Beyond a Darkened Shore(53)

I jumped back as though scalded, and his lips twisted into an ironic grin. “By all means, princess, continue your intense scrutiny,” he said in a voice much gruffer than usual. “I can only hope you have found everything to your liking.”

Warring desires to embrace him and choke the life from him vied within me. I settled for glaring.

“Surely I do not deserve such a look after once again narrowly missing the chance to walk down the halls of Valhalla.”

Mollified, I softened my expression. “I was examining you for injury. Have you healed so quickly, then?”

With a groan, he rolled to his side before pushing himself laboriously to his feet. He swayed for a moment as if he’d lose his balance, and I darted out my hand to steady him. “Not even I can recover so quickly from such a battle.” His gaze swept over me. “Though it appears you have.”

“You speak the truth, but I don’t how it happened. I don’t even know where we are.”

“I’m sure it’s somewhere with an abundance of Celtic monstrosities,” Leif said, taking in his surroundings with a wary expression. “What’s clear is that you transported us somewhere the j?tnar couldn’t follow.”

Now that Leif was on his feet and, if not fully healed, surely on the way to being so, a new anxiety gripped me. “Yes, but how will we return if I don’t even know how we got here?”

“We’ll worry about that later. First, we must find water.”

He strode away as though he knew where he was going, and it was then that I heard it, too—the quiet murmuring of a brook.

We followed the sound to its source, only a short distance from where we had lain. The brook cut a path through the trees, the water so beautifully clear it sparkled like gemstones as the sunlight struck it. Leif cupped his hands and drank without hesitation, gulping greedily. Watching him drink, I became suddenly aware of my own thirst, my throat as dry as sand. Eagerly I knelt down, cupped my hands, and drank. The water was as cold as a mountain stream, and so sweetly delicious, I drank numerous cupfuls before my thirst was finally quenched.

Wiping the excess water with the edge of my cloak, I sank back on my heels.

Leif sat down heavily beside me, and for a moment, we stared at the stream and breathed. “I think it’s time we figured out where we are,” he said.

“What do you remember?” I asked, thinking of the shining doorway.

Leif’s jaw tightened. “All of my men dying. The j?tnar nearly killing us both. And . . .” His eyes shifted from the water to my face. “. . . your hand upon mine.”

His intense gaze captured my attention for a moment, and I bit the inside of my cheek just to prevent my traitorous body from closing the distance between us. I glanced down at his hand beside me, the visible tendons and veins proof of its strength. And yet we had failed.

I imagined the j?tnar continuing their path of destruction all the way to Mide, and my breaths came faster. “A doorway appeared in my mind, and a voice told me to pull myself through.” I met his gaze. “But I couldn’t leave you.”

He touched my cheek with the hand I had only just been admiring, warmth spreading down my body. “I’m grateful you saved me. I’m only sorry you had to. It’s clear we were spared so the quest will continue. We’ll find a way back.”

But what then? With all our strength, we barely survived. I couldn’t say the thoughts aloud, as though giving voice to them would grant them power over me.

A whispering came from the trees above us. Subtle at first, like a soft breeze rustling the leaves. It soon grew to a level where it was apparent words were being exchanged, though the language was beyond either of our understanding. It sounded as organic as water flowing over rock, or the wind howling through branches.

I glanced back at Leif, and he nodded—an unspoken acknowledgment that we were not alone.

The water joined in, murmuring in the same language as the trees, adding to the cacophony. Amid this chaos, a door appeared within the tree nearest us, and a brightly lit beast stepped through.

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.”