by her goddess!
Rhiannon remembered everything. The willful choices she’d made during her life that constantly had her at odds with the Great Goddess Epona. The rape that had been her ascension ritual. The fact that Epona had never been content with her. The realization that no one in Partholon truly loved her—that they only worshipped her as an extension of the Goddess. The Magic Sleep vision wherein she had glimpsed the Fomorian demons infiltrating Guardian Castle and plotting the destruction of Partholon. The whisperings from the darkness that told her there was another way…another world…another choice. The vision of that other world she had been given through the power of that dark voice. And her decision to exchange herself for Shannon Parker, the mundane woman from that world whose physical appearance was so like hers that they could have been born from the same womb.
Rhiannon’s body trembled as she remembered the rest of it. How Clint, the Shaman she had found in this world, the mirror image of Partholon’s High Shaman ClanFintan, had refused to help her harness the power in this odd world where technology was magic and magic was an almost entirely untapped resource. So she had been forced to use dark powers to call forth a servant to aid her.
But something had gone terribly wrong. Clint had summoned Shannon from Partholon, and the two of them had joined to use their powers to defeat her.
The trees had named Shannon, not Rhiannon, as Epona’s Chosen, Beloved of the Goddess.
Epona no longer spoke Rhiannon’s name. The Goddess did not acknowledge her as Chosen. When Rhiannon had realized this, something within her had broken. Rhiannon felt sick remembering how lost and afraid she had felt. But the wound was not so fresh now.
Epona had betrayed her and allowed her to be entombed, while the usurper, Shannon, returned triumphant to Partholon and the life that should have been hers. And her child’s. You haven’t been betrayed by everyone… She now knew to whom the voice in her head belonged. The Triple-Faced God, Pryderi.
Pryderi…
The name moved through her mind, not as the explosion her own naming had been. Instead it was an alluring whisper.
I am still here with you. It is, after all, women who have always betrayed you. Your mother died and left you. Shannon stole what was yours by right. Epona turned from you simply because you would not be her puppet.
The dark god was right. Women had always betrayed her.
If you give yourself and your daughter to me I will never betray you. In return for your obedience, I will give you Partholon.
Rhiannon wanted to close her mind to the small voice within her that warned against allying herself with darkness. She wanted to give in and accept Pryderi’s offer instantly, but she could not ignore the sense of desolation the thought of embracing another god gave her. Logically, she knew that Epona’s favor had left her—that the Goddess had turned from her forever. But even though Rhiannon had looked to other gods…other powers…she had never taken that final step. The irretraceable step of rejecting Epona and giving herself completely to another god.
If she did that she would never be able to stand before Epona again. And what if the Goddess decided she’d made a mistake? If Rhiannon could free herself from this horrid imprisonment and return to Partholon, was there not a chance that Epona might, once again, recognize her as Chosen? Especially after she gave birth to her daughter, whose blood would be rich with the legacy of generation after generation of Partholon’s priestesses?
What say you, Rhiannon? Will you pledge yourself to me?
Rhiannon could feel the edge in the god’s voice. She had left him waiting for an answer too long. Hastily, she collected herself and sent her thoughts out to him.
You are wise, Pryderi. I am well and truly tired of being betrayed. Rhiannon formed her response carefully. But how can I pledge myself to any god while I am still imprisoned?You know a priestess must be free to perform the ascension ritual that will bind her to a god as Chosen.
Pryderi remained silent for so long that Rhiannon began to fear she had pushed too hard. She should have just pledged herself to him! What if he left her now? She might be trapped for eternity.
It is true that a priestess must freely give herself to a god. Then we shall simply free you so that you can pledge yourself and your daughter to my service. The tree that was her living tomb shuddered, and Rhiannon’s heartbeat quickened. She’d gambled and won! Pryderi was going to free her! She strained against the weight that pressed all around her…trapping her…suffocating her.
That is not the way to freedom. You must be patient, my Precious One.
Rhiannon bit back an automatic retort. No. She must learn from the past. Confronting a god openly was not wise…
What shall I do? She sent the thought out, tempering her frustration and making sure her question felt obedient and eager.
Use your earth affinity. Not even Epona can take that gift away from you. It is a part of your soul—of the very blood that runs in your veins. Only this time you will not bother with the Goddess’s trees. Seek the dark places. Sense the shadows within shadow. Call their power to you, Precious One. The time of your child’s birth draws near. With her birth, you will be reborn to the earth. And to a new era in the service of a god.
I understand. Rhiannon centered herself. She was no novice priestess. She knew how to wield great power and channel the magic of the earth. Looking to the darkness was no different from tapping into the hidden power of the trees. She refused to think about what Shannon had said—that the trees willingly aided her and called her Epona’s Chosen. Instead she concentrated on the darkness—on night and shadow and the cloak of blackness that monthly covers the new moon.
She felt the power. It wasn’t the heady rush she’d known in Partholon when Epona’s blessing had touched her, but power was there and it was drawn to her.
Like a vessel slowly being filled, Rhiannon waited and the child within her grew.
1
Oklahoma
“A storm comes.” John Peace Eagle squinted into the southwest sky.
His grandson barely glanced up from his portable Playstation. “Grandpa, if you’d get cable out here you wouldn’t have to do all that sky watching. You could check out the Weather Channel instead, or watch it on the news like everyone else.”
“This storm could not be predicted by mundane means.” The old Choctaw Wisdom Keeper spoke without turning from his study of the sky. “Go now. Take the truck and return to your mother’s house.”
This did make the teenager look. “Really? I can take your truck?”
Peace Eagle nodded. “I’ll get a ride into town sometime this week and pick it up.”
“Cool!” The boy grabbed his backpack and gave his grandpa a quick hug. “See ya, Grandpa.”
It was only after Peace Eagle heard the engine roar and then fade as the boy drove down the dirt road that led to the two-lane highway to town that he began to prepare.
Rhythmically
