That was the thing about death. Everyone assumed that they knew what the dearly departed would have wanted, that they would send a smile from the great beyond to endorse an action or a storm to exalt it. This role had been thrust upon me. It would have been easier if becoming High Priestess had been part of my training. That would have come later, as my mother’s death had not been foreseen.
Yet another question left unanswered, as she was High Priestess, and psychic ability had been bestowed upon her, along with heightened intuition. I often wondered if those very same abilities would soon be granted to me as well. The goddess had gifted me with the power of my bloodline, and the power of High Priestess, but I supposed much greater blessings would come once I’d proven my worth.
Mother’s death, however, was still a mystery to me.
Learning to cook meals and survive the occasional harsh winters had never prepared me to lead a group of witches who powered most of the kingdom. I was nowhere near prepared to fill her shoes. I needed her guidance now more than ever. The painful sting of her death touched my soul once more, the mere thought searing my broken heart.
I felt as though I would never be able to protect the coven as she had. Self-doubt crept into my mind as often as the sun rose and set. Spinning in circles, my compass lost, I knew I had to be the one to decide or face the dire consequences of my actions. I needed to cast all doubt aside and become the woman my mother would have wanted me to be.
In time, perhaps I would. I only had to will it to be so.
“All right, Sadie. We are never to speak of what happened this day, of how I saved the dragon.” I peered directly into her eyes. “Do you understand what may happen if it were to get back to the coven?”
She nodded. “While I disagree with them, yes, I do, and I will keep our secret.” She bent to pluck mugwort leaves and then placed them inside her basket. “I also stand by my word, regardless of what the coven may believe.”
“You must understand, it’s treason, Sadie.” I rubbed my hand along my brow. “I shouldn’t have interfered.”
“Those who reside on Dragon Mountain are also entitled to basic rights,” Sadie began. “You can’t believe the rumors, Nova. You are deceiving yourself to judge them based on what you’ve heard and never seen.”
I remained quiet. Before today, I’d only heard tales of the Great Moon Dragons, and never set my eyes upon one. They were creatures who were said to hunt our kind on the night of the Blood Moon. And although the council elders claimed my mother had been slaughtered by a dragon, she hadn’t died on a Blood Moon, which left me with more questions than answers. I wasn’t certain they’d done a proper inquiry into her true cause of death. Several of the elders were damned fools, and Mother had thought so as well. I could hardly stand to be in their presence. However, I continued to remain wary.
“King Artuis has declared war against them,” Sadie continued. “While I was in Goldcrest, I overheard the humans speaking of it. He hunts the dragons to retract their scales for his armor, and those of his men. He seeks out the most glorious of beasts for his own vanity.” Her eyes were filled with unshed tears.
Sadie was the most honest and innocent of our coven, tenderhearted. She was the good one longed for in this world and held the belief that all creatures had kindness within them, but it was the path they chose that determined their future. And this was one of the many reasons I loved her so. She tended to keep me grounded when I felt all was lost.
Young, foolish, and perhaps naïve? I, too, had heard these rumors, but also that they hadn’t always been innocent dragons—they’d feasted upon humans who’d resided in the valleys below. According to my mother, during the time of King Merrick, the Great Moon Dragons had descended from their sacred mountain and sought to enslave the people within the realm, but the mighty king had fought against the beasts, driving them back to their frozen stone landscape.
The hands of the coven hadn’t been blameless in this: the women of the woods gathered. They had called down the power of the Hunter’s Moon, creating the highly poisonous, thorn apple flower. All magic truly did come with a cost, something I’d learned long ago from Mother, and this one in particular still baffled us. If the dragons were so evil, then why did the goddess cast punishment upon our coven? I’d always asked my mother this question. She’d said that the gods were not always understood. Her answer had been dramatic, nonsensical even. I was certain she had no explanation, either.
My inaction was how I’d dealt with the situation. Right now, though, I needed to focus on keeping those under my care safe at all costs.
But Mother had warned me to maintain my distance from the dragons, to never interact with the beasts. I was never truly certain if it had been a warning for my safety, or if it were only to keep to the rules sanctioned by the coven. Nevertheless, I had regarded her words of caring for all creatures. And because of this, there was a warring battle raging inside my mind, regardless of Sadie’s kindness. The indecision. Weren’t dragons considered creatures worth saving, too? I had to believe my mother would have thought so as well.
The sun began to set as we parted through the trees, and Sadie stopped first. She had a strange expression on her face: a mixture of what happened each time she observed a ceremonial tart made with spiced gourds and whipped cream. When she bit her lip, I knew she must be falling ill.
That wasn’t something I’d ever seen before.
The scent of fresh-growing jasmine wafted in the light breeze. Ducks quacked, and I heard the sound of splashing water. Glancing up, I turned.
And gobsmacked, I stared at the dripping-wet specimen in the lake. He was gorgeous. Broad shouldered, his ash-brown, shoulder-length hair dripped, the water racing down his chiseled abs into the depths of the lake. Everything fell to black and white, and I continued to stare. I wanted something… To see more, perhaps?
My mouth went dry.
My breath hitched.
He flexed his powerful arms, whipping the water away from his oval-shaped face. His jaw was covered with a tapered full beard, his lips kissable, his nose aquiline.
Sadie cleared her throat. “Nova, we should give him some privacy. Surely, it’s not courteous for us to spy on him.”
He turned, and on his left side, I noticed a large red-and-black dragon tattoo—the mark of the dragon—and a loud gasp escaped my lips.
He glanced up and, for a moment, our eyes clashed. It was fire and ice. I’d seen many things in the grove, but never one such as this. My heart flip-flopped. Heat surrounded me as though I burned from the inside out, and my hands began to sweat unnaturally. A shiver of desire coursed through me.
I could get lost in his striking sea-green gaze.
Yet, it was forbidden.
“Come, Nova, there is much for you to prepare tonight.”
Yes, the dreaded ceremony… I simply couldn’t wait.
I ducked my head, after catching one last peek, until his look of interest curved into a frown, and then he turned away.
“Did you not notice he used the thorn apple flower to treat his wound?” Sadie asked, attempting to nudge me away from the line of trees and the view of what I knew I shouldn’t be gazing upon. Or blatantly gawking. I had definitely been caught ogling. I flushed at the thought.
“Wound?” I’d noticed nothing that indicated he had been injured. I must have been a bit too distracted by his handsome features and magnificence.
I bit back those words. Surely it was sinful to imagine how his slickened body might feel under my palms. Where were those thoughts coming from? That was not how the high priestess was supposed to think. Nor was it how the high priestess was expected to behave.
Males were only allowed to those who chose them over the coven. Much like my mother had chosen my father, Heru, however, that had been a different era, and she’d told the council elders that, because the moon shone at the same time as the sun during a Lunar eclipse, she would remain with him where they would raise me together. That was, until tragedy had st
ruck our lives just after my tenth birthday. Even so, my father had taught me a lot of the forest creatures, the enchanted Land Wights of Silver Moon Grove, and our family crest: the white fox.
After my father’s death, Mother hadn’t been the same, but her strength and courage never wavered.
I was not my mother, and I wasn’t certain if I even wanted a man. Not now, anyway… Maybe. But the fact remained, I had to learn how to be an effective High Priestess, for goddess’s sake. I’d only held the title for six months.
And regardless of how delectable he appeared, I couldn’t allow temptation to be my guide.
“You’re right, Sadie. Surely, it’s a sign that the insufferable man is poisonous to our kind. We should give him a wide berth and remain clear, telling no one of what we’ve seen.”
“Insufferable? How do you know if you’ve not spoken to him?”
“He’s a man. What could we possibly have in common?”
Sadie lifted her hand and giggled. “I’ve heard the moans of the women in the village. They seemed to find much delight with their male companionship.”
“They must have been playing dead, shooing those brawny beasts away with their pleas for help.”
“I did hear one practically giving the man directions. She kept screaming, ‘to the left, no to the right. Not so fast.’”
“It was a dance then, you think?” I frowned in question. This seemed quite odd, but I held back my snicker.
“A dance of the dead. You’re so wise, Nova, and that’s why you were so perfectly chosen from your bloodline as our High Priestess.” Sadie linked her arm through mine and back toward the coven we went.
“Now you have me wondering if he’s any good at this dancing?” Sadie said aloud.
“I’ll never know. It’s not as if I’ve been taught those sorts of steps.”
Chapter 3
“Perhaps tonight I’ll be chosen,” Sadie announced. “Oh, Nova, I do hope so.”
It was easy to play naïve with Sadie in hopes of preserving her innocence. Poor Sadie needed to hear the truth of procreation from the mouth of her mother, Aurora, and not from me. That, too, would surely happen when she entered the right of passage to womanhood. Until then, the most I could do was take her down to the stables during the mare’s heat cycle.
“Don’t rush growing up. You still have a good year ahead of you. And, I would hate to lose you to that world.”
“You suffer only from a lack of self-confidence, dearest Nova. Don’t worry, even though I love you as if we were of the same blood, if not more. You only need to find your footing.”
Sadie could always see through me. That’s what true friendship was all about. It built up, embraced, kept me from leaping from the temple’s pinnacle. She talked down my fears and raised me up, made me feel as though I could fly.
She was even more special than she knew.
When Sadie and I returned to the covens’ grounds, finding the three levels of witches busy, the young witchlings—ages three through seven—were racing around the courtyard in a game of Krughaven, and a blue orb was floating above. They were each taking turns zapping it, causing sparkling dust to flutter to the ground according to the wand wielder’s wish. The gossamers, those who could be chosen in the Coming-of-Age ceremony tonight, swept with birch twig brooms. All the while, the harridans watched from the courtyard above.
Gaiety floated all around. As if on cue, Aurora led the elders and approached from the side. The elders couldn’t be missed in their shiny, metallic-silver capes as they swished against the cobblestone pathway.
“High Priestess,” Aurora said and bowed her head. “The elders have arrived to oversee tonight’s ceremony. I take it you’ve found the necessary ingredients, and Sadie didn’t give you a hard time?” She scarcely cast a glance at her daughter, only stared at me and then clapped. “Let us commence.”
All merriment and games ceased. Those present then moved to line up. The older of the fold stood to the side enclosure.
Aurora then took our baskets, and Sadie went to stand in line amongst her caste.
I gave Sadie an assuring smile, and then turned to Aurora. “I should head to my chambers and prepare the divination pool.”
“No, of course not, Nova,” Sister Cloris said. “We’ve prepared it all.” Hump-backed, with a crow-like glare, and her wiry gray hair tucked in a black lace head wrap, as all the elders wore, she sucked her teeth. She then pointed at me and wagged her knobby finger. “Your mother would never have allowed us to enter this keep in such a condition.” She pivoted to wave at the walkways still partially littered with cherry blossom petals. “She would turn in her grave if she knew you’d not yet risen to even her expectations.” Her voice was filled with venom as though I’d somehow disrespected her and the entire coven.
“Sister Cloris.” Aurora interrupted. “Our beloved High Priestess may not be great in age, but she does what one such as her must do and gathered the necessary mugwort that has been empowered with the magic of Selenaia herself.” Aurora hefted up the basket and passed it to her apprentice, Janus the Red, her name given because of her long, fiery red hair (not to be confused with Janus the Weak, Janus the Infatuated, or Janus the Joplin). “They practically shimmer with their bounty. The gods have graced us for tonight’s ceremony and celebration.”
Sister Cloris puckered her lips as if she’d sucked on a lemon too hard and too long, deepening the creases in her weathered face. That she was rumored to be only thirty-three gave me pause. Others I’d known her age still seemed to be blessed with the countenance of youth, even my mother who was in her fifties had appeared blessed with silky smooth skin, shiny hair, and perfect teeth. But Sister Cloris’s appearance wasn’t anything in comparison to her crotchety nature. “Come, let us commence with this farce.” She pushed past me, and I groaned internally. I would certainly have to keep my temper in check. This woman was grating on my last nerve.
Aurora came to my side. “Just smile and wave, child. You know the sister hasn’t quite been the same since she was forced to eat apples gathered from the White Woods. A warning to us all, as to what happens when we are led astray by vanity. Let us focus on the deed to be done. Let her have this, and you, my dear, focus on the ritual as your mother would have wanted. Your magic must be strong for the divination pool.”
I straightened my shoulders and held my head high, erasing any slump that may have existed. I would not dishonor my mother’s memory with their foolishness, and, instead bit the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming. Anger had the tendency of producing an honest magic—sort of like what happened during the dreadful cycle of Mother Nature, the one that visited once per month. That was surely not a blessing by the goddess, but a curse. At least it seemed so in my eyes. Dreadful indeed.
I watched as the witches grabbed a bundle of mugwort, tied it off for smudging, and moved into the temple. Sadie cast me a smile as if willing me to take hope. She was my light, my inner strength, and she had no idea. My small piece of sunshine.
Aurora took one last look at me. “It is good that you wear your mother’s sacred and ceremonial stones tonight, as they will help to channel that which you must see. But beware of what you search for in the pools. They cannot bring your mother back.”
“Nothing can.” I hung my head and clasped my fingers around my mother’s fox-shaped totem.
We moved into the temple. The massive mahogany doors in which runic glyphs were carved, stood ajar. We walked down the nave, the temple’s interior illuminated by the moonstones radiance. All the witches stood in their rows, along each wall to watch our procession, chanting:
“Gracious Goddess of Heaven and Light, come bring us your might.”
The room hummed in dissonance, like an ensemble tuning before the music played. Discord. The odoriferous air felt heavy, as if filled with humidity. For the second time today, I couldn’t breathe, but this was different.
Yet, I moved forward to the large pool of water, which would allow the elders an
d all present to see what the goddess granted.
The hairs on the back of my neck rose as if something invisible clawed at my back.
What would I see in those dark waters?
Finally standing at the front, I raised my blue glowing hands, and the witches took their seats.
“Tonight, we gather to choose the seven to descend to the village,” I began. I’d heard my mother give this speech and prayed to emulate her with its hope and candor. “It is their time of awakening, when a decision must be made. Our great goddess above visited the grove and commanded that the coven and those within its blessed halls be given the freedom to seek their souls’ desire when of age. Between that of eighteen years and twenty-two, a lottery is drawn from within the divination pool—”
“Let us pray.” Sister Cloris interrupted.
Although I wanted to cast a sharp glare in the elder’s direction, I continued on as if she hadn’t said a word. “Each sister of the House of Gossamer, please rise, and make your way forth,” I said. “You will retrieve a twig of yew from Sister Aurora, and thereafter, head to the divination pool and place it on its sacred waters. Should you be chosen to descend to the village, the waters will alight with the moon, the seal of the goddess.”
Twelve young women rose, those who I’d grown up with. And one by one, they followed my instructions, the pool giving the sign of the moon on six of the twelve as it had done since the coven’s inception.
“Are we missing someone?” I glanced between the sisters.
The elders began to murmur until, once again, Sister Cloris’s voice became the loudest of them all. “Isn’t it clear? Your blood taints us.”
“No, surely not. I am my mother’s daughter, and by her blood, chosen to lead this coven.” Just what was she insinuating? Tainted blood? How dare she?
“Perhaps you were not focused on the ceremony, dear,” Aurora said kindly. “Come, let us look at the waters and see what it is that may be blocking your magic.” She then passed me a bit of yew, but inside, I was seething.
Queens of Wings & Storms Page 2