It was a graceful, long-legged dog, its fur tawny as a lion’s. It watched us with intelligent gold eyes. In those eyes, I could almost make out another form, a willowy figure of a woman. Another goddess?
“I see you have found the healing waters,” a softly melodic voice said, whispering through the trees and into our minds. It seemed these were not the dog’s words, but rather another being speaking through the dog. The dog’s intelligence was clear, but I believed the true owner of the voice used the dog to allow her to see without being physically present.
The dog’s expression was open and friendly, but even so, I remembered my last encounter with an animal imbued with immortal powers. I’d have to choose my words carefully. “We beg forgiveness if we’ve trespassed. We were in a battle for our lives, and whatever I did to bring us here was an act of desperation.”
“You can’t trespass if you are invited. And I know all about your battle; your wounds were tended to.”
“Then I hope you’ll pass along our thanks to whoever was kind enough to tend us,” I said. “May I ask, then, where are we?”
“You are in the realm of the Tuatha Dé Danann,” the voice said. “I am Brigid.”
A little jolt of recognition ran through me. “You are the goddess of healing,” I said, mostly for Leif’s benefit. “It must be you to whom we owe our thanks.”
The dog made a soft sound of acknowledgment.
“What I don’t understand, though,” I said, “is how we got here.” I thought back to the terrible moment when Leif and I had nearly died, when the door of white light had opened in my mind. What was different about this time?
“Someone opened the door on this side—the door that connects our realm to yours,” the voice said, as though any of that made sense.
Leif and I shared a confused look. “And how long have we been here?” Leif asked.
“This realm is one without time,” the voice said, “but in your land, several weeks have passed.”
I felt the color drain from my face; my head pounded a warning. Not again. Nightmare images of my sisters and clansmen at the mercy of those monstrosities flashed before my mind. Plenty of time to continue to Mide. Plenty of time, even, to sail north to Leif’s homeland for reinforcements. As far as they knew, the only two warriors with the power to stop them had disappeared.
“Weeks?” Leif demanded, his expression as grim as mine. “We must go back.”
The dog’s head tilted to the side. “If you were to return now, how long do you think you could survive against the Norse abominations?”
Leif’s jaw tightened. “We lost this battle, but we learned from it. We won’t fail again.”
“You have both been given great gifts; Ciara, you were born with otherworldly power.” The golden eyes of the dog met mine before shifting to Leif. “And you, Leif, made a pact to achieve it.”
I stepped closer. “Who am I? How was I born with such power?” Something like awareness teased the back of my mind, as if I stood on the threshold of answering a great mystery.
“You will know—in time. The knowledge now would only hinder you, and it is not my truth to tell. Though by now you must realize you are not mortal.” Her words hovered in the air. I’d always known I was something more than human, but it was still as shocking as a blast of ice-cold wind to have it confirmed by an ancient being.
The desperation to know the truth about my power didn’t lessen with her warning, but I knew arguing with her decision not to tell me was most likely futile. I tried a different tack. “Then am I immortal?”
Her eyes met mine, wisdom swirling in their depths. Again, I saw the figure of a woman hidden within. “You mean, can you not be killed? The answer is that you will live much longer than your fellow man, and yet, a well-aimed arrow could still take your life. It is this touch of immortal blood that has brought you here.”
“If I am immortal,” I said slowly, still wrapping my mind around the revelation, “then are we powerful enough to defeat the j?tnar?”
“You say you have learned from your battle, but it is not I who can determine that. You must go and speak with one who is the most experienced in war. She will give you the advice you both need if you are to defeat the giants.”
I was almost positive she spoke of the Morrigan, especially since this was the realm of the Tuatha Dé Danann. “Forgive me,” I said, “but why can’t the people of this realm aid us by fighting the giants? Surely you’re more experienced and powerful, and if you were to lend us your aid—”
But the dog shook its golden head. “Once, we could have done so. Once, we could have walked upon the land and made physical changes to it. Now it is the Christian God who rules éirinn, and we are only shadows of what we once were. We have physical forms only in this realm. Even healing you had to be done in this realm instead of the mortal world—there, we can only act through visions or appear as animals.”
I glanced at Leif and thought of the Valkyrie. “And what of the gods of his land?”
The dog’s gaze landed on Leif. “They have a greater hold there, but even their influence is slipping. They sought out the greatest warrior in their land to help aid in the fight against the giants, and they asked that we send our most powerful warrior. When we realized éirinn itself was in danger, we agreed.”
It was hard to believe I would be considered by anyone to be the most powerful warrior, and especially by ancient immortal beings, but I also knew there was much of my power that was as yet untapped.
“You are eager to return to your realm,” she continued, “but before you go . . .” She indicated with her head a leather bag beside her, unnoticed until now. “Gifts for you.”
Tentatively, I took a step forward and retrieved the bag. From within the deceptively small container, I pulled out the most beautiful armor I had ever seen. Black-and-silver leather leggings and chest piece reinforced with chain mail for me, and black-leather-and-chain-mail armor for Leif. Sturdy leather boots for us both. Leif smiled when I pulled free his silver wolf-pelt mantle; whether it was new or merely repaired, I could not tell.
“These are beautiful gifts,” I said, stroking the supple leather.
“Beautiful and useful,” the voice said. “You will find them to be stronger and more agile than other armor. The chain mail will deflect any blade.”
“Armor even Freyja and Odin would be proud to wear,” Leif said. “You have my thanks.”
“And mine as well,” I said.
The dog nodded before taking a few steps away. She paused and looked back, the invitation to follow clear.
A breeze swirled around me then, the whisper of a kiss atop my head. “There is greatness in you, Ciara of Mide, beyond even what you have accomplished so far. It matters little where your power comes from, only that you have been given it to protect your people as the Tuatha Dé Danann once did.”
An answering hope bloomed in my chest.
The tawny dog wove agilely through the ancient forest, dappled sunlight making the leaves shimmer above us. Gone was the melodic voice, and though the dog seemed to have an intelligence far beyond that of a normal beast, the sensation that a powerful being had taken possession of it had disappeared.
The farther it led us, the darker the woods became, until even the tree trunks were black. A mist snaked through the trees, cool against our legs, and almost as high as the dog was tall. Here, the once-dappled sunlight struggled to penetrate the dark leaves, casting everything in shadow. The dog trotted along at a steady pace, but even it seemed more alert, its ears twitching this way and that. There was a pregnant silence, like the way the air seems to shiver in anticipation for a coming storm.
Leif, who had been following closely at the dog’s heels, fell back until he was beside me. “After encountering hellhounds the last time we were in the woods together, we should stay close.”