Elphame's Choice
From the bestselling author of the "House of Night" series comes the award-winning world of Partholon, rich in goddesses, intrigue and magic.Part-human, part-centaur, Elphame has always been different. OK, make that very different. The hundreds of shimmering butterflies sent by the goddess Etain to mark her birth were only the beginning. When Elphame is asked to breathe new life into the remote MacCallan Castle, she goes along with it (well stranger things have happened. . . ) and finally she's found her true calling.But Elphame hadn't banked on her life being threatened when the bizarre Fomorian descendents (bat-like humans - it's a long story) return to MacCallen with their own devastating agenda. Nor the fact that she may have finally found her lifemate. . . at the most inconvenient time!
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She burst out of the forest and into a small clearing to find herself suddenly shrouded in fog. Breathing hard, Elphame came to a halt. The mist curled around her, thick and grey. She blew on it and suddenly the misty colour changed and it became tinged with a hint of red.
The colour beckoned her.
It swirled in an unending circular pattern that reminded her of one of Epona’s holly-hedged labyrinths that decorated the temple grounds. In her dream the familiar comparison made her smile and she stretched out her arms, spreading her fingers wide. Slowly, she began to turn and as the mist caressed her body she realised that she was naked.
“Elphame…” The disembodied voice floated around her on the mist. It was a man’s voice, but she didn’t recognise it.
“Come to me, Elphame…”
The GODDESS OF PARTHOLON series by New York Times bestselling author
P.C. CASI
DIVINE BY MISTAKE
DIVINE BY CHOICE
DIVINE BY BLOOD
ELPHAME’S CHOICE
BRIGHID’S QUEST
Find out more at www.mirabooks.co.uk
To my amazing daughter, Kristin Frances, the perfect blending of two and the inspiration for Elphame.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
As always, I thank my agent and friend, Meredith Bernstein. In this particular case you deserve The Big Thank You!
I am so appreciative of my editor, Mary-Theresa Hussey. Thank you, M-T, for keeping me on track during the complex task of world building.
Thank you to my father, Dick Cast, for his invaluable information about wolves (it’s turned out to be a good thing that you’re a member of a pack!) and about flora and fauna in general.
I appreciate my sister-in-law, Carol Cast, RN, BSN, for detailed info pertaining to horrid wounds and dead bodies. Any bodily fluid errors are mine and mine alone.
And I would like to express a soul-felt thank-you to my fabulous fans who fell in love with Partholon years ago and kept/keep asking for more and more and more…I truly appreciate you all so very much!
PROLOGUE
That day had started with deceptive normalcy.
The dawn offering to Epona had been particularly moving. The Goddess had filled Etain so completely that afterward she carried the glow of Her presence throughout the morning, and for once she was allowed some time alone—temporarily freed from the duties of Goddess Incarnate.
The contractions began as a vague sense of unease. She couldn’t find a comfortable place on her well-cushioned chaise longue. She snapped with uncharacteristic impatience at the enthusiastic servant who checked to make sure her mistress didn’t need a refill of hot water. Not even the thought of a long soak in the mineral springs bathing pool seemed appealing.
Etain hoped a stroll through her magnificent flower garden would ease what she thought was just a little difficulty digesting the strawberries from lunch. The walk appeared to be helping—until she paused to sniff a brilliant crimson blossom and her water broke violently all over the Goddess Incarnate’s silk-lined slippers.
Normalcy had also been broken.
“Isn’t that always the way of it?” She grimaced and clenched her teeth as another wave of pain blanketed her body. Bending at the waist she leaned heavily against the woman whose arm was linked through her own.
“Sssh, Etain.” Fiona spoke soothingly in her light, melodic brogue. “Donna speak, my friend. Just concentrate on your breathing.”
Etain jerked her head in a sharp imitation of nodding agreement and tried to match her panting gasps to Fiona’s calm, deep breaths. The contraction peaked and receded.
A flurry of activity ensued. The Goddess Incarnate’s clothes were changed by her bevy of attendants, who then began notifying the Wise Women who lived in the villages closest to Epona’s Temple. Wrapping her arm around Fiona’s waist, and using her sturdy presence from which to draw strength, Etain continued her stroll through the temple gardens. The Chosen One’s friend and advisor had assured her that walking would aid in the child’s birth.
As the day crawled methodically past, the image of Etain’s oasis of tranquility dissipated, but the residue of Epona’s morning possession calmed her—as always, Epona’s Chosen drew upon the familiar thread that bound her to the Goddess and found strength and comfort.
Fiona smiled encouragement and the two women turned around, heading back toward the floor-to-ceiling windows that led from Etain’s bedchamber to her private garden. Gauzy curtains the color of liquid gold fluttered from within the open leaded-glass panes that served as door and windows. The Goddess Incarnate breathed deeply, trying to steady the racing of her heart and ready herself for the inevitable next contraction.
“I think that really is the worst part.” As always, she spoke her mind aloud to Fiona.
ELPHAME’S CHOICE
“What?” She looked thoughtfully at her friend and mistress.
“The inevitability of what’s happening. I can’t stop it. I can’t pause it. I can’t really affect it at all. The truth is that I’d like to say, ‘This has been interesting, but I’m ready for it to cease now. I want to bathe, eat a lovely meal and get a good night’s rest. We’ll just begin from here tomorrow, shall we?’” Fiona’s expression of polite curiosity changed to bubbling laughter.
