by J. R. Mabry
Then, one-by-one, they brought their candles together as they linked their fingers and recited, “Hand in hand I cast this circle.”
When all were finished, Kat pronounced, “The circle is now cast. Today is not today. This place is not this place. We celebrate now between the worlds.”
She then invited them to feel their feet grounded in the soil of their Mother, and to breathe up from her the good energy that would be the fuel for the magick they worked that night. Mikael imagined the energy traveling up his legs, circling momentarily in his loins, then springing up his spine. The energy rushed up then, faster and more intense, until it shot through the top of his head. He felt a little dizzy, and his head ached slightly from a cold kind of fire. Then, according to Kat’s instructions, he sent that energy to Deb on his left, even as he received more energy from Julia on his right. As the energy passed around the circle it rose in intensity so that Mikael could feel the hairs on his arms stand up from the electricity of it.
Energy raised, they dropped hands and turned toward the east as Jimmy, the priest for the evening, called the first quarter. In a ringing voice that was only slightly overdramatic, he called out, “Hail, Spirits of the east, Spirits of wind and air, join us now in our celebration. Blow through us, sweep us clean from all the dirt we acquired over the summer. Sweep through our minds, make our thinking clear. Make us ready for autumn, for harvest. So mote it be!”
“So mote it be!” they all called.
After Jimmy called in the other three quarters, Kat stepped forward again, calling out, “Goddess, blessed Lady, harvest Queen, bestow upon us your bounty and joy. We gather tonight to honor you and to give you thanks. Be among us and celebrate with us.”
Jimmy stood next to her and called out, “Harvest King, God of riches and abundance, bestow upon us your strength and your joy. Father, we gather tonight to honor you and give you thanks. Be among us and celebrate with us.”
“Corn-dollies!” shouted Julia, and Mikael stepped back as the women rushed to the altar to dress several figures lying there with poppies, orange and yellow carnations and other autumnal colors. As Mikael admired their work, it reminded him of when he was a kid, carving pumpkins or coloring Easter eggs.
As in love with Kat as he was, Mikael discovered it was difficult to watch a dozen naked mostly-young women and not become aroused. So he turned to stare at the bonfire instead, only to find that Jimmy had done the same. They shared an embarrassed laugh.
“No hiding from the wood here,” Jimmy said.
“Word,” Mikael agreed.
“What’s it like being famous?” Jimmy asked.
“You can’t be talking about me,” Mikael scowled.
“None of the rest of us have been on the front page of the New York Times.”
“Hm…haven’t noticed much difference—except for all the people out in front of the house. Still dirt poor,” Mikael confessed.
“But you’re happier than I’ve seen you in years,” Jimmy noted.
Mikael smiled at the flames and nodded. “You got that right.”
“How is she adjusting? To the whole Christian thing?”
He meant Kat of course. “There’s a learning curve. But she’s coming along really well. She’s on track to be ordained deacon—pretty soon, too. Normally we only do our sabbat work with the Christian pantheon, but I think it’s been good for us both to hook up with you guys for the major sabbats. She loves the Order, but sometimes…I think she misses her old coven.”
“You can never go home again,” Jimmy shook his head.
“I don’t think she wants to. It’s just nostalgic—in a good way.”
“Well, we’re glad to have you both. You’re family.”
Mikael put his arm around Jimmy’s shoulder and touched his head to Jimmy’s as they both stared at the fire. “Deflation achieved, dude.”
It was just in time. The corn-dollies having been duly decorated, everyone returned to the circle. The moon loomed above them, even as the last rays of sunlight disappeared below the horizon. Kat shone gold in the flickering firelight. She turned slowly, looking each of them in the eyes as she spoke, “Rejoice, for the time of harvest is here. This is a time for gratitude and celebration. Day and night are now in equal balance. The Sun King has crept into the shadows and sleeps once more in the womb of the Goddess.” She held up an ear of corn. “To you, Mother, we offer this fruit of the harvest. All we have is yours, and we return it to you now with thanksgiving.” With that, she threw the corn into the fire, and invited them to do the same, naming something they were grateful for.
Jimmy, standing to Kat’s left, threw his own ear of corn into the fire, shouting, “I’m grateful for my dog, Benjie.”
Luna, next to Jimmy, tossed another ear into the fire, but she mumbled her gratitude, and Mikael couldn’t hear it. Julia, though, wasn’t shy and declared herself grateful for her cancer. “It woke me up to my own life,” she said, radiating authority.
Suddenly, it was Mikael’s turn, but he hadn’t been thinking ahead. Of course he was grateful for Kat, for his Order mates, for the soulful labor that filled his days. He was grateful for music, for his band, for—
But before he could speak, Mikael felt an unseen force punch him in the chest. He staggered and fell to one knee.
He wasn’t the only one. Jimmy clutched at his chest, as did several of the women. A moment later, the attack had passed and they looked around at one another with wild, fearful eyes.
“What…just…happened?” Kat asked.
Mikael struggled to his feet and walked slowly around the circle, testing its edges. His face was grave as he felt the air around him. It was as if someone had opened a hole in their carefully crafted circle and sucked every last electron of energy from it. In Mikael’s mind’s eye he saw an enormous vacuum cleaner, sucking out the power. But it was probably more like a capacitor—an energy ground from outside that had siphoned it off. But why? And who?
“I’m scared,” Luna said, suddenly covering her breasts with her hands.
Why is she suddenly modest? Mikael wondered. But he felt it, too—the feeling of violation. The safety of their worship had been taken from them. The energy they had raised for the healing of the earth and her creatures had been hijacked.
“Should I close the circle?” Kat asked.
“I don’t see why,” Mikael answered. “The energy is gone.”
“Just for the sake of formality, out of respect for the Goddess and the God, I think we should,” Jimmy said. He was the priest. He had authority at this sabbat.
Mikael nodded and got back into circle with his brother and sisters. They held hands, but there was no joy. Kat’s hands were shaking. They had been robbed.
3
“Phil? Hey, Phil.”
Detective Philip Cain stared out the window of the service sedan as it wound its way through the forested intestines of Tilden Park.
His partner reached over and slapped his knee. “Hey, Bloodhound. Earth-to-fucking-Phil.”
Cain blinked and shot Detective Liz Perry a pained look.
“I need a navigator. The GPS doesn’t list picnic sites. Snap out of it.”
“Oh. Sorry,” he said. He squinted at the signs and clicked on a pen flashlight to check the printout balanced on his lap. “We’re looking for a picnic site called ‘Fern.’ We just passed ‘Big Leaf,’ so I think we’re still going the right way. It should be on our right.”
“It’s not the end of the world, Phil.”
“Huh?”
“Your kid. Jesse. Nothing has changed. He’s still your kid. He is still the same kid today that he was yesterday, or even last year. The only thing different now is that he’s finally being honest with you.”
“I don’t even know what ‘bisexual’ means. Does that mean he has a boyfriend and a girlfriend? At the same time? Does he have sex with them at the same time?”
“Uh…that’s probably something you should ask him, if you really want to know, that is
. But uh, newsflash, Phil. I’m bisexual.”
“You’re married. To Dan.”
“Right. But I’ve dated girls. If I hadn’t met Dan, I might be married to a woman right now.”
“Does it mean you have a…a…I don’t even know how to ask this—”
“Does it mean I have a girlfriend on the side? No. I’m completely monogamous. Not that it’s any of your business.”
“So…I don’t get it.”
“Look, Phil, it just means that your boy is equally attracted to men and women. He’ll probably settle down with one partner eventually, like most of us do. But it’ll be like flipping a coin—you won’t know whether it’ll be with a man or a woman until you’re at the wedding. And then the world will either see him as a straight man or a gay man, but he won’t ever be any of those things. He’ll always be bi. It’ll always be a part of who he is.”
“You’re not talking about Jesse anymore, are you?”
“I’m just…I’m speaking from experience. And I’m telling you that you’d better not love your kid any less tomorrow than you did yesterday or I’m going to punch you in the fucking teeth.”
“Huh,” he stared out the window at the dark branches as they passed beneath them. Every now and then a sliver of silver moonlight shone through. “Did I fail him somehow? Maybe I wasn’t around enough. Do you think it’s a phase?”
“Have you even talked to Jesse?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve talked to Jesse. The kid is queer as a three-dollar bill. Take off the horse blinders, old man. This isn’t about you. It’s about him. And it’s not a fucking phase.”
“Fern,” Cain said, stabbing his finger toward the sign. He needn’t have been looking so carefully, as the place was already lit up by squad cars. Blue strobes panned over the treetops, making them seem like they were in motion—dark, looming persons-of-interest, rushing to make their escape. Stepping out of the car, Cain’s nostrils started twitching—wood smoke, dirt, exhaust, and the faint coppery scent of blood.
As he and Perry picked their way to the picnic site, he heard the indistinct chatter of the uniformed officers. He clearly made out the whispered word, “Bloodhound,” but he ignored it. He’d gotten the nickname years ago when he’d followed a clue that no one else could discern. No one he knew had as keen a sense of smell as he did. He didn’t think too much about it. It was a gift. And he didn’t resent he nickname, either. After all, these were cops. He’d heard plenty of nicknames he liked less. There was, at least, respect intended in his.
“What do we have?” Perry asked the uniform guarding the scene. “And why such a wide perimeter?”
Cain hadn’t noticed that, but Perry was right. Instead of the immediate area around the body being taped off, the designated area was a radius about 30 feet from the body.
“Couple over there were walking—”
“At night?”
“It’s usually safe to walk in Berkeley at night.”
“Go on.”
“The guy there had to take a leak, walked off into the bushes here, stumbled over the body. Says he checked for a pulse, she was dead. M.E. confirms that. We’re getting statements now. There seems to be a large evidence field. Might be nothing, but…might be something, too. We thought it best to wait until you got here before we tracked dirt all over it.”
“All over what?” Perry asked.
Just then the floodlights popped on and Cain raised his arm to shield his eyes until they could adjust. As they did, he saw the picnic site as clearly as if it were noon—except that the shadows were longer. He saw the fire, complete with still-smoldering embers and a wisp of smoke. He saw the body of a young woman, laying near the fire in a fetal position, and he saw signs drawn in the dirt.
“What the fuck are those?”
“That’s what we wanted to preserve. I haven’t seen anything like this—I mean, not since I used to play Dungeons and Dragons in High School.”
Cain scowled at the uniformed cop. He squinted to see the man’s name. Frey.
“And what do these kinds of symbols mean in Dungeons and Dragons, Officer Frey?”
“They’re…I don’t know. Occult symbols. Like, for magical spells and such.”
“Magical spells.” Cain’s eyebrows bunched.
“And such. Yeah.”
Cain gave him a curt nod and turned his attention to the scene. He started to step over the tape, but Perry stopped him with a sharp yelp. “Yi! Watch it. Look where you were just about to step.”
Cain cocked his head and backed up. Getting down on his knees, he viewed the spot just in front of him from a different angle. Sure enough, someone had created a design in the dirt. He couldn’t see it when he stood up, but it was there. The light was bright, but it was tricky.
“Let’s get video in here before anything else,” Perry called. CSU had just arrived, but Cain hadn’t noticed. This thing with Jesse really has me off my game, he thought. He kicked himself inwardly and tried to banish his son and the whole confused tangle of feelings and presumptions and disappointments dancing around him. He imagined stuffing the lot of it into a closet and locking it. As he did it he suddenly realized he had just unconsciously negated the symbolism of his son coming out of the closet to him. Cain felt a stab of guilt but took some comfort in knowing that he could never completely close that door again. Not ever. Not even if he wanted to.
And it occurred to him then that he did not want to. He wanted to truly know his son, even if that meant he had to relinquish some cherished ideas about him. That would be okay. There was always a price to pay for authenticity, for intimacy. Illusion was a currency he would not resent parting with—not on his good days, anyway.
The air was turning cold, and he wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “Do we have an ID on the girl?”
“No sir,” Frey said.
Cain studied the designs drawn into the dirt. The largest appeared to be a pentagram—a five-pointed star. Cain could clearly see the mash of grass in the center of that star—someone had stood there for some time. The girl’s body lay just outside of the star. His nostrils twitched. Perfume? No. “Frankincense,” he called out to Perry.
“What? How do you know that?”
He held his palms up as if to say, What? Are you kidding me?
“Oh. Right. Okay, we got…frankincense, for Christ’s sake. What the hell does that tell us?”
“That this wasn’t a bunch of kids playing ‘Hail Satan.’ Frankincense is expensive. And this was the real stuff. Some myrrh, too. It was also cut with some sandalwood and aloe, but those are cheaper.”
“You scare me sometimes.” Perry crossed to stand next to Cain. She pointed. “There’s something not right about that fire.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s ringed with stones, but it’s not an official fire pit—there’s no grill. It’s too small.”
Cain nodded. “So where’s the official fire pit?”
“Let’s find out,” Perry said. Cain followed her, as the video guys began to document the scene.
Perry pulled out a flashlight and lit up the road as they walked. About 500 paces further they saw a large picnic site. “So the sign is back there, but the actual site is here.”
Cain nodded. “There were people here, too. He pulled out his own flashlight and picked his way over to the large fire pit. “Good citizens. They put out the fire, but I can still smell it. They burned sage, too. And…corn?”
He found a twig and started to pick at the fire. “Yeah. See here? Husks.”
“Big deal. A regular picnic.”
“Maybe. We should get CSU to document over here, too.”
Perry nodded her agreement, but her lips tightened in confusion. Cain shone his flashlight back over toward the crime scene. Were it not for the blue strobes cutting through the trees, he wouldn’t know that there were about fifty cops over there. “That little stand of trees is pretty dense,” he said. “Good cover.”
“So, our killers had a barbecue here, then they stepped out of sight to do the deed?”
“That’s one possibility. Another was that they were different groups, and what was going on over there was hidden from the folks here.”
“But why be so close? Why risk being seen by the group over here?”
Cain shrugged. He looked up to see the blue-uniformed CSU team walking toward them. “This site, too, please,” Cain called.
The team leader nodded and started barking orders. Confident that CSU was on it, Perry and Cain walked back to the murder site. “Sage?” she asked. “Like turkey stuffing?”
“No, more like ritual sage. Burning it for the smell, for the smoke. Like Native Americans do, or those New Age kooks.”
“You think they were New Age kooks?”
“Insufficient data,” Cain said. “Maybe we had two different occult rituals going on.”
“That seems pretty far-fetched to me.”
“Maybe. Look, I’m no expert on the occult, but I’m pretty sure that the kinds of groups that burn sage are not the kinds of groups that burn frankincense.”
“Hm…” Cain could see that she was mulling it over and didn’t like it. “Different groups, huh?”
“Maybe. Definitely different rituals.”
“Do we need an expert on occult rituals?” Perry asked.
“Maybe. Let’s see what turns up first.”
Just then Perry’s cell phone rang. “Perry.”
Cain studied her face as she listened. She wasn’t what he would call pretty, although he knew others would disagree. Her hair was reddish brown, without a hint of body—it lay flat against her head like a helmet. And her hips were broader than he liked in a woman. He was glad of it really. He’d had a partner he was attracted to a few years back, and it was hell. He respected Perry. He even liked her. But he didn’t want to sleep with her. He realized in that moment that she might just be the best partner he’d ever had. And he felt something new for her, then—affection. The epiphany was uncomfortable, so he wiped his nose again and looked away.
