Ailish squatted in front of me. “You used too much power.”
My stomach heaved in reply, though nothing more came up. Lowering myself to the ground, I curled into a ball, drawing my knees tight to my chest. Leaves rustled beneath me. An earthy scent of loam and decay filled my nose.
“Are there plants you can eat?” Ailish asked. “Calhoun caught me while I was gathering nightshade this morning, but I suppose those berries be just for Cailleach’s blood.”
I attempted to shake my head, the small movement bouncing painfully between my ears.
“Where do you get Brigid’s power so?”
“The altar,” I groaned. “I... I have to cross over.”
“Where is it?”
“The rock...in the saddlebags...and the herbs.” For the first time in my life, I would enter Brigid’s garden without being properly dressed in my sheath...assuming I even had the power to cross over. What if I didn’t? What if I got stuck like Julian? There would be no one to save me if that happened.
Ailish stood. “I’ll hurry back.” Green and brown wool swirled together as she left at a run.
A small twig poked my temple. I let it be, lacking the fortitude to do anything other than breathe and stare straight ahead. The large stone loomed near, filled the space directly in front of me.
From my vantage, it appeared more plinth than human, though the height and girth matched Calhoun’s. The uneven angles must have been his arms and legs. And the odd shape near the top could be construed as a head. I squinted my eyes at it.
Is that really him?
The notion was phenomenal. Calhoun...turned to a stone. The man deserved worse after the suffering he’d caused. But did he even know what had happened?
Cold sweat coated my skin, and I started to shiver as bile inched up my throat. Last time I’d borrowed power from my soul, Cate had healed me before I died. If Ailish didn’t hurry, I wouldn’t be so lucky this time.
Darkness edged my vision. A great weariness came over me, and I closed my eyes, wanting only a brief respite. For just a moment...then I’ll think about what we did...what we still have to do.
Something soft nudged my forehead. Something familiar... My eyelids fluttered open, and I stared into the yellow eyes of the tabby cat. Purring, the cat nudged me again. I didn’t move as I drifted near to sleep.
Sharp claws swiped across my ear.
“Ooouch,” I slurred, while attempting to bat the creature’s paw away. “Leave me be.”
It growled and bit my hand, breaking the skin of the palm right below my pinkie finger. Blood welled around the puncture wounds.
I yanked my hand away. “Stop it!” The words sounded surprisingly louder.
“Who you talking to?” Ailish asked from behind me.
“That mangy cat.” It sat back and looked at me. Pushing to my arms, I glared at it, ready to strike if it got any closer.
The saddlebags landed on the ground. Ailish crouched down, and the cat moved at once to her side, rubbing its full body against her. She patted its head before turning her attention to the bags. The cat lifted its tail, the tip falling to a gentle curve.
Anger pushed at the weariness, and I struggled to my knees. “Don’t you dare play innocent.”
“I’m not playing at anything,” Ailish said.
“Not you. The cat. It scratched my ear and bit me while you were gone.” I swayed from another onslaught of nausea. The cat inched closer, rubbed its head on my arm.
“Likes you well enough now.”
I watched it, in no wise fooled by the sudden change of behavior. Fickle beast. “It led me to you this morning.”
A fleeting smile crossed Ailish’s mouth. “Cats be special to Cailleach. This one’s been watching out for us since we arrived last night.”
So that’s who she meant.
Ailish pulled a wadded shift from one of the bags, shuddering terribly as she shook the folds open. The altar landed with a soft thud, and I fumbled clumsy fingers to set it charred side up.
The herbs came next. “What do I do with these?” she asked.
“Put some on the stone and light them.”
She did as I bid, striking a flint over the dried leaves. I was shaking anew when she bent forward and gently blew on the sparks until small flames appeared.
Remembering my boots, I sat back and started to pull pathetically at one heel, my hands slipping from the meager action.
“What are you doing?”
“My shoes...they have to come off.”
Ailish shook her head in disgust. “Herbs, altars, bare feet. Brigid demands a lot from her blood.” She tugged at the first boot, careful not to touch me. “All I got to do is eat some nightshade berries, shoes or not.” She tossed the second boot aside. “What now?”
Forgoing the usual kneel, I just shifted my weight to lean over the altar. “Nothing...” The pungent smoke made my nose tingle.