Vinni’s words took more effort than he’d expected, but he said, “Couldn’t hurt.”
Gwydion nodded. “I’ll do that, then.” He walked back to the boulder where he’d set the tree root, picked it up, and let his fingers find folds in the wood. No doubt seeing Vinni’s gaze fastened on the piece, he smiled and held it up. “An interesting find, isn’t it? I discovered it lying near the center of the Labyrinth.”
“The Ash, your Family shrine, the world tree,” Vinni murmured.
“Just so. I believe it to be a piece of black walnut.”
Vinni grunted.
“Like I said, an interesting shape, and something I can add to the altar tonight for the celebration of First Quarter Twinmoons.”
More people were celebrating tonight than Vinni had anticipated, than he’d ever considered would observe such a minor ritual.
His smile broad, Gwydion said, “Like you and Avellana, it’s my twin sister’s and my first time leading a Family ritual.” He ducked his head. “You gave Jasmine the idea and she asked the parents and so it happened.” His lips firmed. “I wanted something special for the altar.”
“It’s big, you could almost make an altar out of the piece itself.”
The youngster looked at the root again. “Maybe I could, but I like how the earth formed the wood, or how the wood formed itself when burrowing into the earth.”
“Is woodworking your creative Flair?” Vinni asked reluctantly. His heart hurt talking to the boy-man. He’d tried to ignore this particular child of Ash’s—one with great and shining potential to change the world . . . if he lived past the equally great darkness of a life cut short.
Big shoulders shrugged. “I suppose. I haven’t done much to discover my creative Flair. I love animals and Fams. My youngest sister is the true artist in the Family. My twin also knows hers.”
The twin sister with a good future and no shadow over it except a brother’s death.
A scry-pebble alert sounded, and Gwydion reached into his trous pocket. “As if our talking conjured her up,” he muttered. “Hey, Jasmine.”
“Where are you? At the Great Labyrinth! Come home, now! We need to get ready!”
“We have plenty of time,” Gwydion protested. “You’re anal about time.”
“Now!”
“All right.” With another smile at Vinni, the boy vanished.
And Vinni sat on a nearby boulder, his knees slightly weak. Another thorny problem he’d been avoiding had just confronted him.
Abutilon Gwydion Ash could change the world. For the better. Vinni knew all the signs, he’d seen them enough—on the people who’d discovered the cure for the plague. On entrepreneurs who’d built a new industry that made the planet better. On the boy’s father, T’Ash, who’d spearheaded the abolition and cleanup of the slum Downwind in Druida City.
His own scry pebble lilted with Avellana’s tune as his co-leader called him. “Greetyou, dearest,” he murmured to her, and saw her concerned expression smooth. She blinked as if recognizing the place.
“You are at the Great Labyrinth.”
“Yes.”
“I love that place. Did you ask your Lady and Lord to provide you with something special for the altar?”
“Something will come to hand,” he said.
She nodded. “I am about to begin my meditation process. I wanted to say I love you and to ask what has been bothering you.”
“I am angry at myself for my treatment of you.”
“Do not be.” She gifted him with a sweet smile. “I can be irritated with you for that. Tomorrow.”
“That hurts, too.”
“But during this ritual tonight, I will send any resurging remnants of my anger away along the four pathways of the Journey. You could give yours over to your Lady and Lord.” She paused. “And we can both ask our spiritual entities for guidance.”
“Good idea,” Vinni said. He stood and strode toward the nearest teleportation pad. He preferred to come and go via pad. Always safer if a vision happened to take him before, during, or after the act of teleportation. “I love you, too.”
“I know, Muin. I will see you later. We will be perfect tonight.”
“Yes. Until later.”
“Blessed be.” She ended the call.
He arrived on his bedroom pad.
Antenn and Avellana and the Ash boy had been right. Sparring with Gwydion had done Vinni good, rid him of negative energy and doubts, and distracted his mind to another difficult problem he’d been avoiding.
But he’d struggled to find a path, any way to save young Gwydion Ash before, and failed.
• • •
Vinni hadn’t found a special item for the altar, a tradition for when a person became the leader of a ritual, priest or priestess of the Lord or Lady, for the first time.
Of course he’d led his first ritual circle the year he’d become T’Vine as a child of six.
He should have considered that this would be the first time he and Avellana would lead a circle—ritual—together, and that it wouldn’t be exactly a circle. Their first sacramental ceremony together. And he should have looked for a proper new offering for the altar. Maybe in Multiplicity—no, bad idea, and he continued to have a slew of bad ideas. Multiplicity was Avellana’s current-house-soon-to-be-studio, his own retreat, perhaps. This, T’Vine Residence, would be her home and best they both remember that.
A ripple of unease seemed to waver in the air around him. Frowning, he left his bedroom for his sitting room. And there, on his cache table, from the Family, lay several objects that people had contributed for the ritual tonight, maybe something he was supposed to choose for his own special offering.
No.
He sucked in a breath and began coughing. One item polluted the atmosphere with more negative emotions than he’d held in his own person for the last week. Toxic.
Damn.
He touched it and it disintegrated immediately, leaving only a whiff of mind-scent of the guards. Didn’t know.
Damn. Members of his Family continued to oppose Avellana.
Well, hopefully some of those would change their minds tonight as they participated in the celebration of First Quarter Twinmoons.
That was the goal.
He scried Avellana back, and said quickly, “I think we should find a special item for our first ritual altar together. When you’re ready, scry me and I will meet you at the entry gate at the bottom of the gliderway up to the castle. We’ll walk up it until an item presents itself, then ’port to the sacred grove.”
She inclined her head—her head atop a pair of bare shoulders. He wondered if she was naked. “A wonderful idea, Muin.”
Clearing his throat and directing his mind away from sex, he said, “Later,” and signed off once again. But warning continued to itch at him, so just before he turned his mind and body to preparing for the ritual, and took himself in to bathe under the waterfall, he scried T’Ash Residence and asked for Gwydion.
The young man’s mild visage looked out at him from a screen. “T’Vine?”
“I want to request that you do not go to the Great Labyrinth by yourself for the rest of the summer.”
Gwydion’s brows dipped. “You’re sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“Okay.”
But Vinni thought his warning hadn’t sunk into the man’s consciousness. Still too young.
“Can I speak with one of your elders?” he asked.
Gwydion laughed. “Only Nuin is here; the parents are in the HouseHeart.” With an impish smile, he yelled, “Nuin, get off the scry with your latest girl, T’Vine wants to speak with you!”
All right, Vinni was being used for brotherly torment. Wonderful.
A scowling Nuin Ash, the oldest child of that Family, bumped Gwydion away from the scry panel. “Yeah?” He stopp
ed, looked surprised when he actually saw Vinni, did a quick half bow. “Greetyou, T’Vine.”
“Greetyou, Nuin,” Vinni responded. “Please emphasize to your younger brother, and your parents, that Gwydion should not go to the Great Labyrinth alone until after . . . the first frost.” That felt right.
Nuin’s eyes flashed surprise, then an arrested expression. “Okay. I’ll tell everyone. Thanks.” He paused as if trying to think what to say next.
“Merry meet.” Vinni started the standard farewell.
Nuin appeared relieved and inclined his head. “Merry part.”
“And merry meet again.”
“For sure!” T’Ash Residence’s scry panel went dark. Vinni wondered if he should have spoken to the intelligent Residence itself, but the wall timer chimed and he had to start ritual preparations now. His own Residence might not report to Bifrona or the others about his timeline . . . but maybe it would. In any event, he did not want to give any member of the Family the chance to criticize his or Avellana’s actions tonight.
You must begin your waterfall NOW, stated T’Vine Residence telepathically.
So Vinni stripped and began breathing in the pattern to cleanse body, mind, heart before he became a vessel for the Lord tonight . . . if that happened. Or if he manifested one of the entities Avellana believed in: the childlike self, the vital adult, the elder, the spiritual guardian.
He blanked his mind.
Twenty-four
When he met Avellana at the bottom of the hill, just inside the guard gate, she wore a formal robe of dark blue overlaid with spun silver in a Celtic knot pattern. Beautiful and appropriate for a First Quarter Twinmoons ceremony.
And she shimmered with the personal armor spell. With a curve of her lips, she asked, “Will you defend me?”
If he’d been wearing weapons, he’d have clapped his hands on sword and blazer. Instead, he bowed. “To the death.” Straightening, he spread his arms. “As will all the guards in T’Vine Residence.”
With a nod she whispered, “Poof,” and dropped the armor.
He wanted to pull her close, feel her soft body against his. Connect with her by physical touch. So he held out his hands and waited for her to clasp them, then closed his eyes when their fingers met. Skin to skin.
Not quite as good as lips to skin, or lips to lips, or anything other than hands. But she radiated serenity and settled him just at the first touch of their palms sliding together.
He had not managed to reach a deep meditative state earlier. Being with her helped that.
“Greetyou and blessings of the journey together, beloved,” Avellana whispered.
“Greetyou and blessings of the Lady and Lord,” he replied. He began to regulate his breathing. That would help, too, keep inhalations and exhalations in the right order and timing.
Avellana’s breasts rose as she matched the rhythm of his deep breaths.
“Your robe is lovely, but not as lovely as you.” He brought their linked hands to his mouth and kissed her fingers.
“The robe is new and will serve very well for tonight.” Her breath sifted out. Glancing around, she smiled. “It has been a long time since we walked up the hill together. Usually I teleport to your tower or the public rooms.”
“Yes.”
“We can use this time as a walking meditation.”
He didn’t know about that, but though he sensed his Family watching—the guards below and above at the gates, others from the multitude of windows in the tall fortress walls—no one else hung around the gliderway.
“We will join our energies in meditation before we lead the ritual.” She tilted her head and flashed him a genuine smile. “As we will do for the rest of our lives.”
He swallowed hard. “Yes.”
“And we will find an offering for our first altar together.”
“Of course we will.” He couldn’t see his future, or hers or theirs in detail, but he could feel the feathery waft of destiny for minor matters, occasionally, as he did now. “The Lady and Lord will bless us in this.”
“My Deities of the Journey are full of joy and laughter and will grace us.”
She swung their hands and he let her cheer sweep through him, ease away snags of edgy nerves.
They proceeded in quiet companionship.
Avellana spotted the item first, since she watched where they walked and he looked at her.
“Muin, a feather!” She dropped his hand.
Feathers often fell around the castle. T’Vine Residence contained a falconry that included several varieties of birds.
But Avellana bent down and swooped up the plume, and after he watched her robe outline her pretty backside, he focused on the long thing—about a half meter of feather, with horizontal strands a good ten centimeters wide.
“Zow,” he said. He didn’t even know what bird this came from. “Rather like a peacock feather with a fancy eye, but not from that bird.”
“Four colors!” she exulted, brushing the fat top with her fingers. “Gold, orange, red, and a deep purple heart in the center. Wonderful!”
“Yes.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Hmm. I can use these colors and this feather in a mural, perhaps in my home and . . .” Beaming up at him, she said, “A lovely offering, and we know our divine entities bless us and our purpose tonight.”
He nodded.
When she took his hand again, he held the feather with her.
“You seem easier this evening, Muin.”
“So do you.”
She chuckled. “The benefits of meditating in my childhood rooms, I believe. Though I am anticipating living in Multiplicity.” She sent him a sultry look from under lowered lashes. “Until we wed and I come here.”
It occurred to him that he should follow his HeartMate’s previous advice and give those feelings that continued to weigh on him to the Lady and Lord before he made the first formal step of the ritual. Those lingering doubts and worries stuck inside him. He should have faith that the Lady and Lord would provide him with inspiration to find his way.
Avellana’s own preparations had obviously included scattering those fragments of her negative emotions to the four directions.
Thinking of directions, feeling the gazes of his hidden Family, he wondered how many would actually show up for the ritual.
He’d hedged his bets.
That morning he’d considered his Family member by member and whom he could absolutely trust. To his surprise, he came up with about a quarter of the folk he led whom he believed were honorable, and he thought three-quarters of his Family would follow him if he didn’t do anything too revolutionary . . . or stupid. That relieved him.
But right now, he understood that he couldn’t expect all those who supported him to be at the ritual. Some would be working, some would have other plans. Some, like his chief guard, simply weren’t spiritual and only appeared at the major holiday ceremonies when all the Family was expected.
Vinni had tapped four of those he most trusted, who would follow him and Avellana and work together well, to handle the directional energies so important in every ritual circle. Thankfully all four were intrigued by the small changes to the standard ceremony and could easily learn their lines.
Before he and Avellana had reached the last curving incline to the third gate of T’Vine Residence castle, they were notified that the Hazels had arrived and awaited him and Avellana with the rest of the participants in the sacred grove.
Sliding an arm around her waist, he teleported them to the altar at the center of the grove, then released her. She turned and curtseyed several times to his relatives who circled them, about twenty of them. She dipped her head and made the same observance to her mother, D’Hazel, a FirstFamily GreatLady, and grinned at her own Family. Vinni followed suit, and then he and Avellana placed the feather on the altar.
She glanced up at the castle towering above them, then shot Vinni a look as she realized the altar and the compass points had been moved slightly to accommodate the Hopeful’s sacred directions. Vinni didn’t know if anyone else had observed it, but he felt the oddness as tension in his shoulders. The grove lay near his personal tower and he wasn’t accustomed to seeing his rooms from this angle during a ceremony.
Flexibility in his life must be key.
With a nod to his flautist, Vinni signaled the woman to begin the Gathering Song. He and Avellana awaited a few late arrivals, then closed the circle and intoned the Welcoming Blessing.
They all joined hands in the circle, as always dedicated to the Lady and Lord, Avellana had accepted that. As they summoned the guardian energies, the people Vinni had placed at the four directional points not only included the Celtic elemental names but added a line about a childlike self, and a vital adult, emphasized the guardian spirit, and spoke of the crone, the wise one nearing the end of her journey. And when they linked all energies and Flair to proceed with the ritual, those four faded back and brought others with them so the circle became more of a rounded square.
From then on Vinni took two personas in the ceremony, the mature and greatly Flaired man and the guardian spirit—as guardian of the Family. Avellana revealed the naturalness and innocent acceptance of a child, and reflected the experience and endurance of an aged person who’d seen much of life.
Then, to the surprise of most of the Family, the circle drew together, then separated into two parallel lines, with Avellana and Vinni at the top. He nodded to several Family musicians—the flute, a fiddle, and a drum—and the celebrants began a slow march that everyone recognized. The lines changed as couples opposite each other took hands. A procession for Avellana around the grove, this journey in accordance with her religion.
Heart Sight Page 24
