and powerful. Anyone who knows your true name holds power over you. All of the other women here have been renamed except Ludmilla. Like you, Ludmilla has not had a renaming ceremony. I was named Epona because of my love of horses. As well, medicine, fertility, crops, language and divination all fall under my thumb.
“Uald is named for a Goddess who was a weaponsmith, a hunter, a forester. Druanne, as is obvious from her name, is Druid-taught. She is one of the last of the old kind. Aridmis is of the silver wheel; she reads the heavens. Bride, named for the cheerful spirit of the spring maid inside her, now belongs to the Crone. She has performed the Croning ceremony, an ancient ritual done by women who have ceased their menses. Taith, who we call Tully, you have not met. She is our scout. She travels from hidden coven to hidden coven, keeping a network amongst us alive. She won’t be back for several months,” Epona explained.
“And the ninth?”
Epona and I reached a spring that ran out of the side of one of the steep hills surrounding the grove. The water fell first onto a little rocky ledge and then into a large pool that was several feet deep. Coins and jewels lay on the ledge.
“Feel free to drink or bathe here, but give thanks to Anwyn, the lady of this spring, when you do.”
Bending down, I pulled a small silver band from my pinky and laid it under the water with the rest of the treasures. In my mind, I whispered a greeting to the Goddess and then took a drink. The water was cool and metallic tasting. It felt icy as it slid down my throat.
Epona drank as well, offering a whispered prayer under her breath.
A rustling came from the brush nearby, and much to my surprise, a woman with brown hair that stretched to her feet fell out of the bushes. Dressed in a mishmash of animal skins and woven cotton clothing, she looked wildly about her and appeared to be talking to the incorporeal air. Her hair was knotted and full of leaves and twigs. Her face, while beautiful, was very dirty. She stopped suddenly as if someone had addressed her and, turning her head quickly, she looked at Epona and me.
“Our ninth. I wanted you to meet her without the other women around,” Epona said quietly. “She is…different,” she added then, turned to the woman. “Come, Sid. Meet your new sister.”
The woman she called Sid rushed toward us. When she reached the spring she fell to her knees. Muttering, she took a quick drink from the spring then looked up at me, water dripping from her chin.
“Darkness has come. They saw you near the loch,” the woman said to me.
I raised an eyebrow at her. “At the loch? I saw no one at the loch.”
Sid laughed, her eyes glimmering. “The dragonflies…of course, they were not really dragonflies…it was their sharp eyes that spotted you when you came the first time with Mad Elaine. They were afraid you would fly down with your raven beak and snatch them up. And you picked snowdrops, which made them afraid.”
Puzzled, I didn’t know what to say.
She took advantage of my silence. “They’ve seen her flying,” she told Epona.
“To where?”
“Through the night. On the silver thread.”
“Yes, but to where did they see her go?”
“They will not say. They say,” Sid said, then paused and tilted her ear as if to listen, “that you will learn soon enough.”
Epona frowned.
“They will forgive you for taking up snowdrops if you will leave them cream tonight and come with me to the barrow at sunup,” Sid told me.
I looked to Epona.
She nodded. “Fine.”
“Ah, darkness, they hear your cries already. But you are an avenger, so what can you do?” Sid asked. She hopped from stone to stone across the small creek to me. She came close beside me and took my hand. She looked at me with sympathy. “I love them but they knot my hair,” she whispered in my ear. She stopped and looked suddenly at her shoulder. “Not you, love, the brownies.”
“Where have you been?”
“Uald is named for a Goddess who was a weaponsmith, a hunter, a forester. Druanne, as is obvious from her name, is Druid-taught. She is one of the last of the old kind. Aridmis is of the silver wheel; she reads the heavens. Bride, named for the cheerful spirit of the spring maid inside her, now belongs to the Crone. She has performed the Croning ceremony, an ancient ritual done by women who have ceased their menses. Taith, who we call Tully, you have not met. She is our scout. She travels from hidden coven to hidden coven, keeping a network amongst us alive. She won’t be back for several months,” Epona explained.
“And the ninth?”
Epona and I reached a spring that ran out of the side of one of the steep hills surrounding the grove. The water fell first onto a little rocky ledge and then into a large pool that was several feet deep. Coins and jewels lay on the ledge.
“Feel free to drink or bathe here, but give thanks to Anwyn, the lady of this spring, when you do.”
Bending down, I pulled a small silver band from my pinky and laid it under the water with the rest of the treasures. In my mind, I whispered a greeting to the Goddess and then took a drink. The water was cool and metallic tasting. It felt icy as it slid down my throat.
Epona drank as well, offering a whispered prayer under her breath.
A rustling came from the brush nearby, and much to my surprise, a woman with brown hair that stretched to her feet fell out of the bushes. Dressed in a mishmash of animal skins and woven cotton clothing, she looked wildly about her and appeared to be talking to the incorporeal air. Her hair was knotted and full of leaves and twigs. Her face, while beautiful, was very dirty. She stopped suddenly as if someone had addressed her and, turning her head quickly, she looked at Epona and me.
“Our ninth. I wanted you to meet her without the other women around,” Epona said quietly. “She is…different,” she added then, turned to the woman. “Come, Sid. Meet your new sister.”
The woman she called Sid rushed toward us. When she reached the spring she fell to her knees. Muttering, she took a quick drink from the spring then looked up at me, water dripping from her chin.
“Darkness has come. They saw you near the loch,” the woman said to me.
I raised an eyebrow at her. “At the loch? I saw no one at the loch.”
Sid laughed, her eyes glimmering. “The dragonflies…of course, they were not really dragonflies…it was their sharp eyes that spotted you when you came the first time with Mad Elaine. They were afraid you would fly down with your raven beak and snatch them up. And you picked snowdrops, which made them afraid.”
Puzzled, I didn’t know what to say.
She took advantage of my silence. “They’ve seen her flying,” she told Epona.
“To where?”
“Through the night. On the silver thread.”
“Yes, but to where did they see her go?”
“They will not say. They say,” Sid said, then paused and tilted her ear as if to listen, “that you will learn soon enough.”
Epona frowned.
“They will forgive you for taking up snowdrops if you will leave them cream tonight and come with me to the barrow at sunup,” Sid told me.
I looked to Epona.
She nodded. “Fine.”
“Ah, darkness, they hear your cries already. But you are an avenger, so what can you do?” Sid asked. She hopped from stone to stone across the small creek to me. She came close beside me and took my hand. She looked at me with sympathy. “I love them but they knot my hair,” she whispered in my ear. She stopped and looked suddenly at her shoulder. “Not you, love, the brownies.”
“Where have you been?”
Similar Books
