Divine Beginnings

Chapter Three

“Aine, won’t you return with us?” Edan asked, hanging back when the other warriors headed back to the castle almost immediately.

“N-no,” she stuttered, running a shaky hand over her forehead. Had she really heard Epona’s voice? “I’m going to stay with Maev for a little while.”

“It’s not safe in the forest after dark, so you don’t have much time. I’ll leave the horse and cart for you,” he said.

Aine nodded absently, paying little attention when he left. All of her concentration was focused internally. “Epona?” she whispered, feeling foolish.

Listen, daughter. One who needs you is near.

Aine’s body trembled with excitement. The Goddess was speaking to her! Holding her breath, she listened.

A low, painful moan seemed to drift on the cool night air, mixing with the scent of death and smoke and pine. Aine turned into the breeze and followed her Goddess’s urging.

The panting sounds of pain weren’t hard to track. Aine was amazed that she and the warriors hadn’t heard them earlier. She’d walked only a few feet into the surrounding pines when she came to the gully. What she saw at the bottom of the trench in the earth had her freezing with shock and disbelief.

The winged creature lay crumpled on the ground, its leg caught gruesomely in an iron trap so large it must have been set for the vicious brown bears that liked to lurk close to the castle.

It is your choice, daughter, whether you aid him or not.

“But he’s a Fomorian!” Aine said.

Epona didn’t respond, and Aine could feel that the Goddess’s presence had left her. At the sound of her voice the creature’s head snapped up. With eyes glassy with shock and pain he stared at her.

“Are you a goddess or a spirit?”

His voice was a surprise. It was deep and beautiful, almost musical in quality. And he sounded frightened.

“I’m neither,” she replied. Then she pressed her lips together, thinking that it was madness that she was speaking to him, to it, instead of running screaming for the warriors.

“You look like a goddess,” he said.

Then he smiled and even as Aine cringed back from his fangs that glistened in the dying light, she felt drawn to the unexpected gentleness in his eyes that so perfectly matched his expressive voice.

“You’re a Fomorian,” Aine said, as if to remind herself.

“And you’re a goddess.”

“Fomorians are demons!” she blurted. “What could you know about goddesses?”

“Some of us know of Epona. Some of us…” he trailed off, sucking in his breath as a spasm of pain shot through him.

Responding automatically to his pain, Aine was halfway down the gully before she realized she’d moved. The Fomorian had closed his eyes to ride out the wave of agony. His forehead was pressed to the ground and he was breathing in shallow, panting gasps. Just like any man in terrible pain, she thought.

Then his wings, which had been tucked along his back rustled in restless agitation and she stumbled to a halt mere feet from him, eyes riveted on those dark pinions. They weren’t made of feathers, but seemed to be a soft membrane, lighter on bottom than top. They were huge, and they proved what he was-what he must be. A demon.

This was what killed Maev! The knowledge rushed through her mind and she stumbled back.

“My name is Tegan.”

At the sound of his voice she stopped. His eyes were open again, and even though his face was shadowed by pain he tried to smile at her once more.

“What is your name, goddess?”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped.

“I meant no disrespect. I only-”

“You killed Maev!” she interrupted.