Page 35 of Queen of the Shadow

“Drink water. A lot of it,” said Tabiti. “That’s what your mother always did after a vision.”

Scáthach raised a brow. “You knew that?”

Tabiti scoffed. “I’ve been leader of the Shadow Guard and your friend for over a decade. How could Inotknow that?”

“Well, I’m her daughter andIdidn’t know that,” blurted Uathach.

“Daughters often see only their mothers and not the woman—or the seer—within them.” Scáthach smiled so that her words were not an admonishment. “Even I have sometimes failed to see the divinity within Béfionn and recognized her only as my mother. Remember, Uathach, women are never just one thing. We carry the magick of creation within us, and that allows us to be composed of a myriad of wonders.” Her hand slid from her daughter’s shoulder to her hand, which she squeezed before releasing. “Would you like to tell me about your vision?”

“Yes. No.”

Scáthach said nothing.

Uathach sighed. “I saw your head.”

“My head?” Scáthach asked, not sure she’d heard correctly.

“Detached from your body,” continued Uathach.

“Describe what you saw with the head,” Tabiti said quickly. “Could you tell where it was? When it was? Summer, like it is now? Winter? What else did you see?”

“Tabiti, leave off. Let Uathach describe what she saw and stop panicking. The Sight only shows one possibility of many,” Scáthach said.

“Yes, the most likely possibility,” said Tabiti. “And don’t deny that. You’ve told me so many times.”

“Most likely does not mean fated,” Scáthach reminded her friend before she turned back to Uathach. “What else?”

“Blood. A lot of it.”

Scáthach ignored the tightening in her gut and nodded. “Yes, well, beheading someone is a bloody business.”

Uathach squinted like she was trying to get a better look at the vision. “The blood was from a spear wound.”

“Ah, see.” Scáthach glanced at Tabiti. “There’s a second possibility already. It’s unlikely a spear decapitated me.”

“It didn’t. It struck your leg.” Uathach shook her head and corrected herself. “I’m not completely sure the leg was yours. The two are connected—your severed head and the leg wound. Perhaps it was an either-or situation rather than both happening. I do know the spear struck a thigh. Nasty wound. Smelled of shit.”

“That’s bad,” said Tabiti.

Scáthach snorted a laugh. “Not as bad as losing my head.”

“Stop it!” Uathach snapped at her mother and rubbed her temple again. “There was nothing funny about the vision.” She dropped her hand from her head. “You died. I saw your severed head. The vision was drowned in blood and next I saw the reeking spear and the thigh wound. Then the sun cleared away the rain and the blood, and I watched a huge bear swim from Skye to the mainland across the narrow waters where the Inner Sound and Loch Alsh meet. When the bear reached land, it brought a tide of blood with it and a flash of sunlight so bright that it shocked me out of the vision.” Uathach shivered and blinked. “And that was it. The vision was gone, leaving only my aching head and a lot of questions. Can you help me answer any of them? Like the most important—will it come true?”

Scáthach shrugged. “The Sight always holds truth, though it’s rarely clear. I will take your vision as the warning it was meant to be. I will be careful with my head.” She did not smile or jest. She held her daughter’s gaze, willing comfort to Uathach. “If I, or any of our people, are wounded in the thigh, I now know that wound is likely to fester if not treated carefully.”

When she said no more, Uathach asked, “And what of the bear and the blazing light?”

“The bear is a symbol of Béfionn’s strength,” Scáthach said. “I share that strength with her. So, it could mean that the might of Skye will be needed on the mainland.”

“Aife,” Tabiti grumbled. “Was a dark dragon in the vision?”

“No.”

“Not surprising,” Scáthach said. “I have no plans to leave Skye, especially not to chase after my sister. It’s been two months since her army ambushed us. She has not set foot on Skye. As long as she continues to leave us in peace I will not track and attack her. In truth, I do not know my sister, but she is my father’s daughter, too, and I have no stomach for battling her.”

Tabiti snorted but said nothing.

“Uathach, when the students’ test is finished, go to the healer and ask for the soothing tea she used to give me when my head ached. And try not to allow the Sight to rule you. Remember that it is a gift and not a curse.” Scáthach’s gaze left her daughter to sweep out to sea. She didn’t want Uathach to see the pain in her eyes. When she held the gift of Sight, it hadn’t been a burden. At times it had been confusing, frustrating, and even frightening, but she’d learned to understand that what she glimpsed were simply warnings of what could come. Scáthach hoped she hadn’t saved her daughter’s life by cursing her with a Sight she would never carry comfortably.