Jewel of Inanna (Perils of a Pagan Priestess Book 1)

by Hannah Desmond

  Lilly sat on a stool and explained the note she had found from Roland and how she had missed telling him goodbye.

  “Do you believe Roland left thinking you were not truly interested in him. He thought you were enjoying a Mardi Gras fling?” Regina asked.

  Lilly shook her head slowly as tears filled her eyes, “I don’t know. While he was with me, I never thought our relationship was a Mardi Gras fling. I may have put too much meaning into it.”

  She opened her mouth to tell them about her dream of the crystal skull in the shop window, but a frisson up her spine warned her to keep the dream to herself.

  Lilly’s tingling fingers fidgeted with the Inanna crystal through the fabric of her shirt. Regina watched her for a moment, “Do you have a love talisman under your shirt?”

  Lilly shook her head, “No it’s a crystal.”

  “Oh, can I see it? I love crystals.” Lilly slowly pulled the golden chain from under her shirt and let the crystal dangle before Regina’s eyes.

  Regina’s eyes grew wide. “Amazing! May I touch it?”

  Lilly nodded seriously, “Yes, but be aware it is powerful and you could be incinerated immediately.” Regina stepped back as Lilly laughed. “I’m kidding. You may have a look at it, but I am not taking it off.”

  Regina cupped the multi-faceted crystal in her hand, turning it gently as the violet light moved within. “It is magnificent and ancient,” Regina said in a low voice filled with awe. Where did you get it?”

  “It was an initiation gift from Jolene,” Lilly said only partially lying.

  “Some gift!” Regina said. “I’ve heard something about a crystal with violet light,” Regina said slowly, staring at the crystal in her hand.

  Lilly gently lifted the crystal from Regina’s hand and placed it out of sight beneath her shirt.

  Smiling brightly Regina changed the subject, “Oh, Lilly, I’m glad you showed up. Would you like to make some extra money today? Claude has several readings scheduled and I would appreciate your help in the shop.” Lilly smiled and agreed to help.

  They passed the day chatting as they waited on a few customers, packaged orders to be mailed to distant customers and unpacked several boxes filled with statues of deities from Baal to Quan Yin.

  Claude bid his last client, ‘Goodbye,’ and locked the door to the store. Turing around he smiled at Lilly, “How was your day?”

  “Busy, and I know yours was too but, I’m, uh, maybe you could...”

  Claude tilted his head slightly and gave her a puzzled look, “What do you need, Lilly? I’m happy to help.”

  Lilly smiled shyly, “Do you think you could scry for Roland? Can you find out where he is?

  Claude rubbed his hand across his face, “I think so but I think it will take more preparation than merely looking in the crystal ball. Do you have anything of his I could use as a contact?”

  Lilly shook her head. “No, only the card he wrote me. Wait, yes, I do! He left a necklace he wore, a silver spiral on a leather cord. It is on my dresser.”

  Claude smiled, “Okay, sounds perfect. Bring his silver spiral and I’ll see what I can do.”

  Lilly ran to her apartment and put Roland’s silver spiral necklace around her neck and ran back to Raven Moon. As she entered, Lilly sensed tension in the air. She looked back and forth between Claude and Regina “What is it?”

  Regina sounded exasperated as she explained, “Nothing, I have an after hours client coming in for a reading. She made the appointment before Mardi Gras. I can’t cancel. I’m upset I won’t be able to participate in the scrying. I wish you could wait for me and do it later, but Claude says it is too important to put off for another minute.”

  There was a knock on the door and Regina admitted a nervous middle aged woman wearing a pants suit. Regina was leading her tarot client to the reading tent when Claude grabbed Lilly’s hand and lead her out of the shop. They made their way up a flight of stairs, but didn’t stop at the apartment. Instead, they entered another narrow stairway which lead to the magic temple in the attic of the old building.

  It took a moment for Lilly’s eyes to adjust to the shadowy attic. One end was lost in darkness, while the dim winter sun poured through the dormer window overlooking the street. The attic was long and the roof over head was high enough for Claude, at six feet, to easily stand and walk. Looking around, it was obvious he had already been upstairs and turned on a space heater. Two large pillows were placed beside a low altar, a crystal ball glowing in the center.

  Claude took her hand and guided her to a pillow. He stood and cast a magic circle, called in his protectors and assisting energies as well as Lilly’s. Returning to the center of the circle, he sat beside her and lit the candle. As he put his open palm on the altar, Lilly laid the silver spiral necklace in his hand. She watched as Claude took three deep breaths. She breathed along with him and felt the tingle of magic awaken in her fingers as Claude slid into trance. His voice was deep and low as he began:

  “Scrying orb before me rest, a vessel strong

  to manifest he that I would conjure here,

  by Baphomet come through clear.

  Roland now, arise, draw near.”

  Swirling smoke filled the crystal ball. Colors appeared, vague at first, but growing brighter. There! Lilly could see him dimly. It was Roland. His full beard had grown back since Mardi Gras and his dark hair hung over his shoulders. He was staring out of the crystal ball. Claude drew her near and said, “Speak to him.”

  “Roland, it’s Lilly. I miss you, I love you. Is there any way you can return to New Orleans?”

  Roland nodded his head. Before he could speak, the image faded. Lilly grabbed Claude’s arm, “Bring him back, I want to talk with him.”

  Claude lay back on his pillow. Sweat poured from his pale face, “Maybe later, Lilly. I can’t do it right now.”

  Lilly looked at him, her eyes wide. “Does this exhaust you?”

  Claude nodded. “Yes, it has been a long day for me and this was no parlor trick. True magick takes its toll.”

  “Thank you, thank you so much for doing this for me. Please let me compensate you,” she said as she reached for her purse.

  Claude put his hand on her arm. “Ah, Lilly, it is not your money I yearn for.”

  “Well, how can I thank you for helping me. This is so important.”

  Claude shook his head slowly. “I would like to think we are friends. Possibly we could be more than friends.”

  Putting her purse aside, Lilly nodded. “Claude, I am happy to call you friend. You are, without a doubt, a kind and powerful ally. But, surely you can see, my heart belongs to Roland.”

  Sitting up slowly, Claude took her hand and put it to his lips. He gently pulled her forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. Lilly pulled back as the door opened and Regina came in full of questions.

  Lilly stood and filled Regina in on the scrying. “I think we made contact. I saw him and I think he saw me and hopefully heard me. I guess I will have to wait and see if he calls or shows up.”

  Claude nodded wearily, “If not, we will have to try again.”

  Regina entered the circle without a thought and put her hand on Claude’s shoulder, “You have exhausted yourself. We could all use a glass of wine. Come on, let’s go back to the living room where it’s warmer.”

  Claude released the four quarters, thanked the guides, guardians and ancestors and opened the circle. He turned and wearily led the way down the stairway.

  Chapter 34

  Contact and Confusion

  Four days later, a postcard of a bright white beach and turquoise water arrived for Lilly. Turning over the card she read, “My dear Lilly, I sit on a beach in Florida missing you. I believe my leaving was a mistake. Your music and beautiful face have filled my vision. I have my obligations to fulfill with the band. I’m looking for replacement so I will be free to return to New Orleans. Love, Roland”

  Lilly laughed
and cried simultaneously. Her loneliness disappeared momentarily along with her doubts. The lock on her heart fell open and she was flooded with memories of his touch, his scent, his soul.

  ‘I want to tell Claude the scrying was a success,’ she thought as she grabbed her jacket and headed for Raven Moon.

  The bell jangled and Lilly heard Regina’s voice coming from the back room. “I’ll be with you in a second.”

  “Hey, Regina, it’s me, Lilly, take your time.” Lilly busied herself reading the titles of books on the shelf near the check out counter. Regina appeared taking off an apron. “Hi, Lilly, I’m trying to get the backroom cleaned out. We have more books coming in soon. I want to make sure we can move things around, store what we must and display the new books.” Lilly nodded only half listening.

  I’ve got some news,” she announced. “Where is Claude? I want him to hear this too.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry Lil, he is in New York. A collection of rare magic books is going up on auction and he left this morning. It would be wonderful if we could buy a few for the store at a decent price. Antique magic books are something we want to specialize in. But, I digress, what’s the big news?”

  Lilly reached inside her pocket, removed the post card and handed it to Regina.

  Regina read the card quickly, “It sounds like he is going to be returning,” she said smiling.

  “Yes, I know he is going to come back. I don’t know when,” Lilly said.

  “Oh, Lilly, I’m glad for you. I’m glad you showed up with good news.”

  Lilly stood grinning and nodding her head as Regina continued, “Could you help me out again today. With Claude gone, I need some help if I am going to get the back room organized and keep the shop opened.” Lilly agreed, glad to have something to do with the nervous energy coursing through her body.

  The two young witches passed the morning chatting as they worked. Regina had a hundred questions for Lilly about her life, her magickal training and abilities. Lilly answered innocently, giving Regina an inside view of her life. She told her about her father’s death, her Aunt Pearl, her abusive husband and the power awakening within her as she studied and participated in rituals at Panthea’s. She avoided mentioning her slow adjustment to the Jewel of Inanna. Regina had seen it, but she didn’t know the extent of its power.

  Regina locked the front door a few minutes after noon and the two young witches went upstairs for lunch. They made pineapple and cottage cheese salads, poured themselves glasses of tea and settled on the couch. Lilly had taken a few bites of her salad when Regina placed a pipe and a couple of buds of Acapulco gold on the coffee table. They leaned back, put their feet up on and shared a bowl.

  “I don’t know much about you Regina. Are you from New York?”

  Regina sat back in her chair and sipped her ice tea, “No, I’m from California, the Santa Cruz area. I was in New York shopping when I walked into The Spell Casters Emporium and met Claude. We talked for a bit, I invited him to join me for a drink when he got off work. A few hours later we were sitting in a bar in the East Village. A few weeks later we were moving to New Orleans to open the Raven Moon.”

  Lilly smiled at Regina, “Such a magickal story!”

  Regina nodded her head, “Indeed, it seemed magickal at the time. Now it seems like a lot of work. I’m loving it, don’t get me wrong. Adjusting to New Orleans, the climate, the people, the food, is a lot to get used to.”

  “Has your life always been so magickal. What was it like growing up in California?”

  Regina leaned forward, tapped the ashes from the pipe’s bowl and refilled it with the second bud. She lit the pipe, took a long toke, leaned back, closed her eyes and began to speak.

  “My childhood was not as happy as your early years with your dad and your Aunt. My parents traveled constantly. I was left at home with a series of nannies; some kind, some bitter, some cruel. My parents came home for my 13th birthday and decided I no longer needed a nannie. I needed to go to boarding school.”

  “I was packed up, put on a plane, and enrolled in Saint Mary’s Catholic boarding school in Ireland.”

  “The only male allowed to enter the school was Monsignor Scotty. The nuns, especially Mother Superior, cowered in his presence. He was the high hot-in-tot and demanded we agree and submit to his constant demands and attend his long winded Catholic rituals. It was months before I discovered the uniformed girls, meekly approaching the altar for communion at daily mass, secretly chafed under his domination.”

  “On the night of the full moon girls from every level at St. Mary’s climbed through windows, shimmied down drain pipes and clung to tree branches before dropping silently onto leaf covered ground. I saw them leave but had no idea where they were going. My first impulse was to follow, but something inside told me to wait for an invitation.”

  “At the beginning of the second semester, I received an invitation to join the mysterious full moon exodus. Following the group, I arrived in a grove of ancient oaks next to the graveyard filled with the moldering bones of long dead nuns. I stripped off my night clothes, along with the others, linked hands in a circle and began to dance.

  Circe, a senior from Athens, led us through the full moon rituals and, occasionally, placed the sacrament of sacred mushrooms on our tongues. The light of the full moon shone through the boughs of the ancient oaks, as we touched our hidden and forbidden power. It was towards the end of my first year at St. Mary’s that Circe approached me and asked if I was a member of the ancient Valraven family.”

  “My name is Valraven, but I have no idea if my family is ancient,” I replied. “I have no grandparents, aunts, uncles or cousins. The family I am aware of consists of my mysterious and mostly absent parents. For all I know, they could be aliens traveling the galaxies.”

  Circe nodded, leaned towards me and whispered, “Let’s get together tonight after lights out. I have some interesting information for you.”

  Hecate ruled the moon that night. I lay in pitch black darkness waiting for Circe. She came silently through the door, put her hand on my shoulder and pointed to the window with easy access to the extended roof of the floor below us.

  We settled down on the tiled roof and leaned our backs against the brick wall of the dormitory building. We sat quietly admiring the cascading starlight in the dark velvet sky.

  Circe lit a cigarette and began, “Before I get caught up in studying for finals, I want to see how much you know about your bloodline. From what you said today, I’m guessing it is nothing. I’m not surprised. I will tell you what I know and you can follow up on the information if you want to.”

  “I sat dumb-founded. ‘How could this Greek girl know anything about my family?’

  ‘Your ancestors on your father’s side of the family, the Valravens, carried powerful magick in their blood. Through many generations the family used their magick and power to amass a great fortune. The secret of their bloodline was held close. The Valraven’s were recognized, in the wider community, not for magick, but for philanthropy. They donated money to schools, libraries, hospitals and charities. By the late nineteen thirties, the family began to fray along the edges as the older generations passed away. The family fortune, tucked away in secure investments and stabilized by the family’s vast gold collection, was safe and continued to grow. The Valraven reputation for philanthropy, kindness and generosity faded. The younger generation, undisciplined in the greater mysteries and workings of magick, replaced the family honor with self-entitlement, disregard for community and, sometimes, cruelty.

  ‘A distant, but powerful branch of the Valraven family had settled near Lake Tahoe. Three Valraven brothers, their grandfather and two great uncles carried the power and wisdom of the true Valraven bloodline. They began to hear tales of the debauchery and destruction wrought by the young egotistical Valravens living in a grand mansion in Santa Cruz. The three brothers argued among themselves, the uncles could not agree to a plan and the Grandfather was dead
set against any plan, but the annihilation of the self-entitled Valraven youth. After weeks of heated debate, the brothers, uncles and grandfather agreed to wage war on the Valraven estate, not through violence, but through an exorcism by the Catholic church. When the young Valraven’s crossed the pond and began gambling their way through Europe, the exorcism began.

  ‘The walls, rafters, mantels and curved stairways of the main house were filled with intricately carved symbols and grounded the magick of the Valraven blood to the physical plain. The Catholic bishop, hired by the Lake Tahoe Valraven’s, was denied permission to burn the house to the ground. Instead, the bishop, carrying a crucifix mounted atop an ornate silver staff, walked with intention through the house. A half dozen priests followed behind him, twisting, defying and creating an invisible barrier to the magick in the Valraven estate. Chanting their own incantations in Latin, the posse of destruction set about burning the large library filled with the history of the Valraven family. They carefully packed the ancient grimoires they found, the powerful artifacts and magickal implements. The boxes containing an inestimable value and power were sent to the Vatican to be stored in the below ground vaults. My blood boils when I think of the power and knowledge they stole and locked away for their own use.

  ‘Lacking the vision to see the house as a potent cauldron of magick and the patience to reverse the spells of corrupted religious control, the infuriated young Valraven’s gathered their belongings and abandoned the last vestige of their inherited power.

  ‘Returning to Europe, the youths began to feed off the ancient bloodlines of Europe. They exhausted their welcome in Italy and France, then traveled down the Mediterranean coast to befriend a family in Malta. This was a mistake as the magickal families of Malta recognized the youths as the blood sucking, energy hungry miscreants they were. Warnings went out through the eastern countries and Europe. The young Valraven’s, labeled as energy vampires were, turned away from the powerful families the Valraven’s had been friends with for generations.’