“Well, shite. That makes sense, then. She saw backward as well as forward.”
“Whoa,” Diana said, excitement thrumming through her. “If she really could see the past, then her myths are true. We know so little about Celtic beliefs, but she did, because she could actually see it.”
She held out her hand for the book. Warren passed it to her and she sat next to Cadan and began to skim through the pages, glancing at the chapter headings for something familiar.
Within minutes, a shiver skittered up her spine at the sight of chapter title she recognized. She hadn’t noticed it before, but now that she had Boudica’s memories, it stood out. Quickly, she skimmed the story. Visions from her childhood, the first one, flashed across her mind. Their Druid priestess had loved to tell this tale, and it had been her favorite as well.
But now, with the idea of embodying the role of the heroine, her blood ran cold. When Warren had said she was destined to die as part of her reincarnation, she hadn’t really believed him. But this story... Her stomach clutched as she looked up at Cadan.
“I think the answer is in the story of Andrasta—how she became a goddess.” Her voice trembled only slightly, but she could take no joy in her show of bravery as she looked up to meet the eyes that had been watching her for the last few minutes.
“Your patron goddess?” Cadan asked.
Diana nodded. Andrasta was the Celtic goddess of victory, the one that Boudica had called upon during her revolt—the one she had made a symbol of her campaign. It was all coming full circle, but she had the sick feeling that the circle was going to close all too soon.
“You don’t remember how she became a goddess?” she asked Cadan.
“Bits and pieces. No’ enough to say so.”
Diana swallowed to force the boulder down her throat. “She was born mortal, but her skill with a bow attracted the attentions of Camulos, the god of war. He didn’t like the idea of a mortal sharing his skill, and so he sought to kill her. But Andrasta got lucky when he came after her. He was arrogant and didn’t think she was a real match for him, and she killed his mortal form.
“His soul was sent to Otherworld, the Celtic land of the gods and deceased mortals, where he plotted to regain his physical form so that he could come after Andrasta and her family. She knew he would succeed. He was a god, after all. To protect her family, she knew that she had to kill him once and for all. Killing him in the land of the gods, where she could destroy his soul and not just his body, would ensure that he could never come back again. And she was the only one who could do it, since she had sent his soul there in the first place.” She stopped speaking for a moment, remembering what Esha had said about the power of souls and her connection with Paulinus.
“But the only way to get to the land of souls is to die.” She saw Cadan’s knuckles whiten on the arms of the chair, but he didn’t say anything, and let her continue. “So she killed herself, knowing it would free her soul to pass over.”
Blackness started to creep in on the edges of her vision, forcing her to close her eyes and focus on breathing carefully to keep herself upright.
“And it worked,” Esha said.
Diana nodded, unable to speak, and was relieved when Cadan continued to speak for her.
“Aye, it worked. In thanks for ridding them of an unwise god, the other gods allowed her to take his place, for she was wise and just, two qualities a war god required if the world was going to thrive rather than be dragged into endless strife.”
The room was silent for a minute and Diana’s empty stomach heaved.
Esha broke the silence. “Damn it. It’s not a coincidence. Your blade couldn’t hurt Paulinus. You could hurt the demons, because of their ability to go back and forth between earth and Erebus means they straddle both realms, as you did when I projected part of your soul. But Paulinus is fully within the afterworld. For you to hurt him, he must be able to hurt you, too. The universe wants equality that way. You have to lay it all on the line. You’ll have to do as Andrasta did.”
It was too much for Diana. Bile burned in her throat and she stumbled for the bathroom. The hard floor bit into her knees as she heaved. Cadan wrapped an arm around her shoulders and held her hair back.
When the dry heaving finally ceased, and with her throat burning, she raised her head and stared blankly into space. Something buzzed faintly in her ears, and as if from outside of herself, she felt Cadan scoop her up into his arms.
“We’ll speak to you soon.” Esha’s voice echoed. The sound of the door shutting behind Esha and Warren as they departed the flat barely made a dent in the buzzing that was sounding in Diana’s head.
Cadan gave her water to wash out her mouth and carried her through the flat to the bedroom and placed her gently in a big chair in the corner of the room. He grabbed a throw blanked from the back and wrapped it around her, but no matter how cozy the wool, the chill in her bones remained.
“I’ll be back.”
She nodded, unable to speak. This was so real. She was going to die to get into hell. The idea raced in circles around her mind until Cadan returned to the room with a steaming mug of tea. He put it into her hands, and though the warmth made her sigh, she didn’t drink.
Cadan sank down onto the floor next to the chair. After a while, when some of the shock had worn off, she noticed that he’d laid his hand on the arm of the chair. After a moment, she reached down to lace her fingers with his.
After a while – minutes or hours, she had no idea – Diana put the cold tea mug on the ground. The chill in her heart threatened to shatter her into a million pieces. She’d tried to reconcile the future that was before her with the one that she’d envisioned for herself. There was no overlap. Even when she’d first arrived in this world, she hadn’t imagined that she might never return to her own.
She looked down and met Cadan’s gaze. His eyes searched hers, worry creasing his forehead.
“I need you,” she murmured, then s
tood and tugged on his hand until he rose.