Chapter Eleven
"HELLO, Aeras." "Empousa."
The handmaiden sank to the marble floor in a graceful curtsey, and Mikki's mind frantically searched for something, anything, to say. She was supposed to focus on the elemental power as she called it. She drew another breath to calm herself. She drew a breath . . . air . . . which was really wind . . .
"I call to the circle the element Wind," she said, mentally crossing her fingers that she wasn't totally messing up. "It is what we breathe in when we are born. Without it we would all die." As Mikki had begun speaking, Aeras had risen from her deep curtsey. The handmaiden lifted her slender arms, closed her eyes, and tilted her head back. Mikki swallowed around the nervous dryness in her throat and continued. "When I think of Wind I think of movement and invisible power. It is a contradiction - a paradox. It cannot be contained, but it can be harnessed. It can gently fill a newborn's lungs, and it can destroy cities." Suddenly, the ethereal yellow silk that clothed Aeras began to lift and stir, and then, in a rush of white sound, wind whipped around the handmaiden like she stood in the vortex of a magick tornado. Wind moved against Mikki's skin, too, but not as violently. It felt caressing, causing her bare nipple to harden in response. Surprisingly, Mikki didn't feel embarrassed or exposed. Instead, the nakedness of her body seemed natural, and the fact that the element had come at her call and touched her body so lovingly, bolstered her confidence. She smiled and met Aeras's shining eyes. "Welcome, Wind!"
Then she turned to the right. Her steps were much surer as she approached the scarlet-clad handmaiden.
"Hello, Floga."
"Empousa," she said. And she, too, sank to the floor in a respectful curtsey.
"I call to the circle the element Flame." As Aeras had, Floga stood, lifting her arms and closing her eyes. Mikki thought the handmaiden's face look rapturously expectant, as if she was prepared to greet a lover. Inspired by the element's personification, Mikki continued, "Fire is passion and heat. It consumes, but it also feeds and warms. Without fire our nights would be dark and cold." Floga's glossy scarlet hair began to lift, and in a whirl of heat the girl's body became outlined by a luminous glow. Mikki could feel the heat radiate from Floga. It licked against her skin, too, causing a fine sheen of dewy sweat to glisten over her body. "Welcome Flame!"
When she turned to her right again she thought she caught a glimpse of a delicate silver thread of light stretching between Aeras and Floga.
"Hello, Nera."
"Empousa." Nera dropped to the floor. Her thick, blond-white hair covered her face like a wave.
"I call the element of Water to the circle. It surrounds us before we are born, and it nourishes us during our life. It cleans and purifies, feeds and soothes." Nera stood slowly, and Mikki watched as the voluptuous outline of her body appeared to liquefy. And then her hair really was sea foam and waves, and the blue of her silk robes rippled like the changing tide. Mikki was engulfed in a misty coolness that smelled of spring rains and warm, tropical beaches. "Welcome, Water!"
Mikki's feet felt incredibly light as she hurried to where Gii waited. And this time she clearly saw the sparkling silver ribbon that connected Aeras to Floga and now also Nera.
"Hello, Gii."
"Empousa." She curtseyed as had the other handmaidens.
"I call to the circle the element Earth." Mikki smiled fondly at Gii as the handmaiden stood, lifting her arms and awaiting the approach of the spirit of her element. "Earth is really our mother. It's as fertile and nurturing as farmland, as moist as soil and as dry as sand. It's home for all the other elements." Gii's mossy robes shifted and changed until they were more ivy than silk. Her dark hair seemed to lengthen, blanketing her shoulders and falling down her back with the richness of a newly ploughed field. Mikki's senses were filled with images of Earth. She smelled the sweetness of cut hay. She tasted ripe fruit and berries. She felt cradled in warmth and security, as if her mother's arms were once again around her. With a catch in her voice, Mikki said, "Welcome, Earth!"
"And now, Empousa, you must greet your own element," Gii said, pointing to the place at the center of the circle beside the sacred flame.
Mikki moved to the center of the circle. She closed her eyes and raised her arms, mimicking the other women.
"I call to the circle the element Spirit."
Then the handmaidens' voices flooded her thoughts and senses until Mikki couldn't tell if they were actually speaking or if they were only voices within her soul.
"Spirit is present everywhere," Aeras said in her sweet, clear voice.
"It is the great alchemist." Floga's voice was filled with passion.
"Spirit is the element that unites all others." Nera spoke with the sound of a cascading stream.
"It has the power to shape the very nature of all things," said Gii, in a loving mother's voice.
"Welcome, Spirit!" Mikki cried. There was a crackling snap, and the air within the temple sizzled with energy. Mikki opened her eyes to see that she stood in the middle of a circle ringed by four women who were bound together by dazzling gossamer threads of silver woven to create a boundary that pulsed with light and power. The flame burning beside her had taken on a lovely violet tint.
"Wow! It worked!"
The handmaidens laughed, filling the temple with sounds of feminine happiness. Their laughter was like music, and Mikki wanted to twirl and dance.
Dance, Empousa . . .
The silent words settled into Mikki's mind like a remembered dream. She didn't stop to question her next impulse or hesitate until she could second guess herself. Mikki danced. Within the circle she twirled and swayed. The handmaidens took up the tempo of her movements and began humming a seductive melody. She felt beautiful and powerful and utterly joyous. And she knew what her decision for the rest of her life would be. She would choose this world - this magickal life - and not because she was afraid of snapping out of it and finding out she was crazy. She chose this life because it had awakened a joy deep within her that she had never before experienced. Reality be damned! This was real enough for her.
Speak the words that will bind you to me, Empousa, commanded the voice within her head.
Automatically, Mikki answered the goddess. As she spoke, her own voice grew stronger and more confident.
"Hecate, Goddess of Crossroads, Beasts, and the Ebony Moon, I have cast your sacred circle and been given a chance at a new life - a new destiny. I stand on the threshold between my old life and my new . . ." Mikki hesitated, but only long enough for her to turn to face the violet-tinged flame. "My decision is that I am willing to become your Empousa."
"What two perfect words do you offer your goddess to bind you to me?" Hecate's somber voice hung heavy in the midst of the sacred circle.
Mikki stared into the spirit flame. She had no idea what words to speak. What could bind her to Hecate? What did her instincts tell her? She wasn't sure, but she knew what her heart was telling her. There were only two words that should ever bind one person to another . . .
"Love and trust," Mikki said.
"Then it shall be, Empousa. You are bound to me through blood and by love and trust!"
The violet flame leaped, shooting almost to the ceiling of the temple's dome.
"Blessed be your feet that have brought you on this path," Aeras said.
The Wind spirit held her hands out to her Empousa. Mikki grasped them, feeling a surge of energy swirl into her.
"Blessed be your sex, source of love and power," Floga cried.
Mikki retraced her path inside the circle to the spirit of Flame. When she took Floga's hands, power filled her with a rush of heat.
Nera's voice called her farther around the circle. "Blessed be your breasts, and the heart that beats within." The Water spirit's hands were a wash of cool energy that reminded Mikki of a deep, clear well.
Gii's blessing had her moving to the head of the circle. "Blessed be your lips that will speak the rituals of the goddess." Mikki clasped hands with the Earth spirit and felt the strength of ancient trees and ripe meadows enter her body.
Then, without needing to be prompted by anything except an innate feeling of rightness, Mikki returned to her place beside the spirit flame and whispered, "Blessed be my eyes that will see clearly the new path before me."
"The Empousa is mine, and I am hers - body, mind and spirit." Hecate's powerful voice filled the temple. "The ritual is complete; so mote it be!"
Suddenly Mikki was aware of a multitude of voices cheering in celebration. She looked beyond the circle to see what must be hundreds of women, young and old. They crowded the gardens around the temple and were all clapping and waving her way.
The watching crowd began to hum a wordless melody, and soon the seductive beat of drums joined the voices. Then the gathering of women danced, barefoot and exuberant, in the torch-lit garden of the goddess.
Intrigued, Mikki watched them frolic. In the shadowy gardens, they looked like beautiful night flowers waving in the breeze. Briefly, she wondered at why there were no men present, but the thought was fleeting and Gii's voice chased it completely from her mind.
"Close the sacred circle, Empousa, and we will join the people's celebration!" Gii said.
Before she had to ask, Aeras's soft voice lifted above the noise of the crowd like a warm summer breeze. "Walk in reverse order around the circle. Touch each of us in turn, and visualize the web of light fading away."
Smiling her appreciation, Mikki retraced her steps, lightly brushing her hand over each woman's head as she sank into a curtsey at the approach of the Empousa. She watched the woven thread of light unravel, and eventually, as she returned to her place in the center of the circle, it disappeared completely, leaving only the goddess's flame to burn a bright, but ordinary yellow.
Then Gii took one of her hands and Aeras another, and flanked by Earth and Wind, the newly christened Empousa was led to her people and the celebration that awaited its priestess.
The Guardian watched from beneath an ancient oak. The lighting of Hecate's temple had drawn him. When it blazed again in the heart of the realm, he had been pulled to it unerringly, even though his body was wracked with the pain of newly awakened muscle and sinew. He had wanted to kneel beside the flame - to again beg the goddess's forgiveness and to ask that he be allowed to resume all the duties that had been his before he had broken faith with Hecate. But before he could move, the night breeze shifted and brought her scent to him. His nostrils had flared and his bronze skin quivered.
The priestess approached.
He knew it was she by her scent - spices and roses distilled by the heat of her soft skin. He recognized it because he drank the fragrance of her in his dreams, and, waking, he had touched that skin when he held her in his arms as the power of the goddess transported them to Hecate's realm. He closed his eyes and leaned against the tree. He had frightened her then, though he had not meant to. His awakening had been abrupt, and the beast within him that seemed at constant war with his humanity had been too strong, too eager to capture and possess. Remembering, his body shuddered and his heart ached.
He should go, retreat to his lair and prepare himself for tomorrow. He had long been absent from the Realm of the Rose, and he could already tell that all was not as it should be. He must be diligent - focused - he must resume guardianship of the realm as was his duty; and, if the goddess was merciful, he would also be allowed to use all his magickal gifts again.
But he stayed.
When his keen hearing detected the light tread of her feet, he spoke a command in a language long dead, and the lanterns that hung from the massive tree's limbs instantly extinguished, wrapping him in shadow. Under the thick ridge of his brow, his expressive eyes opened in time to see Floga rush into the temple. He paid little heed to the Fire spirit though, or to any of the other handmaidens. Like a bewitching Siren, she commanded his attention.
He watched her.
Her awkwardness was obvious to him, as he was certain it was to the handmaidens, too. They were accustomed to an Empousa who moved with practiced confidence, who knew each ritual of the goddess so well she could perform them as if it was as natural to her as breath and heartbeat.
This woman was different.
The handmaidens had to prompt her on how to cast the sacred circle. He saw her overcome her initial hesitation as she moved from element to element, calling Wind, Flame, Water, Earth, and Spirit alive again within the goddess's temple. Despite her inexperience, her power was evident in the tightly woven thread that bound the circle together.
She danced.
His breath went thick. A low growl rumbled almost inaudibly in his throat. Lust surged, hot and insistent through his body in time with the beat of his heart. His inhumanly keen eyesight became blessing and curse. Because of it he could see the sweat-slickened flush of her naked skin as she moved in a seductive dance around the circle. The nipple of her exposed breast was tightly puckered, elemental and alluring. He turned his massive head away from the tempting sight, pressing his forehead into the rough skin of the oak until the tips of his ebony horns rested against the tree. The betraying breeze flirted around him, once again bringing him the scent of her - woman and roses, oil and spice, now heightened by the heat and sweat of her. He snarled a curse, damning his preternatural senses.
Goddess help him, the longing was still there.
Why? He raised his hands. They became claws as razor-edged talons dug into the thick bark of the tree. Why hadn't his long imprisonment cured him of this terrible, futile desire?
He heard Hecate's voice commanding the new Empousa to bind herself to the goddess with ritualistic words.
"Love and trust . . ."
She spoke the words, and the night took them and carried them to him so he felt the power of her oath fold over his skin.
Why had she chosen those two words? For countless generations, Hecate's Empousa had always chosen words such as knowledge . . . power . . . beauty . . . strength . . . success . . . to bind herself to the goddess. Yet to complete the self-initiation ritual, this Empousa had chosen love and trust.
The Guardian bared his teeth. What did a priestess know of love and trust! What did any mortal woman know of such things!
He sensed the crowd approaching the temple and commanded more shadow and night to surround him. The women of the realm could not see him as they passed the great oak, but they sensed his presence and averted their eyes from the darkness that hid him, nervously making a wide path around the tree. When they shouted with joy at the completion of the ritual and began to welcome her with song and dance, the Guardian felt as if he had become a great island of misery amidst an ocean of rejoicing.
And still he could not stop himself from looking at her again. She was closing the circle. The changing light of the goddess's flame caressed her naked skin. Her body enticed him as she acknowledged each of the elements and bid them depart. Without conscious thought, his claws tightened on the tree, slashing deep grooves into the ancient bark.
In response to the flexing of his muscles, pain shot through his arms and chest. He welcomed it. The pain reminded him of his banishment and the reason for it. He had been bespelled for generations because of his weakness. What perfect irony. He was a beast. He had physical strength that no mortal man could match, yet weakness had caused him to betray his duty, and, ultimately, himself.
Not again. I will not allow it to happen again.
Then his mind cleared as a new thought formed. Perhaps all of this - the dreams of her, the awakening and now the return of the agony of his desire - perhaps it was all part of the goddess's test.
Yes . . . he straightened, sheathing the daggers that were his claws. It did make sense. Hecate was providing him the opportunity to regain her sacred trust. He was being tempted so he could prove to her that it would not happen again.
Never again would he betray his goddess and his realm.
He would perform his goddess-appointed duties as Guardian of the Realm of the Rose. And when it was time for Beltane's Spring Ritual, he would complete his charge, sending this new Empousa to meet her destiny.
With a mighty effort of will, the Guardian repressed the longing within him. He would not give in to his weakness again. For countless generations he had protected Hecate's magickal realm. He had been ever vigilant. He had been tireless in his devotion. And he had been alone, even during the brief moments when he had imagined that his solitude might come to an end.
He remembered the pain of discovering just how wrong he had been and knew that the misery of that rejection had been greater than all the years of loneliness that had preceded it.
What the last Empousa had said had been true. He was a beast. A woman might become fond of him, might treat him with compassion, as she would a favorite cat or an especially loyal hound, but a woman could never truly love a beast. It mattered little that the goddess had gifted him with the heart and soul of a man. The heart and the soul were within the body of a beast. It was his destiny to be alone, and destiny could not be changed.
With one last look at the new Empousa, he turned away. Duty. That must be his life.
But part of my duty is to ensure the Empousa's safety . . . to make certain she is well cared for . . . The man within him whispered temptation. Would any of the handmaidens remember that the Empousa must eat and drink after the ritual to ground herself? Of course not. And she . . . He paused and glanced over the corded muscle of his shoulder at where laughing women surrounded her. She was so inexperienced she had to be led in the casting of a circle. She would not know that she must ground herself and use food and drink to replenish her strength. Again, he forced his gaze from the Empousa. Snarling a hasty command, he drew darkness closely about him and made his way unseen from the temple celebration. When he was clear of the crowd, he picked up his pace, clenching his teeth against the pain that radiated from leg muscles that had just the day before been dead stone. It is only another part of my duty as Guardian to order her meal prepared and to be certain that she partake of it. Yes, only another part of my duty . . .
His cloven hooves thudded against the soft ground with a shy, secretive voice that seemed to echo the word liar . . . liar . . . liar . . .