Time Raiders: The Avenger. P.C. Cast

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      The words of the blessing whispered through her mind like the echo of a pleasant dream. Without any hesitation Alex recited, “We arise today, through the strength of Andraste and her earth—light of sun, radiance of moon, splendor of fire, speed of lightning, swiftness of wind, depth of sea, firmness of rock. As priestess of the goddess I ask blessing and protection for our queen and for her people. Let the justness of Boudica’s cause shine pure and visible to all, like the blossoms of this sacred rowan.”

      Alex poured the last of the libations out as she finished the prayer. Then she bowed to the tree, breathed a deep sigh of contentment and turned to face Boudica.

      The queen’s smile was as bright as the morning. “With Andraste’s blessing, we march on to Londinium!” she cried, and the people surrounding them took up her call, cheering their queen.

      Alex sneaked a glance at Caradoc and wasn’t too surprised that she caught him staring at her—though she was taken off guard when he slowly, subtly, bowed his head.

      Chapter 8

      Alex was profoundly glad she already knew how to handle a horse. Sometimes horseback was the only efficient way to get to many remote places on the tallgrass prairie. Plus, she’d always preferred the silent ease of riding a horse to the obnoxious motor and jarring shocks of an ATV. Of course, riding a couple hours or so once or twice a week wasn’t exactly the same thing as riding with Boudica’s army all day long, through what looked like the forest primeval. The one thing Alex didn’t have to worry about was that she didn’t know how to make a horse start, stop and turn.

      The “everything else” she did have to worry about was mainly Caradoc. The druid warrior was sticking to her as if someone had joined them at the hip. Under normal circumstances, Alex might not have minded a gorgeous man hanging out with her, but joining Boudica’s army and masquerading as a priestess of the queen’s goddess definitely did not qualify as normal circumstances.

      Caradoc made her nervous. Very nervous.

      It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t just the two of them. The ridiculous part was that it should have been impossible for them to find any privacy in the middle of a marching army, but apparently Boudica had put out the word that the druid and the priestess needed time to speak, time to grieve. Time, Alex decided, for me to start working on one hell of an ulcer.

      So they rode together near the front of the army, within sight of Boudica and her inner circle, but in a little pocket of privacy.

      “You did not come from Mona.” That was how Caradoc began the conversation once it was obvious they were going to be left alone and uninterrupted.

      “No. I didn’t,” Alex said. His mother’s prompting wasn’t all that had made her decide to avoid lies. Telling the truth felt right, deep in her gut, and if Alex was sure of nothing else, she was sure that she was going to follow her gut.

      Caradoc gave her an incredulous look. “You do not even attempt to deny it?”

      “Well, that wouldn’t make any sense, would it?”

      He stared at her silently.

      “I mean, seriously, how long had you lived on Mona before the Roman attack?”

      “More than half of my twenty-five years I have lived on the sacred isle of Mona.”

      Alex was temporarily speechless. The place he’d called home for most of his life had been destroyed. And he’s twenty-five! Ten years younger than me! Alex shook herself mentally and said, “See, it wouldn’t make any sense for me to pretend to you I’d come from your home when you know very well that you’ve never seen me before.”

      “I have seen you before,” Caradoc said.

      “What? How?”

      Instead of meeting her curious gaze, the druid warrior stared straight ahead. “In my dreams. The past many nights. I have seen your face and heard your voice.”

      Shock kept Alex from editing what burst out of her mouth. “You’ve been in my dreams, too. Only I couldn’t see your face. I just heard your voice and I got an image of your woad.” She paused, wishing he would look at her so she could read his expression more easily. “But you actually saw me in your dreams?”

      Caradoc nodded. “Yes. You were dressed oddly.”

      Alex glanced down at the druid’s linen tunic and leather pants, both of which were embroidered with the same swirling S design of his tattoos. Had she actually seen him in her dreams she would have thought he was dressed strangely, too. So it was easy to imagine that her typical outfit of jeans and a T-shirt would have seemed utterly bizarre to this ancient Celt.

      “You said you heard my voice. What did I say?” Alex asked, deciding it was best not to mention anything about clothing.

      He didn’t answer her for so long that Alex didn’t think he was going to speak again. Just as she was going to say something banal about the weather, he said, “You told me to wait for you, and promised to come to me.” He did turn in the saddle then so that he could look her in the eye, and demanded, “Where did you come from, Soul Speaker, and what is it you want from me?”

      While she stalled for time and tried to think of a reasonable answer that wasn’t a lie, Alex said, “I really wish you wouldn’t call me Soul Speaker.”

      “Blonwen, then. Where did you come from?” he repeated.

      “I can’t tell you that,” she stated.

      “Can you tell me why I shouldn’t expose you to Boudica as a fraud?”

      “I’m not here to cause Boudica any harm. I respect the queen and think her cause is just.”

      “Still, that doesn’t tell me why I shouldn’t expose you.”

      Alex was trying to formulate a reasonable response to him when the air behind Caradoc shimmered and the ghost of his mother materialized, sitting behind him on his horse’s rump. She smiled and motioned for her to go on.

      Alex sighed and tried not to let the spirit distract her. “I’m here for a reason that goes beyond Boudica and her war. It has ramifications that will affect the whole world. No, I can’t tell you what they are.” You wouldn’t believe me anyway, she added silently to herself. “But I can promise you I want only good things for Boudica.”

      “Yet you lie to her.”

      “Only because I have to. I’m telling the truth about everything I can.”

      “I know you can speak to souls. You could not have described my mother’s burial garb had you not seen her, and I know you could not have made up her words. But I do not believe you are a true Soul Speaker. Aedan said he asked for your aid in summoning the spirit of his father, and you denied him.”

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