"If you keep looking so damned gloomy you're going to make me nervous," Brighid told Cuchulainn.

"Sorry. I've spent so much of my life avoiding the Otherworld that it's hard for me to step willingly into it."

"So then don't think of it as stepping into the Otherworld. We're following a trail, remember? We've hunted together before, Cu. This will be no different."

"You mean except for the spirits and the fact that we won't be in our bodies."

She frowned at him.

"All right!" He raised his hands in surrender. "We're going on a hunt."

"Good. Let's review what we know one more time." She held up her hand to tick off her fingers. "First, we've readied the labyrinth."

Cu's eyes went to the spiraling circle of stones they had placed in the center of the cave. The stones unwound smoothly around and around until they led to the small tunnel and the stream of water.

"I still don't like that," Cu said, staring claustrophobically at the constricting hole in the back of the cave.

"I don't particularly like it, either, but it fits with everything your father and my mother have said about the beginning of the spirit journey. Midhir directed us here because the tors have always been linked to the Underworld. My mother told me many times that using a labyrinth was one easy way to begin a spirit journey, as well as to return at the end of one."

"We're just following a trail," Cu repeated.

"That's all we're doing," Brighid agreed. "But I want you to remember that the labyrinth is the path back to this realm."

"I'll remember," he said, his jaw tightening. "But I will not return without you, and you should remember that."

She met his eyes. "We return together or not at all."

He scowled, but the mischievous glint was back in his turquoise eyes. "I prefer the together part of that."

"Stop worrying," she said.

"Next."

"Next - " she held up a second finger " - you join me in my dreams."

The warrior sighed. "You say that like it happens every day."

"Cuchulainn, in less than half a cycle of the moon you have entered my dreams four times."

He grinned. "I don't think you can count that last one."

She gave him a stern look. "Actually it counts for even more. We shared the same dream and neither of us had shattered souls, which means our spirits met somewhere in the Otherworld. All we need do is just to repeat what we've already done." He raised his eyebrows and coaxed a small smile from her. "Minus the sex," she added.

"So I join you in your dreams."

"That's the easiest way of putting it."

"Just now your tone, the way you looked at me, reminded me of my father," Cu said.

She curled one side of her smile. "Is that supposed to make me feel better about this journey or are you telling me our marriage is in trouble?"

He grinned at her. "You're not concentrating."

"Third - " she lifted another finger " - when our spirits are together we follow the labyrinth, beginning in the center, around and around to the tunnel entrance."

"Then we slide down into the Underworld." All trace of humor had left his voice.

"Yes, but only because that is where a Shaman Journey typically begins. We won't stay there. Your father said Epona's Chalice will not be found in the Underworld, and my mother often implied the same. I believe Epona's Chalice is in the highest realm of the spirits - the Upperworld - the realm where the Goddess is most often found." She took his hand. "Remember, Cu, there are three levels of the spirit realm - the Underworld, the Middleworld and the Upperworld. We cannot afford to get lost in the first two. Always follow the path upward and don't let anything persuade you to turn aside from our purpose."

"I'll remember. I'm ready."

"Cuchulainn, there were several things my mother made very clear to me about this journey. The first is deceptively simple because it is what even the smallest children learn as they begin to practice rituals and test their aptitude for the spirit realm."

"Leave the problems of life in the physical realm. Do not carry them with you into the Otherworld," Cu said. "I know that as well as you."

"You know it - I'm just reminding you to abide by it," Brighid said sternly. "For both of us."

"For both of us," he repeated, kissing her hand. "I'll bank the fire and make sure the gelding is seen to."

Brighid nodded and gave him a smile that was meant to cover up the fear and doubt that lurked just beneath her confident facade. As he set their camp to order she paced the length of the cave, going over and over the small, disjointed details of a High Shaman's spirit journey her mother had sprinkled throughout her childhood. One thing her mother had said kept circling around and around in Brighid's head.Before you drink of the Chalice you must face your greatest ally and your most powerful enemy - and the two are one in the same.

She hadn't known what her mother had been referring to then, and she certainly hadn't received any illuminating information that would clear up the riddle now. She'd just have to take the leap and trust herself, her Goddess, and the man at her side.

"All is ready," Cuchulainn said, striding back into the cave. "It's only early evening, hopefully we'll be back before morning."

"Don't count on it. Time passes differently in the Otherworld."

"Then let's get it over with."

Cuchulainn held out his hand to her and she joined him on the pallet they had made up carefully in the center of the labyrinth of stones. Beside them they had placed a full wineskin and a loaf of wrapped bread and cheese. The first thing they must do when they returned would be to eat and drink so that their bodies would reground in the physical realm.

"We're missing something," Brighid said. She looked around the cave till she found what she needed sheathed in Cuchulainn's scabbard. Carefully she pulled the gleaming blade free and rejoined her husband in the center of the labyrinth. He cocked an eyebrow at her.

"I'd feel better if you held this," she said. "I know you can't physically take it with us, but all things are ensouled. Perhaps the spirit of your blade will deign to accompany us."

"It would relieve my mind greatly if it did," he said, closing his hand around the familiar hilt.

They lay on the pallet, fitting their bodies together. Brighid sighed, glad that the physical awkwardness that had once been between them was gone. She pressed her head against his broad chest. Before she closed her eyes she touched the turquoise stone that hung between her breasts.

"Just breathe, Cu. Relax your body and will your soul to follow the beat of your heart to me," she whispered.

"I'll be there. I won't let you be alone," he said.

She kissed him before she closed her eyes and began the deep cleansing breaths that would take her into a trancelike state. It was an easy exercise for her. She used it often to follow the spirit trails of animals. So she fell into a meditative state quickly. Only this time instead of focusing her concentration on her chosen prey, the Huntress blocked out everything except the beat of Cuchulainn's heart.

The Shaman drums are the easiest way to find an opening to the Otherworld. All of life beats with them.

Listen and you will find an opening to the spirit of the earth.

Her mother had said those words to a very young Brighid when she had complained that Mairearad had taken too long choosing a simple drum. Brighid remembered that she had been eager to leave the crowds and heat of the open air market, and for once her mother had not snapped at her for her complaint.

Instead she had explained to her daughter why choosing the correct drum was important for a High Shaman.

Then Brighid had discounted her mother's words, and had only been grateful she had somehow avoided a reprimand. Now she used the memory to begin her own High Shaman quest. They didn't have a drum, and even if they had she knew that Cuchulainn would not have been willing to remain in this realm to beat it while she entered the Otherworld alone. She'd pondered her mother's words, trying to find a compromise. Mairearad had said that all life beats with the sound of drums...life...the heartbeat of life...and it had come to her with sudden clarity. Her husband's heart would be the life beat she would follow into the Otherworld.

So she pressed her head against his chest and let the strong beat of his heart guide her.

Thump-thump...thump-thump...thump-thump...thump-thump...

It was more magical than a drum, more primitive and real, and she would gladly follow it even to the ends of the earth.

When her spirit lifted from her body it was a much different sensation than she had experienced during her dreams or even the Magic Sleep. Her spirit was surrounded by the warmth of Cuchulainn's heartbeat and for a moment she stood beside their bodies, listening with her soul.

"You were right. It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be," Cuchulainn said. He was standing next to her and his body was illuminated by a gentle golden glow. In his hand he clutched a shimmering white sword.

"It came with you," Brighid said.

"I think my hold on it was so tight that it had little choice," the warrior said. Then he lifted his other hand and touched her face. She felt the caress like a warm breeze against her spirit. "You're incredibly beautiful like this, all silver and shining."

"You're golden," she said, touching his shoulder gently.

He looked down at his spirit form and grunted. Then lifted his eyes to hers. "Let's go."

"We follow the labyrinth. Always to the right in the journey there, and to the left when we return," she said, turning in the proper direction and beginning the circular spiral.

As they followed the path of stones Brighid noticed that the walls of the cave changed, darkening into a cavern so vast that by the time they reached what used to be little more than a small gap in the back of the cave they were instead standing before a rough rock door over which was writtenawen.

"Inspiration," Brighid whispered. "It's what it means in the ancient language of Shamans."

"Your mother told you that?"

Brighid felt her soul shiver with excitement. "No. No one told me. I just understood it."

"Then this is the way we go," Cu said. He opened the door and raised his sword protectively. But before he could step ahead of her she touched his arm.

"I have to lead here, Cu."

His nod was little more than a jerk of his head, but he stepped aside and let her precede him through the doorway. She gasped, and then disappeared.

"Brighid!" he cried, holding his sword before him and preparing to plunge into the darkness after her.

Then her laughter bubbled up from below. "It's nothing bad, just relax and let yourself go with it."

He'd go with it because she was down there, but he certainly wouldn't relax. Gritting his teeth and holding tightly to his sword he stepped through the doorway and his body fell. It spiraled gently round and round to the right, reminding him of the few times it had snowed enough at his mother's temple for the ground to be covered in slick whiteness and how he and El and the twins had fashioned childish sleds and sped down and around any surface that was at all hill-like.

His feet hit the ground and he took a moment to reorient himself. This time he and Brighid were standing directly in front of a round portal. Brighid touched his arm again.

"Be careful. This is the entrance to the Underworld. It is not our destination."

Without waiting for his reply she stepped into the portal and emerged into a sea of fog. The gray mist licked her spirit body and she shivered. She heard Cuchulainn's surprised grunt and she quickly stepped back to him and laced her fingers through his.

"By the hand of the Goddess! This was where we met in our last dream," Cuchulainn hissed.

"Brighid..." The disembodied voice came from the mist and it tingled along the centaur's spine.

"Brighid..." the voice repeated.

"We're not to stay here." Cuchulainn's voice reflected his tension.

"Wait, Cu. I know that voice."

The mist in front of them parted and Niam appeared.

"Niam!" Brighid cried, automatically moving forward to greet her, but her sister stepped back at the same time Cuchulainn's grip tightened on her hand.

"Sister, in this journey you are not to enter the Underworld." Then she smiled and her beautiful face lit, making Brighid's heart catch. "I am only here to pose one question to you. Your answer will decide whether you move on or whether you return to the physical realm." But instead of asking the question, she turned her attention to the warrior at her sister's side. "And what will you do if my sister does not drink of the High Shaman's Chalice? Will you call your handfast a mistake and return to the comfort of your castle and those who love you there?"

"In life you didn't know me, so I will not take offense at your question. I do not believe you mean to insult me, and because of that I will answer you. Whether Brighid does or does not drink of Epona's Chalice our marriage will not end. Where she goes, I will go. I will stand beside her if fire should try to burn us, if the seas should try to drown us, and if the earth should shake in tumult. And I will cherish her name as my own unto death and, if Epona wills it, beyond."

"Because you swore an oath that was much like your answer?" Niam's spirit asked, unmoved by the warrior's passionate reply.

"Because when I swore an oath I gave her my heart. To me they are one in the same."

Niam finally smiled, looking very much like her older sister. "Though you are only a man, you may be worthy of her." Then her gaze left the warrior and refocused on her sister. "Why do you wish to become a High Shaman, Brighid?"

Taken aback by her sister's question she could only blink and stare at the lovely centaur who had been so fragile in life and who now, in death, appeared so strong and confident.

"Answer now, Brighid Dhianna!" Niam's mouth formed the words, but the voice was strange and powerful. It worked on Brighid like a goad.

"I wish to become a High Shaman because I am weary with trying to escape the responsibilities I was born to. Too many tragedies, from the death of a young girl long ago, to your recent death, happened because I refused to face my fate."

"What is your fate?"

"To heal the blight my mother's reign has spread."

"And what of your personal desires?"

Brighid raised her chin. "I belong to Cuchulainn and he to me - with or without me attaining the ability to shapeshift."

Niam smiled and her voice returned to her own. "When I said personal desires I wasn't referring to your new husband, sister. As a High Shaman you will wield great power. What of that?"

This time Brighid thought before she answered. She had always liked the sensation of Feeling the spirits of animals. She had relied on it and used it for good. And she remembered the rush of excitement breathing in Cu's spirit had brought her. It had been a heady Feeling. Not just kissing him for the first time, but having the power to guide his spirit back to his body. She could protest to Ciara, Cuchulainn, and even to Etain, but she knew that deep within her soul she delighted in the power that simmered in her blood.

Slowly she met Niam's eyes. "What I think is that I will have to be very careful to wield great power wisely - to listen to the Goddess and my conscience more than my emotions and desires."

Her sister's smile was radiant. "Then may Epona bless you with her Chalice." Niam made a wide, sweeping motion with her arm and to the right of the Huntress and the warrior the mist roiled and bubbled before parting to expose a flight of gray stone stairs which led straight up and disappeared into more grayness.

Brighid turned to say goodbye to her sister, but the mist had already closed, obscuring the centaur's form. The Huntress drew back her shoulders and said to Cuchulainn, "Let's climb."

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