Brenna's eyes blazed gold, like the flames dancing across the surface of the water, and then Ciaran realized she was Brenna and his hands hurt fiercely and then - then the face in the bowl was gone.
Ciaran wrenched himself backward, closed his agonizing hand over the hilt of his sword.
"What was that? Who was that? What did you do to me?"
Brenna emptied the bowl carefully, hissed when her fingertips lingered too long on the metal. "That was your mother, Brighid. In life she was Ceri."
"In life? Then she's dead."
"No. Gone home."
"She left us behind."
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