“Exactly. If I had stepped in and scooped Cuchulainn up after Brenna’s death, and had done what my heart was begging me to do-cushion him from pain and surround him in the power I have to duplicate Epona’s love-he would not have grieved and he would be eternally as the shattered part of his soul is now, unable to face reality. He would have become a weak, emotionally bereft man who spent a sad life running from his problems. He had to grieve.”

“I understand that. But he has grieved. He’s even begun to work through his pain.”

“Which is why your soul retrieval will be successful,” Etain said, quickly shaking her head when Brighid began to protest. “This is not the job for a mother. Nor is it a job for Ciara. He needs you to do this for him, Brighid. But more than that, Epona has decreed that it is part of your destiny.”

Brighid felt jolted by the Goddess Incarnate’s words. “Epona has spoken of me?” She didn’t realize she’d said her thought aloud until Etain answered her.

“Of course. Why would that surprise you? Epona’s presence is very strong in your family.”

“But my family…” Brighid floundered, not knowing what to say about the Dhianna Herd’s radical beliefs that centaurs and humans should not interact.

“Brighid, you do not need to feel such guilt. Epona has given her people free will-all of her people. Even those who have been richly blessed by her. Along with the gift of free will comes the possibility of mistakes. Rest assured that the Goddess knows your heart is clear of hatred. Epona does not hold a daughter responsible for her mother’s sins.”

Brighid tried to speak, but could not. The relief that poured through her was almost too much to bear. Epona did not blame her. She had not been branded or rejected by the Goddess.

Then Etain touched Brighid’s arm, and into the tumult of Brighid’s emotions flowed a soothing balm of kindness and love. The Huntress drew a long, shuddering breath.

“Thank you,” she told Etain, speaking to the woman and the Goddess she represented.

“Don’t let it haunt you, child.” With Etain’s words there came a swirling of the air around her, and suddenly within Brighid’s mind she heard the echo of a thought, so filled with power and warmth that it filled her eyes with tears,

Know that I am with you, precious one.

Brighid gasped. Then the swirling air and the whispering voice were gone.

“I-I think Epona…” Brighid stuttered, “She-she…”

“Her touch is breathingtaking, isn’t it?” Etain asked kindly, as if she hadn’t been feeling the Goddess’s presence for most of her life.

Brighid blinked and swiped the back of her hand across her wet cheeks. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes it is.”

“Here, child.” Etain turned and dug through one of the butter-colored saddlebags strapped behind her and pulled out two silk handkerchiefs. She handed one to the Huntress and kept the other so that she could delicately dab at her own eyes. “I’m always prepared for a good cry. It cleanses the soul.”

Brighid wiped her face, still in awe of the voice that had sounded through her mind. Epona had spoken to her! Her! And she was not being rejected because of her mother’s choices.

“Better now?” Etain asked.

“I think so,” she said.

“Good! I should go back there and find Ciara. She should pass the word that the children can break out their finery. It never hurts to look ones best.”

“Wait!” Brighid cried, and the silver mare stopped midturn. “I don’t know how to retrieve a soul.”

Etain smiled at her. “You’re doing just fine. You’ve already called him to you in your dreams.”

“But not recently. He stopped coming to my dreams the night we got to Guardian Castle.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. He’ll come again. When you’re home, with your Clan about you, ready yourself for your spirit journey, just as you would use your powers to track new prey.”

“You-you know about that?” As soon as the words escaped Brighid felt ridiculously foolish. Again. Of course Epona’s Chosen would recognize her affinity with the spirits of animals.

“Using gifts granted to you by Epona is nothing to be ashamed of,” Etain said firmly.

“I’m not ashamed of the gift,” Brighid insisted, anxious that Etain understand. “I’ve been ashamed of how my family has used its gifts. I didn’t want to be like…” She paused. The priestess’s gaze was kind, motherly, understanding.

“Go on, child. You can say it.”

“I don’t want to be like my mother,” Brighid said in a rush.

“Did you ever consider that it is possible for you to be like her in that you have been gifted greatly, and be unlike her in the way you choose to use those gifts?”

“Yes! That’s why I only use my affinity with the animal spirits. The rest of it-I didn’t even really realize I had more until recently.”

“But you do have more than a simple affinity for the spirits of animals. Isn’t your denial a victory for your mother?”

“I’ve never thought of it that way.” Brighid could almost hear her mother’s hard voice, You will follow me as proper High Shaman, or you will be nothing.

“Perhaps you should think of it. And don’t worry about not being able to find Cu’s spirit. When you’re ready, he’ll come to you.”

“And then what?” Brighid blurted, mind whirring with Etain’s words.

“You’ll know, child. You’ll know what will bring him back. I’m sure of it. I have faith in your abilities, Brighid.” Etain smiled, turned the mare so that she was pointed back down the wagon line, and trotted jauntily off, leaving Brighid with a silk handkerchief and unanswered questions.

S he liked the quality of light that filtered through the forest just as the sun was rising, or as it was now when it was almost ready to set. The connection between dawn and sunset was like a coin with two faces. Alike, yet separate. Similar, yet not the same. There was a simplicity and rightness to thinking of the two as reflections of one another…beginning and ending…and then beginning again…just another part of the great circle of life. The thought brought Brighid peace, and it was one of the many reasons she preferred to hunt during the shifting of the day.

“Brighid!”

The Huntress sighed.

“Brighid!”

She rolled her head, trying to relieve some of the tension that was settling in her neck.

“You’d better see to him. You know he’s not going to leave you alone,” Cu said.

“He’s injured. He needs to be still and stay where he is,” Brighid said firmly.

“Brrrrighiiiiid!”

Swathed in golden silk and draped with jewels, Etain definitely looked the part of Epona’s Chosen as the silver mare trotted up to join her son and the Huntress at the head of the line. “Your apprentice is calling for you.”

“I know that,” Brighid ground out between clenched teeth, trying hard to keep her tone civil.

“Take the word of a mother. Ignoring him will not make him go away,” said the Beloved of Epona. The Chosen mare blew firmly through her nose in agreement.

“Go back and talk to him,” Cu said. “It’s the only way we’ll get any peace. Just remind him that we’re almost there. Soon he should have a lot more to think about than you.”

“Easy for you to say,” Brighid grumbled. “You don’t have an annoying winged apprentice shrieking your name day and night.”

“He’s just restless. He’ll be fine when he can move about again on his own,” Etain said.

“Huh,” Brighid snorted. “You didn’t know him before. He was just as annoying.” Setting her jaw, she fell out of the forward position and cantered back to the first wagon, sure that she heard Etain’s musical laughter floating behind her.

Like small flowers following the sun, all of the little heads in the first wagon turned in her direction. She met the gaze of the haggard-looking wagon driver. He nodded politely, even though his eyes said he’d rather be just about anywhere else, including the heat of battle, than cooped up with the cluster of chirping, laughing, chattering children.