Her words were serious, but there was love and a hint of mischief in her voice. “Tonight we will each light a candle to represent our new moon wish, but first we will meditate on exactly what it is that we plan to do or achieve this coming lunar cycle, what it is that will bring us happiness and joy.”
Beth’s head spun, and for a moment she panicked, scared that she would mess it up and embarrass herself. But she followed those around her, and by the time the gods and goddesses were farewelled, the circle had been closed and everyone was heading home, she could feel the possibility and potential of new love, life and hope igniting within her.
* * * * *
As she wandered slowly home along her street, hoping that her parents were already in bed, movement up ahead of her snapped her out of her daydreaming. A thick white blanket of mist had descended over the entire town, and she peered cautiously into it, trying to work out what had caught her eye and jolted her from her wishing. Was that a figure lurking under the street lamp up ahead?
She felt rather than heard laughter echoing around her, and it made her feel unsettled and extremely vulnerable. Was someone following her? Slowly she took another step forward, then another. Not sensing anything further, her mind and her muscles relaxed – so that she jumped even more when a pale presence in what looked like a long dark cloak loomed out of the fog and materialised right in front of her.
“Hello?” Beth whispered nervously, voice thin and ethereal as a wisp in the now eerily quiet night. “Um, are you okay?”
A small smile flickered across the woman’s face. “I am well beloved, thank you for asking,” she said graciously. “But it is you I have come to help.”
Beth stared at her, struggling to process what it was about the figure that was making her so uncomfortable, while also wondering what on earth her words meant. How did this stranger know anything about her? What did she want to help her with? Why would she make the effort? And calling her beloved? What did that mean? It sounded like something from an old-fashioned romance novel, or something very old. Was she a friend of Rose’s?
Confused, she tried to focus on the vision before her. The woman had long, fiery red hair and was wrapped in a dark blue robe, and she was standing there so still, smiling at her, seeming to hold the mists within her and around her like a cloak. Yet the more she focused, the more muddled she became. And while she’d heard the voice, she realised the figure’s lips hadn’t moved. Was this some kind of weird trick? Or was she hallucinating? Was the woman even real?
The laughter echoed around her again, and she tried to pinpoint the direction of the sound, but it swirled around her in the mist she was falling into. It stuck to her skin, and she felt it with every breath she took – a crisp, cool wetness in the air, and within her now, inhaled deeply into her lungs, and her very being. Should she be alarmed that she was breathing in the cold? That it was becoming part of her, its icy fingers spreading through her veins, through her heart?
And yet, she wasn’t scared. Somehow she felt comfort as the thick mist weaving around her became part of her, or she became part of it. Which way did it go? Was she gaining something new, or losing a part of herself to this fog? There was something soothing about giving up control, of letting the magical substance guide her hands, guide her feet.
“There is so much possibility within you darling Beth,” the woman finally said, gliding closer to her. “So much potential. You just need to see it, to believe it.”
For a moment her heart lifted and swelled with joy – until reality crashed back around her. “You don’t know me,” she grumbled, as the black mood that came from thinking about her mother descended on her again. “I’m not deserving of such worthiness.”
“Oh Beth, of course you are. Everyone is. And I know that you have had challenges, I know your upbringing has been difficult. You cannot lose what you have never had, yet I know that you were robbed of a proper maternal figure, and I do understand how hard that has been, and how unfair. But you are kind and empathetic despite that, no matter how harshly you judge yourself. And now you have found one anyway, a mother figure who will nurture you and care for you and inspire you to be far more than you can imagine,” she said, her voice a whisper, a smile, a promise.
Puzzled, Beth stared at her. Why did this woman speak to her in riddles? Was she even from this century? And what did she mean, that she’d met a mother figure? She was enjoying her new friendship with Mike and Violet, but they were her age, or a couple of years younger, so that made no sense.
The tinkling laughter echoed around her again.
“Rose, your priestess friend,” the blue-clad woman explained softly, although that made Beth more confused than ever. How and why would Violet’s amazing mother ever take her in? Take her on? She already had a much-loved daughter, not to mention a ritual room full of inspiring, kind, magical people who were already close to her, in awe of her, keen for her approval and her love. Why would she spend any more time on a not-altogether-content-with-her-life young woman without a shred of enchantment or skill, who was leaving town soon anyway?
Turning questioning eyes on the mist-wreathed figure, she shook her head, regret stabbing at her heart as she risked another fleeting moment of contemplation of how wonderful it would be to be Rose’s daughter, to live here, close to her – and close to Mike – to be surrounded by people who were caring and compassionate.
“Have faith Beth. You will be very important to Rose, and you’ll become very close to her. And despite what you think now, you will be most worthy of the relationship that bonds you together. I know you doubt yourself right now, and you doubt magic, but dare to take a leap of faith, I implore you,” the woman said gently.
“Tonight is the new moon, and you know what to do. Focus on what it is that you really desire, and feel that intention filling you, enveloping you, spilling out of you and off into the world. And believe that you are worthy of having it.”
Beth shook her head again. “That sounds so lovely, and I’d give anything for Rose to have been my mother, I promise you. But I’m not planning on staying here – I just came back for Jenny’s wedding, and then I’ll be gone again, back to my life in Paris. Which is a good thing, believe me,” she insisted.
“I try to be a good person, I really do, but being around my mother turns me into the worst version of myself, makes me feel petty and mean, and lower myself to her expectations just to spite her. Which I know makes absolutely no sense, and that I’m only hurting myself with such childishness, but I can’t help it. Spending time with her is definitely not good for my soul – or for the people I interact with afterwards.”
A blush stained her cheeks, and her hand flew to her mouth. She’d said too much, revealed too much, and whoever this woman was, she’d turn her back on her any second now and leave her in her misery.
At least, that’s how she’d thought it would pan out. But instead the mysterious woman surprised her by taking her hand and drawing her to the side of the path, under the street lamp, where her vivid green eyes sparkled and danced in the golden light, and her translucent white skin shone with an inner glow. It was almost enough to distract Beth from her embarrassment and her confusion. Almost. Her mind was unsettled again, but just before she drowned in her panic, a sense of peace and comfort washed over her.
Suspiciously she eyed the figure before her, sure that she must be doing something to her, manipulating her emotions and feelings, controlling her mind. Was that even possible? Who the hell was this woman?
“Beloved, calm your mind. How can you hope to think straight when you are so consumed with stress and paranoia? Breathe,” she instructed.
Beth tried to do as she said, but it was difficult. Being told to relax usually had the opposite effect on her, but she smiled gamely and continued trying to slow her breathing and focus on the present moment.
When the mist-wreathed woman was finally satisfied with her, she began to speak again, voice low and confident, despite her lips still not moving.<
br />
“You have a wonderful opportunity here to grow and learn and develop the magic that is within you, as well as to overcome the bitterness you feel about your family. There comes a point where you can no longer blame others for your unhappiness – you have to choose to leave all the bitterness and the blame behind, and take responsibility for your own happiness, your own actions, your own emotional health.”
For a moment Beth felt as though she’d been slapped, then that sweet, soothing sensation wrapped around her again, and she smiled. The woman – was she a woman though? – was right. Her parents were hopefully leaving the village soon, and she was a grown-up. She couldn’t ruin all these amazing opportunities with her anger. If she did, she’d regret it forever.
Glancing up to thank the woman, she was surprised to find herself alone on the dark street. She gazed around, confused. Had she just imagined it all? Was she hallucinating?
Before she could get too stressed, the mists cleared, and she realised she was almost home. Filled with new positivity and purpose, she strode up to the front door then tiptoed upstairs to her room, where she fell into bed and drifted off to sleep, illuminated by the golden glow of her new moon candle.
Chapter 13
The Rain In Her Heart
Rhiannon... Today…
It was an hour before dawn when Rhiannon finally gave up on sleep, after tossing and turning all night. As the tiniest hint of light crept between the gap in her curtains, she felt an overwhelming need to be outside. Out in nature, out in the wild of the storm she could feel in her bones. Pain ripped at her heart, and a restlessness shuddered through her body until she dragged herself out of bed. Quietly she dressed and slipped on her boots, then crept down the stairs and out the back door.
The air was wet and cold as it soaked into her skin, and the wind battered against her, trying to force her back home. But she pushed onwards, refusing to give in, until she reached the top of the sacred tor. Gazing out over the misty fields below her, she raised her arms, then turned her face to the sky.
The sweet scent of the approaching rain lifted her mood for a moment, and she smiled as she felt the sharp decrease in temperature right before the first drop fell. Each splash of water felt soothing as it landed on her eyelids, on her cheeks, on the tip of her nose. And she laughed as she sensed the power of the storm starting to build just as she allowed her own grief to swamp her.
It was like a switch flipping inside her, and as the brief moment of peace she’d felt within twisted into a whirlpool of anger, the gentle rain became a violent storm. Fury blinded her, echoed in the flashes of lightning that made her squeeze her eyes shut, before she finally turned her gaze back upwards and raged at the heavens.
“Why me?” she screamed at the gloomy, threatening sky. “Why my mother?”
Silence greeted her question, but she continued her railing. “It’s not fair! Mum was so young, and so loved, and so needed,” she cried. “And she was so good…” She trailed off, her voice cracking before it disappeared altogether.
Broken, she fell to her knees in the wet grass, the wild rain pummelling her body as her mind was flooded with the memory of an afternoon not long after Beth’s relapse, when they’d been at home together, just the two of them, cooking up a feast for a dinner party that night.
* * * * *
Beth had appeared so full of positivity that day. She’d been trying every alternative treatment she could find, and had convinced them all that she would beat this second bout of cancer as easily as she had the first. So when she laid down her knife and turned serious eyes on Rhiannon, her daughter was shocked to the core by her words.
“Darling, I won’t be here for much longer,” Beth said in a calm, matter-of-fact tone.
Denial slammed into Rhiannon at her words though, and she laughed them off. “Oh Mum, don’t be silly. You’re the strongest person I know. You’ll get better, I just know it,” she replied cheerfully. “You’re already halfway there.”
A shadow crossed her mother’s face, and for a moment she slumped against the bench in despair. But then she straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath, steeling herself.
“My darling, being positive is admirable, and I don’t ever want you to lose that quality, but unfortunately we have to face the facts. This is a battle that I’m not going to win.”
Rhiannon trembled, her face pale with fear and panic. “But –”
Her mum smiled at her, but it was a tired smile. “We have some time, but when that moment comes, I want you to be grateful for all that we’ve shared together, for all the time we have had. Not many families are blessed with the amount of love we feel for each other, and the closeness we’re so privileged to possess. We are so lucky.”
“How is this lucky, you talking of leaving us?” Rhiannon demanded, voice defiant.
“I know it’s hard to see it that way now, but there aren’t many mothers who are fortunate enough to have such a wonderful daughter, to have such a wonderful relationship. Some of my friends say their kids are embarrassed to be seen with them, but we’ve always been so close, and I appreciate that more than you will probably ever know.”
Something in Beth’s voice alerted her daughter to the truth of her words, and tears started to spill down her cheeks, chasing angry rivers along her reddening skin, while violent sobs racked her body. She tried to keep them in and push them down, tried to hide her fear and her grief, but it was all too much for her, and soon all that she’d been holding in was unleashed. Her face scrunched up, her shoulders shook, and she gasped desperately for breath.
“It’s not fair!” she shouted. “Why you? Why us? You’re too good, too loved, for this to happen to you. Why can’t it be someone else, someone no one cares about, someone who is mean and bitter, who’s wasting their life? You can’t be taken away, we need you! Brodie needs you, Dad needs you – and I need you,” she wailed, and threw herself into her mother’s arms, arms that shocked her with their fragility even as they clung to her.
How had she not noticed how frail her mum had become? When had it happened, this collapse into acceptance of her impending death? It seemed like only yesterday that her mum had been strong and healthy, the indomitable centre and spirit of their family, the warrior woman who supported her husband emotionally, who took on every challenge they faced, who worked full-time yet was still always there for her kids with their schooling and activities, and was a member of both the parents and the teachers committees – so busy, so bold, so alive.
Yet here she was now, in the blink of an eye, or so it seemed, suddenly so thin and so weak, so dependent on others. So frail and apparently close to death.
As Rhiannon felt her mum’s arms around her, she leaned in to her body to test its strength, and realised that Beth now weighed less than her teenage daughter. And as she peered more closely at her face, she saw a shadow of the pain she was in and wondered how she’d missed it. How had she been so selfish? Or had her mother worked incredibly hard to conceal it from her, from all of them? That thought made her devastatingly sad, as well as furiously mad.
“My god, stop being so bloody calm and accepting,” she shouted, face reddening with anger and frustration. “How can you be so mature about it all, so okay with what’s happening? Why aren’t you fighting this tooth and nail?” More tears threatened, but she brushed them away impatiently.
“Darling,” Beth began, voice a whisper.
“Don’t darling me,” Rhiannon snapped. “It’s not fair. How can this happen to us? Why me? Why you?” she repeated, voice breaking with pain.
Her mum put her knife down gently and took her daughter’s hands, guiding her around the kitchen bench to the barstools on the other side. Falling onto one of them, she gestured for Rhiannon to take a seat too.
“Listen to me my darling,” she said, squeezing her daughter’s hands with the little strength she still had. “I’m so sorry that you have to go through this, especially now, when you should be concentrating on boys and school a
nd having fun with your friends. More than anything in the world I wish I could spare you this pain, wish I could spare all of you,” she whispered, voice raw and naked with regret.
“And I know how helpless you all must feel, and that hurts me deeply, knowing the pain you and your dad are in because of me. I think in many ways it’s easier to be the person who is sick, rather than the loved one looking on, feeling so useless,” she continued.
“But there’s no point upsetting yourself with ‘what if’s and ‘why me’s. Of course I thought that too at first. Why me? But that just tips you over into a downward spiral of helplessness and victimhood, makes you blame everyone and everything else, and focus on the negative. It’s not productive or useful, especially when I need to be focusing on fighting to get well. Besides, the more I thought ‘Why me?’, the more I realised, ‘Why not me?’ What makes me more – or less – special than anyone else? Who would I wish to take my illness, my fate? Who deserves it more than I do?
“No one does,” she said firmly, before her daughter could interrupt. “Why me isn’t the question darling, it’s why not me.”
Rhiannon stared at her mother, impressed by her reasoning, but still unconvinced. She was sure there were plenty of people who deserved it more than her mother. Sighing, Beth reached up a hand and cupped her daughter’s cheek in her hand.
“Oh darling, one day you’ll understand this. Besides, in many ways I’m really glad that I have this forewarning. I imagine it would be devastating to die suddenly, to have not had any time to get my affairs in order, to say my goodbyes. No time to prepare myself, and all of you, for what is to come.
“I am determined to beat this, I promise you, but even if I don’t, I cherish this time with you, which is made more precious because it is finite. We’ve had so many special moments together because of this scare, because it has given every second we have more weight, and I don’t take a single bit of that time for granted.” Her voice was cracked with pain, but deep, and passionate.
Into the Storm: Into the Storm Trilogy Book One Page 14
