Divine Beginnings

Chapter Four

“I have killed no one,” he insisted. Making an involuntary beseeching gesture, his arm lifted and Aine saw the short sword sheathed at his waist.

“I don’t believe you. How could I? You’re a Fomorian. A demon. My enemy.” Aine’s stomach knotted as she looked frantically around. “Where are the rest of your people?”

“It’s only me. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have sneaked through, but I wanted to see it.”

“It?”

“Partholon,” Tegan spoke the word like a prayer.

“But there are more of you?”

“Of course. In the Wastelands.”

Aine started backing away again. “I have to warn the Guardian Warriors. Your people have to be stopped.”

“But it’s only me who is here,” he said.

“No…you killed Maev.” Then the Huntress’s words lifted from her memory. The warriors know! They all know. What was happening? How could the Guardian Warriors know about the Fomorians? Then all of Partholon should know. Maev was dying. She’d been almost incoherent. Or things had been happening so quickly maybe Aine had misunderstood. Shaking her head she spoke more to herself than the fallen demon, “It doesn’t matter. I have to tell them.”

“Please don’t leave me.” Even though she was well beyond his touch, he reached out for her and then moaned, crumpling to the ground again.

It is your choice, daughter, whether you aid him or not. As if battling against Maev’s warning, Epona’s voice filled her mind. The Goddess had led her to this creature. Surely she had brought her to him so that Aine would return to the castle and tell the men. But then why had Epona said that there was one near who needed her? When she’d followed the moans Aine had had no doubt that she was supposed to help whoever had been injured.

All right. Couldn’t she do both? She could dress his wounds and then go to the castle and warn them that Fomorians were near. Aine glanced down at Tegan’s trapped leg. He might be injured so badly that he’d still be here when she brought the warriors back. Was there rope in the cart? Perhaps she could tie him up.

She drew a deep breath and looked from his wound to his eyes. “How do I know you won’t try to kill me if I help you?”

“I’m not a killer,” was his instant response.

“You’re a demon,” she said.

He frowned. “Is it because I have wings that you keep calling me that?”

“It’s because your people betrayed the good faith of my people and tried to slaughter them that I call you that.”

“How long ago?” he asked quietly.

“What?”

“How long ago was the war between our people?”

Aine moved her shoulders restlessly. “It’s talked about in our legends. The bards sing songs about how demonic and hideous your people are.” She closed her mouth, then all too aware that even though the winged man trapped so painfully on the ground in front of her might be a demon, he definitely wasn’t hideous.

“Three hundred and twenty-five full passes of all four seasons have gone by since my people fought yours,” he said. Tegan paused to grimace in pain. After several short, panting breaths he continued. “So it is for something that happened between people long dead that you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Aine said automatically.

“Then help me. Please, goddess,” he said.