Page 118 of Queen of the Shadow

“Curruid?” Scáthach spoke his name softly.

The creature’s eyes opened. They were no longer red, but luminous. They glittered like faceted jewels. Across her body, Scáthach felt the unmistakable tingle that told her the veil to the Summerlands was near. Her heartbeat quickened. She took a step toward the spirit of the sea monster. Like a snuffed candle, the fire was extinguished. Scáthach moved closer, her gaze completely focused on the glistening spirit that still hovered above the beach.

She felt Cuchulainn beside her. He took her hand in his. “You know what to do.”

“But it’s impossible,” Scáthach said without looking away from the spirit.

“I’ve come to believe that where you’re concerned, nothing is impossible.” Cuchulainn squeezed her hand, released it, and stepped back.

Scáthach’s honeyed voice rang throughout the frigid realm as she asked, “Are you sorry for anything?”

Curruid blinked several times and then bowed his massive head. Within Scáthach’s mind his voice said,“Yes. I was the last of my kind. I allowed loneliness to become rage, and rage to control me. I thought if I caused pain to others I would feel less of my own. It was a wrong way of thinking. I was wrong. For the terrible things I did, I am truly sorry.”

Joy shivered through Scáthach’s body with such intensity that she had to close her eyes against it. She’d found it—one spirit in the Winterlands who had earned redemption.

“Then rest in peace, mighty Curruid. And may you never suffer loneliness again.” The air before the spirit shimmered. Scáthach pinched the veil between her forefinger and thumb and pulled it aside to reveal a very different body of water—one that was summer-sky blue. From beneath its sparkling depths a shape took form. A sea creature, the twin of Curruid, breached with a happy cry. “Go on,” Scáthach told Curruid. “When the Summerlands beckon, we do not keep her waiting.”

Curruid’s spirit circled Scáthach thrice before it rushed through the opened veil. As it dove into the cerulean sea, it reanimated, greeting its mate with a joyful roar. And then the veil disappeared.

Scáthach blinked tears from her vision in time to see an ivory spear protruding from the center of the blackened outline of Curruid’s body.

Chapter 27

Scáthach, I wish—”

She pressed her fingers against his lips. “I know. You don’t have to say it. And I understand. Just kiss me again.”

Sentanta closed his eyes and pulled her to him. He kissed her like he was dying of thirst and she was rainfall in his desert. And as he did so, he thought how very much he wished he could defy not just Lugh, the Ulstermen, and their king. He wished he could defy the part of himself that would never be satisfied living a long life of ignominy...

* * *

Cuchulainn stepped up beside Scáthach and used his thumb to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “Curruid was redeemable.”

Scáthach nodded, not trusting her voice.

“You’ve been right all along. There are spirits here who deserve redemption,” he said.

She smiled and blinked away the last of her happy tears. “I’m going to have to have a serious conversation with my mother.”

Cuchulainn frowned. “I’m sorry for that.”

“Don’t be! Béfionn is wise and reasonable. She’ll know what to do.”

He brushed a sweaty strand of hair back from her face. “And she won’t be angry with you for bringing a problem to her?”

“No, she is not Lugh,” Scáthach said firmly.

“She isdefinitelynot Lugh.” Cuchulainn sighed. “I suppose we must finish this.”

“I suppose,” she said softly.

Together they turned to face the spear. It was a thing of dangerous beauty. The bone-white color was in stark contrast to the black sand and the scorched outline of Curruid’s body. Even in the gloom it glittered, and Scáthach realized much of the shaft was encrusted with silver that formed delicate waves. The blunted end was in the sand, with the spear point up and visible. It, too, was covered with intricate knot work.

“It’s too beautiful to be a weapon,” Cuchulainn said.

Scáthach scoffed. “I’m beautiful and I’m a weapon; don’t let beauty fool you.”

Cuchulainn chuckled. “You have a point.” He glanced at her. “I think you should retrieve it.”