LITMIR.BIZ

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had little trouble settling into Laragon.

      ClanFintan’s face became troubled as he continued. “But the women who were to settle Guardian Castle, at first, were noticeably uneasy about living there, which is why I decided to delay the departure of our troops for several weeks. It is only natural, after the atrocities committed at Guardian Castle, for the new inhabitants to feel unusually vulnerable.”

      His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I remembered all too well the atrocities to which he referred. Shortly after my arrival in Partholon, a race of vampire-like humanoids called Fomorians began an attempt to subjugate and destroy the people of this world. Perhaps the most horrible aspect of their invasion was that the male Fomorians were capturing, raping and impregnating human females. The human females, in turn, gave birth to mutated creatures that were more demonic than human. I shuddered as a “birthing” scene I had witnessed, through the power of Epona sending me on a spirit journey, replayed in my head. Suffice it to say that the human mother didn’t survive the birth. Fomorians considered human women as disposable living incubators for their spawn.

      Though the Fomorians had destroyed Laragon Castle and its inhabitants, the attack had been quick, and the end came suddenly. Worse had happened at Guardian Castle. It was there that the Fomorians had infiltrated Partholon months before we were aware of their invasion. It was at Guardian Castle that they made their headquarters, and there that so many women endured the horrors of repeated rape until impregnation. It was also there that the women were housed until Fomorian young clawed from their swollen bodies.

      “I am grateful you stayed until the new women of Guardian Castle felt secure.” And, for the zillionth time I sent up silent thanks to Epona that the Fomorians had been defeated, and ironically enough, for the smallpox epidemic that helped weaken them and led to their annihilation.

      “I knew you would have expected no less.” His eyes were warm pools.

      “You’re my hero,” I sighed romantically.

      “As is only fitting,” he verbally sparred with me, relaxing as I acted more like myself.

      Too bad it was an act. I forced myself to swallow another spoonful of the bitter-tasting rice.

      ClanFintan continued with his report. “Tracking the surviving Fomorians was more difficult than seeing Guardian Castle settled.” His voice became grim. “During our search, we found many human women. As their captors died, or fled, they left clusters of pregnant women in their wake.” He shook his head grimly. “Some had been infected with the pox, and were so weakened they died quickly. To those who survived and were still within the first months of their pregnancies, Carolan administered his potion. The potion worked every time, causing the women to miscarry, but almost half of those women perished during the ordeal.” His jaw clenched. “There was little Carolan could do for the women we did not find until they were well along in their pregnancies. He could only dull their pain and ease their passing.” ClanFintan’s gaze shifted to find the Healer, and he lowered his voice. “It was hard for him to bear, Rhea, this inability to save so many.”

      My gaze followed his, and I noticed new lines around Carolan’s expressive eyes, and the way he constantly touched Alanna, almost with desperation, like she might fade away from him if he didn’t stay physically connected to her.

      “I’ll make sure Alanna has plenty of free time.” I winked suggestively.

      “That will help him.” His warm eyes locked with mine. “I, too, was hoping my wife would make some free time—” he mimicked my wink “—for me.”

      “Well, it just so happens that I know your wife.” I tried for a sexy purr, but a wave of nausea threw my timing off. “And, uh, she assured me—Oh, shit!”

      Leaning over the side of my chaise (fortunately, the opposite side from which ClanFintan faced me), I heaved and like an explosive volcano spewed a mixture of white rice and herbal tea all over the marble floor, and (unfortunately) a young servant who didn’t leap out of the way quickly enough.

      I knew the hall had gone very still, but I was busy sucking air and wiping my mouth. I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes from my puke. Lots and lots of little white kernels all splattered across the floor (and the maiden). They looked…they looked disturbingly like something familiar…like, oh, no! Maggots!

      And I projectile vomited all over Victoria and Carolan as they rushed to my side.

      “Oh! I’m s-so sorry!” I stuttered and shook, trying to blink thick tears from my eyes. For some ridiculous reason I thought I should stand up, and immediately the hall began to gray around the edges; it was almost impossible to breathe. I had no control over my body as my knees gave way.

      “I have you, Rhea!” Victoria’s voice penetrated the fog and I realized she had somehow beat ClanFintan to my side, because she was laying me gently back onto my chaise.

      My eyes fluttered open, but I still couldn’t catch my breath.

      I was dying. Puking myself to death in front of everyone. God, what a tragically unattractive way to die…

      Then ClanFintan was beside me, reaching down to lift me into his arms, and I was doubly terrified by the pallor of his usually bronze face.

      “No, wait, I have to tell Vic…” My voice sounded eerie and somehow detached from my body. I reached blindly out, and the centaur huntress grasped my hand with her own puke-spattered one.

      “Just love him,” I whispered, noting how her eyes widened. “Who cares what people say—who cares about the age thing.” I clung to her hand when she tried to pull away. If I was dying she was damn sure going to listen. The terminally ill have certain inalienable rights. Or, perhaps, death just scares most people shitless, so they listen to the soon-to-be-dearly-departed. Whichever was the case, I was going to get said what needed to be said. Then I could continue puking myself to death in peace. “You need him. Stop running and accept the amazing gift you have been given.”

      She had grown very quiet, and her expression didn’t change. The only external reaction she showed was that her usually proud, erect shoulders suddenly drooped, like she couldn’t keep them lifted a moment longer.

      I squeezed her hand before freeing it and then let my sticky head fall onto ClanFintan’s chest. “I feel so sick.” I murmured.

      “Healer, follow me,” his stone voice ordered as he strode from the silent hall.

      3

      “She has been like this for more than two seven-days.” Alanna sounded like she was tattling, and I threw her an ugly look, which didn’t stop her. “Except, never before has she been sick in public.”

      “I’m feeling better already. I just needed to lie down.” Of course, I hadn’t needed to puke in front of my people (and on my friends), have my husband rush to my side, pick me up and practically run (well, gallop) to my bedchamber with Carolan and Alanna following closely behind. I groaned. “I’ve ruined the celebration.” Before she could say anything, I interrupted. “Alanna, you have to go back to the hall and reassure everyone that I just have some kind of…of…” I looked at Carolan for help, but he didn’t offer any medical terminology. “…Of stomach distemper-thing, and now that Carolan and my husband have returned, I’ll be fine.”

      Alanna opened her mouth to argue, but I played my trump card.

      “I need you to do this for me. The people will be so worried.”

      “Of course.” Her tight smile said she knew my tactics. “But I will return as soon as the people have been reassured.” She kissed me quickly on my damp forehead, then patted ClanFintan’s arm in a motherly gesture before kissing Carolan on the lips and whispering, “Please, my darling, find out what is amiss with her.”

      “I heard that!” I yelled weakly at her departing back. She ignored me.

      My attention shifted back to the two males who were watching me like I was an egg ready to hatch.

      “Why

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