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“Hey, we do what we have to.” Suddenly wanting to get away from the conversation, I said my good-byes and hung up.
“Getting too close for comfort?” Morio said, glancing at me.
I rubbed his arm. “Just overwhelmed, and not sure what tonight holds for us. I’m afraid. I don’t know what reserves I have left.”
“More than you know, babe. More than you know.” And with that, he turned up the music as we sped along the freeway.
By evening, my spirits were back up. I was dressed in my priestess robes, and Morio was in his ceremonial kimono, and the drummers were gathered around the bale fire, their rhythms filling the air with anticipation and the summons to ritual. We’d spent the day eating and visiting. Morio had turned into a fox and let the Fae children pet him, and then we’d gone swimming in the hot springs and taken a much-needed nap. I was starting to relax and fall into the rhythm of the drums. My feet were tapping and I wanted to dance, so I moved to the edge of the fire and joined the other women who were letting the beat speak through their bodies.
The energy was on the rise—Beltane was the night of the rut, the night when the King Stag bugled for his mate. Beltane was the night when the gods fucked their brains out, when the Lord of the Forest impregnated the goddess incarnate. The Fae, usually rather reserved, let loose on this day, and all our wild, primal bloodlines came forth.
There were couples and groups fucking on the grass near the fire circle, women in the wild throes of orgasm, men rutting into them, growling, snuffling like Herne the Hunter, who lurked in the depths of the woods…like Pan—Old Shag of the meadows—who frolicked with the nymphs and celebrated the carnality of the body as it blended with the sublime musings of the soul.
Morio leaned up against my back, wrapping his arms around me, moving with me as the drums led us deeper into the labyrinth of the sacred night. And then the horns trumpeted as Titania, Aeval, and Morgaine made their way down to the commons. They were followed by Bran, Mordred, and Arturo.
As they passed, their people bowed low, honoring the queens, honoring their power and lineage and strength. I knelt at Aeval’s feet as she stopped before me.
“Rise, my child. You and your priest accompany me.” And so I rose and took hold of my staff. We followed as they passed out of the common area, into the undergrowth. Tonight, the forest seemed to part for us as we walked through, and we made no noise, silently gliding through the woodland.
The echo of the drums followed us, and as we journeyed, animals joined in at our heels. A stag, pure white, followed Morio, and several stray cats cloistered at my feet. An owl flew down to land on Aeval’s shoulder, and a raven perched on Morgaine’s shoulder. Titania held out her hand and a mountain lion crept out of the bushes, padding softly by the Queen of Light and Morning.
As we continued deeper into the forest, the moon rose full and silver above us, and I caught my breath. I could feel the Moon Mother over my shoulder, calling me. Tonight was the Hunt. I’d never missed a Hunt since I’d been accepted into her order as a witch, and now she was riding me hard. The urge to let go and fly with her was almost too strong to bear.
I was fighting the pressure when we broke through into a clearing—a Faerie ring, with fly agarics the size of my fist encircling the meadow. In the center, a fire crackled, kindled from the nine sacred woods. The smell of yew was strong in my nose, and I felt so deeply at home that it scared me. My roots had grown in strongly during my time out here at Talamh Lonrach Oll, and I realized I could breathe here. I could let down my hair, let out my worries, and focus on my connection with my lady.
Aeval stepped into the Circle, and Titania joined her. Morgaine stayed outside with us, waiting. Mordred and Arturo backed away. Bran came close but did not cross the line.
Aeval walked up to the fire and then turned. She tapped her staff three times on the ground, and a sound like thunder raced through the clearing. The next thing I knew, Derisa was standing there. High Priestess to the Moon Mother. The woman who had taken my oath when I first pledged as a witch, and the woman who had again taken my oath when I pledged into the Priestesshood. They kissed one another on the cheek, and then Derisa kissed Titania, who stood to one side, tall and regal, glowing like a memory of sunlight in the depths of the night.
A gust of wind blew through, the scents of violet and narcissus, of peach and musk and newly mown grass filling the air. I fell into the fragrance, letting it buoy me even further away from the events of the past days. It ran through me, a series of little explosions, like foreplay.
Aeval and Derisa motioned to Morgaine, and she entered the Circle. She slowly walked up to them and knelt at their feet. I wondered how much that cost her pride, but she said nothing, just kissed their hands as they extended them. Morgaine gave one glance back at me, and I saw the jealousy in her eyes, but she said nothing. She stepped over to the fire and waited.
And then Derisa turned to Morio and me and motioned us in. We both stepped forward, and when we reached her side, we knelt. I kissed her hand, then Aeval’s, and Morio followed suit. As I stood, Derisa smiled and kissed me, long and deep, so that I was swirling in her passion.
“And so, once again we come to a turning point, my lovely Camille. You are priestess, yes, and doing well in your training, but there is another step you now must take. You will eventually become the High Priestess of the Dark Mother, even as I am High Priestess of the Bright Mother. Before you can begin to train toward that direction, you and your priest must show your courage and lead the Hunt.”
Lead the Hunt?
I swallowed. I knew that running at the helm of the Hunt was reserved for the bravest warriors and those in the Moon Mother’s favor, but that was about all I understood. I’d always run with the other witches, and then—the past few months—the other priestesses.
“What do I need to know?” I asked.
“The question is not what you need to know, but what you’re willing to do and to face. Tonight will test you, both of you.” Derisa stepped back as a distant baying echoed from the sky. “The Moon Mother, she comes.”
Morgaine reached up, her eyes glassy, and I recognized that stare. “You run with the Hunt?”
“I am a daughter of the moon, even if it is over here, Earthside,” she said, smiling softly.
I gazed up at the heavens. The baying of hounds was louder, and behind it the shrieks of night birds echoed, along with the thunder of running feet, the pounding of drums, and a cadence of song, in a language long forgotten, by women who could weave magic with their voices.
First came the Moon Mother, a silhouette in silver, with a bow and quiver slung over her back. She was beautiful and luminous, and her energy called to me, beckoning like a lover long lost. Behind her came the bears and panthers, the stag and wolf and all animals who raced under her open skies.
Morgaine was crying now, and I realized that I was, too. I reached up with one hand to the Moon Mother, my other hand firmly grasping Morio’s. He said nothing, but his eyes were wide. As my lady passed, the song and drum growing louder, she reached out and caught hold of my hand, pulling both Morio and me onto the web, into her wake.
As we jumped, landing on the astral with her, I gazed up at my beloved Moon Mother. She had come to me when I was bruised and beaten in Hyto’s lair, and while she could not free me, she’d taken me out, taken me off to tear up the world while he abused my body. She’d wrapped me in her arms, and kissed my tears, and offered me solace.
And now she bent down from her terrible height and brushed my lips with her own, and then she kissed Morio, and her eyes were gleaming with silver light even as her body thrummed with a magnetic pull.
