Page 115 of Queen of the Shadow

He nodded and hurried along with her. When the woman was out of sight behind them and they could no longer hear her shrieks, he asked, “What could she have possibly done to deserve that?”

“I asked Mother the same question. She explained that the woman had spent several lifetimes embracing her most base nature. She’d been held in the Autumnal Realm after her past three lifetimes as generations passed in the mortal realm. After each lifetime she eventually showed remorse, so three times Béfionn allowed her to be reborn. During her last life she became angry with her father for showing favor to her brothers. She was the eldest and expected to inherit his property, but her father had realized that she was unfit to inherit anything, which is why he favored her brothers. They were just little boys. She poisoned them, cut them up, and made a stew with them that she fed to her grieving father—and then she gleefully told him what she’d done.”

“He killed her for it?”

“No. He died from the poison in the stew, weeping and in despair over the loss of his children. She inherited his land and married a decent man whom she also poisoned.Thenshe was arrested and hung.” Scáthach shook her head. “My mother blamed herself for the death of the boys and the father and the second husband. She said she should have known the woman was unredeemable.”

Cuchulainn shuddered. “I think your mother was correct.” He glanced at her and asked, “Do you not agree?”

“Oh, I do. But I also agree with my mother. She was responsible for the deaths of the children and the men.” Scáthach sighed. “I don’t say that with disrespect for Mother. I say it with understanding and a wish that the Goddess of the Underworld was infallible.”

“Or that she spent more time here,” Cuchulainn said softly.

Scáthach could only nod her agreement. Speaking the words,Yes, I wish she spent more time here, too,felt traitorous to Béfionn.

And then Scáthach bumped against the shadows that cloaked them and she halted, Cuchulainn at her side.

“They stopped moving?” he asked.

The extra sense her shadows shared with her pulled her gaze down to the black-sand shore. “Yes, because we’ve arrived at Curruid’s beach.”

They looked down at a shoreline littered with skeletons bleached white by time and salt.

“Those bodies didn’t reanimate? Are they being absorbed?” Cuchulainn shook his head. “I don’t understand what I’m seeing.”

“What you’re seeing are the remains of the living mortals who somehow tricked their way here to try to claim the Gáe Bulg as their own,” she said.

“Doesn’t appear any of them were successful,” he observed.

The shadows nudged them, veering off the high path to lead them down a steep offshoot trail that snaked in a descent to the beach. They had to go single file. Cuchulainn led, his hand on the pommel of his sword. Scáthach followed. She kept looking from the trail to the beach. She knew Curruid must lurk near.

When they reached the beach, Scáthach stopped. “It’s time I released the shadows,” she told Cuchulainn.

“Are you sure? Should you not keep within their cover while I deal with the monster?” he asked.

She lifted one tawny brow. “Because I’m so frail and delicate and cannot possibly protect myself?”

Cuchulainn snorted. “Hardly. You’ve bested me how many times now? I just meant—”

“I know what you meant and no. I will not stand back while you battle a monster.” She sent him a narrow-eyed glare before she lifted her arms. Gently, she caressed the shadows that cloaked them. They were like mist and fog, smoke and cloud. They played around her hands, reminding her of when she was a little girl and she’d first begun calling them. They’d been her friends then; they were still her friends, her companions, her protectors. “Thank you for your guidance, your warmth, and your protection, my loyal shadows,” Scáthach said. “I release you with gratitude and love.”

Like morning dew dispersing beneath the warmth of sunlight, the shadows faded. The last to go were those wrapped around her hands. They, too, drifted away, but at the edge of her vision she could still glimpse them tucked against the steep bank where it met black sand, waiting should she have need of them again.

Scáthach shivered as the true temperature of the Winterlands hit her. Thankfully the snow had stopped. For the moment no ice fell. It was as if the realm held itself still in a frigid pause.

“Do we have a plan to get Curruid to come to us?” Cuchulainn asked after the shadows had gone.

“I have a feeling we won’t need a plan. Look at the water.”

The Winter Sea had begun to bubble. It reminded Scáthach of the trails whales sometimes left in their wake, though the beast that emerged from the sea was definitely not a whale. Its long snout appeared first. The lizard-like creature shot up and roared, revealing double rows of upper and lower fangs as it sprayed rancid water from its mouth. It was so large Scáthach and Cuchulainn could have walked into that stinking maw without ducking their heads.

Its body was sinuous and almost serpentine, though its size was impossibly large for a snake. Scáthach could only see part of its huge body. Along the ridge of its spine were the same type of boney scutes her nursemaids had, except each of Curruid’s were as long as a sturgeon. Its skin was covered with thick, dark scales. She could just see its front fins and was shocked to note that they weren’t rounded but ended in webbed toes.

“Lugh’s balls! He’s huge!” Cuchulainn dropped his pack, unsheathed his sword, and took his shield from where it was strapped across his back.

Beside him, Scáthach hastily did the same. They also stripped off their cloaks, which would be in their way during the battle. “He has to be huge if one of his ribs will make a decent spear. At least we can be grateful that he’s bound by water. Let’s check out spots along the beach. See where it’s shallow enough that we can lure him there.”

Cuchulainn nodded shortly. “Then flank him and try to get him to expose his underbelly.”