Divine by Mistake (39 page)

“You are not asleep, are you?”

“No.” I opened my eyes and looked around.

ClanFintan had been traveling north, and we had passed out of the area in which the army was camping. I heard him answer a sentry’s hail, pausing only long enough for him to acknowledge the centaur’s salute before he continued moving. He veered to the right, and we were soon encased by the darkness of the forest. The moon had risen, and points of silver light drifted down through the ancient trees, washing everything in a surrealistic glow.

“Where are we going?”

“I have a surprise for you.”

“Really?” I started patting his vest for pockets.

“What are you looking for?”

“A jewelry box.”

He laughed. “Not that kind of surprise.”

He began looking around at the floor of the forest, like he was searching for something. Then I heard his satisfied grunt as he came to an old fallen tree. It looked as if it had been split almost exactly in half, probably by lightning. ClanFintan walked over to the largest half.

“Stand on this,” he said as he carefully deposited me on the log.

It was wide and sturdy, and I didn’t have any trouble balancing on it. I looked at him and grinned happily.

“Hey! I’m almost even with you now.” And I was. Almost. My eyes came about to his chin. I looped my arms around his shoulders and leaned into him, kissing the cleft in that chin.

He responded by wrapping his arms around my waist, finding my lips with his, and beginning a slow, sensuous kiss that seemed to have no end. I parted my lips and let him devour me, losing myself in the heat of him. I was glad he had his arms around me, because my knees began to feel decidedly weak. He pulled me against him. His lips began a hot trail down the side of my neck. I leaned into him, letting my hands travel over the hard muscles of his shoulders and back.

Without pausing in his exploration, I felt him untying the laces of my leather top, which he deftly pulled off me. His head lowered to my breasts as he began alternating erotically between nibbling, sucking and kissing. Then I felt his hand untying the laces of my pants. I held tightly to him and stepped out of them, so that now all I was wearing was one of my tiny thongs. I whispered, more than a little breathlessly, “I thought it wasn’t smart for you to shape-shift right now.”

His hands cupped my ass and he pulled me roughly against him again, whispering back into my mouth, “I am not going to shape-shift.” He playfully took my bottom lip between his teeth.

“Oh,” I said when he released my lip. “Then what—”

“That is the surprise.”

Staying in the safety of his arms, I leaned back a little bit so I could see his eyes.

“I don’t understand.”

He kept one arm around me as he talked; the other was busy with my body. First he caressed my breasts gently.

“I had a talk with Carolan—” His voice was low and seductive, and what his hand was doing was making my head feel dizzy. “About human female anatomy.”

I blinked, not sure if I’d heard him correctly.

“What? I still don’t understand.”

His hand traveled from my breasts to my waist and stomach. “Relax, you will.” His hand dipped down, slipping inside my thong and sliding easily over the hot moistness he found there.

I sucked in my breath and leaned my head against his shoulder, letting my own hand roam under his open vest.

“I asked him how I could pleasure you when I was not able to shape-shift.” His fingers moved back and forth. “He explained several things to me.” He bent and captured my mouth again, while his fingers kept up their erotic dance.

Slowly, he broke the kiss, and whispered to me. “And our talk gave me an idea. Trust me, and I think you will enjoy yourself.”

“I’m already enjoying myself,” I said breathlessly.

He smiled. “There is more.”

“Oh, God,” I moaned.

He smiled again and explained, “I am going to put you on my back. I want you to scoot forward, press your body against me, and wrap your arms tightly around me. Then move with my rhythm.” He kissed me again.

I made a mewing sound when his fingers stilled, then retreated. He held me with one hand, and with the other he quickly stripped off his vest, leaving his torso bare. Then I felt his strong hands encircle my waist, and he lifted me, placing me firmly on his back.

He turned his head and spoke over his shoulder. “Hold me tightly.”

I moved myself as far forward as I could, loving the feel of my naked breasts against the heat of his back. I wrapped my arms tightly around him, stroking my hands from his chest down to his hard stomach, while I kissed and nibbled on the line of his shoulder blades.

“Now press yourself against me as I move.” His voice was thick with desire, and I felt chills travel down my inner thighs in response.

He started out, moving in a rolling canter. I felt my pelvis rock with him, back and forth, back and forth, as if his hand was still caressing me. I moaned and buried my face between his shoulder blades. His arms covered my arms. Then, slowly, his gait increased, and the rhythmic rocking increased…and increased…and increased…until suddenly I found myself exploding and dissolving into him.

It was so good it made my back teeth ache—I swear.

His gallop decreased in speed as he circled back to our log. By the time we were back where we started, I felt as if I had no bones left in my body. Not that I minded.

“Rhea, I’m going to set you on the log.”

I nodded sleepily against his back, and he gently lifted me to the log.

“Open your eyes so I know you will not fall when I let go of you.”

I opened my eyes and stretched like a cat.

He watched me for a moment with a pleased expression on his face. Then he asked, “Did you like your surprise?”

“Absolutely.” (Note to self: thank Carolan.) I looked at him dreamily. “But what about you?”

“Me?” He was putting his vest back on and searching around for my shirt and pants.

“Yeah. You know, is there something I can do to, um,
pleasure
you?” I held my breath waiting for his answer.

It came in the form of a horse-size belly laugh.

“I think not, love,” he said when he was able to control himself.

He handed me my clothes, still chuckling to himself.

I was feeling a little disgruntled and slightly embarrassed as I jerked my clothes back on, trying to tie the intricate laces myself.

“Let me do that.” His fingers took over for mine as I swept my hair out of the way.

When he was finished he noticed my (unusual) silence. I didn’t meet his eyes, but I felt him study me, and when I did allow myself to glance up at him I saw his eyes widened in sudden understanding. He took my chin in his hand and tilted my face so that I had to meet his gaze.

“I did not mean to belittle or embarrass you. I am pleased that you offered, but—” his smile lit up the night, and I felt my lips turning up in response “—you are such a small human.” He chuckled again and kissed me gently.

I let my arms slide around his shoulders, and he put one arm around my back and one arm under my legs, carrying me close to him as we headed back to the camp. I rested my head on his shoulder.

“But it doesn’t seem fair. I want to please you, too.” Although I did really enjoy the fact that he thought of me as “small.”

“Your pleasure is my own,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice and kissed the top of my head. “Do you not understand that I was born to love you?”

You belong to one another, Beloved.

The Goddess’s words filled my mind. “Yes, I understand.” My voice was choked with emotion. I watched his strong profile in the moonlight, and saw his lips turn up in a contented smile.

It was at that moment that I vowed to myself,
I will never be parted from him.

The sounds of horses’ hooves rustling through dried leaves called me from my deep, dreamless sleep. Then I smelled something that reminded me of scrambled eggs…and frying meat. I rolled over, trying to find a comfortable spot on the hard ground so that I could drift back to sleep, but deep voices shouting orders made me crack open my eyes. It was still dark, but I could see that a pale hint of dawn was beginning to push night away.

“Good morning, Lady Rhea!” Sila’s cheerful voice assaulted me.

“Morning,” I muttered in reply, rubbing my eyes.

“Victoria found a nest of partridge eggs, do they not smell delicious?” She beamed at me as she reached down and stirred the contents of an iron pot that was perched between two rocks so that it hung above the campfire.

“Yeah, they smell great.” They did, but the aches and soreness in my slowly awakening muscles sucked the life out of the pleasure I took in the yummy smell.

I’d forgotten how horrible traveling centaurback for a protracted period of time was. Every muscle in my body screamed for my mineral pool and a nice massage. I stood slowly, feeling each second of my thirty-five-plus years, multiplied by ten. My hair was a nest. My back hurt. And my breath probably smelled like someone’s dirty toes.

I really hated camping.

I tried to return Sila’s perky smile (great—another morning centaur). “I’m going to, uh, freshen up.”

“Wonderful! The eggs should be ready when you return.”

How could anyone be so happy before the sun had risen?

“Okay,” I mumbled and began limping toward the riverbank. On the way centaurs kept calling me by name and wishing me a good morning. I did my best to be polite, especially when several of them commented graciously on the
Phantom of the Temple
story. I found a receptive bush, and managed to scale my way to the river, wash my hands, face and scrub my teeth with my finger, then scramble my way back up the bank.

Ah, the Wonderful World of Camping—may it rot in hell.

A huge amount of scrambled eggs mixed with reheated Bambi was hot off the grill as I grumbled my way back into camp. ClanFintan, Dougal and two more young centaurs I recognized from the night before were already eating. I wondered where Vic was, but common sense told me Ms. Huntress was probably already scouting around, looking for something tender to kill.

“Good morning, my Lady.” ClanFintan gave me a quick smile and handed me a wide leaf filled with steaming egg and meat.

“Morning.” I tried to smile back. I sat on the log and carefully scooped the hot mixture into my mouth with my fingers, and noticed my bedding was already packed away somewhere. Everyone looked eager to hit the road.

“Will we reach the temple today?” I asked ClanFintan as I chewed the surprisingly scrumptious egg mixture.

“Yes, we should arrive just before dusk.”

“They do know we’re coming, don’t they?” I asked.

“Runners were sent, as well as carrier-pigeon messages. They know our plan.”

“Any word on the condition of the ladies?”

“None. The centaur runners were directed to stay there and prepare for our arrival, and nothing was mentioned through pigeon messages.”

“Rats with wings,” I muttered around a piece of egg à la Bambi.

ClanFintan gave me a questioning look.

“Just ignore me—I’m grumpy in the morning.” I looked around at the lack of light. “And especially grumpy in the premorning.”

ClanFintan laughed good-naturedly. “You just need to get going. Once we have started you can go right back to sleep.” He lowered his voice and brushed a curl away from my face. “If I remember correctly, you are quite comfortable astride me.”

I playfully slapped his hand away and smiled through my eggs. “You’re so fresh.”

“Come!” He grinned and lifted me off the log and onto his broad back. “You can finish the rest as we travel.”

“Yeah, great,” I said as I brushed his thick hair out of my leaf plate so I could eat the last bites of my breakfast, and seriously wished for some coffee.

The centaurs broke camp quickly, and soon the army was on its way. I had to admit it was a gorgeous morning. It was still too damn early, but even I could appreciate an exuberant display of Mother Nature Morningness. The sun rose over the forest, shining precociously with a clear, brilliant tint. Today our path took us more toward the picturesque bank that had been growing ever steeper. It was beautiful, though, lined with weeping willows, cottonwoods, and I was even pretty sure I glimpsed an occasional wild-cherry tree. A thousand centaurs’ hooves muted the noise of the river, but its majesty was visible when the foliage thinned out, and its tumultuous rush downriver impressed me.

About midday we paused long enough to pass around dried meat and hard biscuits. ClanFintan deposited me near the bank so I could stretch my legs. While I was attempting a runner’s lunge, the direction of the wind changed. It had been blowing softly from east to west, now it originated in the west, and it was blowing harder. It lifted the branches of the willows, making them look like a woman’s long hair blowing in the breeze.

I turned my face into the breeze, shaking out my own hair, liking the way it was lifted off my shoulders. I breathed deeply, stretching my sore muscles, and…

“Shew! What is that nasty smell?” The breeze brought with it a decidedly gaseous scent.

“Ufasach Marsh.” ClanFintan wrinkled his nose as he, too, tested the air.

“Ugh, it’s horrible. Smells like my grandma’s compost heap.”

“Those who live near the marsh say it has its own unique beauty.”

“Yuck—they can have it. How close is it, anyway?” I walked over to stand on the precipice of the bank, squinting and shielding my eyes from the reflection of the midday sun off the turbulent water. I could barely make out the far bank. I could tell it wasn’t high like the eastern bank, but all I could see were more willows—no clinging moss hanging from branches or snakes or alligators.

“What I have been told is that it begins about the length of twenty-five centaurs inland from the western bank, and stretches almost the entire breadth of the land from the Temple of the Muse to the northern border of Epona’s grounds.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I have never traveled through the marsh. Centaurs avoid swampy ground.”

“Well, I’m with you on that one. Snakes, leeches, stinky water…yeesh! Makes my skin crawl just thinking about it.”

Movement of the troops behind us caught our attention. I stretched one more time, then held up my arms so that ClanFintan could redeposit me on his back, and we could take up our position at the head of the army.

Smallpox, or no smallpox—I was going to be really glad to get to the Temple of the Muse. My butt felt like it was adhering to my husband’s back, which is not a particularly good thing.

The day progressed pretty much as the previous day. The farther north we traveled, the thicker the forest became. Soon the line of centaurs was forced to re-form and travel in columns of twos. But they kept up their ground-eating canter. Even though I’d witnessed it before, their stamina amazed me. ClanFintan’s breath came just as easily after he’d been traveling for several hours as it had this morning before the sun had risen. I’m telling you, centaurs could seriously kick butt in an aerobics class…My head snapped up and I realized I’d been nodding off.

ClanFintan’s head began to tilt back in my direction and I spoke before he could.

“I know—” I cuddled up against him, and he looped his arm over mine “—you won’t let me fall.”

“Never,” he repeated.

I smiled against his warm back and let myself drift off into a deep sleep.

I was in a parent–teacher conference with one of our school’s counselors and our vice principal in charge of discipline. Across the table from me sat a student and his mommy. Even in my dreams I’m too professional to mention any names, but I will describe said student as a replica of The Missing Link, if The Link had been introduced to marijuana, so that his general appearance had become reminiscent of a Neanderthal-like sloth. His mommy was blond, perky and extremely well dressed—begging the question: just exactly how much alcohol and/or recreational drugs had she consumed while he was in utero?

I was just explaining to Mommy, accompanied by a standing ovation from the counselor and vice principal (who, by the way, was being played by Pierce), that her sixteen-year-old “baby boy” was neither under-challenged nor too bright to be interested in sophomore English, he was simply a lazy, whiny, pot-smoking brat who could be the poster child for why we should bring caning into America’s public schools…

…When I was sucked off of my husband’s back and found myself suspended over the middle of the violently churning river.

“I don’t mean any offense by this, but this time you interrupted one of my top ten favorite dreams,” I said to the air around me. “And I was just getting to the real fantasy part where the vice principal actually backs up a teacher.” There was no response, but my body did begin hurling north, following the river.

“Someday, do you think I’ll be able to sleep without these little…excursions?” I asked aloud.

Patience, Beloved.

“Not one of my virtues,” I mumbled.

Then my attention was captivated by the huge building I was rapidly approaching. It was a domed edifice, and even from a distance the stately arches of carved marble were impressive. As I got closer I saw that what I took at first to be one enormous building was really several graceful structures, joined together by elaborate walkways and gardens. The center building was the focus, and the surrounding structures were situated like spokes in a wheel. I was close enough now to see that women dressed in flowing robes walked the pathways between buildings. Many of their heads were tilted together, as if they were in the midst of lively discussions.

Although all of the buildings were beautiful, the central building was the most impressive. I studied it, intrigued by the lifelike statues that ringed its entrance. In the garden before it, a woman was speaking to a group of young women sitting all around her feet. She gestured gracefully with one hand, and with the other she held an exquisite cane carved of ivory. Her beauty was so striking that if she hadn’t moved I would have thought her one of the perfect marble statues.

As I hovered nearer, she suddenly stopped speaking, and cocked her head like she was listening to a voice in her mind. Then her face broke into a delighted smile, and she tilted her head up, speaking directly to me.

“Welcome, Beloved of Epona!”

The girls at her feet (I was close enough now to see that they, too, were unusually beautiful) murmured excitedly and began searching the air as though they were trying to see me.

Thalia, Incarnate Muse of Comedy,
the voice in my mind volunteered.

“Thank you, Thalia,”
I answered politely, trying to project my spirit voice.

She cocked her head again, like she could hear but not see me, and asked, “Are you and the centaurs close?”

“We’ll be here a little after dusk,”
I yelled.

Her smile broadened and she turned her head, speaking to the girl nearest her feet. “Fiona, run to the main temple and announce that the centaurs will be here shortly after dusk!”

Delighted cries and giggles went up from the healthy, obviously smallpox-free girls. I wondered if we had been premature in isolating humans from this temple.

“We will be pleased to welcome you this evening, Lady Rhea.” She tilted her face up, and I had the sudden realization that her eyes could not see my spirit body, or anything else. Her milky orbs had no pupils—she was blind.

All I had time to do was sputter a quick “Goodbye!” and I was on the move again, this time heading directly into the west, where the sun had already begun its descent.

The land surrounding the Muses’ temple was reflective of the women’s beauty. The mountains to the north made a picturesque backdrop to a valley painted with fields of wildflowers and irrigated with bubbling streams. I was preoccupied with gawking at the scenery beneath me, so when Laragon Castle loomed suddenly before me, I felt myself startle in surprise.

Torches burned brightly from the battlements and the interior rooms and courtyards. Tall, winged figures scurried around the surrounding grounds, shooing away flocks of dark birds so that they could drag pieces of bodies into a gruesome pile at the edge of the castle grounds.

I closed my eyes and whispered, “Please don’t make me go down there.”

Be strong, Beloved. Remember, I am with you
was my only answer, but, thankfully, my body didn’t pause at the carnage outside the castle. Instead, I floated quickly toward an inner towered room that was lit up with an overabundance of torches, candles and hearth fires.

Epona didn’t have to prepare me. I knew what I would be facing as my body dropped through the ceiling of the room.

Nuada was alone, sitting in a thronelike chair before a blazing hearth. His abnormally long, ivory-colored fingers were wrapped around a goblet of red liquid. I hoped it was a nice Merlot, but I had my doubts.

“Worrying about the battle to come, Nuada?”
my ghostly voice asked.

He didn’t hiss and lunge toward me, as was his custom. Instead, he sipped delicately at the liquid in his cup, and smiled over his shoulder at me.

“Not worrying, female, anticipating tomorrow night, when you will be mine to claim.” As he spoke, his lips glistened with the red wetness from the thick liquid in the cup.

“Good idea. You have one last night of freedom. You might as well stay deluded and make it easier on yourself,”
I said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice.

He stood slowly, like a snake uncoiling, and turned toward my voice. He rested one hand on the high back of the chair, in the other he still held the goblet.

“I have decided that I will not kill you. Instead, I will keep you alive for a very long time, so that you will have the opportunity to pleasure me over and over again.”

“Really?”
I laughed and felt my body shimmer into view.
“I’m afraid my centaur husband will not approve of your little plan.”