Page 43 of Queen of the Shadow

“Fish? Those creatures aren’tfish! They’re sea monsters.”

Scáthach’s laughter rang across the water and a sturgeon leaped, breaching with joy at the sound.

“See!” He pointed at the sturgeon. “Sea monster.”

“Those sea monsters were my nursemaids.” She grinned at his incredulous look and continued. “They taught me how to swim. They also taught Uathach how to swim.”

“Truthfully?”

“Truthfully. They’re attached to Béfionn, which means they are attached to me. Whenever I’m near the water, they come.”

His gaze studied the water. “Even without your mother’s presence?”

“Yes, of course.” She stopped herself from asking about Lugh and the animals associated with him. She didn’t want to see the happiness in Cuchulainn’s eyes dimmed by the mention of the God of the Sun. Instead she held her hand out for the skin, which he gave her as he began to dress. “Enough swimming now?” she asked after taking a drink.

“I’d rather not swim with sea monsters,” he said.

“Well, then, we should leave. The monsters know I’m here now, and they did look rather hungry.” She spoke nonchalantly. “They wouldn’t eatme,but...” She let her gaze travel up the long length of his partially clothed body.

When his head emerged from the tunic, Cuchulainn’s eyes widened. “They would eat me?”

Side by side they walked through the sand, heading to the grazing horses and the cart. When she said nothing, Cuchulainn bumped her shoulder with his and repeated, “They would eat me?”

“Only if they weretrulyhungry.” She grinned at him before she whistled for Leannan, who bounded after them. Still smiling, she reached down to ruffle the big dog’s ears and something glittering in the sand caught her attention. Scáthach picked it up and brushed the sand from it. “A seer stone! When I was a child, Mother and I used to collect these.”

“What is a seer stone?” Cuchulainn asked as he peered at the round piece of Skye marble. It was flat, no bigger than the end of Leannan’s nose, and had a perfectly round hole in the center of it.

“The Skye legend says if you peer through the center of a marble stone like this, you’ll be gifted a vision.” She held it up so they could look through it together.

“I don’t see anything except what’s on the other side of the stone,” said Cuchulainn.

“That’s because it’s just a legend with no truth to it. Mother used to tell me it was good luck to keep one with me, though. When I was a little girl, I almost always had one tucked somewhere on my body.” She grinned, turned to Cuchulainn, and with a flourish, presented it to him. “For you, Hero of Ulster. May it bring you luck.”

Cuchulainn took it and bowed deeply, saying, “I am honored by the gift, Queen of Shadow,” before he tucked it into his breeches.

As they climbed the hill to the cart, Scáthach noticed the billowing clouds that were beginning to darken the sky over the island. “Rain,” she said, climbing into the cart.

“I’m glad it waited until now,” said Cuchulainn, flicking the reins against the horses’ backs and guiding them to the road. “Swimming in the sun is better than swimming in the rain.” He glanced sideways at her and added wryly, “Even with monsters.”

“So, it was worth it? Using your boon for today?” Scáthach asked.

His gaze met and held hers. His amber eyes darkened, crinkling at the corners with his grin. “Yes.”

Scáthach found it difficult to look away from him—until she felt her cheeks heat. She ignored his soft laughter, though there was a smile in her voice when she said, “Take the horses to a trot. We have thirsty warriors waiting for our mead.”

“I do as the Queen of Shadow commands.” Cuchulainn snapped the reins. “Hup, boys!” he told the geldings. “We’re going home.”

They hadn’t gone very far when Cuchulainn had to urge the horses off the road to maneuver around a tributary stream that was too deep to chance fording with a loaded cart. They wound carefully around several copses of pines with heavy brambles twining around their trunks like they wore skirts decorated with needles. As Cuchulainn pointed the cart back toward the road, Leannan growled.

Scáthach put her hand on Cuchulainn’s arm, instantly alerting him. He met her gaze and nodded slightly, slowing the horses to a plodding walk.

Scáthach whistled for Leannan and patted the seat beside her. The deerhound leaped gracefully up onto the cart’s bench. “Where are they?” she asked the big dog. Ears pricked, Leannan stared ahead and to their left at a large group of yew trees they would have to pass to return to the road and growled low in her throat.

“Turn away from the yews,” Scáthach spoke softly. “Stay close to the pines, especially the ones filled with brambles.”

Cuchulainn nodded.

Scáthach stroked Leannan and picked up one of her paws, pretending to check it for thistles as she surreptitiously studied the yews. Their thick, twisted trunks cast the copse into deep shadows as daylight dimmed, the sinking sun being shrouded by rain clouds.