P.C. Cast - Divine by Blood

“Nothing came out of the tree, my Lady.”

“There were no bodies?” I made myself ask, trying to push away the mental image of Clint’s decomposing corpse.

“No, my Lady. There were no bodies.”

“Are you sure? Did you see for yourself?” ClanFintan fired the questions.

“I am positive, my Lord. And, yes, I examined the tree for myself. I had just been relieved from the northern watch outside the temple grounds. I was returning when I heard a great cracking noise coming from the grove. I wasn’t far from it, and I know the Sacred Grove is important to Lady Rhiannon, so I went there immediately. The tree was still smoldering when I came upon it.”

“You have to go look,” I said to ClanFintan.

His nod was a tense jerk. “Get Dougal,” he told the guard. “Tell him to meet me at the north gate.”

“Yes, my Lord. My Lady.” He bowed formally to me and then hurried out.

“I will come with you,” Carolan said grimly. Then he and Alanna moved across the chamber, obviously allowing me some privacy with ClanFintan.

“If she’s here, she’s dead,” I said, sounding much calmer than I felt.

“Yes, but I wish to be sure that if she brought anything into Partholon with her reentry, it is dead, too.”

I nodded and looked down at Myrna’s sleeping face. Vulnerable. I felt so damn uncharacteristically vulnerable knowing that I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to my daughter…

“I will never allow anything to harm either of you.” ClanFintan’s voice was low and dangerous.

I met his steady gaze. “I know.” But it was clear in both of our eyes that we were remembering a few months ago. I had been pulled through that very tree and taken to Oklahoma, along with a resurrected evil we had all believed we had vanquished forever. And that had happened while ClanFintan watched, powerless to save me. I had only been able to return to Partholon through the sacrifice of ClanFintan’s human mirror, Clint Freeman, and the power that was in the ancient trees. “Be careful,” I said.

“Always,” he said. He kissed me and then Myrna. “Rest. I will not be gone long.”

He and Carolan rushed out of the chamber. I could hear him calling orders for the guards to double their watch on me and on the palace, which should have made me feel safe, but all it did was send a terrible wash of cold fear through my body. Myrna began to make restless noises, and I whispered reassurance to her.

“She’s probably hungry, Rhea.”

Thankfully, Alanna was at my side helping to arrange my soft nightdress so that Myrna could find my breast. I tried to relax and concentrate on the sublimely intimate act of nursing my daughter, but my thoughts wouldn’t be still. I had known the exact moment of Rhiannon’s death. The sacred tree that had imprisoned her had been destroyed. And then there were the Goddess’s cryptic words about the power of a mother’s love to heal and redeem.

Rhiannon had been pregnant when she’d been entombed.

“All will be well, Rhea.” Alanna lifted the now full and sleeping Myrna from my arms and placed her in the small cradle within reaching distance of my bed.

“I’m scared, Alanna.”

Alanna took the wide soft brush from my vanity and knelt behind me. Gently, she began brushing my hair in long, slow strokes.

“Epona will not allow you or Myrna to come to harm. You are her Chosen One, her Beloved. The Goddess protects her own. Rest now. You are safe here in the heart of Partholon, protected by all of us who love you. You have nothing to fear, my friend…nothing to fear…”

Alanna kept up a steady murmur of reassurance. The sweet sound of her voice and the gentle strokes of the brush coupled with the exhaustion of twenty-four hours of laboring and childbirth worked on me like a sleeping pill. My body was aching for rest. And just before I slipped into the comforting darkness, my last thought was that if there were no bodies found in the Sacred Grove in Partholon, then they must be in the mirror version of that grove in Oklahoma. What the hell was going on over there…?

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