could still hear her – see her as if from far away – as she waved one hand discreetly behind her, beckoning him, the other shading her bright green eyes. The dapples of sunlight that littered the forest floor had found their way through the thick foliage and straight to her. She dropped her hand and shifted over a few feet.
She’d always hated the bright light, he remembered. She’d come to believe the sun goddess was out to make her life miserable. Dylan laughed in spite of himself as that day came to life before him.
Maere had glanced cautiously out of the corner of her eye at the rays, praying to the moon goddess for protection. “Please, Nimue, keep Bel at bay,” she pleaded quietly under her breath.
She again whispered impatiently to her friend. “Come h – e – e – e – r – r – r – r – e.”
Dylan carefully picked his way along the path Maere had made through the damp underbrush, his awkward feet stepping as lightly as they could over the fallen branches. “What is it?” he demanded, lowering his voice when she raised a finger to her lips. “I was practicing my recitations when you called. And if I don’t have my new verses memorized for tomorrow night’s Beltane feast, your father will have my hide.” He glanced behind him and smiled. “What little he’s left of it, that is.”
“Shhh! Keep your voice down!” Maere hissed. “Oh, please, Dylan. They’ll hear you!”
“Who’ll hear me?” he asked, dropping to his knees. He scooped up a handful of pebbles and looked around. “I see no one, Maere.” He let them sift slowly out of his hand and they formed a small pile on the ground.
She pointed directly in front of her friend. Tall willow trees, their thin yellow-green branches trailing low on the ground, surrounded a small clearing. Wildflowers of white and purple were just beginning to bloom and dotted a smaller circle in the middle of the trees. Maere rubbed her hands together, barely able to contain her excitement at the find. “ They will.”
Dylan leaned over, his cheek almost touching hers. “Move it, you.” He pushed her out of the way to get a better look. A blackbird jumped from one of the willows to a hawthorn growing nearby. It snatched a dark red berry then flew off. Dylan tugged impatiently at his brown tunic, then leaned back on his heels, hands on his knees. He gestured toward the spot. “You called me all the way over here to see a silly bird?”
“Of course not!” She pushed him back and looked at the clearing again. She studied the base of the trees and circle of flowers from where she sat. Finally, Maere stood and shook the green moss off her skirt. “Well, that’s just fine, it is.” She leaned over Dylan and pointed a finger in his face. “You scared ‘em, you foolish, noisy boy. No wonder they ran and hid. Why, I heard you comin’ myself when you were still half a mile away.” She snorted. “A fine priest you’ll make. How are you goin’ to cast secret ceremonies when everyone’ll know where you are just by the sound of your big silly feet?”
Dylan squared his shoulders and raised his chin. “I am not a boy. I’ve lived through almost fourteen winters.”
“Are too.” Maere stuck out her tongue and rolled her eyes. “A wee babe, you are. I’m surprised you’re not cryin’ for your Da.”
It was Dylan’s turn to stick out his tongue. He then crossed his arms over his chest, a burst of maturity overcoming him, and considered the girl coolly. “As usual, Maere, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He looked back at the clearing. “Just who, or what, have I scared off?”
Maere spun around and eyed him. In a fury, she rammed her shoulder into Dylan and shoved him backward as hard as she could. His gangly legs shot out from underneath him and he hit the ground with a yelp. He slowly pushed himself up on his haunches and rubbed his backside, groaning. “What’d you do that for?”
Maere stood over him, hands on
She’d always hated the bright light, he remembered. She’d come to believe the sun goddess was out to make her life miserable. Dylan laughed in spite of himself as that day came to life before him.
Maere had glanced cautiously out of the corner of her eye at the rays, praying to the moon goddess for protection. “Please, Nimue, keep Bel at bay,” she pleaded quietly under her breath.
She again whispered impatiently to her friend. “Come h – e – e – e – r – r – r – r – e.”
Dylan carefully picked his way along the path Maere had made through the damp underbrush, his awkward feet stepping as lightly as they could over the fallen branches. “What is it?” he demanded, lowering his voice when she raised a finger to her lips. “I was practicing my recitations when you called. And if I don’t have my new verses memorized for tomorrow night’s Beltane feast, your father will have my hide.” He glanced behind him and smiled. “What little he’s left of it, that is.”
“Shhh! Keep your voice down!” Maere hissed. “Oh, please, Dylan. They’ll hear you!”
“Who’ll hear me?” he asked, dropping to his knees. He scooped up a handful of pebbles and looked around. “I see no one, Maere.” He let them sift slowly out of his hand and they formed a small pile on the ground.
She pointed directly in front of her friend. Tall willow trees, their thin yellow-green branches trailing low on the ground, surrounded a small clearing. Wildflowers of white and purple were just beginning to bloom and dotted a smaller circle in the middle of the trees. Maere rubbed her hands together, barely able to contain her excitement at the find. “ They will.”
Dylan leaned over, his cheek almost touching hers. “Move it, you.” He pushed her out of the way to get a better look. A blackbird jumped from one of the willows to a hawthorn growing nearby. It snatched a dark red berry then flew off. Dylan tugged impatiently at his brown tunic, then leaned back on his heels, hands on his knees. He gestured toward the spot. “You called me all the way over here to see a silly bird?”
“Of course not!” She pushed him back and looked at the clearing again. She studied the base of the trees and circle of flowers from where she sat. Finally, Maere stood and shook the green moss off her skirt. “Well, that’s just fine, it is.” She leaned over Dylan and pointed a finger in his face. “You scared ‘em, you foolish, noisy boy. No wonder they ran and hid. Why, I heard you comin’ myself when you were still half a mile away.” She snorted. “A fine priest you’ll make. How are you goin’ to cast secret ceremonies when everyone’ll know where you are just by the sound of your big silly feet?”
Dylan squared his shoulders and raised his chin. “I am not a boy. I’ve lived through almost fourteen winters.”
“Are too.” Maere stuck out her tongue and rolled her eyes. “A wee babe, you are. I’m surprised you’re not cryin’ for your Da.”
It was Dylan’s turn to stick out his tongue. He then crossed his arms over his chest, a burst of maturity overcoming him, and considered the girl coolly. “As usual, Maere, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He looked back at the clearing. “Just who, or what, have I scared off?”
Maere spun around and eyed him. In a fury, she rammed her shoulder into Dylan and shoved him backward as hard as she could. His gangly legs shot out from underneath him and he hit the ground with a yelp. He slowly pushed himself up on his haunches and rubbed his backside, groaning. “What’d you do that for?”
Maere stood over him, hands on
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