along up a steep hillside with the others, she sighed heavily and snagged a piece of long grass. She absentmindedly tore it into pieces as her thoughts raced in a million directions. Her mind was struggling to find answers to the multitude of new questions that kept arising and solutions to countless problems – both real and hypothetical. It was like a game of mental whack-a-mole.

  Like how was she going to fill Ciaran up with enough power to tide him over for four millennia without accidentally incinerating him? And when was she going to do it without everyone seeing? It was undoubtedly going to drain her reserves to pull off. If she waited until just before she traveled to her own time, she would still need to replenish her power before attempting the journey. So, she needed to be alone with Ciaran, away from the others, for at least a full day and night before leaving this time…

  And what was she going to do about Brandubh’s memories of her in this time? And when was she going to do it? She severely doubted that she could just take them from him against his will. He was not going to agree to surrendering his memories to Sorcha, so that just left Skye to handle that part. Clearly, she would manage to pull it off, but she was at an absolute loss as to how.

  And when would they take away everyone else’s memories of her? What if they forgot her, but then saw her again before she left? So, it would need to happen right before she left.

  And – most urgently of all, given how close they were to reaching the sacred forest – how was she going to keep her traitorous facial expressions from exposing her distrust of Sorcha the second she saw Her?

  They walked all through the day and night until, at last, reaching their destination. Skye could feel the borders of Faol Seunta long before they ever came into view. The magic called to her blood, just as she supposed it had been designed to. It was a silent summons for Sitheag and her descendants to follow. The pull of it used to comfort Skye. Now, it filled her with a sense of unease. She disliked the powerfully seductive quality of the spell – the pretty promises it made of home and belonging. The forest once seemed like a sanctuary. Skye was growing increasingly suspicious that it might actually be a cleverly-disguised trap.

  With each step that carried her closer to the forest boundary, she instinctually layered her power over herself like a second skin – creating an invisible armor to shield her from Sorcha’s influence. The Moon Goddess would sense it, she knew, but she decided she did not care. Let Sorcha feel that she was constantly on guard. Let Her know from the moment they met that Skye was her own woman. Vigilant. Fierce. Cautious. Not a pawn to be manipulated or trifled with.

  The sun was just starting to rise when they approached the tree line. Faolan’s grip on Skye’s hand had been tightening as they walked, his restlessness growing worse by the second. Each time she had asked him about it, he shrugged it off and assured her with a smile that he was simply anxious to be home. His eyes told a different story entirely. The way his gaze lingered on hers for several extra seconds conveyed that he knew his words were false.

  Once he set foot within the trees, his grip on her hand rapidly relaxed. Whatever had been causing him such distress seemed to be forgotten. Or perhaps it had been erased from his mind…

  Skye studied his reaction to the forest carefully. Faolan blinked as if refocusing on his surroundings, took a deep breath, then smiled over at her warmly as if seeing her again for the first time.

  It was Skye’s turn to tighten her grip on his hand. She thought back on Brandubh’s words. He said Faolan was ‘still ensnared by Sorcha’s spell.’ Something had been bothering Faolan. He had not put words to it. Hell, he did not even seem entirely sure of what ‘it’ was himself. Just a feeling or shadow of a thought. But now that Faolan was back within Her forest, back within Sorcha’s influence, whatever he was worried about had been smothered.

  Skye swallowed with a great deal of difficulty. She focused all of her attention on keeping her breathing and heartrate steady and her Wolf at bay. She could not do anything about this right now. She could not pursue it any further. She could not allow her violently-defensive instincts where Faolan was concerned to take over. She had to get back to her time and she could not accomplish that without Sorcha’s aid. She needed to lock this down in her mind. Box it up. Shelve it. Wrap it in chains, weigh it down, and sink it to the murky depths of her subconscious. Compartmentalize it like all of the other dark, toxic, potentially crippling shit lurking inside her head. She swore to herself, however, that she would deal with it properly when the time was right.

  “Sgitheanach…” Sorcha breathed, her voice echoing through the trees in greeting.

  Skye plastered on her most convincing smile once the Moon Goddess came into view. She replayed every bit of advice Ciaran had ever given her about the art of deception in her time. The importance of the understated performance. The danger of overcompensation when lying. Allowing her features to relax, she bowed her head respectfully and waited to be received.

  Sorcha approached in all her celestial splendor. Her long, shimmering, silver hair cascaded over her shoulders. The upper portion had been woven intricately with white flowers tucked throughout. Her flawless white gown was simple and elegant – as effortlessly feminine and beautiful as the rest of her. She studied Skye before placing a hand beneath her chin and urging her to look up.

  “My precious child,” She greeted. “How I have longed for this moment. Welcome home.” She pulled Skye into a tight embrace as the men around them dropped to their knees in reverence.

  Skye hugged her back as believably as possible, allowing her natural awkwardness over the casual contact to show. Natural, she reminded herself, that was key. There was no reason to hide this part of her personality. When she was released, she did not mask her relief.

  When they parted, Sorcha held her hand and gazed deeply into her eyes. Skye could feel her power tracing over her tentatively, wordlessly seeking the cause of Skye’s discomfort.

  Skye swallowed with considerable difficulty and shared flashes of her past in reply. The gruesome murders of her parents, her torture at the hands of the fògaraich, her reluctance to trust Taran, Taran’s dead body left as a gift by Brandubh, Sorcha reviving Taran…

  Sorcha relaxed as she considered these memories, and Skye knew she had accomplished her goals. She had successfully explained her instinctual distrusting nature, aversion to casual physical touch, and great reluctance to connect with anyone. She had also given Sorcha cause to feel confident in her unquestioning loyalty and hatred of Brandubh.

  Sorcha gave her a sympathetic smile. It faltered slightly as her gaze fell on the marking on Skye’s brow. Her eyes widened slightly at its implications.

  “Triple Goddess? She has ascended?” Sorcha asked in surprise and looked around to the faoil for confirmation.

  “Yes, Great Mother,” Eògan assured quietly.

  “Before our very eyes,” Ruarachan added in a strained voice.

  Skye kept her expression neutral.

  Taran remained entirely silent on the matter.

  Ciaran – ever in tune with Skye – held his tongue for a different reason. Refusing to be intimidated by her proximity to Sorcha, he remained at Skye’s side. He could not identify the cause of Skye’s rising (yet expertly-conceale
d) tension, but he could certainly feel its presence through their link. He knew there was a lot more going on than what Skye put to words. Secrets and fears brewed just beneath the surface. Some things she guarded vigilantly, and he was only aware of their existence due to the force with which she withheld them. Other items were barely concealed – not so much secret as they were not offered to him freely. Despite being able to, Ciaran chose not to pry in those places. Skye would tell him what he needed to know and what she was willing to share. She was free to keep her secrets as far as he was concerned. He would stand with her through anything, he knew. No matter what, she had his unwavering allegiance.

  “Sorcha,” Skye greeted. “It is so good to see you again. I trust you have seen and heard enough to know how I came to be here.”

  It was not a question. Skye realized that Sorcha was tapped into many members of the clan – some more than others, such as Faolan and Latharn. She had previously mentioned Her ability to ‘watch’ Ciaran through the eyes of his brothers… and wasn’t that just a disturbing thought now?

  Sorcha smiled and nodded. “Yes. I am deeply disappointed to learn that it is not yet your time, but it is true that you must return to where you belong. We cannot change the course of history. No matter how powerful we are, or how desperately we wish it were possible.” Her smile faded slightly as She pondered that. With a soft hmm, she blinked her eyes and refocused. “I am eager to assist in any way that I can. Ensuring your safe passage back to your time is absolutely crucial. You have much to do there. We shall start your lessons first thing tomorrow night. I so look forward to the opportunity to get to know you, my child. For now, please, settle in and rest. You have traveled so terribly far from home. You must be exhausted.”

  Skye smiled and replied, “Not overly so… but I would not say no to a comfortable place to sleep.”

  Sorcha laughed and took her hand, leading her along deeper into the forest.

  As they walked, the new-arrivals gradually intermingled with those faoil who resided permanently within the forest. Joyful greetings were exchanged as old friends reconnected. Several wandered off to answer questions and share tales of their personal experiences with Skye.

  Sorcha paused and passed Skye’s hand to Faolan before kissing her cheek. “Your temporary home lies just ahead. I will leave you to it. Sleep well, Sgitheanach. I have many things to do to prepare for our practice, but I will see you at moonrise.”

  Faolan smiled down at Skye and tugged her hand, guiding her down the forest path. It began a slight downward slope, meandering like a brook between countless rising mounded structures made of carefully stacked stone slabs and earth. Some structures were almost entirely blanketed by moss and clover, blending away into the scenery as if they had always been there.

  She smelled meat cooking and turned to see an open structure used for preparing food. A large area beside it was filled numerous long tables at which the men could gather for meals. Another open structure contained a forge and all the tools required for metal working.

  This was their village. Their home. Skye took it all in – the way her clan had lived in the beginning. So pure and close to nature. So much simpler than her time. From this side of things, she could genuinely understand Taran’s deep apprehension at living in the city.

  Faolan led her to the largest structure, located at the center of the rest. Runes were carved into the pristine stones of its exterior. The doorway was draped in white cloth. Skye smiled, knowing before even entering that this building had been created for her. Just like the section under construction back in her own time at the center of the den, she was to be kept in the most defendable location, surrounded by her pack.

  Following Faolan’s lead, she ducked her head and entered the low doorway. Warmth and a bit of smoke greeted her within. A fire in the stone hearth at the center of the structure was burning brightly. Its mostly adequate chimney was directing the smoke out through the roof. Her eyes scanned the interior, taking in the layout. A large set of stone shelves occupied the entire far wall. A stone box served as the frame for a large, fur-lined bed. She inhaled and caught the herb-like scent of the heather beneath that made up its mattress. She ran her hand across the furs. She was looking forward to trying it out.

  “Unfortunately, I am completely unaware of the accommodations to which you are accustomed,” Faolan said. “Will this dwelling be adequate? If it is not to your liking, the men will gladly build anything to your specifications – you have only to ask.”

  “This is perfect,” Skye assured with a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

  Faolan nodded in relief. “I shall leave you to settle in. Is there anything I can have brought for you? Anything at all that you require?”

  Skye took a deep breath and thought about it. “Just a quiet night, if possible? It has been a whirlwind these past few days. I have a lot to consider.”

  “Of course, my child,” Faolan said. “Take as much time as you need. After all, you are here to rest and prepare for what is to come. We are beyond overjoyed to have you with us, where we know you are safe. And you know full well that I am in no rush for you to leave,” he reminded warmly. “Ciaran will be staying with you, I gather?” he asked, smiling knowingly before quirking a brow at her constant shadow.

  Ciaran did not even attempt to appear contrite over his determination to remain by her side. He simply looked to Skye and awaited her reply.

  Skye nodded and took Ciaran’s hand in hers. “I would not be able to rest without him.”

  Faolan’s eyes narrowed and passed thoughtfully over Ciaran’s features for a moment. Finally, he laughed lightly in approval and gave Ciaran’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “Very well. Ciaran – care for my child to the best of your abilities. See to it that she stays relaxed and comfortable. Let the men know if there is anything she wants or needs. Rest well, both of you.”

  Skye watched Faolan duck his head and make his way out of the home. Ciaran slid a thick, stone slab door into place over the entry and used a metal rod to secure it in place.

  It was reflexive at this point for Skye to use her magic to form a barrier around the structure. She immediately exhaled in relief when it was in place. She wanted privacy and peace – to be certain at least in her own bed that her words and actions were not exposed to any outside scrutiny.

  Outside her temporary home, several of her clansmen exchanged surprised glances. While none of them could see Skye’s barrier, they were all acutely aware of its presence given their sudden inability to hear anything from within the structure. No heartbeats or breathing, no words or even crackling of the fire.

  Taran frowned severely. He had intended to stand guard nearby. The jarring silence made it clear that – while he could still defend her from any… admittedly unlikely… attacks – he would not be able to monitor her condition while she was within the home.

  Seeing their reactions, Faolan met each of their gazes and nodded to assure them that all was well. He could sense his child’s light and smiled in approval of her precautions.

  Skye closed her eyes, feeling the tension leaving her body. Ciaran approached her unhurriedly. Gently, he placed his fingers beneath her chin and guided her to tip her head back. He brought his lips to hers in a whisper of a kiss. She sighed blissfully at the familiarity of the act. He undressed her slowly, then himself, and carried her to the bed. She melted into him, aroused as ever by the feel of his body, but far more interested in the security of his arms for now.

  “Sleep, my beautiful Goddess,” he whispered as he pressed his lips to her brow. “I will be here beside you for as long as you will have me.”

  Skye laughed drowsily and answered, “Forever, then.”

  She swore she could feel the warmth and radiance of his resulting smile even with her eyes closed.

  “Forever, then,” he whispered in agreement and held her tighter.

  29: Heads & Tales (or Tales of Heads?)

  In the morning, Skye awoke to find Ciaran lying awake
, simply holding her in his arms and waiting patiently for her to rouse. He blinked a few times upon seeing her eyes open, then smiled contentedly.

  “Hello,” he greeted simply, earning a laugh from her. His greeting served its intended purpose – it reminded her that they were free to talk now. No one was around to distract them or listen. No language barrier separated them.

  “Hello,” she answered and snuggled into his arms. “You have questions?”

  Ciaran rolled his eyes dramatically as if that was the understatement of at least the current century. “Where to even begin? How long have you known me?”

  “Always,” she teased, though it was not far from the truth in his lifespan. “A month,” she answered a moment later.

  “Really? Is that all?” he asked in genuine surprise.

  She shrugged. “It was an instant bond. We connected just as naturally in my time as we have here.”

  “But why me?” he asked seriously.

  Skye propped herself up on her elbow, leaning her head against her hand as she studied his eyes. “I do not understand the question.”

  Ciaran’s jaw clenched indecisively, as if this question in particular had been gnawing at him and he was not sure he wanted to put it to words. Not sure he wanted to hear the answer. His curiosity, however, won out. “You have Taran. He is by far the finest male specimen our clan has to offer. He is your King, and rightly so. If you were bored, you could have anyone else as a companion. Why settle for me?”

  Skye frowned. “You are not entertainment to occupy my time, Ciaran. I was not ‘bored,’ and I did not ‘settle’ for you. I want you. I love you. Genuinely. Deeply. Because you are you. Because you are mine. Because you were made to be with me,” she answered plainly, yet vaguely. She prayed he would not press for her to elaborate on the statements that had always seemed adequate explanation for them both when they met. Seeing that he was too floored by her response to ask any questions, she added, “You are my lover and friend, but so much more. Our bond is beyond anything that can be defined by words. And making sure that you are happy, safe, and loved is of the utmost importance to me, regardless of the year.”