Divine by Choice (8 page)

Read Divine by Choice Online

Authors: P.C. Cast

BOOK: Divine by Choice
13.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

But since the Fomorians had been vanquished, I had not been called by Epona to go on any nighttime spirit trips, even when I had tried to will myself on one after ClanFintan left. Nor had I heard the whisper of her voice, which I had become strangely accustomed to hearing, until today when she had breathed into my mind the words
You are not playing, Beloved.
It took hearing her voice again for me to realize how much her silence had bothered me.

“I tried to send my spirit out of my body to visit you, but it didn't happen. I asked Epona to let me visit you. It was such an easy thing before—I even traveled so much that I got really tired of it.”

“Yes, I remember.” I felt him nod his head.

“And she hasn't been talking to me, either,” I said in a small voice.

“Rhea, your Goddess would not leave you. You must believe that.”

“I don't know, ClanFintan. I don't really know anything about this Goddess Incarnate stuff. Remember, I'm not Rhiannon.”

“Yes, and I thank your Goddess daily that you are not.” His voice was firm. The truth was, no one had liked Rhiannon. Okay, more accurately, most people who had known her had loathed her, which was—at first—an almost constant source of irritation to me. Plus, it was confusing to look like someone who had evolved into such a different kind of person.

“Sometimes I wonder if I just imagined that I was meant to be Epona's Chosen.”

“Do you think so little of Epona?” He didn't sound angry, just questioning.

“No.” My answer came easily. “I've felt her presence and experienced her power.”

“Then it must be yourself of whom you think so little.”

I couldn't answer that. I had always believed I was a strong woman with a healthy ego and excellent self-esteem. But maybe my husband was right. Maybe I needed to look inside myself for doubt and weakness, and not Epona.

Could that be part of why Rhiannon and I were so different? I knew self-doubt could be destructive and life altering, but wasn't some self-reflection healthy? Had Rhiannon become so spoiled and willful that she was immune to any kind of self-questioning? Mix that with the power that went along with being Epona's Beloved and maybe, like Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, she had become “as a serpent's egg which hatched, would as his kind grow mischievous.” Had Epona done what Brutus contemplated, and by switching me with Rhiannon, smashed her shell before her hatched evilness could destroy Partholon?

Or was I just letting the useless literature that tended to clutter my English teacher brain freak me out?

“Rest now.” Once again his hand began a hypnotic caress, and ClanFintan's familiar touch helped to quiet my jabbering mind. “Your Goddess will answer your doubts.”

“I love you,” I murmured as a wave of weariness closed my eyelids and I fell softly into a deep sleep.

 

I was nibbling Godiva dark chocolates while I lounged on a downfilled, violet-colored divan, which was situated in the middle of a field of waving wheat. At the end of the divan sat Sean Connery (dressed in 007-era black tie). My feet were in his lap, and with one strong, firm hand he rubbed erotic swirls across my instep, and with the other he held open a book of poetry entitled
Why I Love You.
As he read to me in his sexy Scottish burr, he kept glancing at me with looks of undisguised adoration…

…
And I was suddenly sucked out of my fabulous dream and through the ceiling of Epona's Temple.

“Whoa! Feeling sick!” My spirit voice held a familiar ghostly resonance and I gulped the night air. The rush of exhilaration I felt as I realized my Goddess was once again directing my spirit warred with the revolution in my stomach. My spirit hung over the middle of Epona's Temple, remaining very still while I got my bearings and re-accustomed myself to the Magic Sleep—which wasn't actually sleep at all, but the traveling of my soul, and was therefore exceptionally magical.

As my vertigo receded, I was able to relax and enjoy the incredible view. The moon was almost full, and its clean silver light kissed the walls of the temple until they seemed to come alive, glowing with an inner blush of illuminated marble.

Below me I could see that the feast must be coming to a close. Sleepy shapes moved in groups of twos, threes and fours, and were stumbling a little amidst good-natured jesting and merriment as they emerged from the front entrance of the temple, heading back to their neat homes outside the temple walls. I smiled as several of the pairs seemed to have a hard time moving out of the shadows, and when they did continue on their way home, their arms remained entwined suggestively around one another.

I guess my people had been inspired to emulate my condition.

As I continued to play spiritual voyeur, I noticed a centaur couple standing apart from the departing crowd, some way from the path taken by the other people. My body drifted in their direction, until I was hovering above the female's back—far enough above her that my presence was not noticed, but not so far that I could not easily see that the two centaurs below me were my friends, Victoria and Dougal.

I could not see Victoria's face, and I could not hear what was being said, but I could see that Dougal was speaking, and that his words held rapt the Huntress's attention. (I realize I should not be eaves-watching, but, well, my spirit body wasn't moving away—which gave
me a great excuse to pry.) As I watched, Victoria held up one of her hands and pressed a finger against Dougal's lips, stopping his speech. Then she stepped forward, and in one graceful movement, she rested her head against his shoulder and nodded once, yes.

The radiance in Dougal's face made the light of the moon appear sallow in comparison as he wrapped his lover within his arms.

I grinned, thinking that I couldn't wait to tell Alanna that whatever had been keeping Dougal and Vic apart appeared to be totally fixed.

Slowly, my spirit form began moving forward, leaving my friends their privacy and me a happy knot in my throat. I traveled in the night's sky toward the road, which led past the western ridge of the temple plateau. Once over the ridge, I picked up speed and began moving with purpose toward a tidy-looking home that was situated north of the road amidst a rolling field of well-tended grapevines. The main house was flanked by a sturdy barn with a matching corral, as well as another large structure, which was probably used for the fermenting and storage of wine (may-the-Goddess-bless-them-and-keep-them-till-I-give-birth-and-regain-my-love-for-the-fruit-of-the-vine).

For an instant I hovered directly over the house, then the bottom fell away beneath me and I dropped through the thick thatched roof.

“I wish you would warn me before you do that,” I mumbled to my Goddess, but my grumbling stopped as I beheld the sight beneath me.

I was floating near the ceiling of a nice-size bedchamber that was lit by what must have been hundreds of brilliant white candles. A large bed sat against a windowed wall, and an intricately carved wardrobe and matching vanity had been pushed against another wall. Small stools and tables hugged the other two walls—all of the furniture was covered with soft, draped material and pools of lighted candles.

Women clustered below me, surrounding a naked female, who was standing, but leaning heavily against the top of a cushioned chaise lounge, much like the ones we used at the temple. The naked woman was obviously very pregnant. Her head was bowed, and her eyes were
screwed shut in concentration. I watched as her ripe stomach rippled and her breathing became more pronounced.

As I observed the scene beneath me, I realized that the other women were a single, focused unit. One woman gently pressed against the laboring woman's lower back with the palm of her hand. Another woman crouched before her, breathing in concert with each of her panting breaths. Two women fanned the air so that a light breeze continually bathed the laboring woman. The other women either hummed or sang softly.

My body drifted closer, and the woman's contraction ended. Instantly, her head came up, and I was amazed to see a satisfied smile curve her full lips. She wiped a loose strand of damp hair from her face.

“It is almost time!” Her voice was joyous, not filled with the pain and strain I had expected.

Cheers and laughter greeted her announcement.

A tall, handsome woman approached the soon-to-be mother, offering her a sip from a goblet. Another woman, this one a teenager, wiped her brow with a thick cloth. All of the women were smiling, as if they were taking part in an event filled with such wonder that it was impossible to contain within them, and the happiness came spilling out of their bodies.

“Help me into position…” The pregnant woman's voice was soft, but it carried throughout the room. Three of the older women stepped forward. One woman knelt before her. The other two supported her on either side as she moved into a squatting position. The next contraction took hold of her body. I could see her muscles tense as she took a deep breath and began pushing.

The women surrounding the group formed a circle, clasping each other's hands while they hummed a wordless tune, which reminded me of something Loreena McKennitt would sing.

“I see the head!”

The woman's bulging belly relaxed for just an instant, then she drew an even deeper breath and bore down again.

After another round of concentrated pushing a wet, writhing form
slipped from between her legs and was caught deftly by the waiting woman.

“Your daughter is born!” the matron cried.

And the other women caught up the cheer.

“Welcome, young one!”

I found my voice somewhere between my tears, and I echoed their joyous cry. Only occasionally can my presence be sensed when I'm on a spirit journey, so I was surprised and delighted when the new mother's head snapped up in response to the sound of my ethereal voice. Her eyes glistened through tears of happiness and I felt the change in my spirit body that told me my hovering form had become visible to her.

“Epona's Beloved has witnessed my daughter's birth!” Her tired voice was rapturous.

The other women began laughing and clapping—some even started an impromptu dance, twirling and spinning with their hands painting intricate patterns in the air. I found their joy infectious, and as the women cleaned the newborn and the mother, I felt my spirit body moving in time to their song of new life.

And a thought struck me. The miracle of birth was and should always be a moment of empowerment for all women—as it had been in the scene below me. Perhaps this ancient world had lessons it could teach the modern one from which I came. C-sections and epidurals should be blessings to women, but I suddenly wondered if they had become a means from which to steal the magic of the power of birth away from a generation of mothers.

As this thought formed in my mind, I could feel my spirit body begin rising. The new mother's head lifted from its resting place and she waved at my departing form.

My heart felt full and at peace as I floated contentedly back to the temple, and down through the ceiling of my bedchamber. As my spirit rejoined my body and I fell back into a deep sleep,
Rest now, my Beloved, and know that I am always with you…
whispered through my mind.

4

M
orning peered a bit too intently through a gap in the thick drapes that covered the floor-to-ceiling windows leading to my private flower garden.

“Uhf,” I muttered, just about to pull the covers over my head when I noticed a movement and looked across the room to see Alanna and Victoria sitting on my chaise watching me with bright eyes and wide grins.

I blinked and rubbed my eyes, hoping they were figments of my not yet awakened imagination.

They did not disappear. Actually, their annoyingly wide grins became wider.

“What are you two doing?” I grumped, glaring at my guests and running my tongue over my lips. My mouth tasted like the bottom of a birdcage.

I am not a morning person. Never have been—never want to be. As a matter of fact, I am vaguely distrustful of people who bound out of bed early like demented puppies. It's barbaric to wake up before 9:00 a.m.

“We are here to wish you joy at the blessed news of your daughter!” Alanna chirped.

“Yes, we tried to wait for you to awaken, but it is almost
midmorning and we could not wait any longer!” Even Victoria's lovely voice sounded shrill this morning. “And,” she added shyly, “I have some news I wanted to share with you.”

“You and Dougal are getting married,” I said as I reached for a long, silky nightshirt that lay across the bottom of the bed. I pulled it over my head in time to see Victoria's startled-sparrow expression.

“How…”

Sheepishly, I gave my standard answer, which covered everything. “Epona.”

“Ohhh,” the two of them said together, nodding their heads in unison.

“I think it's wonderful, Vic. You two are going to be great for each other.” I winked at Alanna, who giggled in response as I added, “And it'll be nice to see poor Dougal smile more often. He was one miserable centaur after you dumped him.”

It was hard to believe, but Victoria, Ms. Sure of Herself Huntress, actually blushed, which made her look shy and girl-like.

“I brought your tea, Rhea.” Alanna offered me a steaming mug of fragrant tea. I took it and perched on the chaise across from them.

“Thanks.” I blew at it and sipped.

“Your words forced me to listen,” the Huntress explained slowly. “I finally really listened to what he had been trying to get me to hear for quite some time. He does love me. Me.” Her face was radiant. “He does not wish I was younger. He does not want me to change and be a mate who stays close to his hearth. He understands that my position as Lead Huntress is, and will continue to be, my life.” The happiness that suffused her face made my breath catch. “He simply wants me.”

“Uh, Vic,” I said. “That's what Alanna and I have been
trying to tell you for ages. I guess I should have tossed my cookies on you sooner.”

This obviously reminded Alanna of the original purpose of their visit. “A daughter!” she shouted joyfully.

“A child! What a blessing,” Victoria chimed in.

“You two can quit grinning at me now. You're making me nervous.”

Two quick knocks sounded against my door.

“Come in!” I commanded. Three silken-clad maidens rushed into the room, carrying trays laden with what looked suspiciously like breakfast. All three of them began gushing at once.

“Congratulations, my Lady!”

“We are so very pleased!”

“The news is joyous!”

When I had first arrived in this world the general populace had treated me like a person who should be revered and honored, literally placed on a pedestal. The people who were close to me and used to dealing with Rhiannon on a daily basis treated me like I was a live bomb. They handled me carefully, but acted as if they expected me to explode at any moment into a goddess-level tantrum. It had taken a lot of consistent effort to convince the people I came in contact with on a regular basis that I had changed (unfortunately, I couldn't tell them I was literally a different person). Although it made me happy that over the past six months I had been able to coax my maidens into being at ease around me, this morning their familiar affection was making my head hurt. I felt dizzy as they milled around me, touching me reverentially after they set out my morning meal.

“Thanks, girls.” I tried to smile at them. “You may leave now.”

“Yes, my Lady!” They melted into graceful curtsies. As they
scampered to the door, I heard one of them whisper to the other, “Our Lady is
not
a morning person.”

“They give me a headache,” I said after the door closed.

“They adore you,” Alanna corrected me.

“They still give me a headache,” I grumped.

“Eat something. It will improve your humor,” Alanna said.

“We hope,” Victoria added.

I wrinkled my nose at her, then shifted my gaze to the food. There was a lovely fresh-fruit salad, some bran muffins that looked like they were still warm from the oven, thin sliced bread that had been toasted to a golden brown, as well as another pot of my herbal tea and pitchers filled with cold water and milk.

“I don't know if I can eat.” My stomach lurched dangerously.

“Try the toast first, then eat the bananas that are in the fruit salad. I directed the cook to bake these particular muffins because they are simple and healthful. Many times the key to controlling the sickness in the first months of pregnancy is to discover what soothes the mother's stomach,” she lectured in her musical voice.

I took a deep breath and picked up a piece of toast. After a sniff I started to nibble. My stomach stayed inside my body, which I took to be a good sign.

“Actually, the muffins are from a centaur recipe,” Vic said as she grabbed one off the platter and broke it open.

“Do centaurs go through this sickness thing when they get pregnant?” I asked Vic. As always my curiosity was piqued by these incredibly interesting beings.

“No.” She smiled at me apologetically. “But we carry our young within us through four full seasons.”

My eyes flew to Alanna. “That doesn't mean I'll have to—does it?” I sounded panicky (because I felt decidedly panicky).

“No,” Alanna reassured me, and I let myself breathe again. “ClanFintan only mates with you while he is in his human form.”

“Your gestation and birth will follow the same rules as any other human female's would,” Vic added.

Her words reminded me of last night's spirit journey and I felt a smile spread over my face.

“Epona let me witness a birth last night during the Magic Sleep.” I explained to my friends. “It was amazing.”

“It is truly a blessing.” Alanna beamed at me.

“A wondrous miracle,” Vic said through a mouthful of centaur muffin.

“I really am hap—”

Without warning my stomach revolted. I turned my head in time to miss my friends and spew semi-chewed toast and herbal tea all over the floor.

“Oh, yuck.” I wiped my mouth with a shaky hand, looking desperately at Alanna as she hurried to my side. “Are you sure I'm not dying?”

“I am sure,” she said as she poured some water from a pitcher into a goblet and offered it to me.

I drank gratefully, rinsing the nasty taste from my mouth.

“Come along.” Alanna pulled me to my feet. “You will feel better when you have bathed and dressed.” She handed me a muffin and my mug of tea. “ClanFintan told me that he could be found around the temple grounds overseeing the building of the new centaur quarters, and checking the winter supplies.”

“I have business near the new quarters, too.” Vic gave me a quick hug, then she wrinkled her nose. “You smell, Rhea.”

“Thanks for mentioning it.” I purposely breathed heavily in her direction, and she retreated hastily to the door. “I will see you after have recovered and returned to your goddess-like self,” she threw over her shoulder.

“You may have to wait till spring for that!” I yelled at her hind end.

I turned back to catch the surreptitious smile Alanna was trying to cover with a cough. “You know,” she said, “the ill feeling usually only lasts for a small part of a pregnancy. And,” she continued, ignoring my malevolent look, “I have noticed that women who are very ill in the beginning have the healthiest, happiest of babies.”

“Well, I suppose that's something.” I was still grumping, but it did make me feel better. I sniffed at the muffin in my hand, and realized I suddenly felt hungry. Taking a bite, I was happily surprised by the wonderful, nutty taste that suffused my mouth. “Do you think there's a limit on how often a pregnant woman can puke in one day?” I asked hopefully as we headed down my hall to the bathing chamber.

“No,” Alanna replied brightly.

Other books

The Willful Widow by Evelyn Richardson
Giving Up by Mike Steeves
Snakehead by Ann Halam
Fight For Me by Hayden Braeburn
Toxin by Robin Cook
Hair of the Dog by Susan Slater
Finding You (By You #3) by Kelly Harper
Mr Ma and Son by Lao She