Page 85 of Queen of the Shadow

“Exactly. Shall we enter?” Scáthach asked.

“I follow the mighty Queen of Shadow.” Cuchulainn bowed to her.

“Very wise of you, Hero of Ulster,” she said, and stepped into the mouth of the serpent with Cuchulainn following close behind.

Part IIISummer 200 BCE to Spring 199 BCE

Chapter 20

The Underworld was a surprise to Sentanta. He hadn’t expected different realms. He hadn’t expected beauty. He found both.

The stallion had been another surprise. Chance held no animosity toward Scáthach, even though she had sentenced and sacrificed him.

Cynwrig and Enniaum were more of a shock than a surprise, for him and for Scáthach. He observed with keen interest how Scáthach comforted and reassured them, then opened the veil for them.

It was the welcome of the ancestors that did him in. He couldn’t hold back his tears of joy for the two men, nor did he want to hold them back. Sentanta was tired of masks and falsehoods—tired of the games his father wanted him to play.

He ached for what he shared with Scáthach during their quest—her peace, her joy, her compassion, and perhaps even her love.

* * *

From the first time she’d walked the path to Annwn with her mother, Scáthach had been intrigued by everything from the guardian bears to the magnificent stone snake. As she traveled that familiar path with Cuchulainn at her side, she drank in the elaborate carvings that covered the rounded walls and ceiling. She’d forgotten so much, most especially how much she loved the island and Annwn. It was an overdue homecoming.

“They’re so beautiful—more like tattoos than carvings. They remind me of Dunscáith.” Cuchulainn’s voice was low, soft, reverent, as he gazed in awe at the decorated walls.

Scáthach’s fingertips glided over the carvings as she walked beside Cuchulainn through the tunnel. “They remind you of Dunscáith because my mother created them, much like she created my castle.”

“Beautiful.” His gaze was on her, not the carvings. Then he glanced over his shoulder. “The bears don’t come with us?”

“No, they’re living guardians. They don’t leave the surface of the island,” she said, and then smiled at his disappointed frown. “You know they’re all connected, don’t you?”

“They? The bears?” he asked, his expression brightening.

She nodded. “The bears.”

“The bears back in the mortal world know about these bears?”

“Yes. They know about them and communicate with them,” she explained. “They will recognize you when you return.”

“Don’t you meanifI return?” he asked wryly.

“I’m practicing positivity,” she said. “Whenyou return, you may find that brown bears recognize you and come to you for chin scratches.”

His smile was radiant. “Then Iwillreturn to the mortal realm, if just to give bears chin scratches.”

“They’ll like that,” she said, and then nodded at the growing circle of light that was the end of the tunnel. “We’re almost there. Are you ready?”

He drew a deep breath, and she was glad to see his face sober as his gaze focused on the light. “I am. I’ll remember what you’ve told me.” His gaze went to her. “I’m glad you’re with me, though.”

“As am I. I’ve missed visiting.”

They closed the distance in silence and paused at the end of the tunnel to allow their vision to acclimate to the brightness. The snake’s stone gave way to a moss path lined with large white boulders that glittered. They, too, were covered with carvings that portrayed animals and people framed by intricate knot work.

“It looks like Skye marble, only bigger and shinier,” said Cuchulainn.

“It is Skye marble. Or rather, the marble of Skye was fashioned after the marble here.” She glanced at him and smiled. “It was Mother’s doing.”

They walked onto the moss path, heading toward a wide crystal stream and two hawthorns that formed an arch beyond it. The sky was the color of the inside of an oyster shell. Puffy clouds drifted lazily in a soft breeze that was precisely the right temperature for a perfect summer’s day.