Divine by Blood

by P. C. Cast

  Kegan smiled at Morrigan. “Perhaps not. I may have spoken too soon.” Then he did something that utterly shocked Morrigan, and, from the gasps of the watching crowd, the Sidetha, too. He took her hand, bowed formally to her and pressed her palm to his chest over his heart. “Morrigan, this day I publicly proclaim my love for you in front of your goddess, High Priestess and your people. I ask that you do me the honor of joining in Handfast with me. To be my mate for this lifetime and, should your goddess and mine will it, an eternity thereafter. Will you have me, Morrigan, Light Bringer of the Sidetha?”

  Morrigan thought her heart might beat out of her chest. She stared into Kegan’s blue eyes and saw within them a future of love and laughter and happiness. She also saw that, with him, she would never, ever be alone or an outsider again. She saw the mate of her soul.

  “Yes, Kegan, I will.”

  With a shout of joy, Kegan lifted her in his arms and kissed her soundly.

  Birkita’s laughter mingled with the happy cheers of the priestesses.

  “And this is how it should be,” Birkita said. “Life balancing death. Joy lighting the darkness of sadness.”

  Morrigan closed her eyes, kissed Kegan, and wished the moment would never end.

  CHAPTER 22

  “Kai would approve of the setting,” Kegan said. “He loved differing color and textures. I know he found the Salt Plains’ dramatic landscape and jutting crystals beautiful. His spirit will be pleased.”

  “I hope so.” Morrigan leaned into him as he draped his arm around her. They were standing on the knoll where they had first made love, the one that overlooked the Salt Plains. Kai’s pyre had been built in the middle of the hill. The pile of alabaster sap-soaked boughs was massive and lacked only the body and a match. “So this is all going to be okay?”

  “All? What do you mean, my flame?”

  “It just feels weird, having his funeral here without, you know, her.” It was hard for Morrigan to call Shannon Rhiannon, so she’d gotten into the habit of avoiding her name altogether.

  “Birkita and I agreed it would be cruel to send word to Rhiannon of her beloved Stonemaster’s death while the grief over her daughter is so raw. As we decided I will carry Kai’s ashes, along with word of his death, to her when I bring Rhiannon the effigies for the monuments.”

  “One for Myrna and one for Kai.”

  Kegan smoothed her hair back and kissed her forehead. “First you must find the stone that holds Kai’s image, then, yes, I will carve it in his likeness.”

  “I know. I will.” But the truth was, Morrigan hadn’t found the courage yet to question the spirits of the stones. She told herself it had only been two days since the Stonemaster’s death—she had plenty of time to search for the stone that would be carved into his likeness. But in her heart she knew it wasn’t an issue of time. Morrigan was afraid, though she didn’t understand exactly what it was she feared.

  The past two days had been so damn weird. The priestesses talked to her. Actually, they acted fairly normal around her. Birkita was great, as usual, even though Morrigan knew she wasn’t getting enough sleep, and she worried about how tired the old priestess looked. Kegan was…Morrigan sighed and snuggled into him. Kegan was amazing. Everyone else either completely ignored her, or they stared at her and did a lot of whispering as soon as she was almost out of earshot. She hadn’t seen Shayla since their confrontation in the Usgaran. Birkita told her that the Sidetha’s Mistress was keeping vigil over Kai’s body and anointing it with spices and oils every day, just as a wife would. Morrigan had wondered aloud about where Perth was during this very public display of his wife’s affections for another man. According to Birkita, Perth had disappeared into the bowels of the caves shortly after Kai’s death and hadn’t been seen since. Her supposition was that Perth would reappear a few days after Kai’s funeral and continue the pretense of his marriage as if nothing had happened. Morrigan wasn’t so sure. That Shayla had crossed over some kind of edge of reason was obvious. It made sense to Morrigan that the crazy bitch would have bumped off her husband. She figured time would reveal the truth in that.

  “Morrigan?”

  “Sorry, did you say something?”

  “No, no—it’s just that people are beginning to arrive.” Kegan pointed over her shoulder at the trail that led up the cave side of the knoll. Morrigan looked beyond it to see a line of Sidetha moving out of the cave and making their way toward them.

  “That’s my cue to move into the shadows.”

  “Morrigan, what is it? What is bothering you? It was your decision not to participate in Kai’s funeral.”

  “I know,” she snapped, and then sighed and gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m just tired of doing nothing,” Morrigan said.

  “You haven’t been doing nothing. You’ve been readying yourself.”

  “Feels like a lot of nothing to me,” Morrigan said under her breath. Kegan followed her as she moved away from the pyre to the little cluster of scrub pines that had bravely taken root on a raised part of the hill. Morrigan stopped in the shadow of their long, fingerlike limbs. Here she’d be close enough to be a part of the ceremony without being obvious and calling attention to herself. Morrigan’s preference would have been to avoid the whole thing, but three things had made her come. One—if she was to be High Priestess after Birkita, as Kegan and Birkita insisted she would be, she needed to observe a funeral ceremony because she would eventually be presiding over them. Two—Shayla couldn’t be allowed to tell Morrigan what to do. Three—and the most important to Morrigan—Kegan and Birkita were saying goodbye to a friend and she wanted to be there for them. Ergo her presence at the funeral even though she wished she were almost anywhere else.

  “Will you be all right here?” Kegan asked, studying her carefully.

  Morrigan gave him a tight smile and waved him away. “Go ahead. You and Birkita do what you need to do. We’ll talk after the funeral.”

  He kissed her quickly and then went back to wait by the pyre, to be joined by Birkita and the other priestesses who were escorting the litter carrying Kai’s body.

  Morrigan felt a wet nose nuzzle her hand and smiled as Brina joined her. “I’m glad you’re here, pretty girl,” she whispered to the big cat and scratched the top of her head, which automatically started Brina’s purr motor. Petting the cat, Morrigan tried not to fidget while she watched and waited. Over the past days she had been filled with an increasing sense of restlessness, which was only made all the worse by her inactivity. As per Birkita’s instructions, which she repeated ad nauseam, Morrigan was to spend the rest of the days before the next dark moon, which was almost an entire damn month away, meditating. Yep, meditating. Morrigan knew she was supposed to be doing some seriously deep mental communing with the Goddess, but nothing was happening. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Nothing. So, basically, she sat in her room most of the day and tried not to fall asleep or die of boredom while she “meditated.” When mostly she just wished she could watch some trashy daytime TV.

  The voices had even stopped. For the first time in her life, all of them had left her alone. No one spoke to her on the wind. No one spoke in her mind. That should be a good thing, or at least that was what Morrigan told herself, but the absence of the voices made her feel itchy and wrong. Something was getting ready to happen. Something not good.

  The Sidetha began filing up the hill, making a wide circle around the pyre until they covered the knoll and all of its sides. Morrigan was glad she’d chosen to watch from the grove. The small incline it was on helped her to see over the heads. The crowd was solemn. There was very little talking, so the sounds of muffled sobs and sniffing seemed amplified in the silence. Morrigan knew the people weren’t putting on a show; Kai had honestly been loved by the Sidetha.

  New movement caught her eye and Morrigan saw that the body was approaching. Birkita walked at the head of the procession carrying a long torch that burned steadily in the soft evening light. The body was on a litter being carried by six burly ston
eworkers, flanked on each side by six priestesses. At the very end of the procession, walking closest to Kai’s head, was a single woman Morrigan knew had to be Shayla. All of the priestesses were wearing long white unadorned robes, as did most of the mourners, including Morrigan. Birkita had explained to her that they chose white for mourning because it symbolized the departing spirit. Birkita’s robes were the most voluminous, and were edged in a silver interlocking embroidery pattern of spirals. Shayla wore white, too. Even her face was veiled by a diaphanous piece of material that reached almost to her knees. As the procession passed through the crowd, which parted to make way for them, and drew closer to Morrigan and the pyre, she caught a glimpse of Shayla’s face through the veil and thought she looked disturbingly like a zombie bride. She held in front of her the ritualistic sword of the Sidetha. The sword’s presence at his funeral meant that the Sidetha were honoring Kai posthumously as one of their own. It was an exquisite long sword with the figure of Adsagsona carved in a hilt encrusted with gemstones, and its sharp, double-edged blade glittered when it caught slivers of Birkita’s torchlight.

  The procession halted beside the huge pile of boughs near Kegan, who bowed formally to Birkita and then to Kai’s body. Without speaking, he helped the men with Kai’s litter, and used his height to steady it as they worked as a team to lift it and place it on the flattened, bierlike top of the enormous pile of wood.

  The priestesses formed a circle around the pyre, spreading out from where Birkita and Kegan stood beside each other. Shayla didn’t join the circle, but she also didn’t step into the crowd. Morrigan thought she looked utterly bat-shit crazy standing there with her veil, holding the raised sword and staring with unblinking eyes at Kai’s body.

  Birkita put the torch in a holder that had been placed in the ground. Then she raised her arms above her and called out to her goddess.

  “Adsagsona, I call on you above—” she paused and pulled her arms down to form the open-palmed reverse V “—and below.”

  Morrigan watched Birkita invoke Adsagsona, and she thought how beautiful the High Priestess looked, how serene and confident. The paleness of her skin that Morrigan had been worrying so much about was mirrored in her cloudcolored robes so that she looked ethereal and goddesslike.

  “O Gracious Goddess who gives rest, O Lady of the twilight realms and womb of the earth, we ask you to hear our prayers for the spirit of Epona’s Stonemaster Kai, who served the Goddess with his gift as well as his heart. Today we claim him as one of our own, and will, hereafter, call him Sidetha. As one of our people, we ask that you grant him release from this realm, and help speed his spirit into the beautiful meadows of Epona.”

  Then Birkita and Kegan turned so that they were facing each other and she continued the rite.

  “Kegan, High Shaman and Master Sculptor of Partholon, we do call on thee to stand here before us and before our Goddess that we may give honor and love to Kai, whom you have known.”

  Kegan raised his arms and tilted his head back so that his face was open to the sky, and his voice carried deep and strong all across the knoll. “O Gracious Goddess who gives rest, O Lady of the twilight realms and womb of the earth, I stand here with my face turned to the sky, representative of all who loved him, and I speak of Kai’s loyalty and goodness, and the great loss we feel because of his absence.”

  It was then Birkita’s turn to speak again. “But we know that the loss of Kai is only for a time, and we bid you have no sorrow, for surely he is journeying to Epona’s verdant meadows where it is always warm and pleasing, where there is no pain or death, sadness or loss, and with all his ills gone he will have youth anew.”

  Kegan smiled, and Morrigan’s breath caught at the expression of utter joy on his face as he spoke jubilantly. “Dying is just a way of rest, a way of going to our Goddess to be renewed and made strong, and then finally to return.”

  “Great Goddess Adsagsona, you have told us that arrayed in a new flesh someday another mother will give birth, so that with sturdier body and brighter mind the old spirit will take the earthly road again. We wish that journey to be joyous for Kai, who was Stonemaster of Partholon, claimed by the Sidetha, and loved by many.” Birkita paused long enough to take the torch from its holder and face the pyre. “And now we release Kai forever from this earthly shell and we rejoice that a new life has begun for him.” She held the torch high and cried, “Hail, Adsagsona!”

  “No!”

  The crowd’s echoing response was shattered by Shayla’s scream. With a quickness that stunned Morrigan, she dropped the sword and hurled herself at Birkita as she shrieked, “No! I will not let you burn him!” She knocked Birkita to the side and the torch flew from her hands, landing in the middle of the waiting pyre, where it instantly lit. Crazed, Shayla ripped off the white veil that covered her face and began beating at the growing flames with it as if she thought she could put them out.

  “No, Shayla, you must stop!” Morrigan heard Birkita cry, and saw the old priestess grab Shayla’s arm and try to drag her back.

  Not waiting to see what other madness Shayla had planned, Morrigan hurried forward, Brina following her and growling softly as she shoved people out of her way. Gentle sensibilities of the Sidetha who might harbor suspicions that Kai had been right about her be damned, Birkita needed her, so she was going to Birkita.

  “Shayla, you desecrate Kai’s pyre!”

  Kegan’s voice carried above the sounds of shock the crowd was making and the growing noise of crackling boughs. Morrigan shoved past a big guy and popped through the crowd in time to see the pyre go up in flames with an enormous whoosh.

  “No!” Shayla screamed again. She was standing between Birkita and Kegan, who each held on to one of her arms. Brina was crouched in front of the trio, twitching her tail and snarling and looking like she was trying to figure out how to pounce on Shayla without snagging Birkita or Kegan. The other priestesses were staring, rooted into place, which irritated the crap out of Morrigan. She was going to have to instill some backbone into those women. How could they let Birkita, who was older than any of them, wrestle with Shayla?

  Morrigan was almost to Birkita when the old woman suddenly dropped Shayla’s arm and took a stumbling step back. She was facing her, so Morrigan saw her expression clearly. Her eyes widened in complete surprise, and both of her hands fluttered up in a slow, trembling movement. One pressed against her breast and the other clenched her left arm. Then her mouth opened in a surprised O, her eyes rolled to show their whites, and she collapsed as if all the bones in her body had liquefied.

  “Birkita!” The scream tore from her chest, echoing Brina’s snarl as she pounced on Shayla, knocking her to the ground. Morrigan ran to Birkita. Frantically she rolled her over. Birkita wasn’t breathing. Morrigan felt for a pulse. There was none. “No! Oh, please, Birkita, no!” Trying to control her body’s trembling, Morrigan laid Birkita flat, tilted her head back, clamped her nose and began performing CPR. Between breaths during chest compressions she begged Birkita, “Open your eyes! Breathe!”

  She heard the low chanting before she felt the warm, heavy hand on her shoulder. With a surge of anger she looked up into Kegan’s face. “No! Stop doing that! She can’t die!”

  The centaur High Shaman paused in his chanting only long enough to say sadly, “Birkita is already dead, my flame.”

  * * *

  I had no clue what time it was or, for that matter, what day it was when I heard Epona’s voice.

  Beloved, you must come.

  I had gotten in the habit of not answering her. I closed my eyes more tightly and snuggled Etain closer to me, inhaling her sweet baby scent and letting her warmth soothe me. If Epona would just leave us alone—if they all would just leave us alone—everything would be fine.

  Beloved, you must come, the Goddess repeated. I have need of you.

  I was too tired to get really pissed off, so I just misquoted Rhett. “Frankly, I don’t give a good goddamn.”

  Enough self-indulgenc
e!

  Had I been in my right mind the power that zapped through the air along with Epona’s anger would have straightened me right up and made me snap to—but I wasn’t in my right mind. Instead I sat up in bed and, keeping my voice low enough not to wake the baby, said, “Self-indulgence? My daughter is dead and you call my grief and pain self-indulgence?”

  Epona’s form materialized. The Goddess was standing at the foot of the huge mound of bedding I had in happier days called the marshmallow. Though I have seen her visage many times over the twenty years I had been her Chosen, her beauty was so great, her palpable aura of love and compassion so bright, that it was always hard for me to look directly at her.

  And still I couldn’t forgive her.

  No, Beloved, I do not call your grief and pain self-indulgence. That is what I call your withdrawal from those who love and need you.

  I felt a twinge of guilt. ClanFintan. I knew he was suffering, too, and somewhere inside me I understood I needed him desperately and knew he needed me. But I couldn’t find my way to his love. I was lost in a foggy maze of pain and anger and the only person I could see through the grayness was Etain.

  “I can’t be there for anyone right now.” I barely recognized the flat, emotionless sound of my own voice.

  I would give you more time if I could, Beloved, but I cannot. You must rejoin the world. Your daughter needs you now.

  The words your daughter hit my body like icy water. “My daughter is dead.”

  The daughter of your womb is dead. The daughter of your spirit is alive. It is she who needs you.

  The icy water turned scalding as the Goddess’s words battered me. I had no idea I was crying until the tears washed from my cheeks and fell to soak the silk of my nightgown. Who knew a person could cry so much? I would have thought my eyes would have run dry days ago.

  My voice shook and I had to speak slowly to get the words out. “Are you trying to destroy me completely?”

  The Goddess moved closer to me. She lifted the hem of her shining golden robe, and with it wiped my face. No, my most Beloved One, I am trying to save you.