Two Kinds Of Truth

by Lynette Creswell

  A delicious aroma sweeps along on the air and my stomach rumbles.

  “I’m starved. Shall we go grab something to eat?”

  “I thought you’d ne’er ask,” says Gordon, and he points to where a thin-faced man wearing thick black eyeliner is busy cooking curried lamb. As we approach, the meat sizzles loudly inside a ginormous frying pan. The aromatic smell of caramelised onions mixed with curry paste tantalises my taste buds. My mouth waters as the man offers me a plate of marinated lamb. Hungry, I devour the delicious curry within a matter of minutes, and as I’m wiping my mouth with a cheap serviette, I hear the tinkle of a bell.

  “It’s time to go and listen to the shaman,” I say, excitedly.

  “Not for us,” Rhona replies, throwing her empty paper plate into the nearest bin. “We’re off to join the Magik workshop. It’s all about the power of the mind.”

  “Enjoy,” I say, “and we’ll catch up with you both later.”

  “In ‘We’, does that mean I have to go, too,” Jamie groans.

  “Yes, if you don’t mind,” I say. “It’s fascinating how someone has access to, and influence in, the world of good and evil spirits.”

  I link his arm with mine and drag him to where a woman is shaking a pair of maracas and chanting. She sits, crossed-legged, on the ground, an older lady dressed in a black robe in attendance, who, as we approach, beckons us to join her. She greets us by offering us a small brown carrier bag, but I can’t help but stare at her: she has a distinct resemblance to Professor McGonagall from Harry Potter.

  “Inside the bag, you’ll find essential items needed for casting a circle,” she explains. “There’s no charge, but a donation to the local donkey sanctuary would be much appreciated.” I nod as she ushers us forward. I take a peek inside the bag to find there’s a carton of salt, four tealights, a stick of incense, and a small bottle of water. There’s also a clear, see-through bag filled with dirt and a piece of card on which is printed a ritual.

  I point to a vacant spot close to the shaman and we both go and sit beside her.

  “Good afternoon and welcome,” she says to those gathered around her, placing the musical instruments down by her feet. “I’m pleased to see you all here today, and I thought I would start the workshop by teaching you how to cast a circle. Now, before we begin, may I say that you don’t have to be in a group to create a circle, and in the future, you may wish to do this on your own.”

  Tiny pinpricks of excitement stab the back of my neck and I’m pleased there’s only eight of us in the entire group. The shaman gestures for us to rise.

  “The purpose of casting a circle is to create a barrier between you and the rest of the world. Inside the circle, you can raise your energies and protect yourself from negativity or any harmful entities.

  “Now I’m going to show everyone how to cast their own circle. You can do it in pairs if you wish, and I will attend each circle in turn and help you with your ritual.”

  “Shall we do our circle together?” I ask Jamie.

  “Aye, why not? That way anyone watching will think you’re the crazy person.”

  “What? You really think people don’t know you’re loony?”

  “Nah, they’ll just think I’m yir support worker.”

  I let out a chuckle. “But you are my support worker…of sorts.”

  “Then I guess you’d better get on with it before someone feels sorry for me and lets me escape.”

  I narrow my eyes. “It’s a good job I’m not a witch or I’d put an evil spell on you right now.”

  “Who say’s ye havenae done so already,” Jamie mutters, just loud enough for me to hear.

  I give him a sharp dig in the ribs.

  “Is everyone ready with their salt?” calls out the shaman, and I grab the carton from out of the carrier bag.

  “Excellent. Now draw a circle along the ground and make sure it’s big enough for you to be able to walk around without bumping into the other people in the group.”

  I let the salt spill onto the earth.

  The shaman watches me and nods. “That’s it, and once complete, I’d like you to place the tealights onto the circle, creating compass points of north, south, east, and west.”

  I pass the paper bag to Jamie and allow him to do the honours.

  The healer claps her hands. “That’s wonderful. I’ll come to each one of you in turn with a lighted candle, so we can light the incense. Once it’s lit, please push it firmly into the ground.”

  We follow the shaman’s instructions until we’re all ready for the actual casting of the circle.

  “Let’s all read the words off the card,” says our host.

  “May the guardians of this element guide and guard me as I welcome and honour their presence and power,” we all say together.

  The shaman shows the couple beside us the next steps and Jamie follows suit, offering me the bottle of water. I open it and then walk around the circle, flicking droplets into the air. I then tear open the plastic bag and sprinkle the dirt along the ground.

  “That’s it,” says the shaman. “Now, face one another and close your eyes. Use this moment to heal yourself with the river of forgiveness. Let go of any negativity and heartbreak which may cause you harm.”

  I take several deep breaths as I close my eyes and prepare to relax my mind, then I feel Jamie’s fingers brush against mine. I reach out to hold his hand, and when our fingers entwine, I feel a connection between us as the wind blows softly against my skin. I open my eyes and lift my chin to stare directly into his eyes, at which his mouth twitches and his grip tightens. A shiver creeps down my spine.

  “You’re shaking, Sassenach,” he whispers, and I nod, unable to let him go.

  “And now we must close the circle,” says the healer. I turn towards her, a little confused. It’s as though, for just a second, Jamie and I were the only two people on the entire planet, but we break away from one another and go on to complete the ritual.

  In the background, the musicians play on, their music wild and eerie, and before long, we say goodbye to the shaman and thank her for sharing her experiences with us.

  As dusk falls, a bonfire is lit the darkening sky becomes ablaze with orange and gold flames. Close by, the memorial stone shines like a glowing beacon as the light from those same flames flicker along its surface.

  Jamie murmurs in my ear, “Let’s make our way down to the water. It’s almost time for the new moon ritual to begin.”

  I follow him and spot Rhona and Gordon sitting on the grass, just a few feet away from the stone. We’re lucky to have found them, for the entire brae is filled with all walks of life. We hurry over and join them.

  Another druid walks by with a watering horn and I hold up my hand and give him a wave, and he comes and sits beside me. I take a long drink of sweet wine. It slides, smooth like honey, down my throat. When I take another, in seconds I feel lightheaded and giddy again.

  I hear music, panpipes, and they’re accompanied by a single drum, a Bodhran. It’s a haunting melody which catches my attention. I close my eyes and lose myself in its rhythm, until the music stops abruptly, and I snap my eyes open.

  The priestess appears from behind the stone, a thrum of excitement rippling through the crowd as she moves towards a makeshift altar. She’s wearing a light orange robe, a loose-fitting hood hiding her face, and in her hands she carries a silver bowl and a lighted candle, both of which she places onto the altar, side by side. Alongside her are five beautiful handmaidens, all in floating dresses and with flowers in their hair, each holding a flickering flame in one hand and something small, concealed, in the other. The beat of the drum begins again, and when it stops, the handmaidens blow out their flames and drop to the ground.

  Although the priestess takes off her hood, I can only see the back of her head, but it all looks rather theatrical, her hair as black as night and coiled, like silken thread, on top of her head. Somehow, though, I sense she must be beautiful.

  Jamie nudges
me and I turn to look at him. He presses something that feels brittle into the palm of my hand, and when I unfurl my fingers, there’s a bay leaf resting there. I smile; I really thought Rhona might have been kidding me.

  “Make yir wish,” Jamie whispers, and I glance over at Rhona who offers me a pen. I write my deepest desire in tiny letters on the surface of the leaf and close my hand, so no one else can catch sight of what I’ve written. There’s an odd sensation in the pit of my stomach, like a hundred butterflies flapping their wings, at which I let out a breath and clutch the bay leaf closer to my chest.

  The priestess’s voice cuts through the hanging silence, and I look up to see her face the crowd, her tone now as smooth as silk, the flickering light of the bonfire dancing shadows across her face, lending her an air of mystery. Yet somehow, her voice seems oddly familiar.

  “May my guides, angels, higher self, and good spirits assist me in this ritual,” she declares, before addressing each handmaiden in turn, standing before her in a line. The first bows and puts something into the priestess’s hand, at which the priestess turns back towards the altar.

  “May these coffee grounds ensure all minds are clear and receptive.”

  She turns back towards the second handmaiden and again, accepts a small offering.

  “What is she doing, exactly?” I whisper at Jamie.

  “She’s taking a specific herb or ingredient needed for the ritual from each one.”

  I watch closely as the priestess sprinkles each offering over the altar’s candleflame, and as she speaks, I absorb her every word.

  “Oregano: may you always find joy and energy in your life. Cloves: may wealth come easily to you. Fennel: may you allow healing and find strength. Poppy seeds: may you always be aware of that which is around you.” She grinds the last of the ingredients between her fingers and over the flame before turning back towards the crowd and raising her arms.

  “Please, everyone, come forward with your wishes.”

  Jamie pulls me to my feet. “Best get in line, lass, with the other hopefuls,” he says as his eyes dance with amusement.

  “You’re not taking this seriously,” I say.

  Jamie shakes his head. “Nah, I’m just waitin’ for my cake and ale.” He laughs and I feel a stab a disappointment. I don’t know why, but I want him to take this part of the ceremony to heart. I want his wish to come true as much as I do my own.

  Rhona grabs me. “Hurry up,” she says, “you don’t want to be at the back of the queue,” and she dashes over the grass, dragging me along with her. We’re laughing now, and I feel Jamie’s hand in the small of my back. I like it there; it makes me feel safe.

  A drum strikes out, quickly settling to its mesmeric beat. A piper joins in and yet another tune fills the air, and soon the awaiting crowd are singing the Skye Boat Song. I watch in awe as some of the young women dance in small groups. Their arms twist gracefully towards the heavens, their toes pointing towards the earth. They link arms then twirl around, their clothes floating like chiffon. I’m fascinated by the fluidity of their movements and find I can’t tear my eyes away.

  Rhona lets go of my hand and then I see her, standing in front of the priestess, to whom she lifts the bay leaf, and which the woman then takes and burns over the flame. She bows to Rhona and says: “With harm to none, may these wishes come to those who write them. To the power of three so may it be.”

  Rhona thanks the priestess, then walks away to where Gordon waits for her under a nearby tree.

  It’s my turn. I step forward and offer up my leaf, now staring into two beautiful dark eyes, ones that take me aback. I’d recognise those hazel eyes anywhere.

  “Bridget?”

  She smiles. “Hello, Maddie. What a wonderful surprise. I do hope you’ve recovered from your fall?”

  I’m stunned at seeing her again. “Oh, yes; totally, thanks,” I mumble.

  “Are you okay, only I can tell by your expression I’m not who you expected.”

  “Uh-huh, you got that right. I’d never have guessed in a thousand years you were a priestess.”

  Bridget laughs lightly. “Well, I don’t wear a sign around my neck if that’s what you mean?”

  I laugh back. “No, of course not, only I thought you were just a passing tourist.”

  “I am.”

  “Not quite.”

  “Perhaps not. However, let’s get together before I leave.”

  I nod. “I’d like that.”

  “Great; it’s settled. Meet me by the stone in roughly an hour’s time, and we’ll swap phone numbers.”

  “Great, it’s a date,” but then an irritated cough comes from someone standing in line behind me, and Bridget focuses her attention back onto my hand. “Do you have your wish for me?”

  Now that I realise Bridget is the priestess, I’m not keen for her to see my wish. I waiver, but she gently cups my hand in her own and my fingers automatically open. She lifts the bay leaf from my palm and reads the inscription. When she looks up, her eyes bore into mine for a moment before she gives me a knowing smile, the leaf soon burnt over the flame. It ignites in a second and Bridget drops it into the silver bowl, repeating the enchantment as she this time holds onto my hands. “Is this your husband?” she asks, and before I can reply, she reaches past me and plucks the bay leaf from Jamie’s fingers.

  “Hey, ye cannae do that,” says Jamie, but it’s too late, Bridget’s already read what was written there. She stares at him for the longest time.

  “Ah, so you’re not her husband,” she says thoughtfully, and turns and sets fire to the leaf. She stares at him then bows her head. “You have my blessing and the Gods will favour you,” she says. She bows once again, at which Jamie grabs my hand and pulls me away.

  “What on Earth’s the matter?” I ask, seeing how his brows are knitted together and his lips are puckered.

  “How do ye know that woman?” he says.

  “That’s Bridget: the lady who came to my rescue the day I slipped, here, on the brae.”

  “Ye ne’er actually told me ye needed rescuing.”

  “No, I didn’t. She was just there at the time. She said she was a writer.”

  “Aye, she writes books on paganism.”

  “Well, that explains a lot. But what’s wrong; you seem rather disgruntled?”

  “Aye, I am. She read my wish in front of ye. She shouldnae of done that.”

  “Don’t be silly. I don’t know what it said. And besides, you told me you didn’t take this kind of thing seriously.”

  Jamie shrugs. “Ne’er mind. ’Tis done now,” but just then, Rhona hurries over.

  “Come on, ye two, the next ritual is about to start,” she enthuses.

  “Oh, wait; I need to pee,” I say. “I’ll just nip to the loo and then I’ll catch you up.”

  Rhona nods and heads off in the opposite direction, but Jamie hesitates.

  “It’s okay,” I tell him. “You go ahead and I’ll meet you there.”

  “Ye sure?” he asks.

  “Yes, positive.”

  We part company and I hurry past a huddle of makeshift tents, behind which stands a row of Portaloos. I make a dash for one, but as I pass one of the tents, a hand shoots out and grabs my arm, jolting my head back as I’m stopped dead in my tracks. I yank my arm free, pulling my assailant out of the shadows, then catch my breath.

  “What the—”

  “Fancy finding you here.”

  “What do you want, Ally?”

  “Interesting question, and one I’m pleased you’ve asked.”

  I find I’m losing my patience. “Quit playing games. If you’ve something on your mind, best spit it out.”

  “My, you are a spirited one. I can see why Callum fell for you. You’re quite fiery.”

  “No. I just don’t have time to waste whilst you do your best to intimidate me. If you have something to say, then get on with it.”

  Ally heaves a sigh. “It’s not that simple.”

  “It never
is,” I snort. “But if it’s Callum you’re after, I’ll not give him up without a fight.”

  “I’d expect nothing less.”

  “Good, then why are you here?”

  “Because it’s time he came back to where he belongs, to where we both belong.”

  “He’s not yours to have. Not now, not ever.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. He’s always been mine. It was simply circumstances that tore us apart.”

  “So, now you’re going to try and win him back, even though we’re married?”

  “I don’t need to try. Once he learns about your affair with Jamie, he’ll come running back to me with open arms. Besides, I hear getting a divorce is easy these days.”

  “What a ludicrous thing to say. You must be grasping at straws if you think he’d ever believe I’m having an affair with his brother.”

  “I’ve seen the way you two are around each other. And I saw you earlier, casting a circle and staring into each other’s eyes like a couple of lovebirds. No, when Callum returns, he’s going to learn the truth about you two.”

  “That’s it; I’ve heard enough,” I hiss. “You can lie, but it won’t get you anywhere. Callum’s over you. In fact, he’s never mentioned you once in all the years we’ve been together—that’s how important you are to him.”

  She flinches and takes a step back. “Sticks and stone,” she says, but then there’s a rustle behind me and someone grabs my shoulder. I let out a scream.

  “Maddie, are ye all right, lass?” and I turn and stare into the face of Jamie.

  “What are you doing creeping up on people,” I cry out, relieved to see it isn’t one of what I imagined as Ally’s henchmen.

  “Sorry, it’s just ye were taking ages, so I came to see what was holdin’ ye up.”

  I turn to point in Ally’s direction, but she’s gone.

  “Ally was standing right there,” I tell him. “She told me she’s going to get Callum back.”

  “Och, that’ll ne’er happen,” Jamie insists. “He made his choice when he left, all those years ago.”

  “Clearly, she doesn’t seem to think so herself.”

  “That’s because she’s found out he’s visiting and because she still holds a torch for him.”