looked sharply at Ciara. “Why are you so insistent that I have these instincts?”
“I already told you, Huntress. I sense it, and I am rarely wrong. Actually my guess is that you do use the Shaman within you, and you use her quite often.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your gift is an affinity for the spirits of the animals, is it not?” Without waiting for her answer, Ciara continued. “The instincts that help you to be such a successful Huntress are the same that will help you heal Cuchulainn’s soul. If it disturbs you to think of the act as one of a Shaman, can you not simply consider the quest as just another hunt?”
The centaur blinked in surprise. “You mean all I need to do is track the pieces of Cu’s soul?”
“Perhaps…” She flashed a small, secret smile at Brighid. “Listen carefully within and tell me.”
Stifling the urge to shake the winged woman, Brighid took a deep breath and concentrated. Cuchulainn’s soul was shattered. How could that be fixed? Instead of throwing up her hands and shouting that she had no damned idea, she took another breath. Think, she ordered herself. Make it a hunt. The prey would be different—instead of a deer or a wild boar, I would be tracking a spirit, which meant I must go where spirits dwell—into the Otherworld, the Realm of Spirits. The Huntress shivered again, and this time it had nothing to do with the cold or the wind.
“I have to track Cu’s broken soul into the Realm of Spirits,” Brighid said with much more confidence than she felt. “And bring it back with me. Somehow.”
“Yes,” Ciara agreed, “but you need to understand that your goal differs from that of a hunt. You cannot attack or entrap. A Shaman should never coerce, threaten, or force any soul to return. In doing so, you would be interfering with the free will of the individual.”
Brighid sighed and squinted into the silver flame. “So it’s not just a matter of finding the broken pieces of Cu’s spirit?”
“No. Think of yourself as a guide, or more accurately as a mediator between the warrior and his retreated soul. That is why it is important that Cuchulainn agree to the retrieval. Without his approval his soul will never become whole.”
“Does it matter that the only reason Cu agreed to this is so that he can have a clear conscience when he kills himself?” Brighid asked sardonically.
Ciara’s kind smile didn’t waver. “Once his spirit is whole again, the warrior will not kill himself—and part of Cuchulainn already knows that.”
“I hope you’re right about that, Shaman.”
“Trust me,” Ciara said.
Brighid met the Shaman’s steady gaze. Just days ago she would never have imagined trusting any of the hybrids, but wings or no wings, Ciara exuded honesty and goodness. She was trustworthy. Slowly the Huntress bowed her head respectfully to the winged woman, just as Brighid had seen so many centaurs acknowledge their trust in her mother.
“I choose to trust you, Shaman,” Brighid said.
“Thank you,” Ciara breathed, visibly moved by the centaur’s show of respect.
“So, what is my first step on this spirit hunt?” Brighid asked.
“You’ve begun the first step. Before soul-retrieval can be attempted there must be a bridge of caring and understanding between the warrior and you. You are his friend. Simply strengthen the bond that is already in place between you.”
Brighid snorted. “That’s damn difficult to do when Cu’s as withdrawn and surly as a bobcat.”
“Then you must explain to him why he must be open to you. It is your job to do the journeying and to expose yourself to the spiritual rigors of the Otherworld. His part in the process is to allow you access to his spirit—in this world, as well as the other.”
“Cu’s not going to like that.”
“The warrior is an intelligent man. Like it or not, he’ll understand the necessity of it.”
Brighid wanted to say that she didn’t like it either. The idea of trammeling around within another’s spirit felt like an invasion of the worst type. And, unexpectedly, she thought how much easier this would be if she could speak with her mother, but it was a desire she tamped down almost as quickly as she thought it.
“So I talk to him. I’m friendly with him. Then what?”
“In order to retrieve his soul, you will need to journey deep within the Realm of Spirits, and that is something you cannot safely do while we travel. It would not do to have your body and your spirit both displaced. I am an experienced Shaman, and even I would be reluctant to journey to the Otherworld before we’re settled in Partholon. Instead what you must do now is lay the foundation for your quest.” She paused and flashed Brighid a quick smile. “Or, as you would call it, your hunt. When you return to MacCallan Castle, and your body is safe at your home, then you will take the Shaman’s Path to the Otherworld.”
Relieved she wouldn’t be doing any spirit traveling in the near future, Brighid felt the nervous tension in her body relax.
“Between here and MacCallan Castle think of Cuchulainn each night before you sleep, for it is during our sleeping hours that we are closest to the Otherworld. Send positive thoughts of him into your dreams. Begin to imagine him as he once was—whole and happy.”
Brighid nodded. “I can do that.”
“You will also need a soul-catching stone. This stone is always a gift from the spirit realm. Sometimes it comes directly from Epona. Sometimes it is brought to the Shaman from her animal ally.”
“But I’m not a Shaman, and I certainly don’t have an animal ally!”
Ciara shrugged. “Perhaps you won’t need the gift of a soul-catcher. All I’m suggesting is that you stay open to the possibility.”
“Fine. If a stone drops from the sky onto my head I’ll be sure to pick it up and keep it.”
Ciara laughed. “Be careful. Too often the spirit realm takes our jests seriously.”
More good news, the Huntress thought.
“And while you’re watching out for stones, you might also want to keep your eyes open for your animal ally.”
“My animal ally?”
“It’s just a thought. Even though you are not a Shaman, your affinity for the spirits of animals is strong, so it wouldn’t be beyond belief for you to be gifted with an animal guide from the spirit realm.”
Thinking of the raven that was so closely allied with her mother, Brighid frowned.
“I hunt animals and then I kill them. That’s not exactly being allied to them,” Brighid said shortly.
“You do not slaughter animals for the pleasure of it, or as some vainglorious, self-gratifying act of ego. You do what you must to feed your people. Do you not respect each animal you kill, as well as give thanks to Epona for Her bounty after each hunt?”
