The Temple

by Heather Marie Adkins

  With Jordan behind bars and Melissa otherwise occupied, the Temple found itself a little understaffed in the coming week. The guy who worked the shift before Jordan and I decided to split up the shifts and happily worked the overtime, developing a quick friendship. Maurice was from Puerto Rico, and spoke fluent English with the most beautiful Hispanic accent. He was very soft spoken, and we shared a common bond of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” and chocolate chip ice cream.

  My first night back, I sat at Cerridwen’s feet, cross legged on the stones, and stared up at her, lit by the spotlights. “Did you really speak to me?” I asked her serene face, tracing every part of her with my eyes. There was the dream, and the voice. I didn’t think I was crazy, but something inside me had shifted.

  After a quick stop in the supply room, I lit a torch and headed for the ritual room, arms full. It was taped off with crime scene yellow, but the door was open. I ripped the tape down and clicked across the floor on my heeled boots, dropping the lit torch into the burned lumber and ashes of the fire pit. The flames burst into life as if given an ignition fluid, illuminating the room. I adjusted the white robe around my shoulders, tying the golden rope around my waist snugly, taking a deep breath.

  First, I cleaned up the puddle of blood where Jordan had lain prone. A little bit of lavender bleach and the stone was good as new, though I couldn’t promise it hadn’t seeped deep in the porous rock. The club had been taken by the police, or else I would have burned it in the fire pit.

  The memory of my terror for Melissa wasn’t as strong as I expected. Even Katherine’s presence seemed to have faded until it was just a room again. I was determined to take the evil she and Jordan had put into the room and make it whole.

  I placed four white pillar candles at the four points of the compass around the fire. In the middle before the flames, I set a bowl of water mixed with lavender and rosemary essential oils, and a bowl of mixed herbs; whatever had taken my fancy from the shelf in the tool closet.

  Striking a match, I lit the northern candle. It felt natural, mimicking the movements I’d watched my mother do my entire life, and feeling the devotion she felt. For the first time, I felt the beings on which I called. “Spirits of the north and earth, join me in my celebration.”

  I lit the eastern candle. “Spirits of the east, join me in my celebration.”

  When I’d lit all four, I knelt before the fire and my tools. I held the bowl of herbs in both my hands and held it up over my head. “Goddess, tonight I honor you and dedicate myself in your love and grace. The help you’ve given, however sideways and off the beaten path it may have been,” I joked, “was much needed. Thank you. I leave you this offering.” I dumped the herbs into the flames and took a deep breath as their pungent, mixed aromas filled the room, streams of smoke dancing around me. I imagined the herbs cleansing the negativity left behind from Katherine’s evil, soaring over those energies and leaving them white and clean in its wake.

  Taking a deep breath, I lifted the bowl of rosemary and lavender water, and closed my eyes. I imagined white light beaming down from the goddess and infusing the water with her love and protection. The bowl glowed bright in my mind, containing all the love and comfort of a mother for her child. Placing it on the floor before me in the wavering light of the fire, I untied my robe and let it fall.

  Skyclad means to practice magic in the nude. The closest state to the goddess.

  I dipped the first two fingers of my right hand into the scented water and traced a pentagram on one of my feet, and repeated for the other. “Blessed are my feet, that will bring me on this path.”

  Wetting my fingers again, I traced the pentagram on both my knees. “Blessed are my knees, as they kneel before my Lady.”

  Another glistening pentagram on my abdomen. “Blessed is my womb, a gift from the goddess of life and love.”

  “Blessed is my heart, bursting with love for my goddess,” I said softly, tracing the rosemary and lavender pentagram over my breasts.

  I finished with a pentagram over my lips. “Blessed are my lips, speaking Her name and sharing her secrets.”

  Pulling my robe back up around my shoulders, I could feel the symbols on my skin, and the message they sent to my body. I was Hers. I wanted to be Hers. For the first time in my life, I believed.

  I sat for some time, meditating on that, lost in my newfound spirituality.

  *********

  “You look different,” Brett murmured against my temple, pressing a kiss to my hair. Stepping back, he brushed the fingers of one hand up and into my hair, gently pulling my face up to scrutinize me. “Glowing, like.”

  I blushed, and dropped my eyes. “Thanks.”

  Bless his heart, he didn’t press. I wasn’t ready to talk about my dedication to the goddess. Maybe I never would; it was precious. “I’ll be over when I get off, yeah?”

  He kissed me softly, his lips playing over mine like fingers on piano keys. I let my body melt against his, molding to his frame as if made for him. The end of his shift seemed so far away.

  *********

  A new girl sat behind the desk at headquarters, filing her nails with two Chuck Taylor sneakers propped up on the desk connected to ridiculously long legs. Her fluffy pink skirt looked like something a Victorian lady wore under her dresses—crinoline, I think. The anarchy symbol was slashed in red across her white tank top. I liked her.

  “Hey,” she said, dropping her feet and sitting forward, extending a hand.

  “Hey, back,” I answered, giving her hand a firm squeeze. Her hair was as black as mine, hanging in straight lines down her cheek bones, barely brushing her shoulders. Her eyes were vibrant green and sparkled with good cheer. “I’m Vale.”

  “Good to meet you. Seems like us Statesidees are taking over Quicksilver,” she laughed. “I’m Christina, from California. Where are you from?”

  “No town, Mississippi,” I quipped, making her chuckle. I appraised her warm smile, and felt a flash of pain at Melissa lying alone in her bed. “When do you get off? Wanna get breakfast?”

  Who was this strange new person I’d become?

  Chapter 24

  Pulling into a spot, I glanced at the green lit clock on my dashboard. I had an hour until Christina would be getting off and meeting me at the sandwich shop by the library. Tossing my shoulder bag over my arm, I stepped out into the bitter, cold air and trudged into the hospital, my gloved hands shoved deep in the pockets of my coat.

  The Head Nurse on Melissa’s floor gave me a sad smile and a slight shake of her pixie-cut head. No change. I sighed at all the world’s injustices, and pushed open the door to Melissa’s room. Dropping my bag into a chair, I fiddled with her covers and ran a brush through her wavy curls until they shone. Her skin looked better. Pinker.

  “I brought a book,” I told her, patting her hand as I took the seat beside her bed and pulled The Thin Woman by Dorothy Cannell from my bag. “The librarian said it’s a great mystery series, and the heroine solves crimes. Like you did.”

  Flipping to the first page, I began to read. “Nice people everywhere know that family reunions are occasions of wholesome pleasure…”

  *********

  Christina waved at me from a table along the wall, one thin leg crossed over an equally thin leg as she leaned forward on her elbows on the table top.

  “How was the rest of your shift?” I asked her, sliding onto the seat across from her as I untied my bright red scarf and draped it over the back of my chair.

  “Okay. It’s pretty boring, if I’m going to be honest,” she laughed. I unbuttoned my coat and dropped it to the chair beside me, shaking out my unruly mane of hair. Tossing it back into a messy ponytail, I yawned. “You tired?”

  I grinned. “Sorry. It’s been a long weekend.”

  Christina sobered, putting a cold hand over one of mine. “I’m sorry about your friend. Melissa, right?” At my nod, she grasped my hand and gave me an encouraging squeeze. “She’ll be okay.”

  “I know
. I’m just mad that I wasn’t able to get to her in time.” It was the first I’d put the worry into words, and I hadn’t realized how much it would hurt.

  “From what I understand, if you hadn’t got there when you did, she’d be dead,” she said pointedly, quirking her lips into an amused grin. “Maybe this is more of a glass half full situation?”

  “You’re right, I know. I just feel like I’ve let her down.” I traced a swirl into some spilled salt on the table, smiling at the waitress as she dropped two steaming mugs of espresso and water before us. I dumped half a pound of sugar and cream in mine, making Christina laugh.

  “Yeah, this stuff isn’t quite like good ole home brewed coffee, huh?”

  “There’s a lot that’s not as good as it is back home,” I agreed, slurping at my sweetened sludge. “But, to be honest, I love it here.”

  "Me too,” she nodded, taking a drink of her coffee. “My parents thought I was nuts when I said I was moving overseas. But, then they always thought I was a little snuffed.”

  “What made you decide?”

  “A letter from Edward. I was originally going to be a guard, but I’m filling in at the office until he can find a replacement desk whore. Then, I’ll be filling Jordan’s position.”

  “Huh,” I answered noncommittally. It was almost like fate worked everything out for us. A new guard. Not to mention, a female one. Maybe She was attempting to make amends for all we’d lost. “Well, congrats. It’s good to have you on board.”

  She cleared her throat. “I heard about your accident too,” she said softly, gesturing to my dirty white cast. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like it’s about damn time this cast came off,” I told her, sipping my coffee. “The doctor won’t believe me when I tell him I heal fast.”

  “The curse of being superhuman,” Christina nodded wisely. “Alas, I suffered through many a plaster situation as a girl.”

  “Superstrong?”

  She shook her head, hair swirling around her face. “Uh-uh. I’m a healer.”

  “We could use one of those.”

  *********

  The message light was blinking when I got home. Staring at the little red bulb popping in and out of existence below my handset, I petted Hunter on the snout distractedly. Maybe it was time to invest in a cell phone and get with the times. My phone felt like a brothel in Amsterdam.

  My Mother’s voice drifted on the cool air of my apartment as I kicked up the thermostat by the back door. “Lovie, it’s Mom. We just wanted to check on Melissa. And you. Call me back, baby.”

  The next message was a familiar grandpa voice. “Vale, Edward here. Give me a ring, I’d like to set up a meeting at headquarters. We have a few things to discuss.”

  “What fresh hell…” I murmured, pouring some dry kibble out for Addie. I shook my head and shrugged as it clicked over into the next message.

  “Vale, it’s Brett,” the stream of syllables almost didn’t make any sense. “Look, I’ve got to hop a plane in an hour. I’m not going to be able to come over this morning. Trust me on this, it’s really important that I make this trip. I’ll call you the minute I get back.”

  My heart flopped in my chest. Again with the obscure trips and the messages with absolutely no explanation. I was starting to think the man was a drug runner. I grabbed up the cordless and dialed the familiar number to home.

  “Hey, baby girl, how is your friend?” Dane’s warm voice burst over the line without saying hello. It brought a smile to my face, canceling out the worry lines Brett’s message had left there.

  “Stable, but still not awake. It was just a hard enough hit to keep her down.”

  “But thankfully enough, not to kill her,” he finished in his soothing voice. “Give her body time to heal, she’ll wake up soon.”

  “I want her to wake up now,” I said irritably on a sigh, banging my head against the fridge. Hunter stared up at me, almost hidden behind my curtain of hair, his tongue lolling out of his mouth like a sentient being. His easy, innocent life depressed me.

  “I know, sweetheart.” The silence drug on for a minute, each of us lost in thought. It struck me, the kindness of my family. They’d never even met Melissa, but they cared. For a moment, I felt blessed and loved.

  “Dad, I need to call my boss. I’ll talk to you later, ok?”

  “Yeah, baby girl, that’s fine. Look, Mom and I were talking, and we’re going to come to you for Christmas. What do you think?”

  I smiled into the receiver and mentally counted the days. “That sounds great.”

  We hung up and I rummaged through my junk drawer under the phone for my original letter from Edward. Punching in the numbers for headquarters, I listened to it ring, and a bored, male voice answered. “Headquarters.”

  So vague and noncomformist, the name of my employer’s base. “Hi, this is Vale Avari. Edward asked me to call.”

  “What day did you want to come in?” he asked, still monotone, still bored. I could hear a pencil tapping the desk in the background.

  “Tomorrow,” I tried to mimic his bored tone, but probably wasn’t successful. He seemed pretty well rehearsed.

  “Ten a.m. good?”

  “That’s fine, thanks,” I replied, shaking my head. The phone clicked in my ear.

  *********

  I was conversing with Cerridwen about Christina, and how neat she was, and about Melissa, then even more of a rant about Brett’s secrecy, when a voice broke through, startling me. “Why are you talking to the statue?” Anya asked, sliding down to sit beside me. She draped transparent hands over her knees elegantly, and eyed me.

  I laughed, shaking my head. “I don’t know, Anya. I’m still trying to sort that out myself. What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to say goodbye.” She paused, her pretty face thoughtful. “Will you tell Bella I miss her? That I will always be there for her.”

  “Bella?” And the light dawns. Anya was Bella’s old roommate—and friend. I nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me who killed you? And about Katherine?”

  Anya lifted her pretty face, phantom hair falling away from it as she smiled at the goddess upon her throne. “We are put on this earth to learn lessons, Vale. There are some lessons you must learn without help.” She looked me square in the eye. “They didn’t kill me, Vale. They tried.” It was the most coherent I could remember her speaking.

  “What? Then who did?” But, she was gone, blinking out of existence as if she’d never been.

  “No,” I told the empty room, glancing up at Cerridwen and repeating more firmly, “No. No more.”

  The goddess just smiled benignly.

  *********

  Depressed at seeing Nikolas, rather than Brett at shift change, I drove the younger man’s sleek sports car to HQ and found a coveted front door spot in which to cut the engine. It had finally become cold enough for a light snow to be swirling from the gray sky, coating the other cars and asphalt with a layer of white. I really wanted a White Christmas, and being only the first week of November, I thought maybe it would happen.

  The car door shutting in the empty parking lot was semi-sonic. It was still echoing off the five story brick block of a building when I opened the glass doors and went inside. A boy who appeared to be no older than his late teens sat grumpily behind reception, his face planted on one palm, elbow on the desk. I dropped Nik’s keys in the basket and signed the clipboard beside it, eyeing him from the tops of my eyes.

  “And you are?”

  “Eamon,” he answered in a lilting Irish accent. He sounded like a rough street hoodlum. I laughed.

  “You didn’t have an accent on the phone yesterday.”

  He cracked a grin and snickered. “I try to do the accents of people who call. For you, I was American.”

  “Nice hobby.”

  “You’re Vale, right? Hey, Edward came in about an hour ago because of an emergency and wanted me to send you in when you got here. Just through there.” He waved at a set of glass double
doors at the top of the wide stairs. I clipped up, my boot heels clicking in the quiet lobby.

  Edward looked up from a mash of papers on his desk when I pushed through and smiled brightly. “Ah, Vale! Fantastic to see you, my Dear. Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll be with you in a moment?”

  Dropping my satchel to the floor beside the comfy armchair before his desk, I sank into it, and tugged off my snow-flecked jacket, draping it over the arm. I studied my boss as he shuffled through his paperwork, frown lines between the two arches of his brow. His hair was a little whiter after the stress of the past few days, his suit a little more wrinkled than the last time I’d seen him. I admired his high, fine cheekbones and the crisp blue of his eyes, wondering if he’d descended from nobility.

  “I need to make a phone call,” he told me wearily, dropping several sheets of paper to the desk with a sigh. Lifting the receiver, he pressed a single button and listened, rubbing his brow with the fingers of his other hand. “Yes, Mr. Connor, it’s Edward Nice.”

  I drifted off, gazing around his fancy office. The walls were dark mahogany, lined with bookshelves stuffed so full of new and used bindings they were stacked horizontally over the vertical, not an inch of space remaining. Three framed degrees hung on the wall behind Edward’s head in gold filigree frames—all from Cambridge. A well-loved fern sat in the corner by the window, caressing maroon paisley curtains that would have been hideous did they not fit the rest of the decor.

  When he hung up, he crossed his arms on the desk and shook his head. “If it’s not one thing, it’s another,” he said jovially with a chuckle. “I’m sure you are wondering why I’ve asked to meet with you.”

  “A bit,” I answered honestly, nervously crossing one leg over the other. I felt like I’d been called to the principal’s office, even though I’d seen him a lot more since Melissa’s accident than I had before. I’d already gone over everything I could have possibly done wrong in my head.

  “Here’s the thing,” he started, placing both hands flat on his desk. “I know you’ve only just begun work for us. We’ve been impressed with you. Unquestionably, Melissa had a hand in figuring out the situation, but ultimately it was you who diffused it.”