But if she did not renounce Pryderi, her daughter would be destined to serve the same darkness Rhiannon now recognized had been shadowing her entire life, whispering discontent, echoing anger and selfishness and hatred, and, most destructive of all, twisting love into something unrecognizable.
Rhiannon could not bear the thought that her daughter’s life might be as tainted as her own had become. If Morrigan was trapped in this world, then so be it. At least she would not be trapped by the lies of evil, too.
“I renounce Pryderi, the Triple-Faced God, and I reject his hold on me—and my daughter, Morrigan MacCallan,” Rhiannon said. Then she waited. She had been the priestess and Chosen of a powerful goddess since she was a girl. She knew how serious it was to renounce a deity. There should be a sign, be it internal or external, that would show Destiny had been altered. Gods did not bear rejection well, especially not dark gods.
“The dark one knows you are near death and very close to the realm of spirits. His hold on you is tight. He is not releasing you.”
The old man’s words were softly spoken, but Rhiannon felt them as if he had sliced into her heart. Even though she was growing weaker, she forced her arms to tighten around her daughter’s tiny body.
“I did not pledge Morrigan to him. Pryderi has no hold over her.”
“But you are still bound to him,” the old man said gravely.
Rhiannon was finding it difficult to fight against the exhaustion that was graying the edges of her vision. She was cold. She wished the old shaman would leave her alone and let her stare at her daughter until…
“Rhiannon, you must listen to me!” He shook her. “If you die bound to Pryderi your spirit will never know the presence of your goddess again. You will never know light or joy again. You will spend eternity blanketed in the night of the dark god and the despair that taints all he touches.”
“I know,” she whispered. “But I am finished fighting. It seems all I’ve done for as long as I can remember is fight. I’ve been too selfish, caused too much pain. Done too much harm. Perhaps it is time for me to pay for that.”
“Perhaps it is, but should your daughter pay for your mistakes, too?”
His words jolted her, and she blinked back the encroaching darkness in her eyes. “Of course she shouldn’t. What are you saying, old man?”
“You did not pledge her to him, but Pryderi desires a priestess with the blood of Epona’s Chosen in her veins. With you dead, who do you think will be his next victim?”
“No!” But she knew he was right. Pryderi had admitted to shadowing her for decades. He wouldn’t do any less to her daughter. Rhiannon shuddered. Morrigan would not be haunted by the darkness she had allowed to whisper and beguile her—and twist her love for her goddess into something ugly. “No,” she repeated. “Morrigan will not be his next choice.”
“Then you must call upon your goddess to force Pryderi to relinquish his hold on you.”
Rhiannon felt a surge of despair. “Epona has turned her face from me.”
“But have you renounced your bond to her?”
“I have done things abhorrent to her.” And for the first time in her life Rhiannon admitted that it had been she who had betrayed her goddess’s faith long before Epona had stopped speaking to her. “She no longer hears me.”
“Perhaps the Goddess has been waiting to hear the right words from you.”
Rhiannon stared into the shaman’s eyes. If there was just the slightest possibility that he might be right she would try. She would call upon Epona. She was close to death—perhaps her goddess would take pity on her. She could feel the misty veil already shrouding her body and numbing her to this world. Surely even from Partholon Epona knew what had befallen her. Rhiannon closed her eyes and centered herself.
“Epona, Great Goddess of Partholon—goddess of my youth—goddess of my heart. Please hear me one last time. Forgive me for my selfish mistakes. Forgive me for allowing darkness to taint your light. Forgive me for the pain I caused you and others.” Rhiannon paused, struggling to focus her thoughts and to stave off the cloying numbness that was traveling throughout her body. “I know I do not deserve your favor, but I ask that you stop Pryderi from claiming my soul and my daughter’s.”
The wind picked up her words and rattled and shook them until they sounded like rain sloughing through autumn leaves. Rhiannon opened her eyes. The shadows beneath the giant sacred oak, the twin to the destroyed tree under which she lay, began to stir and her heart fluttered in panic. Had Pryderi returned to claim her, despite the presence of the shaman and the power of their ancient drums? Then a ball of light burst into being, chasing away the darkness. From the center of the light a figure began to form. Rhiannon’s breath caught and tears filled her eyes. The old shaman bowed his head respectfully.
“Welcome, Great Goddess,” he said.
Epona smiled at the old man. John Peace Eagle, know that for your actions tonight you have my gratitude and my blessing.
“Thank you, Goddess,” he said solemnly.
Then Epona turned her gaze to Rhiannon. With a trem-bling hand, she wiped the tears from her eyes so that she could see the Goddess more clearly. In her childhood Epona had materialized for her several times, but as she had entered her rebellious teenage years, and then become a selfish, indulged adult, the Goddess had quit visiting her, quit speaking to her, and eventually, had quit hearing her. Now Rhiannon felt her soul quicken at the sight of her goddess.
“Forgive me, Epona!” she cried.
I forgive you, Rhiannon. I forgave you before you asked it of me. I, too, have been at fault. I saw your weakness and knew your soul was being courted by darkness. My love for you blinded me to the level of your self-destruction.
Rhiannon bit back the excuses that always so readily came to her tongue. “I was wrong,” was all she said. Then she drew a deep breath, fighting against the numbness that sought to steal away her words. “Epona, I ask that you break the bonds Pryderi has on me. I have renounced him, but as you know, I am near death. His hold on my soul is strong.”
Epona studied her fallen priestess carefully before asking, Why do you ask such a thing of me, Rhiannon? Is it because you fear what will happen to your spirit after death?
“Goddess, I find now that death is near many things in my life have become clear.” She glanced down at the child she still held in her weakening arms. “Or perhaps it is the presence of my daughter that has allowed the scales to fall from my eyes.” She looked up at the Goddess. “The truth is that, yes, I am afraid to spend eternity in despair and darkness, but I would not have called upon you to save me from the fate I know I deserve.” Rhiannon choked, coughed, and took several gasping breaths before she could continue. “I called upon you because I could not bear the thought that my daughter would be claimed by the same darkness that has poisoned so much of my life. If you break the bonds Pryderi has upon my soul I do not ask that I be allowed to enter your meadows. I ask that you allow me to exist in the Otherworld, where I can keep watch on her and try to whisper good when the dark god whispers evil.”
Eternity in the Otherworld is not an easy fate. There is no rest to be found there—no meadows of light and laughter to succor your world-weary
