Blood Moon

by KB Anne

  “Have I met your approval?” he asks.

  “Quite,” I tease, feeling more lighthearted than I have in days.

  He reaches out his hand. “Good. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gigi.”

  The palm of his hand reminds me of a soft, warm hug.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Amorin. Dad told us all about you.”

  Amorin was Dad’s mentor in Ireland. He lived with him while studying Druidry and the craft for many years until he fell in love with Calliope and moved to Vernal Falls. That’s when the complications began.

  Speaking of which, Scott walks in with Dad.

  “Well, I’ll be hog-tired and ticked ’til the cows come home,” Amorin says with a fake southern accent as he shifts his attention to Scott. “Mark, you didn’t mention we’re not just protecting a goddess, we’re protecting a god as well.”

  Dad steps backward. “Excuse me?”

  “The prophecy of course . . .

  One of love, one of light,

  Spring forth from the womb

  To guard from the night.

  * * *

  The power to heal. The power of youth.

  Their existence to all a living proof.

  * * *

  As immortality weighs,

  One shall fall, one shall rise,

  To perish from all humankind.”

  * * *

  “Amorin, I’m well aware of the prophecy. I’m just not sure what you mean.”

  “Mark, don’t you see? Both of your children are part of the prophecy. ‘One of light . . . The power to heal,’ refers to Oegden, Brigit’s brother. Your son has a powerful aura around him, but I suspect it’s invisible to you because of your relationship.”

  Dad gapes at Scott like he’s never set eyes on him before, while Scott and I stare wide-eyed at each other. His question to me is obvious. What the hell is going on?

  I shrug my shoulders in answer, thrilled the topic of discussion is not about me for a change. He winces at my smirk before turning his attention back to Dad and Amorin.

  Finally, Dad gasps, “I can’t believe I didn’t see it. Calliope always proclaimed she had a vision she’d give birth to a god, but no one believed her. We dismissed her vision so easily, while wholly embracing Lulu’s. Scott does embody Oegden—his love and affection, his charisma, his charms, his mischievous nature. I can’t believe I didn’t realize it sooner . . .”

  Scott squirms around in his chair, the undivided attention making him uncomfortable.

  Good. Now he knows how I feel.

  Abruptly, Dad declares with grim determination, “No one else can know this. If Clayone discovers he can destroy a goddess and a god, he will stop at nothing to do so. If he can destroy them, he very well might be able to take control of this world with no interference from the other gods.”

  “Okay, first, I don’t believe for one iota that I am the Goddess Brigit, but wouldn’t the other gods fight if two of their kind are threatened or killed?”

  “I wish it were that simple,” Dad says. “The gods are disgusted with our treatment of Earth and her creatures. My trips to the Otherworld have confirmed this. They might just let Clayone take control of Earth and remain forever in the Otherworld where they can stay fat and lazy,” he says with venom rivaling my own. I didn’t know he possessed such fire.

  “They wouldn’t protect their own kind?”

  Amorin rests a hand on Mark’s shoulder, instantly calming him. “Mark, would you mind if I explain it to the children?”

  “Be my guest. I need to go outside and prepare for the ceremony. Gigi, Scott, lock the door as soon as Amorin leaves, and do not open it for anyone. Do not leave the house for any reason. If the entrance or exit opens during the ceremony, the spells we cast tonight will be broken. Do you understand?”

  We nod our heads obediently. He hugs and kisses us before leaving.

  “Now, where was I . . . ?” Amorin says and then pauses to scratch his chin for an exorbitant amount of time.

  Scott and I glance at each other out of the corner of our eyes. We don’t want to be rude, but Amorin is really old. Maybe he’s forgotten we’re even here. I’m about to clear my throat when suddenly he begins his tale.

  “For several millennia, the gods have watched over and guided their creations with love and attention, but like a human, a god’s interest can wane from time to time. He might be tired of all his hard work going unnoticed. She might be offended that she’s no longer worshipped in the manner she used to be. He might enjoy lying around getting fat and lazy as your father suggested, or jealousy could play a role. Gods are notoriously envious of each other, especially if one is held in higher esteem by our world than another. Following the birth of Jesus Christ, a great influx of Christianity spread throughout Europe. Many pagan religions, including Druidry, changed dramatically.

  “Christian missionaries managed to extinguish many of the Celtic gods while absorbing others into their religion. There was no real method to the madness. Early on, it had to do with convenience . . . Certain areas of Ireland fervently believed in and followed Brigit, and so, the practical monks and bishops of the time turned Brigit into one of their saints, whereby ensuring Brigit’s power across the ages. On the same token, many other gods and goddesses were not honored or remembered. As a result, their power greatly diminished, and their jealousy grew.

  “If Brigit, one of the most powerful Celtic goddesses, is destroyed, her powers will be distributed among the remaining gods. What the gods don’t realize is that if Brigit’s life is taken, they will all become vulnerable. Clayone crossed into the Otherworld once before to try to kill her. She managed to expel him, but he has proven extremely resourceful and will try to find a way back in if the opportunity presents itself. He patiently waits for the chance to destroy Brigit while human.

  “During one of her earlier reincarnations, the first settlers of Ireland, the Tuatha De’ Danann, nearly destroyed one another as they fought over land and power. The day of Brigit’s birth, a flame rose to the heavens signaling to the world she had arrived. She hoped to inspire people to unite together and believe in her rather than kill one another. As her fame grew, peace spread throughout the land, but during a full moon on Samhain, a dark witch reopened a passage from the Otherworld releasing several Fomorians. The Tuatha De’ Danann joined her in an epic battle against Fomorians, werewolves, and dark witches, but they were greatly outnumbered. As the warriors lay wounded and dying across the land, Brigit used the last of her mortal magical power to create a lake to cure their injuries, and with her Vessel of Life she could bring the dead back to life. During her weakened state, Clayone seized the opportunity to try and kill her, but she managed to escape back into the Otherworld through a secret entrance moments before obliteration.”

  The possibility of bringing Lizzie back to life certainly sparks my interest. I straighten up in my chair. “The Vessel of Life . . . What is that?”

  “Brigit possessed a cauldron that she used to bring the dead back to life, but she could only use it in times of great need and mass extermination. When used singularly, the spirit splits in half, because nothing can be given that isn’t taken away. Returning to life comes with a great cost.”

  “Where would one find this Vessel of Life?”

  “That, my dear, is the great mystery. On the day of the battle Brigit presented herself with the Vessel, but there is no record of her bringing a single life back from dead—for there would be legends and tales heralding her as a savior of her people. The belief is that the Vessel of Life disappeared for all of time. No one knows what happened to it.”

  Just my freaking luck. The one thing that could bring Lizzie back from the dead, and it’s been missing for a few thousand years.

  Gigi, Lizzie is gone. Let her rest in peace.

  I will never find peace until I find the Vessel of Life. Lizzie lost her life because of me. The least I could do is give it back to her.

  “You might ask yourself, Why would Brigit ris
k destruction at each mortal reincarnation?”

  No, I actually wasn’t thinking that at all, but if Brigit did reincarnate, maybe I can ask her where she hid her Vessel of Life.

  “It is vital for her to feel the lifeblood of humans. Their emotions spill over into their every action and reaction. Nothing in the Otherworld rivals the emotions felt on this plane. While she doesn’t often give up her immortality, she does so in times of great need. Times when our world needs her more than the Otherworld.”

  Scott leans forward in his seat. “Amorin, you and Dad keep referring to the Otherworld. What is it? Is it a place anyone can visit?”

  “Scott, I’m glad you asked. A good habit I might add. Never be afraid to ask questions. Never be afraid to question the answers. Never take anything for granted,” he says, holding his hands together with his pointy fingers aimed at us. “The Otherworld is a paradise where souls go to find respite until they are ready to reincarnate back into this world. A place for gods and goddesses to live in pleasure and relaxation, as opposed to the Underworld, which is reserved for traitors, sorcerers, and evil beings. When a soul enters the Underworld, they do not come back. In the Otherworld, old age, sickness, and death do not exist. Happiness lasts forever, and time has no meaning, no beginning, no end. Unfortunately, it is also home to dangerous forces that thrive on power and destruction, such as the Fomorians who are unable to return back to this world unassisted but seek entrance nonetheless.

  “In the modern era, many of the entrances to the Otherworld have been destroyed. The remaining entryways are scattered throughout the world, generally forgotten. Ireland still has a few, but each portal possesses its own form of entrance. Often times a heavy mist falls upon a person seeking answers. The person soon finds himself in the Otherworld, a beautiful place, tempting him every step of his journey to remain there forever. The visitor must not stay long, or he forfeits his time in this world.

  “Most often followers conduct ceremonies like we will tonight and visit the Otherworld in spirit form. This evening we will communicate with some of the inhabitants and perhaps discover answers, but it is up to us to decipher the meaning.”

  His eyes twinkle with the memory of his many visits to the Otherworld, both in spirit and otherwise. I try to gauge exactly how old Amorin is, but like Gandalf, he is ageless, and I think maybe he will live forever.

  10

  Swan Love

  “Now, let me tell you about Oegden. The story of Oegden is one of the most romantic love stories you will ever hear. Oegden, like many young gods, roamed between the worlds, breaking hearts everywhere he went.”

  Scott, a well-known lady killer, gives me a smug grin. He feels justified that he’s never settled down with one girl.

  “One night, Oegden dreamt of a woman more beautiful than any he had ever laid eyes on—her intellect brilliant, her tongue sharp, and her will stubborn. When he woke in the morning, he knew he had to have her. He and his brother set out to search for her. They searched for one year but still could not find her. With each passing day Oegden’s love grew stronger, and he became more and more desperate. No other woman would satisfy him.

  “One day, rumors of an enchanted princess reached Oegden’s brother. He went to the lake where the princess allegedly lived, but the tribe’s people refused to talk. He stayed two nights trying to find news of the princess. On his third and final night, he stood at the water’s edge contemplating what he would tell his brother, what lie he could spin, when a lovely white swan swam to shore. Before his very eyes, the swan transformed into a breathtaking young woman. He knew he had found his brother’s mate.

  “For three weeks, he begged the woman to come with him and meet his brother, but she refused. Instead she requested Oegden come to her and live as a swan for seven years. If he remained true to her during that time, she would consider marrying him. The next day, the brother left to share the news with Oegden, doubtful his brother would concede to the princess’s proposal.

  “Without hesitation, without even seeing the princess in earthly form, Oegden changed into a swan and flew to the lake where his love lived. The princess was coy in nature and made Oegden search for her among the huge flocks that lived on the lake, but the search didn’t take long. The moment he laid eyes on her, he knew who she was. For seven years he courted her on the water, and they fell in love. They were often seen with their necks intertwined in an embrace creating what we now call a heart—the universal sign of love.”

  I glance over at Scott, pretending to gag, but his eyes are glazed over with a dreamy expression on his face.

  “Oegden was not absorbed into Christianity. Sadly, he’s rarely even discussed in Celtic mythology, but as the God of Youth and Love, he strives to remember what it’s like to fall in love when you’re young. Every young love reinforces his power. The passion and emotion of love is what entices him to reincarnate as a human from time to time.

  “He and Brigit are as devoted as I suspect you two are. If Clayone is truly as close to threatening Brigit’s reign as we presume he is, Oegden is here to protect her. According to the prophecy, the two of you can defeat Clayone if you work together. The problem is you only have a month to learn the spells and incantations that other followers have studied for decades and still haven’t perfected. And although we’ll lay heavy protections on this house tonight and on Samhain, we may not be able to keep Clayone out. If I’m being entirely forthright with you, the odds are presently not in our favor. But then, I’ve never been a gambling man.”

  He stands up and places his hands on our heads. “It is time for me to attend the bonfire. I bid you both farewell for now.”

  Scott locks the door behind him. Solemnness seeps into the room. Not that Amorin persuaded me that I am Brigit, but he absolutely convinced me Scott is Oegden. A constant source of strength and support for me, Scott possesses extraordinary gifts of love and understanding. I am absolutely dedicated to my purpose this evening—protecting Scott at all costs.

  He begins setting out candles at various locations around the perimeter of the oak table. I follow him clockwise as he casts a ceremonial circle by pointing his finger at the ground. From what Dad told us, the circle is meant to keep unexpected visitors from the Otherworld confined within the circle. He starts with an incantation Dad taught us.

  “From the ground to the sky, I cast this circle. I conjure a sacred place between our worlds. The circle is cast.”

  Turning to the east, Scott lights the yellow candle. “Spirit of the East, element of Air, I ask you guard us from sudden storms and protect us with gentle breezes.”

  Then he turns to the red candle representing the south. He lights it as he says, “Spirt of the South, element of Fire, I ask you guard us from raging fires and warm us with controlled flames.”

  From the south, he turns to the green candle. “Spirit of the West, element of Earth, I ask you guard us from disturbance by providing firm footing.”

  I peek over at him as he turns to light the final blue candle representing the north. From his expression, I know he believes every word.

  “Spirit of the North, element of Water, I ask you guard us from tidal waves and cradle us in calm waters as gentle as a mother’s arms.”

  I mouth the incantation with Scott, but I lack his sincerity. When the incantation is complete, he sits in silence, eyes closed, breathing deeply. From what I’ve heard, meditation can be a useful tool, but for me, it’s too abstract. I feel like I should be doing something—visiting Gram, researching legends to help Ryan, anything besides sitting here. I peek over at Scott. His face is completely relaxed as he whispers quietly to himself. Finally, his earnestness inspires me to make an attempt at meditation. As I focus on my breath, I try to clear my mind of random scattered thoughts. After a few moments of intense concentration, a tingling sensation develops in my fingertips and toes. My mind begins to drift off to another place. A lush green place. The richness of color makes me want to cry. It doesn’t seem possible that such beau
ty exists.

  A harsh ringing breaks the silence—ugly and disjointed in this wonderful place. Abruptly, my spirit violently pulls back and plops me into the hard wooden chair. Scott and I stare blankly at each other, unable to speak. Suddenly, the phone rings again. An overwhelming sense of foreboding consumes me as Scott reaches for it.

  “Hello?” he asks tentatively, trying to ground himself back into this world.

  As he listens, his face turns white. He drops the phone and takes one look at me before rushing outside to Dad.

  There’s no need to verbalize what I already know.

  Gram’s dead.

  11

  Shit Show

  Unable to move or think, I stare out the kitchen window. The moon looms large before me—beautiful and full. The wind picks up. Beating against the window. Ripping dry leaves off the trees. Blowing dark clouds in to hide the moon’s existence.

  The back door bursts open. Nails scratch across the floor like nails on a chalkboard. Heavy breathing fills the space.

  Before me stands a hideous creature. Half-man, half-wolf. Long mangy fur with sharp canines salivating in anticipation of its next meal, green eyes sadly familiar to me, and a mind intent on death.

  “Ryan,” I say in a low voice, conscious that the slightest movement might set him off.

  “I am here to avenge my master’s imprisonment and set all my kind free,” growls the creature.