by Sandy Wright
* * * * *
"Please stay," Rumor wheedled. I had run into her when I went to the bedroom to retrieve my purse, hoping to slip out unnoticed and head home. "It's the last ritual of the year, and we haven't exchanged gifts yet." Then she tried the logical approach. "You don't know the situation yet, Sam. It seems odd. Why did Nicholas suddenly show up with a woman he's shown no interest in before?"
"He had a chance to get to know her more at their intimate little dinner after the tree cutting," I reminded her.
We sat glumly on the bed for several minutes. Then Rumor took my hand and stood up, flipping her long hair over her shoulder. "If he's being a bastard, then skulking off from the party is accepting defeat and letting him win. And if he's not being a bastard," she added, "you've wasted a perfectly good party for nothing. Either way, you should stay."
We joined Duncan in the kitchen where he waited for Rumor. The wassail simmered on the stove and the mead bottles sat open on the counter, so most of the unattached males kept Duncan company there. He had imbibed heartily and was amiable to anything his date suggested.
With much laughter and stops beneath the mistletoe hanging in every doorway, we made our way into the living room for the gift exchange.
I noticed Nicholas watching our rowdy group, eyes narrowed, so I blew him a kiss. As I turned away, I saw him frown. I was standing in the doorway to the foyer, so I draped my arm across the shoulders of the male closest to me and pointed upward suggestively.
Nuin grinned broadly and pulled me into an exaggerated embrace, bending me backwards for a kiss. His breath smelled of mead and cigars and his kiss was brief and hard. He laughed at my spluttered protest and smacked me on the butt as I broke free.
I didn't dare risk a glance at Nicholas but I could feel his dark eyes boring into my back. Two can dance this jig, I thought with spite. Cause I don't trust you either.
Nuin had donned a Santa hat and to hand out packages to the many children recruited as elves. He gave a package to a little boy and they read the tag together. Then he scanned the crowd, pointed to the recipient, and the boy scampered away. Soon a dozen kids were chasing down people to give them presents. For the next ten minutes, the room was barely-controlled chaos.
A darling little girl in red tights smiled at me and dropped a package in my lap, sprinting back to Nuin to receive her next assignment.
I looked at the package, thin and long like a tie box and wrapped in plain brown paper tied with cord.
Inside was a feather smudge fan, wrapped in a blue bandana. The silky rust feathers were accented with speckled and tan pheasant down. The handle was wrapped leather, interwoven with dark green stone beads. I opened the card and read,
The feathers are a gift from a red-tailed hawk who visited my campsite this fall. When you use the fan, a symbol of wind, remember the song of the ancients.
~ Rod Standing Bear.
I scanned the crowd. Across the room, I saw the profile of Standing Bear's weathered face and long black braid, but I couldn't get his attention to mouth a thank you. I gathered my feet un-der me to stand, but before I could, another package dropped in my lap, delivered this time by Maya's ten-year-old son, Tristan.
"This one's really cool," he said, eyeing the package. "It's from the man over there." He pointed to the edge of the fireplace. "He had me bring it to you instead of putting it under the tree."
I followed the boy's pointing finger. Nicholas leaned against the mantle watching me. Alone. I gave him a tentative smile. He nodded but didn't return the smile.
The gift was wrapped in some kind of skin, soft as butter and the color of honey. I ran my hand over the hide, thinking the wrapping was a gift in itself. I carefully unwrapped the skin and put it aside, opening the plain box.
Inside lay a dagger with an ebony handle, nestled in folds of black silk. The six-inch blade, intricately etched, caught the reflections of the twinkling lights from the candles. I balanced the carved wooden handle in my palm. Runes, a pentagram, a raven, and the initial D were tooled around the handle. Powerful sensations traveled up my arm, filling my body with tingling energy. My first magickal tool. My own athame.
I rested my fingers on the carved handle and closed my eyes. Felt a subtle vibration rise from the carved initials. Respect. Love. I looked up at Nicholas, my eyes brimming with tears. "Thank you," I whispered.
He met my gaze. "You're welcome," he mouthed back. Then he motioned for me to open the card.
"May this bring you ever closer to the truth," I read in Nicholas' spiky script. "Bring the leather with you next lesson, and I will make a sheath for your blade.
~ Yours, Nicholas."
I should have risen then and gone to him. I had his gift with me because I'd been uneasy about leaving it under the tree lest it fall into the wrong hands. I should have gone to him then, handed him his gift, and stayed by his side for the rest of the evening. Told Lilith to find another way home.
But I didn't. My pride stopped me. Instead I turned my face away, not wanting to show him my tears and my naked longing. I turned away from him and walked back outside into the freezing night, to let those tears fall in solitude.
I stayed too long.
When I returned to the house, Nicholas still stood by the fireplace, but he had donned his long winter coat and gloves. And he was no longer alone. Lilith pressed her body so close to his she had to rest her forearms on his chest to give him the envelope she held out. She tilted her head up to him expectantly, a coy smile curving the edges of her lips.
He looked down at her for a long moment, saying nothing. Then he took the envelope from her hand and slipped it into his coat pocket.
She stood on tiptoe to reach him.
He stood perfectly still as she kissed him on the cheek. He did not kiss her back but slipped out of the room and headed for the front entryway.
I've misread the situation, I thought sadly. My heart, stabbed once again, ached from putting my worst fear into words. He's been using me. Stringing me along I felt only what I wanted to feel in the athame. He was being nice, nothing more. To both of us it appears. But for what purpose?
I sipped my wine, watching the crowd of happy people. No, happy couples.
Tilting my head back, I finished my nearly full wine glass in a gulp and went to find Rumor. I needed to be among friends.
* * * * *
Arm in arm, the three of us rambled through the backyard and down the woodland trail to the ritual circle.
I could see why Rumor said it Maya's small ranch was the perfect location for our Yule celebration. The house sat in the front side of five acres; the ritual circle was far into the woods, where the house lights were completely blocked.
The stone altar had been carved into the side of the mountain and set with white candles and contrasting red poinsettias. The trees surrounding the area were adorned with silver bells tinkling softly in the breeze. The circle had been cleared of snow and the pine needles on the ground made a soft, fragrant carpet for our feet. Maya had put lanterns around the area, and the dusting of snow covering the surrounding boulders and trees glowed softly in the decorative lights.
Nuin had chopped wood for a substantial bonfire just outside the circle and positioned logs and rocks nearby for seating. I sat between him and Rumor, holding my mittened hands out to the fire.
Nuin put his arm around me and pulled me closer to him. Instead of snuggling, I leaned forward, toward the campfire. Rumor leaned over with me, resting her shoulder against mine. "I think they left."
Feeling dejected, I shrugged, concentrating on the flames instead. So much for help from my so-called teacher. I would have to face my threat alone, depending on no one. To expect otherwise would only encourage the searing anger I felt grow into true animosity. I still had to conduct business with Nicholas; best to salvage a working relationship if I could. I leaned back into Nuin's waiting embrace and rested my head on his shoulder.
When Maya was
ready, we left our warm seats and circled round the altar.
"My friends, I am grateful to share with you on this night of endless cold and dark, the joyous swing of the pendulum to bring the wheel another turn," Maya began. "As the Mother labors, as the God returns to us, let us celebrate with light and warmth and love."
She lit a taper. Cupping the flame against the slight breeze, she touched it to the tinder surrounding the Yule log. Twigs and bark curled with flame, and orange tongues began to lick the bark. In a blink the log was aflame. The smoke carried the heady scent of orange, rosemary and bay, which had been sprinkled among the logs
"May this fire warm our hearts as it warms our bodies," she said. "It is as it was, and as it always shall be."
Duncan pulled a wooden flute from an inside pocket and began to play an old Scottish carol. As if drawn to the pied piper, a few birds appeared and landed in the nearby trees. A sparrow, two turtledoves, and a noisy mockingbird settled into place around us and added their voices to the melody. Around the circle people began to laugh and hum, pointing to the trees.
In the branches above, the mockingbird cocked its head, staring down at me with one eye.
Maya watched the avian chorus above us. "Lord and Lady!" she laughed. "Thank you for joining us this night. Take this love, this connectedness, back to your homes, your workplace, the classroom, wherever you go in the world. The magic of Mother Earth is with you always."
The circle opened with muffled applause. Farewells, merry meet, and other holiday wishes passed through the crowd as people drifted down the path to their cars.
I raised my face to the sky, feeling little flakes drift down and land on my cheeks. I wanted this calmness, this feeling of peace. How many days had it been since I'd felt peaceful? It seemed like forever.
"Are you sure you'll be okay going home by yourself?" Rumor asked.
She was anxious to have time alone with Duncan, I knew, so I shooed her off with a kiss. I was reluctant to leave, so I asked Maya and Nuin if they needed help with anything else.
"Help me," Nuin said. He added snow to the fire cauldron to douse and cool it. Then we each took hold of the heavy ring handle and carried it to his truck at the side of the clearing.
"Would you help me and take a load of stuff to my house?" Nuin asked as we put the cauldron in the back of his truck.
I looked at his full truck bed. He had all of the altar decorations and lanterns as well as the cauldron and the altar table.
There were still chairs to be loaded. I needed to act as if I knew nothing if I was going to get any information from him. Leaving with him alone was not ideal. But it was the best way to convince him I had no knowledge of his involvement. I hesitated, weighing the risk.
"I'll pay you in chocolate stingers," he wheedled.
"What are they?"
"Trust me, you'll like them."
"Sure, I'll help." Committed now, I blocked Nicholas from my mind. To make my plan work, I would simply forget he existed.
Chapter 45: Bad Tidings
Nicholas was quiet in the car on the way home. His thoughts were on Samantha and the wounded animal look in her eyes when he had walked into the party with Lilith. It would take a lot of work – and time – to heal that wound.
But her feelings are secondary, he reminded himself, as he had many times already. I have a job to do and it is my primary objective. Now and always. In addition to right or wrong, good or bad in the world, he always added useful and not useful. Tonight, being with Lilith would be more useful.
Time matters in magic. And I, unfortunately, am running out of it.
"Worrying about your little friend?" Lilith asked from the passenger seat. "She seemed awfully upset."
"Nothing escapes your keen observation."
"Then let me give you a bit of advice. Keep a careful eye on your new girlfriend. I believe she's up to no good," Lilith purred. "And with one of your favorite people."
Nicholas grasped the steering wheel, feeling the blood rage to his neck, causing a vein in the left side to throb. She had certainly stomped on a nerve. The same one she'd been irritating all week.
"She certainly seems to inflame Nuin's senses." Lilith wasn't going to give this up. "Maybe your innocent little lady isn't as naïve as she seems."
He gripped the steering wheel tighter, wishing it was Lilith's neck, wanting to shut her up, but needing to hear his fears voiced.
"Anyway, he seems quite taken with her, and his tastes run to the darker side of desire." She trailed her black fingernails through his hair. "Perhaps she's practicing…wants to appear worldly to you, hmm? He would be a good teacher."
Overcome by a furious urge to lash out at Lilith, to cause her the same pain she inflicted on him, he jerked the car to a stop and turned on her.
She jerked away from him, hitting the back of her head on the window hard enough to bring tears to her eyes, as well as something else – a perverse excitement. She turned her brimming eyes to his and leaned closer, licking her lips.
Nicholas felt bile rise in his throat, felt the anger dissolve. He put the car gently in gear and pulled back onto the road.
Lilith turned her face to the window and Nicholas gave her some time before beginning again. "I'm sorry Maya embarrassed you this evening, but our early departure was probably for the best." The best thing for Samantha at least, he thought. "You said you had news for me?"
"Nicholas, I don't think you should get mixed up in this."
"I'm sorry, Lilith," he said shortly. "I'm not asking your opinion, although your concern is touching. Just keep me informed." He patted his coat pocket. "Thank you for the address on your thoughtful holiday card. You say a special event is happening soon?"
Lilith nodded. "I'm sure Nuin will be leading this one."
"So he's the ring leader?" Nicholas asked.
She rubbed the back of her head gingerly. "I think so. When he does ritual he's weird though, almost like he's possessed."
"What do you mean?"
Lilith shook her head. "He does something to his eyes for the rituals. They glow. Red."
A fissure of fear tingled through his bloodstream. It appeared there was bigger prey in town than he had known. The bad news was he had left the one woman he cared about unprotected. All for some bloody information. For a damn job.
"I don't believe you." No one has been able to host a demonic entity and live through it. "I have to see this for myself. When is Mr. Freak putting on his next show?"
"December 24th, is the big one," she said. "The Black Mass."
Brilliant, Christmas Eve. "Find me a safe way in. I'll wait for you outside."
In the meantime, he had to get back to Samantha and make sure she was safe.
Chapter 46: Broken Rede
Nuin inserted the key in the ornately carved double doors and held one side open. The interior was dark, so I stopped in the foyer. He paused on the front stoop to look carefully up and down the street before stepping inside and closing the door behind him.
The lights of the houses perched on the mountain's side twinkled like fallen stars through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Nuin turned on one low lamp, and left me on his black leather couch enjoying the view, while he went into the kitchen to make our drinks. He pulled frosted glasses from the freezer, dipped their rims in cocoa powder and filled them with brandy and peppermint schnapps.
"Good tidings," he proposed, handing me a glass of the light amber liquid.
We stood side by side watching the lights of the city. "How did you get involved in witchcraft?" I asked. "Was it a family thing?"
Nuin stiffened beside me. "No. Unlike your boyfriend, I wasn't born into a noble family of witches."
I stared at the lights twinkling on the mountain outside. "He's not my boyfriend. He made the fact obvious tonight, don't you think?" He slanted me a dubious glance, but I continued. "Let's not talk about Nicholas. I'd rather get to know you." I turned
to him. "If you didn't learn from your family, who taught you magic?"
It was Nuin's turn to gaze out the window. "Different people here and there. I dabbled with a lot of groups before I became involved with Crescent Moon coven."
"Any I might be interested in?" I asked. His stare said I'd hit a nerve, perhaps too directly. "The thing is, most of the people in this coven know Nicholas. I'm not comfortable joining a group his family has run." I paused. Was he buying my reasoning? I couldn't tell. "Perhaps there is another group you're involved with here? One I could join?"
Nuin reached out and touched the crescent moon at my throat. I was suddenly aware of the weight of it around my neck, pulling the cord taut around my neck as if were made of heavy iron, not moonstone. I wanted to tear it off, be rid of its tethering weight. Instead, I raised my eyes to Nuin's and smiled.
He stared back, a slight smile returning as he studied me. "If you're serious about leaving this coven, I'm willing to search out another group for us." He emphasized us, and I knew the hook had been set.
Before I had half emptied my glass, he took it gently from my fingers and set it with his on the low coffee table.
"I received gifts from many people tonight," he said with a lazy smile, "but nothing from you."
I bit my lip. It had not occurred to me to buy a gift for Nuin.
He slowly raised his hand to my hair, pulling out the sprig of holly I had pinned in the side. He brushed a loose tendril from my temple, tucking it behind my ear. When he touched my cheek, my skin felt burning hot against the cool of his palm.
"Stay with me, Samantha. Your affection is the best gift you could give me."
The room spun as a wave of dizziness overtook me. I closed my eyes. Only half a drink. No, I didn't feel drunk. But whereas I'd felt like I was controlling our conversation earlier, now I felt strangely powerless. I had an overwhelming urge to negate all my previous work and tell him the truth: "No. I'm in love with someone else. Even if he doesn't love me." But Nuin kissed my neck, and I made no effort to stop him. I couldn't stop him. I felt like I was drowning, submerged below the surface of conscious movement, held underwater by the sheer weight of the white-hot necklace hanging around my neck.