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The words were familiar on my tongue. I’d sworn them the night the Moon Mother accepted me into her fold. “I do swear . . .”
“Will you heal for me?”
“I do swear . . .”
“Will you kill for me?”
“I do swear . . .”
“Will you die for me?”
“I do swear . . .”
“Then lead on, lead on. Let the Hunt begin, and if you catch your quarry, my priestess you shall become!”
With a loud cry, she pushed me forward and, holding Morio with one hand, I sprang to action, racing across the sky. My Lady ran by my side. Her laughter spurred me on. All I could think of was catching my prey as the cries of the Hunters echoed behind us.
Then I saw him—my quarry, down below. The Black Beast stared as I spiraled down toward him, leading the frothing hounds and huntsmen. He leapt onto the astral and began to race ahead of me, his hooves beating a cadence against the stars and the clouds as we gave chase.
Across the night we pursued our quarry, the glowing moon shining her light on us as the Moon Mother sang her battle song. Lost in her glamour, lost in the brilliant delight of the Hunt, I scarcely noticed the waning night. Morio kept pace with me, his eyes glazed, shifting into his demonic form as we ran.
And then, sometime shortly before dawn, but long, long past midnight, the Black Beast slowed and turned. He was panting, his breath coming in rough, jagged gasps. I slowed, and my Lady slowed beside me. She motioned for the train of hunters to wait as I stepped forward, Morio close behind.
All my doubts fell by the wayside, all my sorrow vanished. This was a time of joy, a time of triumph. The Hunt was nearly over; only there was no solitary victor. We would all win. Morio began a low chant—the Chant of the Dead. A necromancer’s spell I had just begun to learn, the chant was exactly the magic I needed.
I unfastened my cape and let it drop, then slipped out of my clothes. Naked, holding only the unicorn horn, I stepped forward, the astral breeze caressing my body, brushing over me like a hundred light fingertips.
The Black Beast raised his head, showing his chest to me.
“The day is done, night comes to the soul.”
Morio’s voice rang clear behind me, his magic buoying me up and giving me strength. I lifted the horn and gazed into those ancient eyes. They were begging for release, rebirth. The cycle was nearly complete, a new cycle ready to begin.
“The forest dims, the light fades into dusk.”
“Priestess, do not fail me,” the Beast commanded.
“What once was fractured will now be made whole.”
And I felt it—he was tired, he was old beyond counting, and this body was wearing out. The phoenix needed his fire. I stepped forward.
“What is left, but a shallow and empty husk.”
I gauged my target, searching for his beating pulse. There, against his chest. A mark no larger than a coin, brilliant gold circled with silver.
“There is no room for grief nor for doubt.”
“Blessed is the Mother of the Moon and all who walk her paths,” the Lord of the Dahns whispered. “Blessed is she who gives me release in the Rite of Renewal.”
How could I do this? And yet, my hand was steady and I felt the power of the four Elementals within the horn harken to my silent call. Wind, Water, Flame, the Land—they rose up and combined their powers. Eriskel, the jindasel of the horn, who had once been a part of the Black Beast himself, added his own strength, focusing all of the energy through me.
“Release is sweet, the heart must fly free.”
I bit my lip, but didn’t waver. There was no going back. This was a one-way ticket and I was driving the train. I inhaled a sharp breath and gazed at my quarry.
“This life is over, the light fades out.”
“Join the Hunt! Ride with the Moon! Give yourself over to shadow and joy and passion and the magic that is the glowing Mother who watches over every one of us. I release you from your physical bonds. I release you from your shackles. Run with the Hunt this night by my side, run free, and run wild!” I lifted the horn and aimed.
