Dark King Rising
Page 29
The Moon, a full silver disk, peeked above the horizon to find the Mother standing on the front porch of the Coven house bracketed by the Grecian pillars on either side. She stood alone, the first to greet the full moon, the bringer of true magic. The house behind her was quiet and dark; the others were already among the trees, preparing for the ritual which would keep them throughout the night. She turned to her right, then her left, looking at the path before the house, checking on the small torches already set out before the home.
As the light moved up the path, the torches lit, each of them suddenly sputtering to life as if they were breathed on by an ifrit. Still she stayed, letting the fires come to her. As the lights reached the house, every candle within sputtered to life. Above each bed was a small candelabra, three small tea lights representing the unified Mind, Body, and Spirit of each person who lay beneath them.
The Mother stepped from the porch and looked back toward the house. All the windows glowed. She smiled in approval and brought her hood up over her head. Her cane tapped smartly on the path as she moved away from the house and into the dark and solitary woods standing sentry at the back of the property. If she listened hard, she could hear Seran speaking, the water rushing on its way toward the ocean. Brevan and Seran had protected the family for centuries, offering peace and solace in times of trouble. Now as she strode along the path leading under the arching branches, she offered a thanksgiving prayer both to the world which sheltered them and the magic it provided. They would be safe a while longer.
The Ritual clearing, back in the woods and 100 yards across, was clear of trees by the will of Brevan; no human hand had cut a single tree missing from that clearing. In its center, her three eldest children stood making a triangle. In rings around them were the younger members of the family, Arabella's grandchildren, foundlings, and Coven members who had gone to live other places. They did not look at her as she passed them, but each was deep in contemplation of themselves. Feeling the flames of their power growing within them. Her eyes slipped to Melina as she passed, the girl was nearly kneeling, her hands clasped before her in prayer, those gloves still separating her from the world. Arabella moved into the center of the circle, touching each of her three in turn, both hands on their hair.
They had rearranged to cover the space left by the absence of their fourth.
Melina was glad the Mother didn't stop and put her hands on her, further showing any favor to this unwanted foundling among those who truly belonged to the Coven. Her eyes moved up from the grass and to the group in the center of the clearing.
The Renewal Moon came once every 20 years. It had last come before Melina was born, but she had heard what went on. The world's magic was being brought back to life. In the ebb before the Renewal Moon sometimes spells didn't always work. Afterwards, the world was a little wild with power. Spells went awry and their effects were spectacular.
Christina stood a few feet from her, all perfection in gold-blond curls. She stared straight forward, her eyes on her father who stood in the center with the mother. Patrick was the eldest of the three, the one most likely to take on the Mother's mantle and become the Father of the coven when the time came. Which meant Christina was likely to, one day, become someone of consequence. She liked to behave as if that had already happened. Melina tried not to drop her eyes when Christina caught her looking and grimaced. They were forced to share a room; they were not friends.
Both of them snatched their faces back toward the center when the Mother began to speak.
"Our Moon has come. The Cycle turns and carries with it all that we are."
Holding her cane before her, the Mother slid to her knees. Those around her did as well, each circle falling as if blown over by a wave.
"We give thanks for the return of what we are. For the power that sustains us and the world around us."
Brevan whispered around them, the trees moving like chimes without the aid of wind.
On her knees in the grass, Melina could feel the prickles through her white dress. Above her the stars were quiet and bright, spectators to this ritual of thanksgiving.
The lights on the path toward the house swept upward and began to dance. They made their way into the clearing floating on a nonexistent breeze, tiny torches seemingly carried by fairies. With a sway they settled over each member of the family and grew. The light dazzled. Then they gathered further in, becoming a pillar of fire directly above the Mother's head. She stepped away from the center, joining the three in their circle so that the fire could descend and become a bonfire in the center of the clearing.
The forest continued to speak; now crying louder around them, and Melina, listening as hard as she could, heard Seran, the river, speaking as well. Fire, water, forest spoke for the world at large.
They remained there in prayerful thanksgiving for another hour before the dance began.
Melina hung back and watched as the other members of the coven danced into the night.
When the moon began her journey down toward the horizon, in twos and threes, the coven returned home and to bed.
Melina was sitting under a tree at the edge of the clearing when Mother found her. Now she put her hands in the girl's hair and laid a kiss on her forehead.
"So far from the others."
"I am far from the others, Mother."
"I know and yet I wish you would not be. I love you, Melina."
"I love you too, Mother."
"Come, it is time for bed."
Getting up, Melina took her Mother's hand and they walked together down the path back toward the house. Several others were still on the path, but they said nothing to the pair. Inclining their head in respect to their elder and ignoring the younger woman whom they cared little for.
The house was not quiet, a dozen people wandering back and forth in preparation for bed. Christina was in their bedroom, talking on her cell, when Melina walked in. The look Christina shot her was only a touch below hateful. With an eye roll, Melina got ready for bed and slipped under the covers.
At least she didn't have to go to school the next day. Some small blessings were worth being thankful for.
Closing her eyes, she made a mental note to ask Death about the Renewal Moon and whether or not other covens celebrated it.
The Moon watched the house, a cyclopean silver eye, as a figure stood in the driveway watching the building as well. They pulled a book, an ancient leather bound volume, and opened it before them. In a low voice, they began to call the names in the book, a green mist twisting serpentine up from the dirt to drift through the obscuring cloak of the intruder.
As they continued to read, the mist serpent swirled away toward the house, staying low and growing large. When it reached the front door, it grew even larger, splitting in a dozen directions to slip through the chinks in windows and under doors.
It slipped into every room and covered the bodies within. As they breathed in quiet repose, it slipped inside them, a green haze coating their skin.
In Melina and Christina's room, the two girls lay sleeping. It slid across Melina without touching her and toward Christina, slithering into her body by her nose and mouth. Christina's breath stopped. Melina turned over in her sleep and cuddled down into her blankets.
The mist serpent returned to the speaker and curled at their feet until they dropped the book in the dirt and pulled out a bottle. When they unstoppered it, the creature crawled inside, now shiny with its feasting. Then they forced the stopper back inside, picked up the book, and disappeared into the night.
The moon, a single eye over the world, saw it all. Yet had no voice to raise in protest.
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