I leapt to my feet. "Becca! Stop!"
For a moment I thought the little girl had heard me, but Becca's pause was only to grab at something in the Lake. Then she was on her way again.
"Becca, stop! Hold on!" I cried as I galloped down the hill. Dierna was standing up now, but the shoreline curved inward here and she was too far away. I saved the rest of my breath for running as I saw the toddler stand up, reach towards the water with a glad cry, and fall in.
I felt a flicker of wonder that time, which a few moments before had seemed to drag so endlessly, should now be passing in such a swift whirl. Becca had disappeared beneath the surface. Grass and shrubs flashed past, and then I was thrashing through the shallows, reaching out as the little girl came up, flailing, and snatching her into my arms.
Becca gave one hiccup, coughed up water, and then began to scream.
In moments, it seemed, we were surrounded by priestesses. I relinquished the child to the little dark Lake-woman who had been brought to Avalon to be her nurse and sighed with relief as the sound of Becca's cries faded away. But in the next moment I realized that someone was still yelling.
Dierna was crouched on the ground, whimpering as Ganeda berated her with a violence all the more shocking because her body was as rigid as stone. Only her hair, escaping from its coiled braids, jerked and trembled. I stared, half-expecting it to burst into flame.
"Do you understand me? Your sister could have drowned! And with your poor mother lying ill—do you want to kill her too, by destroying her child?"
She is worried about Sian, I told myself, but even the other priestesses looked shocked at the venom in Ganeda's tone.
Dierna shook her head, grinding her cheek into the earth in an agony of negation. Beneath the freckles her face was as white as bone.
Just as fear had moved me to save Becca, compassion compelled me into action now. A swift step brought me to Dierna's side. I bent, cradling the girl in my arms as if the assault from which I strove to protect her was physical.
"She meant no harm! She was playing—it was too much responsibility for so young a child!" I looked up at the High Priestess, beginning to tremble myself as that furious gaze fixed on me instead. I used to wonder if my dead mother had resembled her sister—I hoped that Rian had never looked the way Ganeda did now.
"She must learn discipline! She is of the sacred line of Avalon!" Ganeda exclaimed.
So am I, Aunt—so am I! I thought, but my own mouth was going dry with fear. Once I hoped that you would love me, but I don't think you even know how!
"Get away from her, before I forget to be grateful to you for saving the little one. You cannot stand between Dierna and her punishment!"
Dierna gasped and clutched at my waist. I tightened my own grip, staring up at the older woman defiantly.
"She is only eight years old! If you frighten her to death how can she understand?"
"And you are sixteen!" hissed Ganeda. "Do you think that gives you the wisdom of the Lady of Avalon? You should have stayed with your father in the Roman lands!"
I shook my head. I belonged here! But Ganeda chose to take it as submission.
"Gwenlis, take the child away!"
One of the younger priestesses stepped forwards, eyeing the High Priestess uncertainly. For a moment I resisted, then it occurred to me that the sooner Dierna was out of earshot of her grandmother's wrath, the better it would be. I gave the girl a quick hug, and thrust her into Gwenlis's arms.
"And lock her into the storage shed!" Ganeda went on.
"No!" I exclaimed, getting to my feet again. "She will be afraid!"
"It is you who should be afraid! Do not flout my will lest I lock you up as well!"
I smiled, for I had already been through more taxing ordeals in my training.
Ganeda took a furious step towards me. "Don't think I haven't noticed how you have been spoiling the child, interfering with my discipline, plotting to steal her affection away from me!"
"I hardly need to do that! You will earn her hatred yourself if you treat her this way!"
"You will have nothing to do with Dierna in the future, do you understand me? Or with Becca either!" Ganeda's anger had turned suddenly cold, and for the first time I felt fear. "Hear me all of you, and bear witness—" the High Priestess turned to fix the others with that icy gaze. "This is the will of the Lady of Avalon!"
Even before Ganeda finished speaking, I had decided to defy her. But a stern order sent me back up the hill to finish trimming the hedge, and it was not until the still hour just after dusk had fallen, when the folk of Avalon gathered for their evening meal, that I was able to open the door to the storage shed unobserved.
Swiftly I slipped inside and took the shivering child in my arms.
"Eilan?" The little girl clutched at me, sniffling. "It's cold here, and dark, and I think there are rats…"
"Well, then, you must talk to the Rat Spirit and ask her to keep them away," I said bracingly.
Dierna shuddered and shook her head.
"Don't you know how? We will do it together, then, and promise her some food for her clan—"
"Nobody has brought me any food," whispered the girl. "I'm hungry."
I was glad that the darkness hid my frown. "Are you? Well, perhaps I can bring you some of my dinner, and an offering for the Rat Spirit too. We will put it outside, and ask her to take her people out there…"
With a sigh of relief I felt the child begin to relax in my arms, and started the familiar litany of counted breathing and relaxation that would put us in touch with the Otherworld.
I had forgotten that after dinner came the story-telling. The bread and cheese made an awkward lump in the corner of my shawl, but even when I went out to the privies there had been too many people around for me to get away. Certainly I would be missed if I tried to leave now, and my absence would attract just the sort of notice I wished to avoid.
The long hall was lit by torches, and a fire blazed on the hearth, for even in early autumn the nights were chill. But I could not help imagining how Dierna must be feeling, all alone in the cold dark.
On the first day of the week the stories told in the hall of Avalon were about the gods. By now, I had heard most of them, but as I forced my attention back to the Druid who was speaking, I realized that I had not encountered this one before.
"Our most ancient wisdom teaches that 'All the gods are one God, and all the goddesses one Goddess, and there is one Initiator.' But what does that mean? The Romans say that all the gods are the same, and it is only that different peoples call them by different names. Thus they say that Cocidius and Belatucadros are the same as their Mars, and call Brigantia and Sulis by the name of their goddess Minerva.
"It is true that these deities care for many of the same things. But we teach that they are like pieces of Roman glass set one behind the other. In that place where all gods are One, all colours are contained in the pure light of heaven. But when that white light passes through one piece of glass it shows one colour, and a second where it strikes another, and only where the glass overlaps do we see a third tone that partakes of both of them.
"It is the same in this world, where the gods show a multitude of faces to humankind. To the untutored eye those colours may all seem much the same, but vision is often a matter of what one has learned how to see…"
I blinked, wondering what else might be explained by this philosophy. I had had to learn how to recognize the aura that surrounded each living thing, and to read the signs of coming weather in the clouds. I was not as good yet at reading faces, although my aunt's scowl needed little interpretation. Surreptitiously I made sure the food in my shawl had not slipped out, wishing I could teach Dierna how to see through the darkness. Still, tonight the moon was almost full, and the woven wicker walls of the storeshed should let in some light.
"And there are some gods for whom the Romans have no analogue at all. They say that it is Mercurius of the crossroads who guides the traveller. But we have a g
oddess who watches over the roads of the world, and it is our belief that she was here even before the Britons came into this land. We call her Elen of the Ways."
I sat up, for that was very close to the name they called me here—Eilan…
"In body, she is tall and strong," the bard-priest continued, "and it is said that she loves good hounds, and the elder tree. All roads that men travel are under her protection, both the paths that cross the land and the ways of the sea. Traders pray to her for protection, and where she passes the crops grow tall.
"Perhaps it was she who first showed our ancestors the way across the sea to this island, and certainly she is the one who teaches us how to safely cross the marshes that surround Avalon, for above all she loves those places where the waters mingle with the land. We call upon her as well when we seek to go between the worlds, for she is also Mistress of the Hidden Ways…"
I remembered how reality had shifted around me when we passed through the mists to Avalon. Surely that was one of the roads that Elen ruled. Dizzied by memory, I could almost understand how it had been done. Then the moment passed, and I realized that the Druid had finished tuning his little lap harp and was about to sing.
"Oh Lady of the moonpath bright,
and sea-lanes laid by sun's fair rays,
the dragon-paths from height to height,
and all the holy hidden ways,
Oh Lady Elen of the Ways…"
I blinked as the flame of the torch before me separated suddenly and rayed out in spokes of light. For a moment I was simultaneously aware of their infinite potentiality and the eternal balance of their radiant centre, and understood that there was a place where all the roads were One. But the bard was still singing—
"From heath and hill to marsh and fen
Thy dogs shall guide us all our days;
Through crooked paths laid down by men
Sweet Lady show us all the ways,
Oh Lady Elen of the Ways…"
I thought of Eldri, and smiled at the image of the fluffy white dog trying to tug some poor confused soul up a mountain. But I knew how many times the little dog's unquestioning devotion had steadied me when Lady Ganeda swore I would never be worthy of becoming a priestess of Avalon. Could this new goddess show me the way to my destiny?
"When vision fades and courage fails
May thy light lead us from the maze;
When neither strength nor sense avails,
Let thy love teach the heart new ways,
Oh Lady Elen of the Ways…"
The harp-notes died away in a sweet ripple of sound. People began to stir from the trance into which the music, or the good dinner, had sent them. Now, in the confusion as the group broke up to prepare for bed, was the time to take Dierna her food.
Carefully I circled around behind the privies, pulling the other end of my shawl up to hide my pale face from the moonlight. The moon was not yet high, and the storage shed stood in shadow. I let the shawl drop with a sigh of relief, but as I touched the door my belly tensed once more, for it swung freely beneath my hand.
Surely, I thought desperately, I had secured the latch when I crept away before! I slipped inside, calling softly, but beyond a faint scratching from behind the baskets of nuts, there was no sound, and no sign of Dierna apart from my sash. Dierna was right, one part of my mind informed me. There are rats in here…
The other part was speculating frantically. Perhaps Ganeda had taken pity on the child and released her, or one of the other priestesses might have stepped in. But I knew that the High Priestess never modified her judgments, and none of the others had the courage to gainsay her. When I am grown, I thought grimly, "I will…
This time I took care to latch the door behind me. Then, forcing myself not to run, I sought the snug little house where the smaller children slept, asking, as an excuse, whether they were playing with Eldri there. But neither the dog nor Dierna were to be seen, and the children were unusually quiet, as if the thought of her punishment oppressed them all.
I bade them a hasty good night and returned to the House of Maidens. I should give the alarm now, but I trembled at the thought of the beating Dierna would receive for running away. Eldri jumped up, whining, as she sensed my anxiety, and I hushed her. Then I stilled. Eldri was no scent-hound, but she had proven her intelligence. Perhaps there was another way.
To wait, while the other girls put on their nightrobes and brushed out their hair, made a final visit to the privies and blew out the lamps and turned and coughed until sleep took them, was an agony. But after an eternity had passed, all was still. And still I waited, until I felt my own eyelids growing heavy. Then I slid out of bed, and hiding my shoes beneath my shawl, tip-toed towards the door.
"What is it?"
I stifled a gasp at Aelia's sleepy question.
"Eldri has to go out again," I whispered, pointing to the little dog, who unless told to stay put, was always half a step behind me. "Go back to sleep."
But instead, Aelia sat up, rubbing her eyes and staring. "Why are you carrying your shoes?" she whispered. "And your heavy shawl? Are you doing something that will get you into trouble?"
For a moment I could say nothing. Then it came to me that perhaps I had better let someone know where I had gone, and I could trust Aelia not to betray me.
"It's Dierna who's in trouble—" Swiftly I gave her a whispered account of what had occurred. "I think Eldri can find her," I finished. "At least I have to try!"
"Oh Eilan, be careful!" Aelia breathed when I had finished. "I will worry every moment until you return!" She reached out to me and I bent to give her a quick hug. Then she sighed and subsided back into her pillow, and with my heart thumping so hard I thought it should wake them all, I let myself out of the door.
By now the moon was fully risen, limning the hall and outbuildings in harsh black and white. I would have to be swift, for there was little cover. I darted from shadow to shadow, Eldri trotting behind me, until I reached the storeshed once more.
Breathing hard, I took up the sash and held it under Eldri's nose.
"This is Dierna's—Dierna—you know her! Find Dierna, Eldri, find her now!"
For a moment the dog sniffed at the cloth. Then she whined and turned towards the door. I held it open, then slipped out myself, easing it shut behind me as Eldri began to move purposefully across the yard.
The dog's certainty lifted my spirits. As we passed the last of the buildings, I let out a breath I had not known I was holding, and as I breathed in again, felt a hint of the same tingling tickle across my skin that I had noticed sometimes when the priestesses were working with power. I hesitated, peering around me. It was not yet time for the full-moon ritual, nor was it one of the great festivals. Perhaps the Druids were engaged in some working; I did not know their ceremonies. But surely something was going on, for the night was full of magic. With luck, no one would have time to realize I had gone.
Nose to the ground, Eldri moved around the base of the Tor. Dierna must be heading towards the higher ground to the east—at this season it was dry enough to cross into the pasturelands beyond. But though the sky above the Tor was clear, beyond it mist lay heavy on land and water alike, so that Avalon seemed to rise from a sea of cloud.
In a ground-fog it was easy to lose one's bearings, and even if Dierna avoided the Lake, there were bogs and hollows aplenty that could be more treacherous still. Had I not had the dog to guide me, I would never have dared this path in darkness, and even so, I watched my footing, for the dog could dance easily over ground that beneath my weight would give way.
Now the first wisps of mist were curling across the path. Was it even possible to pass beyond them, I wondered, without the spell? And if I did so, would I find myself forever banished to the outside world?
"Elen of the Ways," I whispered, "show me my path!" I took another step and a shift in the wind brought the mist billowing around me, catching the light so that I was surrounded by moonglow.
I called to the do
g, for I could see nothing but nebulous light, and waited, shivering, until Eldri's pale shape appeared as if it had precipitated from the mist. I tied one end of Dierna's sash to the dog's collar, but in this strange state, in which air and water, light and dark were intermingled, as the druids said all elements had been joined at the beginning of the world, there was no sense of progress. There was only the tingling touch of power, that grew stronger as we went on.
The mist continued to brighten, and then suddenly thinned. I stopped short, staring. Ahead, a pale light that came neither from sun nor moon showed me trees whose leaves were edged with brightness, and meadows starred with flowers. Just where I stood the path branched into three. The left-hand path curved around and disappeared back into the darkness. The narrow path on the right twisted its way over a small hill, and it seemed to me that when I turned my head in that direction, I could hear the sweet ringing of a bell.
But the middle way was broad and bright and fair, and it was towards that path that Eldri was pulling me.
Fear was replaced by a great wonder. Before me rose a venerable oak tree. Gazing up at its mighty branches, I knew that I had passed beyond the borders of Avalon, or any land inhabited by men, for surely the Druids would have made an enclosure around such a tree as this and hung offerings upon its branches. I touched the trunk, so wide that three people together would scarcely be able to embrace it, and felt a thrumming in the wood, as if the life of the tree pulsed beneath my hand.
"My greetings to you, Father Oak. Will you extend your protection to me while I walk in this realm?" I whispered, bowing, and shivered as the leaves whispered in answer.
I took a careful breath, focusing my senses as I had been trained to do. In my first days on Avalon everything had seemed much more alive than it did in the outside world. Now that sense was intensified a hundredfold, and I understood that as the moon was to the sun, so was the magic of Avalon to this realm which was its source and its original.
The sash had come loose from Eldri's collar, but it no longer mattered. The little dog was a glimmering shape that danced ahead of me, and white flowerets starred the track where she had passed. Did I see the dog this way because we were in Faerie, I wondered, or was it only in Faerie that her true nature was revealed?
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