Goddess Rising

by Melissa Bowersock

  In the midst of high spring, the valley seemed to be bursting with life and energy. Food was so plentiful that already some could be put back for storage. All newcomers received not only the assurance that they would have a home, but bushels of food to fill their journey-thin stomachs. There seemed to be a joyful wind blowing that drew people out of their houses and into the orchards and meadows. Picking flowers and eating fruit fresh off the trees seemed much more important than anything else. It was a time of joy almost in spite of oneself.

  On a particularly bright and beautiful day, Greer had accompanied Hannah and the children out to the meadows where they had spent a blissful morning picking flowers and making circlets of them for each other’s hair. That done, one child said she wanted to show her mother and take her some flowers as well. Others chimed in, speaking for their own parents or special friends, and soon the whole group set off toward the residences, flowers brimming from their arms. Greer led the way, weaving together a small bouquet for Donnie.

  The area of residences grew every time she saw it; there was always a new home, a new family. She wandered down the street looking, her eyes touching on the faces of the people who trusted her, believed in her. Communing with them brought her joy.

  Then her eyes locked with a stare that stopped her more effectively than a wall.

  She halted in the middle of the street, hearing no sound, seeing nothing but those eyes. The children scampered behind her until they bumped into Hannah, who had stopped behind Greer. The street became quiet. The people standing expectantly before their homes moved back toward their own doorways in uncertainty.

  The man whose eyes met Greer’s did not back away. He stood as tall as his slight frame would allow. He was slender and fair, with brown hair and speaking green eyes. He looked younger than he was, yet wisdom shone in his eyes. From his place back among the houses, he moved forward toward Greer.

  Greer wondered later at the certainty she felt. The man’s soul had floated for her in his eyes and she saw it and recognized it. It spoke to her across lifetimes and her own answered. From the first moment, she was as bound to this man as she was to Hannah; to Balat; to the Goddess.

  He stood before her, calm but aflame. His eyes shone.

  “Lady,” he said, his voice soft for her alone, “I would serve you, if you would have me.”

  Greer heard as if it were an echo, as if she’d already known what words he would say. She nodded, feeling as if they’d already agreed, already gone together to the Sanctuary. Then her eyes flicked past him to the slender man who still stood back by the house, who watched in pain.

  “You would leave your lover?” she asked softly.

  There was a heartbeat’s hesitation; then he nodded. “I would, to serve you. This is what I have come for.”

  Greer studied him. He met her stare freely, unflinching. “What is your name?” she asked.

  “Khassis,” he said, and Greer heard her own mind add, This time.

  “Khassis,” she said, “I would welcome you into my home. We are bound, you and I. Say goodbye to your lover and come to the Sanctuary if you will.” She paused, feeling the energy that flowed between them. “We have much to say to each other, I think.”

  Khassis nodded, a similar certainty in his eyes. He bowed very slightly, silently excusing himself to do as she had bid him, and stepped back to clear her way. The other man, almost lost in the shadows, stood silent and watched.

  “I am no longer of a mind to this,” Greer said, turning to Hannah. “Would you take these flowers of mine to Donnie and Carol and tell them I will visit soon? I—I want to be alone for a bit.”

  “Of course,” Hannah said. She could not help but be curious about the strange exchange with the newcomer but knew better than to ask the questions that filled her eyes.

  Greer embraced her. “Thank you, Hannah. It seems a new path has opened before me. I have no idea what it holds—for you or for me.”

  Greer went alone to the fault and sat beside the spring, very much as she used to as a child. The water still ran as clear and as fresh as then; the sound was still as soothing. She stared into the small, smooth vortex that eddied beneath the fall and wondered who this man-soul was; who had he been? In the moving stillness of the pool, she watched shadows flicker and fade, and light flash. In the movement, she saw figures and her intuitive sense interpreted them. She saw herself in another body as sister to the man who would one day be Khassis; she saw them as lovers in the bodies of another lifetime. Their souls had danced for centuries on other planes, whirling together, spinning apart, choreographing the steps of life patterns. Their destinies were bound up together as by a silken scarf and regardless of how long they might live independently of each other, they would always be brought back together in the end.

  That evening, the air in the Sanctuary was thick with newness, with questions and tension as Khassis stowed his few belongings in the fourth sleeping room. The four females tried valiantly to perform their same duties in their same, familiar ways, but the change was too great. As Greer and Hannah set the table for the evening meal—five places now—Hannah found the pretense too aggravating.

  “This is a difficult change,” she said to Greer finally. “It’s hard not to think of how easy we were with each other before.”

  “You are right,” Greer said, her voice level and without apology. “Nothing in the Goddess’ creation is static; nothing stays the same.” She faced Hannah squarely and suddenly her eyes glowed like starfire and her voice dropped to a low, deep register.

  “You will leave me one day; begrudge me this company if you will, but never forget that we all come together and fly apart like dust motes in the wind. Every coming together has its parting, and every parting has its resolution. Your disfavor will not change that.”

  Hannah was stung by Greer’s harsh words, but not so much that she did not notice how Greer’s eyes filmed over momentarily and how she swayed slightly as if she might fall. Forgetting her own anxiety, Hannah ran to Greer and supported her down into a chair. Once seated, Greer shook her head and looked confused.

  “Did I faint?” she asked.

  “Almost,” Hannah said. She’d seen Greer as the oracle before, but never so abruptly or fleetingly as this. It was clear to her that Greer knew nothing of the words she had spoken. Hannah resolved to leave it that way.

  “What were we saying?” Greer asked.

  Hannah turned back to the table so Greer couldn’t read the lie in her eyes. “Just that all things change and we all must change with them.” Sadness for the prophecy that had been revealed threatened to close off her throat. She drew in a deep, steadying breath and turned back to Greer. “I’m sorry I was being so stubborn. I’ll get used to this change.” She paused, struggling to keep her emotions under control. “I’ve never meant to hurt you.”

  “Why, Hannah,” Greer said, surprised. “I know that. I know you would never do anything to hurt me. Why, you are my dearest friend, my sister in love. I’d never doubt you.”

  Perhaps you should, Hannah thought. The oracle’s prophecy curled like a dark serpent in her belly, its fangs hidden but gleaming. She wondered if she could possibly escape its bite.

  “Why don’t you rest for a moment?” she told Greer. “I’ll go help the girls and then we’ll eat.”

  What could easily have been a tense, anxious meal turned into a lark. Hannah, determined not to reveal the foreknowledge that pained her, was quiet but deliberately cheerful, and Khassis had a wit for humor that only required an audience to bring it out. In no time he was acting out stories of his journey to the Ruins that were darkly funny and the four women laughed and clapped and begged for more. He had a gift for mimicry and exaggeration that reached out to his listeners and pulled them along on side paths of joking insanity and scathing black humor. Before the meal was over, the girls were howling with laughter and Hannah and Greer both pleaded bellyaches from the strain of laughing too much. When no one could eat more, Hannah asked the girl
s to help her wash up and left Greer and Khassis to find each other.

  “You are a delightful comedian,” Greer told him, still smiling over his antics. “I dare say the Sanctuary will never be as solemn as it used to be. Thank you for bringing laughter to us.”

  Khassis flushed under the praise. “I wondered if my humor would be welcome here.” He looked around the Sanctuary, wide-eyed at the wonder of the place. “I wondered if the Goddess would take my jokes kindly.”

  Greer tipped her head at him. “The Goddess laughs, also. She is not all seriousness and duty as some think. You had no need to be afraid.”

  Khassis regarded her silently, his eyes alive with a life and experiences she would never know. “I think I always knew that,” he said. “I knew that where you are, I would be also.”

  Sobered by the spirit of intimacy that flowed between them, Greer leaned on the table and faced him directly. “Tell me about you. Who are you, where do you come from, why are you here? I would know everything about you.”

  Khassis smiled grimly. “Most of what you ask is of no concern. I think you already know that part of me that is most important.”

  “I think you are right,” Greer nodded. “Do you feel the pull of what we once were to each other? Brother and sister? Lovers?”

  “Priest and priestess?” he added with a smile.

  “Ah.” Greer heard the words and knew they were true. “We are bound, then.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “To what purpose, I do not know but, yes, we are bound.”

  For the space of a handful of heartbeats they regarded each other silently across the table. Each felt the surge and ebb of the things they once were and each wondered at this unseen purpose that stretched before them now.

  “Tell me,” Greer said finally, “about your lover. What is his name?”

  “Joel. We have been together for many years. He is as a brother as well as my lover; my friend. In years past he has been my father and my son.”

  “Does he accept this? Your coming here?”

  “He must,” Khassis shrugged. “As I must.”

  Greer studied him and saw the unseen in his eyes. “But?” she asked.

  He feigned ignorance. “But what?”

  Greer smiled, understanding. “But ... there is more there. Tell me. I would have no secrets between us.”

  Khassis hesitated a bare moment, then sighed. “Joel is ... ill. It comes and goes, strengthens and weakens, but never leaves him completely. I worry about him.”

  “We shall ask Hannah to see him. She is the greatest of healers.”

  Khassis might not have heard. The assurance did nothing to ease the worry in his face. “As you wish,” he said finally.

  Greer left it at that, but wondered.

  The two talked far into the night, their quiet voices echoing softly through the Sanctuary long after Hannah and the girls had gone to bed. They shared their experiences of learning, the hard lessons they had learned in less comfortable times, and their dreams and feelings for the future. Like Greer, Khassis shared a soaring hope for the New Order on earth and when he spoke of it, the hope shone in his eyes. Greer felt her own dreams fueled by his fervor and knew that was why they had come together, to combine their hearts into a single, striving engine of love. She felt strengthened by him, electrified. Where Hannah’s love was nurturing and accepting, Khassis’ love was a catalyst, thrusting her into a higher frequency of power. The three of them formed a spearhead of energy that could carry the Goddess’ essence to the hearts of the world. Together they would unleash the flowing force of the Goddess that no darkness could stop. It was a dizzying thought.

  The next morning, seemingly to Khassis’ embarrassment and amazement, Greer and Hannah accompanied him back to the home he had shared with Joel. Hannah talked privately with Joel in low voices while Greer and Khassis waited in the house’s common room. Through the open doorway they could see as Hannah touched gentle fingertips to Joel’s forehead, to his chest and throat and belly. They watched in tense silence as she motioned him to a prone position and she carefully laid her hands to all the powerful and vital places on his body. Although slender and pale, it was obvious that Joel concentrated fiercely on the healer’s acts and words, and his intensity finally alerted Greer to the quiet fear these two men shared.

  Cautiously, she turned and studied Khassis, who was too caught up in the interplay of the next room to notice. When he looked at Joel, his eyes glowed with a love that was transcendent and the fear he bore only fanned the flame of it. Unbidden, she felt a pain in her solar plexus, a pain of recognizing a greater love than she had ever witnessed, and a pain of recognizing the knowledge that it may be lost. Her heart ached for Khassis, for his love and his loss. With new understanding, she turned back to Joel, and now saw the fear that leaped to his eyes when Hannah laid hands upon his chest. She saw the healer press lightly, smile assurance to Joel, but the smile did not reach her eyes. Helpless, powerless, Greer saw it all and could only sit immobile as the realization crushed her heart.

  Finally Hannah came back to the common room and, smiling valiantly, told Khassis that Joel would speak to him alone. Hannah and Greer walked outside and stood in the doorway, each, it seemed, seeking the warmth of the brilliant vernal sun. Chafing away a chill, Greer turned to Hannah and waited.

  “I’m not sure what it is,” Hannah dodged. “It’s not anything I’ve ever seen before.”

  “He’s going to die, isn’t he?” Greer said.

  Startled, Hannah glanced at Greer’s eyes but the odd light of the oracle did not burn there. She sighed.

  “Yes. I believe so.”

  Greer turned away, shocked by the hot wave of tears that surged against the back of her eyes. She blinked them back and swallowed down hot anger. How could the Goddess bring such pain to this man she now loved? How could She set in motion this chain of anguish? Greer had only just found this man that, in this life, she would love like no other, and now that blissful, soaring love was wounded by disease. Silently, Greer railed against the Goddess. Silently, she cursed Her, the curses all the more frightening because even in her anger Greer loved Her. Silently she prayed to the Goddess to take her instead and leave Khassis his lover. Silently she knew that would not happen.

  A gentle touch on her shoulder brought Greer out of her prayers. Hannah nodded toward the house and Greer saw Khassis coming out toward them. She pushed aside all the pain she felt, knowing it was nothing compared to his, and schooled her features into quiet calm. She stood quiet and still before him, although her heart cried out, and waited.

  “If it pleases you,” he said respectfully to the Sibling, “I will come and spend part of every day here. I can’t ask that of anyone else, to see to him. I must do it myself.” He paused, his eyes glittering. “Do you mind?”

  “Yes, I do,” Greer said in her most commanding voice. Behind her, Hannah gasped. Khassis looked shocked.

  “Bring him to the Sanctuary,” Greer said more gently. “He shall have the best care we can all give him.”

  Khassis’ eyes pooled with tears and his face shone with the unexpected rush of love and gratitude he felt. “Lady,” he said, taking her hand and putting his lips to it, “you are the face and the heart of the Goddess. I thank you. Thank you!”

  “Dear Khassis,” she murmured. Smiling sadly, she laid her palm along his cheek. “If I have given you a moment of peace in your campaign against anguish, I am content.” She drew her hand gently along the side of his face, noting his eyes, the shape of his jaw, seeing the cauldron of emotions there, and said, “I love you as much as you love him.”

  The tears would not be checked. They streamed down his face, and his eyes were an open path to the unbound feelings in his heart; the soaring love and the crushing fear. Crying silently, swallowing back the sobs, he said, “And I you.”

  CHAPTER 27

  The summer was a comfortable one. The temperatures were not unbearably hot, the crops grew well and people seemed content. The six inh
abitants of the Sanctuary created and lived an intricate tapestry, weaving their patterns in and out and around each other, each contributing their own shimmering threads to the whole. Often while sitting quietly, thoughts of Jeh came to Greer, Jeh and his loom and his magical weavings, and she thought he would be appreciative of the design of their lives. They complimented each other and wove vibrant counterpoint, or harmonized in tone and intensity. The tapestry was rich and alive.

  Much of their patterns revolved around Joel, who needed them the most. On his good days, he and Khassis might roam the valley and take in the warming sunshine, leaving Greer and the others to do whatever they liked or whatever called to them. On Joel’s bad days—days his illness rose up and constricted him in its grip—Hannah would stay with him and ease his pain as she could, sometimes with Khassis hovering at her shoulder, sometimes alone for he would be too distraught or too pained at his lover’s anguish, and might seek out Greer or go walking alone. Often the six of them—two women, two men, two girls—would sit at table in the common room and tell stories back and forth, each recalling another, or share quiet times or commune in sadness. They all celebrated the days that Joel felt healthy and they all mourned the days he degenerated. It was as if the six of them shared a common heart and all felt the beat of it as one.

  It was as much an agony for Greer to watch Khassis as it was for Khassis to watch Joel. For the first time in her life, Greer felt truly touched by love, by death, by pain. Sometimes late at night she would look back on her life, to Balat, to Pat, and realize that none had touched her inner core as Khassis did. There was no reasoning to it, no explanation, no cause and effect. It simply was, as the air was, as the earth was. There were days, of course, when Joel was hale and Khassis was cheerful and his smile alone would light Greer’s heart like a starburst. On those days she felt alive and unbound and electrified, and the workings of the colony were a joy to her. On those days, she could hear out petitioners in patience and love, and arbitrate justly and see clearly the way of the Goddess. On those days the strength of her love set her free.