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.”

“Husband!” His hiss was back. “Sever your ties, female. You belong to me.”

I felt anger fill my soul and I spat the words at him, “You disgusting creature! ClanFintan will squash you under his hooves like the roach you are, and send you back to rot in hell where you belong! Take a good look at me, because this is as close as he will ever allow you to come.”

His wings began to rustle in angry response and he shrieked, “Tomorrow night, female! You will belong to me!”

As he hurled the goblet at me, Epona pulled me away from that disgusting scene. I kept my eyes tightly closed until I felt myself resettle into my body.

I breathed deeply and tightened my grip around my husband. He squeezed my arm in response.

“They’re at Laragon Castle,” I said.

He took my hand and raised it to his lips.

“They’re going to attack the Muses tomorrow night.”

“That is according to our plan.”

“He’ll be looking for you.”

“Good.” His voice was flat and dangerous. “That will save me the trouble of searching him out.” He barked an order at the centaur closest to us in the column. “Tell Dougal to loose the pigeons to send word to the human armies. We attack Laragon tomorrow night.”

I started to tell him to be careful, but just then we rounded a bend in the river and a joyous cry went up from a crowd of enthusiastic girls on the opposite bank. The Temple of the Muse stood brightly lit by the setting sun. The centaurs began shouting and waving in reply. ClanFintan called a command and the entire army broke into a synchronized gallop.

Which would have been an exhilarating experience, except I could see that we were headed directly for a delicate-looking suspension bridge that was obviously the only means of crossing the raging river.

“Oh, crap,” I said.

ClanFintan shouted above the cries of the welcoming women, “Close your eyes and hold on! You know I will never let you fall.”

I shut my eyes and buried my head into his thick hair, muttering, “Great, that means we’ll both hurtle to our deaths when the damn thing breaks.”

I could feel his laughter shaking his shoulders as he stepped onto the bridge.

“I just hope I don’t puke.”

“If you do, turn your head. And remember, they are here to welcome you, too.”

“Ohhhh!” I felt us swaying with the breeze and the weight of the centaurs who followed us.

“You couldn’t choose now to make me go on one of my spirit-trip things?” I asked my Goddess.

Trust him, Beloved. He will never let you fall drifted through my mind, but I swear it was accompanied by goddess-like laughter.

13

The Temple of the Muse was even more impressive from the ground. We followed a flower-strewn path to the central building, then beautiful young women divided up the army, leading each group to their quarters amidst lots of young human voices giggling and centaurs laughing. Thalia was on the steps of the great building to greet us. She wore a long, silver gown that sparkled like it had been threaded with zillions of tiny diamonds. Her thick, honey-colored hair was braided with fragrant gardenias and hung past the middle of her back. The deepening twilight cast her blind eyes into shadow.

“Welcome again, Epona’s Chosen.” She smiled warmly. “And Shaman ClanFintan, we are always pleased to have you visit us.”

“Thalia…” ClanFintan walked forward and took her hand as she offered it, raising it briefly to his lips. “You never age.”

Her laughter was infectious. “Save your flattery for your new wife,” she said, but with obvious affection. Then she tilted her head toward me. “Lady Rhea, I have waited long to welcome you.”