Tobias wanted to touch him so badly, but Aiden needed to navigate this on his own. Aiden would either spook and run, or he’d figure out they were for real.
“She’s not kidding, Aiden,” Alejandro said. “And I think you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t having some strange experiences of your own. We’ve all had them. That’s why we work together. Look at me.” He gestured to his slender form. He was dressed in a neat, pale blue dress shirt under a purple cashmere pullover. Nice, black, knife-creased wool slacks met fancy black leather shoes on his feet. “If you need computer work done, I’m top in my field. I dress this way because people give a man in a dress shirt more money than they give a man in a T-shirt and jeans, but this clothing doesn’t mean I’m not a brujo. And it doesn’t mean I haven’t seen some uncanny shit.”
Aidan exhaled, pushing the air past his lips in a whoosh. “Okay. Okay, I can get that. At least I’m willing to for now.”
Tobias cleared his throat. “So now that we have this information, I feel like it changes everything we talked about at the Interfaith Council. We have some vital information that the rest of those people don’t have. So I’m wondering what we’re going to do with it? We are having our meeting tonight anyway, and I propose we do some magic about this.”
Tobias looked around the living room. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire, and Zion’s distant humming as he did homework in the kitchen.
“I propose that, just like we did a working to take down that developer, Carter, we do some magic to figure out how to help these houseless people. That’s the least we can do, right? But what I’d rather do is pull down the entire house of cards.”
Aiden cleared his throat. Right. There was that, too.
Tobias sighed. “And there’s one more piece of information that’s not on the table yet. Brigid came to us this morning. She had another message.”
He exchanged a glance with Aiden.
Aiden spoke. “She told us to prepare. That a battle was coming. That it was almost here.”
Lucy stood up and started pacing in front of the big stone fireplace. She shook her hands, as if she was shaking out spirits or demons. She started speaking as she walked. “We need to catch the pattern. We need to see the web. We see all the flies”—she stopped and looked at everyone,—“but I think we haven’t yet figured out who exactly the spider is.”
Tobias found himself nodding. “I think you’re right, Lucy. And I say we bring the battle to their door. Let’s figure out how.”
“Oh. And there’s one more thing,” Aiden said. “I didn’t mention it before, Tobias, because so much has been going on, and because frankly, it feels like bullshit.”
“What’s that?”
“The Interfaith Council is meeting tonight. Without you.”
“On purpose?”
Aiden just gave him a look.
“Fuck them,” Lucy said. “They’re going to need us before all of this is through.”
“I’m heading there now to convince them of it,” Aiden said.
Tobias crossed the room and kissed Aiden, right in front of the whole coven. Aiden kissed him back. Then Tobias helped him up and walked him to the door.
“If you want to come over after the meeting tonight, just text me, okay?”
“Okay.”
Tobias folded Aiden into his arms, and breathed him in for a moment. “Stay safe for me, will you?”
They kissed again, long and slow this time. Then Aiden went off into the cold and dark.
Tobias had asked Aiden to stay safe, but Tobias? He all of a sudden knew that he wasn’t safe at all. He had fallen, hard and fast, for that man. And plants and trees were talking to him in the rain. And Brigid was preparing him for battle.
Tobias realized he was glad. Fiercely glad. Life was dangerous. And it was all a gift.
24
Aiden
Jaqueline was having trouble keeping control of the meeting, though Lord knew she was trying.
What amazed Aiden was that he knew she was a very skilled facilitator—it was why she always got picked to lead meetings. But nothing was helping that night. The warring camps in the meeting room were having none of it. They would not be placated on either side. Aiden couldn’t blame them. His own fury was back, except the anger he had felt for the police was now directed at the people in this room.
They were back in the meeting room and diminished in numbers, because after someone had decided to exclude the coven, some of the Buddhists had quit in disgust. Aiden hoped they’d be back. He felt badly even being here. He hadn’t expected to meet with the coven tonight, and felt guilty about not mentioning it to them before.
He had little patience with petty interfaith infighting, and with everything else going on, it had felt stupid to drag the coven into it. He felt better having at least mentioned it, he had to admit. Like he wasn’t keeping a secret anymore.
If it turned out the coven needed to do this work on their own, that might even be a good thing. At least they wouldn’t have to put up with this bullshit.
Reverend Laney was in full voice tonight, which, considering that his voice was scratchy and harsh, wasn’t a pleasant experience. An older white gentleman, vest straining slightly over a small pot belly, he was on his feet and shouting at Rabbi Schwartz in front of the whiteboard. The rabbi leapt up from her chair, her rail-thin body practically trembling. Shoulders squared and head back, she looked like she wished she had stun gun or something. Maybe even a weapon of mass destruction.
Aiden was angry, sure, but there was a part of him that also felt amused. This sort of people, this kind of infighting was what tore most groups apart. It was also the thing that kept them from actually helping other people. Such a waste.
It made him even more thankful for the soup kitchen. Thankful for people who realized, even though they had differences and disagreements, that the bottom line was feeding people every day.
There was a tingling in his chest, a sign that the fire was returning. The longer the shouting went on, the more the fire increased. He tried to remember the feeling of Brigid telling him to prepare for battle. And to recall the sense of Her mantle around his shoulders. It helped. His anger slowly morphed into a sense of resolute certainty.
He caught Jaqueline looking between Reverend Laney and himself, eyes darting back and forth. He wondered what that was about. Was she waiting for him to do something?
She was.
All of a sudden, he knew. He knew what he had to do. The story Tobias had told him, as they drank wine in his bed. Brigid’s story.
He stood up and held his arms out wide, palms of his hands facing down, the way a person might bless a congregation. It took a while for Reverend Laney and Rabbi Schwartz to even notice. He just stood there, silent, breathing, eyes open, arms outstretched.
Finally the rabbi sputtered to a stop, and the reverend whipped his head around. “What the hell are you doing?”
Power thrummed through Aiden. He was getting used to it by now, and didn’t fight it. Pour through me, he thought. Speak through me.
“I am speaking the truth of the ages. I am calling on the holy fire. I am calling upon those who stand for justice. I am calling upon those who seek love. This quarreling is beneath us. I speak to remind us of the truth of this beloved world.”
He inhaled, and it felt as though the whole room inhaled with him. He exhaled, and felt the power of the Holy Spirit moving like a wind. “I call upon each of you here, now, to open your hearts. Open your minds. Call down the holy fire with me. Let’s remember why we’re here.”
Aiden waited. He waited until he felt the spirit settle. He could sense that some people were still fighting it. Like Reverend Laney. He breathed in more deeply and exhaled again. The flame inside of him burned clear and true.
“If serving the houseless is our mission and our mandate, why would we reject any help that comes our way? If we can work together, Catholic, Buddhist, Sikh, Baptist, and Jew, why then would we reject those w
ho come to us in good faith, who practice their own religion?”
Jaqueline was nodding at him. He looked at every face gathered there in the circle, making sure they knew he saw them. He could tell that she saw them too. Brigid. Of course. Brigid.
Reverend Laney spoke again, more quietly this time. “I don’t understand how you, a good Catholic, can countenance working with witches.”
“I want to tell you all a story I heard just yesterday, when I needed it. It’s about St. Brigid.”
“We don’t have time for stories!” Reverend Laney said.
“Hush, please, you’ve spoken enough,” said Dan, from the Episcopal church.
Aiden waited. Reverend Laney and Rabbi Schwartz both sat back down. Then he began, voice taking on the cadence of the storyteller, spinning words into the fluorescent-lit room as though the gathered people sat around a campfire.
“Brigid, it is said, wanted a piece of land for the people. She wanted a place where they could till the soil and feed each other. A place where her sisters could live in community, to worship, and grow strong. But the mayor and the landlords had locked up all the land, and the archbishop was in on it, too.”
He paused. “There’s a long history of the church and the state working together against the people, you know. Putting money before God and community.”
A few people had their arms crossed over their chests. Still not entirely happy. Others looked at him, waiting for him to go on. A few were even nodding. He noticed that on the whiteboard tonight was a quote from the Bible, written in red. The greatest of these is love. 1 Corinthians, 13.
“Well, Brigid, she was very clever. She came to the Archbishop and the mayor, and she said, ‘I need this land for the people.’ They said, ‘You cannot have it all, but we can offer you a small gift.’ Brigid pretended to think about it. Then she said ‘Would you consider giving me the amount of land that will fit beneath my mantle? It is all I need.’ The Archbishop and the mayor smiled indulgently and laughed. ‘Of course we would,’ the mayor said, ‘Stretch your mantle out on the field and we will mark it for you and that land will be yours to do with as you wish.’
Aiden wished he had some water or tea. His throat was getting dry. But the fire burned on inside him, and the story wasn’t done.
“‘Very well,’ said Brigid, ‘you are very gracious and generous men.’”
Aiden could feel that everyone was listening now. He felt Brigid’s mantle wrapped around his shoulders. He felt the clear flame burning in his heart.
“Brigid and three of her nuns went to the vast and fertile field. Each took a corner of her green mantle. ‘Walk as far as you can, without the mantle ripping or touching the ground,’ Brigid said. So the four women set out, walking north, south, east, west, each holding a corner of the mantle in her hand. As they walked, each step of prayer, the mantle stretched and stretched and grew. And they kept walking south and north, west and east, and still the mantle stretched behind them, growing in their hands. And finally Brigid stopped and turned. ‘This is enough,’ she said. ‘This is a goodly parcel, for us to build our home, and for the people to have rich soil to grow their food.’ She looked out across the vast acreage to where the mayor and the Archbishop were but small dots on the horizon. And she raised her voice, and sounding like the trumpet of God, her voice carried across the green. ‘As you have decreed, this is the land that fits beneath my mantle. This land is under my protection now. This land is held for the people of God and we thank you for it.’”
Aiden walked, pacing around the circle, touching the back of every chair, gripping a shoulder here, touching an outstretched hand there. The spirit was still with him. The spirit was still with the room. He could feel it.
“If Brigid herself, a woman I know as a saint—but that my friend Tobias from the Arrow and Crescent coven tells me is also a Goddess—offers us the example of claiming land for the people, should we not work together to do the same? And if Brigid herself used magic to ease suffering and to challenge the powers and principalities of her day, should we not do the same?”
Rabbi Schwartz stood again, turned toward Aiden, and spoke, “You shame us all, Aiden, and I thank you for it. Thank you for reminding us of the task at hand, and asking us to remember that in order to do God’s work, we need to put aside our petty squabbles.” She turned to the committee. “But more importantly than that, he reminds us that the primary work of spirit is the work of justice. And if we are to honor a just God, then we should take whatever help comes. I hope everyone here agrees.” She sat back down.
Jaqueline stood then. “Thank you, Aiden. And well said, Rabbi. Reverend Laney? Did you have anything you needed to say?”
The Reverend shook his head, mouth tight.
“Then can we all agree, please, that the Arrow and Crescent Coven is invited back? All in favor, please raise your hand.”
Every hand in the room except Reverend Laney’s reached for the sky.
Aiden bit his tongue. He had said enough. The holy fire was dying down. He didn’t trust himself to speak without it. He might rip the reverend’s head off.
“Reverend? Are you willing to stand aside?” Jaqueline asked.
“Yes.”
Good. Aiden would tell Tobias. And hoped Jaqueline would call the Buddhists, too. And some Sikhs. And maybe that man Arnie from the Wasco tribe that Raquel had mentioned. It was time to get to work.
25
Tobias
The circle was cast, and flickering candles on the central altar perfumed the air with the scent of melting beeswax. A tall, pillar candle stood at the very center, and a dark dish filled with water was placed next to it. The white paint on the sloped attic ceiling reflected the candlelight.
Arrow and Crescent were gathered, all nine members, each taking a place in the sacred circle.
Moss and Lucy had called upon Brigid to join them. Tobias felt Her presence like a breath of early spring, caressing his face and massaging his head. It made him feel as though he could start anything. As though all of his angst and worry, all of his fear and sorrow, could become fertile soil for something that was yet to come. He finally felt the possibility of a fresh start.
A beginning.
Some rituals were like that: there was the larger focus, the work the group was doing. Sometimes that felt like the more important work. But there was also the magic that each individual carried into the circle, and that the circle answered back. That was important, too.
Good ritual repaired the fabric of the world. Be it individual, or community. Be it global, or cosmic. The Gods and spirits had their own plans and wishes, as did the earth, and if the human stepped up to meet them—Tobias had been taught by Brenda and Raquel, and every member of this coven—healing could occur, from past to future. He was taught that the present was a fulcrum, and that every moment was a chance to regain the balance that had been lost.
His own balance of fire and earth met the scent of air. That was what he brought to circle tonight.
Raquel began to rock and sway on her cushion, dreadlocks swinging out and back moving with her. She held out her hands, left palm facing downward, right palm facing up, receiving and giving, a way of passing blessings around the circle. Tobias matched her swaying. The whole circle, all nine bodies, began to move, rocking like a gentle wave, syncing their breathing, letting their attention deepen.
“Slow your breathing down,” Raquel said. Her voice was warm like the flames of the candles, strong and soothing. “Let all your thoughts, your worries, your hopes, your fears, drop down into the stillness in your belly. Breathe deeply. Breathe in the blessings of this coven, the blessings of this night, and the blessings of Brigid herself.”
Rocking and swaying, swaying and rocking. Tobias’s eyes rolled back in his head he took in a shuddering breath and let go.
“Holy Brigid, holy Brigid, holy Brigid.” The words were coming from Tobias’s lips, but it felt as though he was not even speaking them. The energy just moved through his lungs,
vibrating his vocal cords, and formed words before his mind even thought them.
“Brigid, I pledge to you to forge justice from the fires of love. I’m still working out what that means, but I have a feeling that this work we are called to do here tonight is part of that. I ask you to inform us, to show us the way. I call upon your wisdom. Your powers of healing. And I call upon the strength you imbue in every tool that passes through your forge. Holy Brigid, let us be tools in the hands of love and justice. Let us be shaped to this purpose. So that we may help those who are in greatest need.”
This time it was Brenda’s voice who picked up the thread. “Send your spirits outward,” she told the coven. “Release your spirit from your physical form until together we are flying above the city, our beloved Portland, Oregon. Look at the lights, see the gleaming ribbons of the great Willamette and Columbia Rivers. Gaze on the spans of bridges. Feel the animals, the people, the houses, the cars, the trees and mountains that form this city, the cinder cones and volcanoes that ring it, and feel our connection to each other and our connection to this place.”
Tobias breathed deeply, trusting that his physical body took in the air. When he first joined the coven and learned astral journeying, he never knew if he was just pretending or not. What he discovered over the years was that it didn’t really matter. The teaching went that imagination, thought, and experience were all intertwined. If something affected you, it made it real. So he trusted now, and let his spirit fly. He opened his inner eye, gazing down upon the city.
After his senses had opened full force that morning, everything looked brighter, and felt stronger, palpable.
He felt the coven around him, all flying. Tugged forward by a calling, a sense of need, he started flying towards downtown. Crossing the Willamette River, he headed to the large encampment in the Pearl District, just north of downtown.
The camp seemed particularly vital and alive. There were many shining dots of humanity all clustered together.
By Flame Page 12