by P. C. Cast
Brighid had been staring out at the night and suddenly what she was seeing registered in her mind.
“The meat is totally rancid, and the damned gelding broke his hobbles and is gone. First thing in the morning I’ll have to—” He broke off, noting the shocked expression on Brighid’s face. “What is it?”
“The moon. It’s in its fourth quarter.”
Both of them gazed at the crescent-shaped sliver of light that hung in the inky sky.
“But it was full just last night. Wasn’t it?” he said.
She nodded. “It was full the night before we entered the Otherworld. I remember it because it illuminated everything so clearly.”
“During your Magic Sleep journey to MacCallan,” he said.
“Ten days, Cu. It is at least ten days from the full moon to the phase of the last quarter.”
Cuchulainn ran his hand through his hair. “No wonder we feel so awful.”
“Cu, it might have been days since Bregon left the grove. We have no way of knowing how long we were in the presence of the Goddess.”
He took her hand. “It’s true. We have no way of knowing right now—and there is nothing we can do about Bregon or the other centaurs of your herd tonight.” When she started to speak he shook his head. “No,” he said firmly. “It would be foolish of us to do anything tonight except eat and sleep and replenish our bodies and spirits. In the morning I’ll track the gelding and we can decide what to do from there.”
“I already know what we must do,” Brighid said. “Bregon’s words were blustering and bragging. I won’t need an army to take my rightful place as High Shaman of Dhianna. Once the herd knows I drank from Epona’s Chalice they will accept me.”
“What of the centaurs who are loyal to Bregon?”
“There will be a few, but much less than you believe.” Finally she smiled. “You see, my warrior husband, no centaur female would ever refuse allegiance to the firstborn daughter of their High Shaman.”
He returned her smile. “So those who side against you will be choosing very long, lonely lives.”
“Exactly,” she said.
He linked his arm through hers and they made their way slowly back to the cave, leaning a little on each other and occasionally stumbling.
“That does make me feel more hopeful about this. Perhaps the transition to your leadership won’t be as traumatic an event as we anticipated.”
“Perhaps,” she said thoughtfully. “But there is still my brother to deal with. He’s made it clear that he will not easily give up the position he has usurped.”
“Then we will simply have to show him that he has no choice.” Cuchulainn’s voice was flint.
“Cu, when the basin showed me Bregon drinking of the Chalice I saw something else. When he left the grove ghostly wisps of his spirit stayed behind in the Otherworld. His soul has been shattered, Cu, terribly.” She touched her husband’s face. “Promise me that you will remember that he is not whole when you confront him.”
“I promise,” he said, and kissed her hand. “But you need to understand that no matter what pity I might feel for him, I will not allow him to harm you.”
“I can’t believe that he would really hurt me, Cu. I still remember the sweet child he used to be who wanted nothing so much as his mother’s love and approval.”
“He’s not a child anymore. But don’t worry, my beautiful Huntress, I will always remember that he is your brother.” He kissed her hand again and then began feeling around the dark mouth of the cave for the fire starting implements he’d left ready at hand. “I think if we boil some of the dried meat left in our packs it would make a decent broth to soak that stale bread.”
“I’ll knock the mold off the rest of the cheese,” Brighid said.
“Thank Epona for my mother’s love of wine, at least we have plenty of that.”
They built a quick fire and pieced together a decent meal, talking quietly about their experiences in the Otherworld, most especially about the awe they both felt when in the presence of the Great Goddess. Brighid watched Cuchulainn speak, thinking again how blessed she was to have such a valiant and loyal mate. Then, with a little start, she realized that she now had the power to shape-shift and join fully with him. It was that thought that had her lips curving into a smile even as she lost the battle with her exhausted body and she, and then Cuchulainn, fell into a deep, healing sleep.
When Brighid opened her eyes the cave was just beginning to be illuminated in the dreamy light that was the harbinger of newborn dawn. She stretched, careful not to wake the warrior who slept so peacefully beside her, and then stood, testing her body to see if it was still as weak and unreliable as it had been the previous night. No, she thought happily, I feel wonderful!
She left the cave and made her way quickly to the waterfall. Taking off her vest she stood naked under the cold spray. Lifting her face to the crystal current she opened her mouth and drank of the water. By the Goddess, she felt so incredibly alive! Her skin tingled under the water’s caress, but it was more than that—Brighid felt an awareness in the world around her that she had never before experienced. It was as if until that morning the trees and rocks and the very earth herself had been slumbering—and now everything had awakened with her.
Laughing softly, she stepped from under the waterfall and gazed out at the Centaur Plains. There wasn’t light enough yet to see definitions in the waving grass and gently rolling land. It was still shrouded in darkness, but the sky had begun to blush in anticipation of the sun and her eyes drank in the hazy morning view.
“Home…” She breathed the word aloud and the spirit within her body leaped at the admission. “I’m going home.”
Brighid ignored the vest she had left on the rock beside the waterfall. She felt powerful and beautiful and filled with the passion of purpose. When she reentered the cave Cu stirred, rolled over, and then slowly opened his eyes. Seeing her silhouetted against the predawn sky he smiled and raised himself up on his elbow.
“Standing there all naked and wet you look like you could be one of the fairy folk who slipped away from the Otherworld,” he said, his voice still rough with sleep.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Brighid said, throwing her arms over her head as if she could embrace the day. “This morning I feel so different—like I’m not completely of this world.”
Cuchulainn sat all the way up. “You are different, my beautiful Huntress, you are a High Shaman.”
Brighid met his eyes, looking carefully to see if there was any reticence or withdrawal from her lurking there. Then she smiled, because she saw only Cuchulainn and the love he felt for her reflected in his gaze.
“Do you think people will stop calling me Huntress now?”
“Would that make you sad?” he asked.
“Yes…yes it would. At the core of my being I will always be a Huntress.”
“Then—” he swept his arm in a courtly flourish “—to me you will always be my beautiful Huntress.”
“I hope so, Cu. I really hope so,” she said. When he started to get up she shook her head. “No. Don’t come to me yet. I want you to stay there.”
He tilted his head and studied her. “What are you concocting?”
“I’m—I’m not sure. Just give me a moment.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Huntress,” he said, leaning back on his elbow and taking a pull from their wineskin.
Brighid bowed her head and closed her eyes. Then she reached out with the new senses that had blossomed into life in the grove of the Goddess. Her mind swirled…
Everything was, indeed, ensouled…interrelated…The spirit realm and the physical world were nothing more than points on a flexible branch that could be bent, curved, and rewoven so that the end points of reality and unreality could meet and become the same. Centaur…man…woman…hawk…tree…grassland…they were all spirit-filled and touched by the Goddess. It was a simple thing, really, this shifting of shape and molding of matter…
B
righid raised her head and smiled beatifically at her husband. “I’ll need you to be very quiet. I know I can do this, but I must have your word that you will not fragment my attention.”
Cuchulainn’s expression became tense and serious. “Brighid, you just returned last night. I think you should wait before you attempt—”
Her look stilled his words.
“Do you believe in me?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you desire me?”
“Of course,” he said. Then he nodded. “I understand, my love. You have my oath that I will not fragment your attention.”
She gave him a quick smile of gratitude before turning her attention inward. Help me, Epona, guide me, aid me. I’ve barely tasted my new powers—I feel them, but I have no training…I don’t know… She drew a deep breath. I cannot do this without Your loving touch.
Suddenly words flooded her mind. The centaur bowed her head and gave words to the magic that was surging through her soul.
I am the wind that blows across the sea;
I am the wave of the deep;
I am the roar of the ocean;
I am the stag of the forest;
I am a hawk on the cliff;
I am a ray of sunlight
and the greenest of plants.
As the tempo and volume of Brighid’s voice increased, she began to lift her arms, holding her palms out, fingers spread wide. She did not shout, but the power within the words was so great that it raised the hair on the back of Cuchulainn’s neck.
Then a shimmering covered her body. She glowed. The brilliance that danced along her skin seemed to be moving, but it wasn’t the light that was moving. It was the Huntress’s skin, rippling and liquefying. Brighid closed her eyes and lifted her arms and head together in time with her words.
I am the wild boar
and the salmon in the river;
I am a lake on the Plain;
I am the word of knowledge
and the point of a spear;
I am the lure beyond the ends of the earth
and I can shift my shape like a Goddess!
As she shouted the last line her body exploded in a shower of light and her wordless shriek of agony echoed off the walls of the cave.
Despite his oath, Brighid’s scream had Cuchulainn on his feet and rushing to her. But he stumbled to a stop when he saw the woman. She was kneeling in the exact place Brighid had been standing. Her head was bowed and damp hair covered her face. One of her hands rested on the ground and the other was still raised above her. She was breathing hard and her naked body was glistening with a slick film of sweat. With a moan, she raised her head and shook back her hair.
“I wish someone had warned me about how much that hurts.” Brighid’s voice sounded raspy.
“By the Goddess! Brighid!” Cuchulainn made a movement toward her, and then checked himself as if he was afraid to come too close to her.
She peered up at him through a curtain of silver hair. “If you tell me you’re afraid to touch me I can promise you that I’m going to be very upset.”
“Of course I’m not afraid to touch you. I just…” He breathed a curse and closed the space between them. He bent and carefully gripped her arms, helping her to stand. “I just didn’t want to hurt you,” he finally said.
“You’re not going to hurt me.” She glanced down at her body and her eyes widened. “I had no idea how strange this would be.”
He put his arm around her waist. “Maybe you should come over to the pallet and sit down.”
She nodded and stumbled a couple of steps forward. Then stopped and looked down at her legs again. “I’m so small!”
She thought his bark of laughter sounded a little hysterical. “You’re not small—look at you—you’re almost as tall as I am.”
“Wait, let go of me and let me…I mean I need to…” She sighed at his perplexed expression. “Cuchulainn, I want to stand on my own two feet for a moment and get used to this new me.”
“Oh! Of course,” he said, carefully disentangling one arm from around her waist and the other from under her elbow.
He stepped away from her. She straightened and then looked down at herself again. Her torso was unchanged, but from her waist down she was another being entirely. Her powerful equine body had been exchanged for two long, lean legs. She glanced behind her and had to blink hard to keep from feeling dizzy and disoriented.
“Goddess! There’s nothing back there,” she blurted.
This time the warrior’s laugh sounded more normal. “Of course there is! You have very shapely buttocks.”
She met his eyes. “My shape is attractive to you?”
“Very,” he said. “Not that I don’t think you’re beautiful as a Huntress, too,” he added hastily.
“I already know you find me attractive as a centaur. This body is new to me. Naturally, I would wonder if…”
“You don’t need to wonder, Brighid. You are an exquisite woman. In this light you look like a satin-skinned Goddess who somehow fell from the morning sky.” He reached out and let a strand of her silver hair fall through his fingers. “And I am the luckiest of men to have discovered you.”
She saw the desire in his eyes and the knowledge of it started a hot quiver low in her belly. She smiled and let her gaze move back to her body. Carefully she stretched one of her legs forward. Pointing her toes she swung the leg forward from her hip. “Legs…toes…it’s all so ordinary and yet extraordinary.”
“I think it’s completely extraordinary.” His voice raw with emotion. “You did it, Brighid! You mastered that which only a High Shaman can command—the power to shape-shift.”
“We did it,” she said. “If you hadn’t been with me I would never have reached Epona’s grove. And now I need you to help me with something else.”
“Anything, my beautiful Huntress.”
“Show me how to become one in the flesh with you.”
Wordlessly Cuchulainn took her hand and led her to their pallet, which they had not moved from the middle of the labyrinth. As she walked across the cave her steps became more sure, and though she missed the power of her natural form, she was able to appreciate the capacity for grace in her woman’s body. She lay beside her husband and, filled with curiosity and wonder, she let her hands caress her naked body, learning how it responded to touch and finding the small secret spots that were especially sensitive.
“My skin is so soft. It amazes me,” Brighid said. “I had no idea it would be like this.” She smiled up at Cuchulainn who had propped himself on his elbow beside her and was watching as she explored herself.
“You make me breathless,” he said huskily.
“Don’t lose your breath,” she murmured, taking his hand and guiding it to her thigh. “If you can’t breathe, how will you tell me about the pleasures of this new body?”
He moaned her name and whispered against her lips, “I’ll show you.”
But he didn’t just show her. As he touched her with his hands and mouth he spoke to her, asking what caress she most preferred and where and how his touch pleased her. His hands, roughened by years of swordplay, felt sensuous against the smoothness of her skin and Brighid found that she could not get enough of the feel of that roughness cupping the softness of her buttocks. When his mouth moved to her core and tasted fully of her, she did not look away, but watched him as he finally learned what she had known before him—the joy of a lover’s pleasure.
When she was slick and ready for him, he entered her gently, allowing her time to stretch and receive him. And then they linked hands as they began the ageless give and take of lovemaking. She arched to meet him, reveling in the knowledge that their bodies had finally been able to experience what their souls had already known—the joining of two. When he cried her name and spilled his seed into her she held him close and crested the wave of sensation with him.
48
“CHANGING BACK IS much easier,” Brighid said, twitching her tail and stomping he
r hooves as if she was worried that something might not have completely transformed back to equine shape.
“It’s amazing,” Cu said. “All these years and I have never once seen my father shape-shift.” He gave her a lopsided, boyish grin. “Although there were a couple of times when I burst into my mother’s chamber and he was there in man form.” He chuckled. “It never failed to surprise me. The last time I was about ten or eleven, and I couldn’t really see him very well. I remember thinking that some stranger had gone mad and was ravishing her, so I brandished my not particularly dangerous wooden practice sword and yelled for him to unhand the Goddess Incarnate.”
“What did he do?” Brighid asked, smiling.
“He looked up at me and said, ‘Later, boy, right now your mother and I are rather busy.’” Cuchulainn shook his head. “But that wasn’t the worst of it. My yelling brought my mother’s palace guards running—they don’t take the ravishing of the Chosen of Epona lightly. There followed an embarrassing several moments that my father didn’t find amusing. At all. When the ‘later’ came he sat me down and had a very long, very detailed talk with me about husbands and wives and lovemaking in general. He also explained to me in detail why he had to shape-shift, and why when he did it was a very private moment between my mother and him.”
Brighid tried unsuccessfully to smother her laughter. “That sounds like a very awkward conversation.”
“It wasn’t a conversation. He talked—I listened. Then he asked me if I had any questions.”
“Did you?”
Cuchulainn snorted. “Are you kidding? I was completely embarrassed, besides that all I could think of was why in the name of the Goddess anyone would want to do the things he was describing—and even if he did—why my mother would tolerate them.”
Brighid’s laughter turned into unexpectedly girlish giggles. “Stop, you’re hurting me.”
He smiled at her, wrapped one arm around her waist and kissed her soundly.
“I do remember in particular one of the things my father explained to me about shape-shifting during that awkward lecture.”
