“Of course,” Herne said. “You’ll pass through it, but I know it’s important for you to rest easy on the subject.” He jumped off the bed. “So, tomorrow, you’ll spend in meditation. That gives us tonight together. Because the ritual will start at midnight tomorrow night, and will last for twenty-four hours.” He pulled a bell cord. “I’m going to order our dinner and then…I want to spend the night making love to you.”
Feeling like the condemned woman about to partake of her last supper, I nodded. In some ways, it would be much easier if we were going about things as normal—it wouldn’t leave me with such a feeling of foreboding. I knew that most of the anxiety was probably just in my mind, but it was affecting my nerves and my stomach and everything else.
“I’d rather go for a walk in the snow first and then eat in front of a fire with our friends. I hope you don’t mind. The making love part we’ll do alone, of course.” I laughed, feeling some relief from the stress.
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” he said as the servant girl entered. “Would you please tell Yutani, Talia, and Angel that we’ll meet them in the blue dining chamber in an hour?”
She curtseyed. “Of course, Lord Herne,” she said. “Will there be anything else?”
“Ask them to dress for dinner. Also, alert the cook that we’ll want dinner in an hour.”
“Very good, milord.” The girl turned to leave.
As she closed the door behind her, Herne crossed to the closet. “Come, let’s go for a walk and then we’ll dress for dinner. That’s one thing you’ll have to get used to when we’re in our palace. We always dress for dinner. You can set the standards at your own personal hold, as you like.”
Our palace, his palace, my palace…it felt like I was in some surreal movie. Now that things were moving faster, now that I was facing the ritual, shit was getting real.
As I shrugged into my jacket, I spied that my closet had gotten a boost. Not only were my clothes hanging there, but an entire new wardrobe as well. Including several fancy long gowns that looked straight out of a fantasy novel. Assuming that dressing for dinner meant formal, I picked one of the less ostentatious ones—a green gown with a fitted bodice and an A-line skirt—and laid it across the bed for when we returned. Herne pointed to a jewelry armoire. It was filled with jewels and gems, and I sorted through the bling until I found a simple beaded jade necklace that matched the dress, along with matching earrings. As I glanced in the mirror, I caught a glimpse of my future. Not sure whether I was excited, afraid, anxious, or a combination of all of them, I let out a long breath as we headed outside.
Chapter Sixteen
The next morning, I was hustled down to the same fitting chamber where we had been dressed for Viktor’s wedding. The seamstress had used my measurements to make my outfit for the Gadawnoin: a simple pair of trousers—dark blue—with an equally simple tunic the silvery-blue of deep water, and a silver belt. I was given a black leather sheath for my sword—Brighid’s Flame—and it attached to the belt. Then, the seamstress draped a black cloak around my shoulders and fastened it with a Celtic knotwork brooch also made out of silver. She stood back, nodding.
“It fits.”
“Is this it?” I asked.
She shook her head. “There is another outfit you will need, but I must blindfold you. You can’t see it yet.”
Feeling like I was in some kinky Cinderella film, I allowed her to blindfold me after I stripped out of the tunic and trousers. Though I couldn’t see, it was obvious that I was trying on a long gown. Fitted in the bodice, the silky material draped down to cling to my hips, then spread out near my knees. A mermaid gown, I thought. It had to be.
The seamstresses began to talk to each other, but they spoke in Elvish and I couldn’t understand what they were saying. After a few minutes of them pinning this part and that part, they removed the gown. But before they removed the blindfold, they made me try on a pair of shoes. They felt like ballet flats. After that, the blindfold came off and they had me try on a pair of boots that went with the tunic. Both pair of shoes fit and were comfortable.
“All right, you’re good to go. Return here at ten p.m. Not a second later,” the seamstress said, handing me back my own jeans and turtleneck.
I nodded, my stomach flipping. So the Gadawnoin had two changes of clothing. That was all I knew, except for what Morgana had told me about having to face my fears. As I left the sewing hall, I looked around, but there were hundreds of gowns here, and I had no clue which one of them—if any—had been the one I’d tried on.
Herne was waiting for me back in the bedroom. “You’ve been fitted for the ritual?”
I nodded. “Yes. What now?”
“Now, you spend the day in meditation and rest. My mother will take over.” He paused, trailing his fingers along my cheek. “I wish I could come with you. I wish I could be the one to guide you, but I’m not allowed. I love you, Ember. Remember that—hold the thought close to your heart. I hope it gives you strength.” He leaned down, pulling me into his arms, kissing me like there was no tomorrow.
I leaned against him, letting him hold me, asking myself again if I wanted to go through with the ritual. I loved Herne, but could I be content loving him as a mistress? But would that be fair to him? As long as I was mortal, his focus would be split. If we were in battle, he would worry about me, if I got sick, he would worry about me. It was something I was used to—worrying over others—but at some point, that worry would interfere with something important and he’d be forced to make a choice. But something beyond Herne felt like it was prompting me—something deeper, older.
“What are you thinking about?” he whispered.
“Why I’m doing this. I have the odd feeling that even if I hadn’t met you, somehow, this day would have arrived. I’m not arrogant enough to think that I’m one of the ‘chosen,’ if you know what I mean. I never expected to be chosen by the gods to become one of their own, but I’ve had a growing feeling over the past few months that this would have been inevitable. And I don’t know why.”
“That’s because there’s usually some hand of fate playing into this. There’s something you’re meant to do, that you can only do as a goddess. You’ll be a goddess of the forest and the Hunt as well as of the Fae.” He kissed me again. “I wouldn’t have asked you to marry me if I didn’t have the same feeling—that you needed to become one of the gods.”
“I want Angel to go through the Gadawnoin. We’re twin souls. Your mother helped us figure that out day before yesterday.” In all the flurry of preparations, I had forgotten to tell him. “We’re not sure when we first divided, but Morgana took us back to the first time we met.”
“That doesn’t surprise me either. If you’re earth and water, she must be fire and air. Twin souls will always carry two elements in their makeup.” He sighed as someone knocked on the door. “Then we must try to make sure she is allowed to go through the ritual. I’ll talk to her if you like.”
I nodded. “I don’t want to put undue pressure on her, but I don’t ever want to lose her. I guess I understand how you feel. Once I become a goddess, I’ll be terrified of losing my bestie. My other half, I guess you could say.” Another thought crept over me. “What about Mr. Rumblebutt?”
“Stop worrying,” he whispered, breaking off to answer the door.
Morgana strode in, sweeping past him. “It’s time for you to enter private meditation,” she said. “Come with me.”
I turned to Herne, desperate for one last kiss. “Will I see you again before the ritual?”
He shook his head. “Yes, my love.” He pulled me into his arms again, kissing me, holding me so tight that I could barely breathe. “Find what you need to find, my love,” he whispered, looking deep into my eyes. “Be strong, love of my life. My wife to be.”
I nodded, memorizing his face, the depth of his crystal blue eyes, the creases around his temples, the love that surrounded me when he held me. “I’ll do my best. I love you, Herne. I’m doing this fo
r us.”
“Do this for yourself, as well, love.” Reluctantly, he let go as Morgana tapped me on the arm. “Remember—I give you everything I have, every ounce of love that’s within me.”
I paused, turning to Morgana. “Let me hold Mr. Rumblebutt again, please.”
She nodded, standing back as I gathered him up in my arms, holding him close.
“Little guy, I’ll try to come back. I’ll try to make it through this.” I wanted to weep, but instead I buried my head in his fur and breathed in his dusty, comforting scent. He began to purr, and I rubbed my face against his side, praying that I’d return to Herne, to Mr. Rumblebutt, to all my friends. But I didn’t know who I was praying to, and I realized that very soon, if I made it through the Gadawnoin, I’d be the one people were praying to. With that sobering thought, I handed Mr. R. to Herne and followed Morgana out into the hallway.
* * *
Morgana led me into a chamber so cavernous that I felt like I was outdoors. I could even see the sky, but in here, there was no winter.
“Is this another realm?”
“Yes, actually, it is. You will stay in this clearing until I return for you. You are to meditate.” She motioned to the ring of open grass, surrounded on all sides by trees. In fact, I realized that I couldn’t see the door anymore.
“What on? What about?”
“Whatever comes to mind,” she said. Then, pausing, she took my hands in hers and a rush of power raced through me. “Listen to me. You have everything it takes to make it through this ritual. Your destiny leads to this moment. There are forces much bigger than even the gods, and they decide our paths for all of us. Perhaps reach out to contact the force that led you to this moment. You’ll know it if you sense it.” She pointed to a patch of ground cushioned with moss. “I suggest you rest there. I’ll return for you when it’s time to go through the ritual.”
I took a deep breath and walked over to the log near the open spot. There, draped across it, were my tunic and trousers, and sitting beside them, the boots and a pair of socks. My sword, Brighid’s Flame, was there, as well as Serafina, my crossbow, and a quiver of bolts. Frowning, I turned back to ask Morgana if I should change, but she had vanished.
Curious, I sat down on the log, contemplating what to do next. She had suggested resting on the patch of grass but my instincts urged me to change clothes first. Deciding to follow my gut, I stripped quickly out of the turtleneck and jeans and put on the tunic and trousers, fitting Brighid’s Flame into the leather sheath. I pulled on the socks and boots, setting the sandals I had been wearing to one side.
“Now what?” I asked aloud.
Meditate, the wind whispered.
“Okay, if you say so.” I lay down on the ground, my sword and bow near me, and folded up my jeans and turtleneck to provide a pillow.
The entire past week had been an exercise in coping with the unexpected. I fretted over the fact that our lives had been so unceremoniously interrupted.
But were they? The wind seemed to have a mind of its own today, and it seemed to be reading my mind.
“What do you mean?”
War is never convenient. What made you think that it would spare you the chaos that attends it? Do you think anybody’s ever fully prepared for war? Other than the soldiers, of course.
I thought about it. Soldiers, warriors—they were trained for battle. They were prepared for it. But civilians? Were they ever really ready? Were they ready for the sudden intrusion of bloodshed and fighting that spilled into their cities? Were they prepared for sneak attacks? For broken treaties and shattered promises? What war had ever politely enquired whether this was an opportune time for it to break out? To engulf the populace in its chaos?
“I guess you’re right. It feels like everything was so disrupted but…that’s what war does.”
Yes, that’s what war does—that’s what war is. War isn’t convenient, it doesn’t take holidays, it doesn’t acknowledge the disruption it causes. War is an entity that blusters in, kicks sand in the face of the weakling, and beats on the vulnerable. War’s a bully, war often fights for the love of fighting, and when it possesses a people, a nation, a country, it forces itself into every situation, every life. War leaves no one untouched when it visits.
I thought about how quickly things had deteriorated with the dragons. But whoever I was talking with had it right. There was never a good time for those conquered. And life didn’t work that way—it didn’t offer you a choice for the best time to deal with invaders. Plans went awry, plans changed. The Luminous Warriors hadn’t known about us finding Echidna, so when she rose to challenge Typhon, they abandoned their attempts to slide in undercover and they had launched an all-out assault. They were smart, flexible, deadly, and arrogant. And that combination made them dangerous enemies.
I tried to focus. We were safe from the dragons here in Annwn. At least I thought we were.
“Are we?” I said aloud.
Safety is an illusion, no matter where you are. The dragons can travel where they like now, except for Echidna and Typhon. But there are enemies out there that make the Luminous Warriors look like children.
“That’s not very reassuring,” I murmured.
I’m not here to reassure you.
“Who are you?”
That’s for you to figure out, if you want. Now, meditate.
I closed my eyes, letting myself drift. Whoever it was, whether it was simply the spirit of the wind or something else, I didn’t feel threatened. After a few minutes I relaxed and before I knew it, I was drifting into a haze that was either sleep or a deep, deep trance.
* * *
I was standing on a hill, staring out over a frozen wasteland. In the distance, mountains rose to blot out the sky and they were so tall that it was impossible to see their tops—they faded into the night sky. I shivered, glancing around.
No one else was there, not that I could see, and as I stared at the mountains, I realized that I needed to ascend to the top. I began to cross the white field that lay between me and the mountains, but the moment I set foot on the snow-covered plain, I heard the baying of dogs somewhere nearby. In my heart, I knew they were the Star Hounds of Arianrhod, and that they were onto my scent. I began to run, scrambling as my feet slid out from under me. The howls grew louder as I managed to get on my feet again. I slipped and slid my way across the field, all the while darting glances over my shoulder, straining to see if the Star Hounds were close behind. I let out a strangled scream for help, but there was no one to hear me, and I pushed myself on, struggling to keep ahead of the sounds of my pursuers.
Each time I seemed to be gaining a lead, the howling and snapping of great jaws would catch up and I was sure that they were on my heels, but I’d chance another glimpse over my shoulder only to see nothing in pursuit.
I raced as hard as I could, going down time after time to land on my ass, scrambling up again and setting off, until finally, I caught glimpse of the shore. I realized the white field was the frozen surface of a lake and I was almost to the other side. But when I reached the opposite shore and stumbled onto the rocky plain that led up into the foothills, I could see no path. There were hundreds of rocks scaling the slopes, covering the foothills like a blanket. An alluvial deposit, I thought.
As I hopped and skipped over the rocks, they shifted under my feet and I slowed down, worried that I could too easily turn an ankle. I came to a straggly pine and knelt beside it. As I looked around, I saw that I was near the top of the tree line. The altitude of this place must be incredibly high.
I climbed the slope, still trying to ignore the baying hounds behind me. Several times, my foot slipped on an icy patch and I pressed myself flat, holding on as I caught my breath. The gradient was so steep that all I could think about was falling.
When I reached the top, I pulled myself over and rolled onto my back, out of breath. Even if the Star Hounds were ten feet behind me, I couldn’t make myself stand up—not yet. I rested, listening to the h
owls and yips, but they sounded distant. After a moment, I rolled up and looked out over the valley below. It stretched as far as I could see, a rolling plain of white, until it met the forest wild on the other side. A green glow emanated from the forest—peridot green, the green of sunlight on leaves, of the shafts of light piercing the tangle of undergrowth. It was the light of life, not the dangerous green of purification and death.
Shivering—the wind was very much awake and active—I folded my knees to my chest, watching over the expanse below. I had no idea where I was going, but the urge to fade into the mountains loomed large. As I glanced up at the sky over the mountains, I saw the Silver Wheel of Arianrhod. This time I knew it was the core energy for her realm, though it also manifested here in Annwn.
After a few moments, I picked myself up, knowing only that I needed to keep going. I looked around for a path but there were none in sight.
“What now?”
What do you think you should do? came the answer.
“I think I need to reach the top of those mountains.”
Why?
I thought for a moment. Why did I feel the push to move on? What would happen if I turned and walked the other direction? Would the Star Hounds get me? Would I wander forever, never finding my goal? What was my goal? What did I think I might find at the top of the mountain?
“I don’t know,” I finally said. “It seems that I should follow the path because…”
Because why?
The voice wasn’t making this very easy. So I thought some more. I had never made the conscious decision this was the right direction—I had let instinct lead me on. But was it truly instinct? Or had fear goaded me into running? Fear of facing the Star Hounds, fear of facing…whatever I might face back in the forest.
Veil of Stars: A Wild Hunt Novel, Book 17 Page 16