“Oh, we used to,” Bran said, swallowing a piece of apple. “Back a few hundred years ago, humans were always stumbling through the portals, passing through by chance along the old pathways connecting the worlds. But that was before the closing of the portals.” He must have seen the blank looks on their faces, because he cried out, “Oh, come on! Did you grow up in a tree stump? Five hundred years ago, when Queen Kiera was slighted by her human lover. In retaliation she closed all the portals between worlds in a huge show of magic. She didn’t want anyone else to be tormented like she had been.”
“Whoa,” Gwen said softly. Then she frowned. “But how does the queen nowadays get her humans for dancing and all that?”
“No one knows,” Bran said, shrugging. “Kiera made it so the only one who could get through was her half-human child. So the kid could visit his human relatives, I guess? Otherwise, the ways are sealed for everyone except a very few people who have figured out how to open the portals. The queen, King Landon of Silverwood, the family of Sheehan by the sea, but it’s a closely guarded secret. Humans don’t just stumble into our world anymore like they used to. They’re taken.”
They walked in silence for a brief minute. Gwen digested the new information. Bran was obviously not accustomed to quiet, because he broke the silence quickly.
“Apparently the humans used to be quite fun. Lots were poets and bards, so they always had good stories. Obviously many of our people took them as lovers, but the humans would react really strongly to our drinks, and it would leave them all dazed and crazy.” Gwen stole a glance at Aidan, who returned it with a raised eyebrow. “Sometimes we’d take them to a different portal, and tell them that a hundred years had passed in their world. The humans were great for pranking.” Bran sighed wistfully. “I live in the wrong age.” He looked up suddenly. “It’s almost sundown. We should be there really soon.”
Trying to get more information out of Bran, Gwen said, “Our parents didn’t tell us much about the ceremony. Why this mountain? How did the queen get control of it?”
Bran looked surprised.
“It’s not on her land. The sacred mountain is neutral ground. No one owns it. Everyone can go for the rites. We just passed through her lands on the way.”
As if on cue they turned a corner and saw the setting sun beyond thinning trees. The rays highlighted a dark mass of mountain rising up ahead of them. Most of the mountain was in shadow, but its silhouette was outlined in a fiery crown from the blazing sunset. The mountain seemed to Gwen to be more firmly placed, more intensely present, rooted more deeply than any other mountain she had yet encountered. It seemed larger than it was, with a dense presence that spoke of long history, eons of watching over this valley and forest, millennia of sunrises and sunsets, the flickering of lives winking into and out of existence as the mountain sat unchanged. A shiver tingled in her chest, just as it had at the barrow in the human world.
Gwen turned to Bran. He said happily, eyes ahead, “Welcome to the sacred mountain.”
***
“And we spin half a turn to your left, and then you step forward—there.” With a twist of blue skirts, the Breenan man twirled Ellie according to her instructions. They paused for a moment, Ellie’s brow wrinkled in concentration.
“Okay, now let’s turn once more, and then you can dip me.” Her partner nodded silently as he followed her words. Eyes watched impassively from the edges of the darkened chamber.
Ellie pulled away from her partner after their last move and turned to face the five Breenan watching them.
“Well? Are you satisfied with your new dance? Is it different enough for you?” She wiped her palms against shaking legs hidden by her skirts.
“A bit lack-luster, but certainly a novel combination.” A rather severe-looking Breenan woman with hair tightly wound around her head looked appraisingly at Ellie. “You gave us your best choreography last night. It was quite exciting. But tonight…” The woman raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if the queen will be as pleased.”
Ellie closed her eyes momentarily.
“I can’t go on like this. Dancing all day, choreographing for you most of the night. What little food I get in the morning, you’ve drugged to disorient me. How can you expect me to create anything of value?”
The woman gave a short laugh.
“We have not poisoned your meals. You simply cannot tolerate our food and drink, human, which is why we let the effects wear off before you teach us novel dances. And yes, we expect you to provide us with new choreography. That is your purpose here. You know what will happen if you do not comply.”
Ellie swallowed hard and looked away. Bitterly she said, “Fine. More dances, then.” She grabbed her partner and hissed at him, saying, “Follow me.” She proceeded to lead him in a fast salsa, close and hard. The watching Breenan leaned in, curious.
“That will do.” A resonant voice echoed through the chamber. Ellie immediately stopped and whipped her head around to look at the newcomer.
The queen paced across the room toward Ellie and her partner, her long dress whispering on the wooden floor. Her face was unmasked and wore an expression of calculating curiosity. She stopped an arm’s length away from Ellie, looking her over.
Ellie’s jaw dropped when she looked into the queen’s face. The queen looked back curiously.
“You look like you’ve seen a spirit. Or is it my overwhelming beauty?” Titters emerged from the other Breenan as the queen smiled indulgently. She grasped Ellie’s chin in her hand and tilted her head up, examining her.
“Has she been fed recently?” she asked the others.
“No, my lady,” one of the women replied. “She is quite alert.”
“Then why the open mouth?” The queen twisted Ellie’s head back and forth, then released her. “It’s not an attractive look, my dear. Please don’t make me fix it for you.”
Ellie snapped her mouth shut so hard her teeth clacked together audibly. Her partner laughed.
“Well?” The queen waited for Ellie’s answer.
“I—I thought I recognized you from somewhere. I’ve never seen you without a mask on. I must have been mistaken.” Ellie’s eyes darted from the queen’s face.
“Indeed.” The queen looked disinterested. “Well, do not let me detain you any longer. I’m sure you are eager to contribute your best work to beautify my ballroom.” She stroked Ellie’s cheek. Ellie tensed. “You will perform your best here tonight?”
“Yes, my lady,” Ellie murmured, her eyes downcast.
“Good girl.” The queen withdrew her hand and walked back to the doorway. She turned before leaving.
“I’ll make sure to receive a full report from the others later.” She smiled with all the confidence of absolute power, and left.
Ellie let her breath out. She turned to her partner and put her shaking hands into position. She said grimly, “Okay. Let’s do this.”
***
Panic threatened to take over Gwen’s control. They had walked all afternoon with no chance of escape, and now they faced some kind of Breenan ceremony during which they would almost certainly be exposed as human. Gwen glanced at Aidan and noticed his cheeks were paler than usual and his face creased in a frown. She thought wistfully of the days before they entered the barrow. She missed Aidan’s bright-eyed grin. As if he read her mind Aidan looked at Gwen and gave her a wry smile.
“You ready for this?”
“No,” she said honestly. They had slowed to let Bran move ahead. She whispered, “What do we do now?”
“We try to get back to the trees or we ride out the ceremony and wing it.” Aidan nodded at a dense cluster of trees at the edge of the forest. But before they had walked two steps toward it Bran turned and called back to them.
“Come on, hermits! The sun’s setting!”
Gwen bit her lip but there was nothing to be done. Bran waited for them, expectant face turned their way. They trudged toward him, Gwen forcing her expression out of its worried state.
“Just stick close to me, and we’ll try to stay on the edge of things,” Aidan said.
Bran clapped Aidan’s shoulder when they joined him.
“Come on, let’s get to the camp. One of the elders will give a speech, then the rites will begin.” He rubbed his hands together. “I’m more than ready for this.”
They followed the others across an open meadow that lay adjacent to the now brooding forest, grey grasses swaying in the shadow of the mountain. Their destination appeared to be a cluster of graceful willows, drooping on the banks of a small stream. As they drew nearer, light appeared from a fire burning on the river bank between swaying trees. Branches fell from the heights of each tree and spread out to form natural enclosures under shifting veils of leaves.
The fire popped and hissed in the darkening twilight, dancing flames bright in the gathering gloom. Most of the travelers were already gathered around the fire. Bran grabbed Gwen and Aidan’s arms and dragged them to the others. There was a hushed expectancy to the group and all eyes were fixed on Prince Crevan, a lone figure on the far side of the fire. His eyes were shadowed and his face impassive. He waited to speak until the last of the walkers had jostled into position across from him.
“You have travelled far,” the prince said, his quiet voice carrying clearly, punctuated by the crackling fire, “much farther than from your homes to the sacred mountain. You have travelled from childhood to be here, and it has been a long road. Tonight you will continue your life journeys, not as inconsequential children, but as full elders, with all the right and responsibilities therein.
“Tonight you will be transformed. And may the stones find you worthy.” The prince stepped back out of the firelight. A moment’s hush was followed by quiet murmuring. Gwen turned to Bran in a panic.
“What did he mean, ‘May the stones find you worthy?’ Is there some test we have to pass?”
Bran shrugged.
“Don’t worry so much, Gwen. Occasionally the stones don’t leave their usual mark, and leave the tribeless mark instead. It means there’s something wrong with them, or they were never going to properly grow up. We don’t talk much about the tribeless ones. If they escape, they make their way to the Forbidden Lands.”
“And if they don’t escape?” Gwen asked, dreading the answer.
“They’re a danger to us all, and must be stopped,” Bran said in what sounded like a memorized line. In his usual voice he said, “I don’t know if they’re just captured, or killed, or what.”
Gwen looked at Aidan in despair. So this was their fate. They would be marked as somehow ‘wrong,’ and be forced to flee for their lives. Gwen felt like walls were closing in on her from every side. Aidan looked sick, and he swallowed hard.
Bran said, “Stop worrying, you’ll be fine. Come on, Aidan, let’s get changed.” He put an arm around Aidan’s shoulders and steered him away. “You go that way, Gwen,” he called out over his shoulder, pointing behind her. “We’ll see you soon.”
Gwen opened her mouth to protest her separation from the only familiar person in this strange and dangerous world, but a solid hand clapped down on her shoulder. She turned and saw that the hand belonged to the grim-faced lady from the path. The lady jerked her head toward the girls filing through an opening in the branches of a willow nearby. Gwen turned one last time to look at Aidan. They exchanged a wide-eyed look of panic before Aidan was steered into a different tree. Gwen gritted her teeth and walked to the girls’ tree, the lady’s hand slipping off her shoulder as she went.
Inside the tree it was dim. The only illumination was firelight filtering through the long branches of the willow. The tree was crowded with girls. Gwen recognized the trio she had walked behind earlier that afternoon. An older woman passed out sacks and simple tunics, both cut out of the same coarse-woven brown cloth. Gwen accepted a bundle, and held out the tunic at arm’s length. It was a shapeless bag of a dress, knee length, with only a single sleeve. Gwen was puzzled, but tried not to show her confusion. She watched others sidelong to see what they did.
The other girls chattered as they unlaced each other’s dresses and slid out of stockings.
“Everything off, girls! You must be reborn with nothing of your own, just as you first arrived in this world.” The woman passing out tunics called out instructions over the babble. “Put your own clothing into the bags. Don’t worry, you’ll get it back after the ceremony.”
The other girls undressed easily and without any apparent regard for modesty. Gwen was glad of the dimness as it hid her own embarrassment. She tried to shimmy out of her dress as quickly as she could, carefully avoiding eye contact as she slipped the tunic over her head. She struggled with it as her elbow caught in a fold, and wriggled furiously until she was free. Only then did she look down and see her bra lying on top of her dress, distinctly unlike the undergarments of the other girls. She shoved it into her sack as a nearby girl watched with open curiosity.
The tunic fit better than Gwen had expected. The left shoulder was bare by design. Gwen presumed the tattoo would be drawn there, like the tattoo of the dancer at Loniel’s bonfire. She wondered how on Earth she would cover up the area when she and Aidan were exposed as frauds. She pulled at the hem of the tunic and crossed her arms, feeling exposed and uncomfortable without her bra. She tossed her sack against the tree trunk with the others and watched as more elders appeared through the branches, carrying shallow bowls of a dark, viscous liquid. Gwen didn’t have to wonder what it was for long, as the lady from the path started to speak.
“Before me stands a group of girls. Tonight, you will become women.” She waved imperiously at the elders next to her and they began to walk around, dipping two fingers in the liquid and drawing spirals and swirls on each girl’s cheeks and forehead. The lady continued, “This blood signifies your monthly blood, the first sign of your approaching womanhood. The blood represents the blood of childbirth, another journey you may take in your adult life. The blood also stands for the blood of death, of ones you love and of your own. As an adult you must face mortality. You will never escape it, so you must learn to embrace it.”
A woman approached Gwen with the bowl. The metallic scent of warm blood drifted to Gwen’s nose and her stomach turned. It was obviously fresh. The woman dipped her fingers and swirled the blood gently over Gwen’s cheeks. Gwen looked into the woman’s eyes, tawny as an owl’s, and was strangely mesmerized by the ritual touch and the intensity of the woman’s gaze. The woman lifted her fingers, nodded once, and moved on. Gwen blinked, feeling oddly bereft.
The last of the girls was blooded, and the lady said, “Into a circle holding hands, please.” Gwen’s hands were grabbed by her neighbors on either side, and she was comforted by the contact, strangers though they were. She looked around at the dim figures in the circle, rough tunics and painted faces looking like relics from another age. Part of Gwen protested at this ridiculous caveman ritual, half-expecting human sacrifice or worse. The other part was awed by this obviously ancient living tradition, sensing larger things happening than she could comprehend and feeling a kinship with these strange girls. She thought briefly of Ellie, who she knew would give anything to witness this.
“Eyes closed, and let your energies meld and flow around the circle. Feel the energy of your sisters. For you are now sisters, part of the great dance of life. Even if you never see each other again, you will always be together on your life’s journey, for we all travel the same road.” The lady paced around the tree trunk in the center of the circle. Gwen closed her eyes obediently, but her breathing quickened. Energies? What was she supposed to do? Gwen hoped keeping her eyes closed would be enough.
Then a great rush of energy poured through the hands she grasped. It took over her body so suddenly she gasped, and her chest and chin lifted involuntarily as the sensation filled her. Without thinking, she relaxed her mind and body and joined the river of energy flowing through her around the circle. She gave herself over to the sensation, not knowing or caring
if she stood there for seconds or hours.
Finally the great tide of energy ebbed and she pulled back into herself. She opened her eyes, seeing the other girls blinking and looking at each other with shy smiles of recognition. Gwen caught the eyes of a girl across the circle. She smiled at Gwen with such warmth and inclusiveness that Gwen instinctively returned the smile. The peace and serenity from the ritual lasted until the lady said, “It is time.”
Gwen remembered what was going to happen, and clutched her shoulder without thinking. Now she would be exposed as human, and all the feelings of kinship and goodwill that the other girls felt for her would evaporate into disdain or hatred once they knew, and she would be hunted down and punished for daring to enter their world. She felt sick and longed for Aidan’s comfortable presence.
The girls filed out of the tree and Gwen waited her turn. As she waited, she overheard the lady speaking to another woman in low tones.
“It just felt strange, don’t you agree?” The lady’s voice was puzzled.
“Perhaps we have a tribeless one this year.” The other woman seemed less concerned.
“No, it was different, but I don’t know what it means.” A pause, then, “Tell the guards to be on alert, just in case. We don’t want a tribeless one getting away.”
“Yes, my lady.” The woman moved off, leaving the lady frowning by the tree trunk.
Gwen followed her neighbor out of the tree, barely breathing through her terror. They could sense her, and now she and Aidan had no chance of escaping with guards in place. The calm from the circle evaporated in the heat of her agitation.
The boys had exited their own tree and Gwen was relieved to spot Aidan’s tall frame beside Bran, who looked positively beatific in anticipation. They were dressed in simple pants, roughly cut off at the knee and held up with coarse rope. Gwen’s cheeks flushed hot when she looked at Aidan’s bare chest and she turned away to compose herself, astonished that she could think of her attraction to Aidan in their present situation. She mentally shook herself.
Breenan Series Box Set Page 11