Goddess Rising

by Melissa Bowersock

  “It would not be my wish,” Greer said loudly over the muttering, “but if the Goddess so wills, yes, even that.”

  Another wave of whispering rippled through the crowd, unhappy whispering.

  “But if it is not the will of the Goddess,” Celedon came back, “we must do all in our power to stop it. We cannot sacrifice you to what might be, but might not.” He lowered his arms, and his voice, to a dramatic whisper. “We have to try.”

  “Yes! Yes!”

  “We have to try to protect you!”

  “We may not succeed, but we have to try!”

  “Yes!”

  The people pleaded with genuine fear, genuine concern, genuine love. Greer heard it, saw it, felt it. Finally, after a moment, she bowed to it.

  “Very well. But,” and she met Celedon’s eyes, “Reyes has been spending much of his time here anyway, talking with Hannah of healing methods. As one of your Marked Ones, can’t he also be our guardian?”

  Celedon’s eyes glittered but he smiled congenially. “But you said yourself, Lady, that he occupies himself with the Healer and healing. He may act also as her guardian if you wish, but it is you I am concerned with. No, my guard will watch over you, Lady, morning and night. Already I have posted one man outside this door and another to watch at your window.”

  “My window?” Greer said archly over the buzz of the crowd.

  “Yes, Lady,” Celedon was unapologetic. “It is large enough to admit a man. It must be watched.”

  “Perhaps,” Greer said, “but from a distance. I will not be spied upon.”

  Celedon raised spread fingers in humble acquiescence. “Of course not, Lady.”

  “Let me see where you have put your men. If I must surrender to being guarded, I will say how it is to be done.”

  Celedon grinned. “As you wish.”

  A way was made through the crowd and Greer, followed by Celedon, left the Sanctuary to see her guards. Behind them, the others followed curiously.

  One of the Marked Ones stood under the tree in the Sanctuary’s open yard. Greer vaguely recognized Esam, the dark-skinned man who had offered to learn the mason’s craft. He bowed low to her across the yard. Acknowledging the salutation with only a small flicker of her eyes, she marched on around the Sanctuary to the west side and found Cairo, the talented baker, on guard there. At least, she thought, Celedon had set the most amiable of his men as her guard. But Cairo’s post was too close.

  “Not there,” she told Celedon. “There.”

  She pointed up past the Sanctuary, past the high ground behind it, to the escarpment that mounded high and dark against the sky.

  “Lady,” Celedon said quickly, “that is too far away. If someone attacked you here, he would be too far off to help.”

  Greer shook her head, her eyes level and her stare firm. “It is the escarpment or nothing. Those are your choices.”

  Celedon seemed to waiver. This was not going as he’d planned but he was reluctant to argue with Greer in front of the crowd of onlookers. He had gotten several concessions from her. It would have to be enough.

  “As you wish, Lady,” he ceded respectfully. “It is only your welfare I am considering.”

  Greer doubted that. She looked past the posturing, would-be holy man to the people behind him: Hannah, Khassis, Jeh, Abel. What were their considerations? And the people behind them? She saw the uncertainty in their eyes, the hope and the fear. It made her tired. She knew that, no matter what precautions were taken, the Goddess’ will would be done. But if these people she loved felt better for the protective measures, so be it.

  “Now,” Greer said, turning back to the Sanctuary, “I think we all have tasks to see to.”

  The shock of the vandalism waned and after a few days it was discovered that Celedon’s quick action had, in fact, soothed most of the colony. Most, but not all. Three families had disappeared. There was a new ripple of unease at the realization that some people had, in fact, fled the valley but most now looked upon that as an overreaction. With their new awareness, the rest of the members of the colony adjusted to the incident and carried on.

  It was not quite so simple for Greer. Watched now, day and night, she felt caged. In reality she was free to go wherever she wished—to tour the residences, or to see Donnie; to sit near Joel’s tree with Khassis; to walk alone along the stream—but she went always with a man-shaped shadow at the edge of her awareness. Esam and Cairo tried to give her a respectful distance but some of the other Marked Ones were less sensitive to her need for privacy and crowded her, spoiling all she did. One in particular, Gorse, was an intense and almost fanatical young man whose eyes shone with an eerie light and for whom Greer had no fondness. Eventually she went to Celedon and asked that Gorse be set at guard only if no one else were available, and then only on the high escarpment watch. She would not suffer the man close to her.

  The specter of her guardianship had a strange effect; it drove her and Khassis even closer together, as if she looked to him for protection from her protectors. They spent long days together walking the fields or groves, or sat up late at night talking by candlelight.

  “I am already sick to death of this,” she told him one night, “and with the approach of winter, I see it only getting worse. With the shorter, colder days, I know I will feel completely closed in. I’m not sure that this is better than a quick assassination.”

  Khassis heard her sarcasm, and although he winced at it, he said nothing against it. He, too, had felt the oppression of the constant guard, the loss of spontaneity and joy. But he could not choose death over it.

  “Be calm, Khassis,” Greer said to the worried expression on his face. “I do not feel death hovering near me. I don’t think that is what the Goddess has in mind for me.”

  Somewhat heartened, Khassis asked, “Is that the oracle speaking?”

  She grinned. “No; just Greer. You will have to take my word for it.”

  The winter solstice approached and Greer and Khassis opened themselves to the dynamism of the event. Since Joel’s death, Khassis had become more and more Greer’s priest of the Goddess and stood with her now through all ceremonies. Together they walked the valley in search of any elements that might be drawn to the celebration, their silent guardian walking far behind.

  Just days before the solstice, Celedon appeared at the Sanctuary and asked for an audience. Rather than have him escorted into the private rooms as Greer did with good friends, she met him in the gathering room in her seat beneath the Goddess-stone. In keeping with the formality presented to him, he approached the chair respectfully and bowed.

  “Lady,” he said to her cold silence, “the solstice approaches and I fear for you.”

  “Fear for me?” Greer echoed, surprised. “Why?”

  He shook his head as if he might shake off the uneasiness. “The Sanctuary will be crowded with celebrants on that morning. If anyone wished to ... harm you, that would be a perfect opportunity. In the crowding and the high emotions, no one might notice a weapon. I feel that this could be a danger to you.”

  Greer frowned. “I feel no danger. I have no presentience of that at all.”

  “As you say,” Celedon accepted, “but your feeling of safety does not alter my feeling of concern. I would like to have all my men present, just in case.”

  Greer dismissed that. “There is no need.”

  “As you say. But, Lady, my men would wish to be a part of the solstice celebration regardless. Would you ban them from taking part?”

  “Ban them? No, they are welcome as everyone is.”

  “Then,” Celedon said innocently, “what would be the harm of having them ‘celebrate’ from strategic places? They will be here in any event. I would just feel better to have them close to you.”

  “Khassis will be close to me,” Greer said.

  Celedon’s eyes burned. “Pardon me, Lady, but I would be more relieved to have my ... stronger ... men about you. Khassis is ... very slight and vulnerable-seeming. He strikes
one as not particularly ... masculine.”

  “Keep your veiled insults,” Greer commanded angrily. “He is more man than you will ever be and he is all the man I need around me.”

  Anger flushed Celedon’s face. His Mark pulsed. Swallowing back the dangerous emotions, he waited a moment to speak.

  “As you say,” he replied with forced calmness. “Still, I will have my men about. They, too, wish to be part of this celebration and we are agreed that they will be welcome.”

  “They are.” Tight-lipped, seething with anger, Greer stood. Dismissal was obvious.

  “Lady,” Celedon said, bowing. “Good day to you.”

  As soon as Celedon left the Sanctuary, Greer charged back into the private apartments, livid with anger. That anger was lanced with a white-hot pain when she saw Khassis’ face.

  “You heard,” she said.

  Hannah, seated next to him, said, “We both did.”

  “That offal!” Greer spat. “That sneaking, manipulating, posturing—”

  “Man,” Khassis finished for her. The look in his eyes was painful for her. “Perhaps he is right,” he said sadly. “Perhaps it would be better for you to have a complete man—”

  “Stop!” Greer cried. “I won’t hear it!” She went to him and kneeled on the floor beside his chair and took his hand in hers. “You are the man I love, Khassis, the one man I want beside me. You are more man, more priest, and more Goddess-filled than Celedon could ever hope to be and I will hear no more of it differently.”

  Still unconvinced, Khassis gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. “So here we are, you the Sibling and I, your priest, an impotent God-worshipper in the house of the Goddess.”

  The gasp from Hannah was audible.

  “Fear not, Hannah,” Greer said. “The Goddess knows and accepts, as I do.” She turned back to Khassis. “Perhaps we are both a parody then, for here am I, the flesh of the Creatrix incarnate on earth and you will see no creation in my womb, no new life arise from me.” She looked from Khassis to Hannah and around at the Sanctuary. “Are we all the Goddess’ jokes? The two virgins and a man more woman than man, and we are the keepers of the Creative Force? Are we deceiving ourselves?”

  Khassis, horrified by Greer’s doubt of herself, was suddenly moved to defense. “No! You yourself said the Goddess is all things, even the Dark Face, even those things that seem the opposite of Her—like my God. If She is truly all, then your lifeless womb is as much Her as my God and my slight, unmuscular body. No, I do not believe it, not at all. And to hell with Celedon!”

  Watching him rant, Greer felt the blood of enthusiasm run in her veins again. She clapped her hands and laughed out loud with pure, high joy.

  “Then we are agreed?” she asked her two friends. “We, the flawed, imperfect humans that we are, are yet the keepers of the Goddess’ creative force? We are the light-bearers of the Creatrix?”

  Hannah and Khassis and Greer looked from one to the other, the light of liberation and spontaneity and love in their eyes. As one, they nodded to each other, and said, “We are!”

  Early in the pre-dawn of the solstice day, Greer watched through the window as Celedon’s Marked Ones ghosted through the gray like pale wraiths. One by one they arrived at the Sanctuary and took up places, innocent but for their darting eyes and keen awareness. The presence of some was like a goading finger in the envelope of her serenity and she knew without doubt that their presence had nothing to do with her safety. She went back into the private quarters and waited silently, emptily, for her time.

  When dawn was imminent and the people had gathered in the great room, spilling out the door and crowding in the open yard, Greer and Khassis took their places behind the Goddess-stone. Still vexed by the presence of the Marked Ones—and by Celedon, silent in a far corner—she closed her eyes and breathed deeply to calm herself and to allow the Goddess sense to go deep within her. Even with eyes closed, she could feel Khassis beside her, feel him attuned to her, as if he gently laid invisible hands on her. She breathed deep and took in the air, alive with smells and the cold of dawn and the pale colors of morning. She breathed it all in, and waited.

  Although no one in the gathered mass spoke, there were sounds nonetheless: small sounds, of feet shifting, of ragged breathing, of excited, anxious throat-clearing. Greer could hear it, feel it, sense it all without seeing. She could feel when the sun was close to cresting just by the increased vibration in the room around her. Tension mounted; the people shifted anxiously. Greer could almost feel their eyes as they darted to the east, then back to her.

  Sudden, choked sounds topped the small noises. Greer heard shuffling; strangled, aborted breaths; broken-off pieces of words. Khassis, beside her, was aware, watchful, calm. She stayed still, eyes closed. The muted chaos of the gathering settled into a disbelieving, reverent sigh.

  A star exploded in Greer’s body and the explosion sent shock waves of light and warmth and powerful peace through her. She opened her eyes and the sun touched the horizon and starred the day. The rays of sunlight shot into the Sanctuary, in through the window, into the Goddess-stone, and Greer’s eyes settled there as if drawn.

  Then she saw what she had only heard before. Then she saw the serpent that had coiled about the pedestal of the Goddess-stone and had undulated upward, body wrapped about the wood, head waving, tongue flicking, until it coiled about the length of the pedestal like a vortex, and its staring, lidless eyes gazed out at the assembled humans. It wrapped about the Goddess-stone as if it would make the rock its own, and flicked its tongue in ownership.

  The sun melted upward on the horizon, a quarter of it crowning the dark silhouette of low hills. The rays moved and shifted and intensified, setting fire to the interior of the Goddess-stone. The crystalline side of the stone blazed and burned and flickered with sunfire; the black face of lava shone with an unearthly gleam: dark and glittering, deep and bright.

  Then a crack sounded, like a single clap of thunder or the sharp blast of a tree limb bursting in a frozen wood. People jumped; some screamed but choked it back quickly. The serpent dropped off the pedestal like it had been burned and landed with a slap on the floor. People moved away in fear; it lay still a moment, then began to slither toward the window, from where it had come. Adeptly coiling up the rough wall, looping its slim, muscular body over the smallest texture, it gained the ledge of the window, drew itself up in the full glare of the risen sun and dropped off outside.

  A murmur cycled through the crowd; questioning whispers hissed back and forth. Then someone cried out in half a voice.

  “Look! The stone! The Goddess-stone has cracked!”

  And then everyone saw what Greer had already seen, that the crystal of the Goddess-stone was cracked from within, an explosion of sun-heat frozen in the clear stone, radiating outward in fissures and cracks, broken but whole, in pieces but yet still one.

  “The stone is broken!”

  “What does it mean?”

  “Goddess save us all!”

  From out of her half-trance, Greer stepped forward and in silence commanded the room. Eyes swiveled to her and caught; fearful voices drowned out and were still. The room quieted, filled with silence, pulsed with it. Greer looked out at the sea of faces.

  “The Goddess is with us now,” she said quietly. “She has not forsaken us. You yourselves witnessed that She sent us Her own symbol, Her own servant, the snake, which embraced the Goddess-stone. Some of you fear, but I ask you to have faith. The Goddess has not abandoned us.”

  An uneasy murmur rippled through the room. Finally one voice spoke out, “But the stone is broken! Why would She crack our stone and send the serpent away?”

  Mutters of agreement rose up. Greer silenced them with a sweep of her hand.

  “Look now upon the stone! What do you see there?”

  They looked. And stared. And shook their heads and whispered and pointed.

  The cracks were gone. The stone was whole again, clear, unbroken.

  “The God
dess speaks!” someone cried out.

  A woman sobbed with relief. Voices buzzed. People smiled.

  “Winter has begun,” Greer said solemnly. “Let us celebrate the Goddess’ seasons and then prepare.”

  That evening, after Megan and Cananea went to bed, Greer and Hannah and Khassis sat at table and talked in low voices.

  “Do you know what it all means?” Hannah asked Greer.

  Greer smiled grimly. “No. The oracle may know; I do not. The sign is clear; what it portends is not.”

  “But the cracks disappeared,” Khassis said, obviously in awe. “Isn’t that a miracle, a good sign?”

  Greer shook her head. “They did not disappear. As the sun rose, the light slanted differently and they became invisible. But they are still there.”

  Hannah and Khassis traded looks.

  “I don’t know what it means,” Greer answered their silence, “but whatever it is, it will reveal itself in time.”

  Greer was dreaming. She was inside the Goddess-stone, inside the shattered, frozen heart of it. Tiny as she was, the minute fissures that had looked like fine, silken hairs now appeared as gaping chasms and wide, offset ledges. She could run up the crystal ramps in her bare feet but at the top was always a clear, silvery wall that blocked her from going further. She pressed her palms flat against the cold opaque wall and felt herself trapped.

  She looked around. The collage of cracks flickered and shimmered like foxfire, a beautiful prison. Outside of the stone she could see nothing; the crystal walls blurred her vision so the outside world was only huge swaths of light and dark. No one could see her or hear her. She was alone.

  She beat on the walls. She screamed at the Goddess in the silence of dreams and cursed and cried. She ran down the ledge, through the shattered core, up along the fissure of another crack, beating, crying, praying, cursing.

  Then a movement not her own stilled her. She felt shaky. Had she really felt it, or was it just her own heart pounding? No, there it was again: a low, harsh jolt, a quick shift, at once gone but still resonating. She put hands to the walls around her. The stone vibrated with a silent ring. Then another jolt, harsher this time. It tossed her. She sank down on her knees and pressed against a wall. The whole stone rocked one way, tilting dangerously, then rocked back. The crystals all sang with an inaudible keening, a high whine that set Greer’s hair on end. The stone rocked again, rocked again, and began to fall.