But beyond Ena’s concerns about her own path, she was also nervous about the ceremony itself. Although she had attended several Summonings for other witches, including her sister’s, she did not know what would happen when she met Gaia, and that unknown weighed on her. Even the witches who went through it only came out with fuzzy memories of the event. What if it was horribly painfulandshe was given a Gift that required her to milk goats all day, like her friend Thyla? Thyla didn’t seem to mind using herglacioto chill the milk, but Ena would go crazy if that was her path. She didn’t know why, but she needed something…different. She just didn’t know how to get it.
For the last several years, it was as if she’d been frozen in place. She didn’t even remember the last time she’d felt truly challenged and…alive.
A warm summer sunset illuminating a pair of striking green eyes flashed unbidden through her mind.
Okay, that was a lie. Shedidremember, even though she often tried to forget. And now that the Summoning approached, she dreaded the inertia of her path. What if she never felt that way again? What if she remained this stuck forever, and her Gift was the last thread sewing her firmly in place?
“You should go upstairs and get ready. I already filled the tub for you,” Greya said, breaking Ena out of her spiraling thoughts. “We’ve only got an hour before dusk. I’ll come get you when it’s time and we’ll walk to the Grove together, okay?”
“Okay. Thanks, sis,” Ena replied, giving her a small smile.
Leaving her basket with the psilosnake head on the table, Ena left her sister to the rest of the preparations for the Summoning as she went to climb the creaky stairs to her bedroom. The sun was falling fast and she needed to prepare her body to meet her Goddess.
As she entered her small room containing only a bed, a side table, and an armoire with an old, tarnished mirror on the front, she untied her dark-green cloak and tossed it on her unkempt bed. Quickly disrobing down to only her shift, she walked down the hall to the bathing room to find a steaming-hot bath awaiting her in a large copper tub. Silently thanking her sister yet again, Ena took off her shift and sank into the water.
As was customary before a Summoning, the bath was filled with marjoram, cedar berries, and lemongrass—a potent combination meant to cleanse and purify her body in preparation for the sacred rite. As she methodically scrubbed her body using a pumice stone, she tried to focus on each action as a way to quiet her mind.These are my feet. This is my stomach. Now I’m rinsing my hair.
But she couldn’t stop the depressing, unbidden thought that soon, even though she would be different, everything would still remain the same.
Chapter Two
Enastoodinthecenter of the Sacred Grove. Towering evergreen trees guarded the edges of the large clearing, their steadfast presence a balm to her nerves. The skirt of her white silk gown, made especially for this occasion by her own hand, fluttered in the gentle breeze. It was long-sleeved with a modest neckline, but it fit her like a glove. The waist was tapered to accentuate her curves, and the edges of the sleeves were detailed lace, as was the neckline and hem. A long row of buttons went all the way up the back, and for once, she wore a decorative, lace-detailed corset underneath rather than a bodice over top.
She looked up at the sky through the gap in the trees to see that the sun was setting, casting the sky in a dusky purple, but around her, it was already dark in the woods. She Knew animals were beginning to stir beyond where she could see, emerging and prowling as night began its descent.
A giant bonfire sparked and crackled behind her, lighting up the sea of faces encircling her, watching her—waiting. She had spent the last half hour intricately braiding her long, dark-brown hair into a tight bun, knowing it would likely slip loose anywaybefore the Summoning was complete. Regardless, she felt beautiful, strong, and strangely calm as she looked out on the faces of her Coven, men and women she’d known her whole life, who stood around her in a circle with their hands joined. They each wore a black, hooded robe that hid their faces and bodies from Gaia. Ena was to be the sole focus tonight. Looking to her left to where Greya stood, she gave a slight smile of reassurance, letting her sister know she was okay. She couldn’t make out her face, but she Knew Greya smiled back.
As the last sliver of the sun dipped below the horizon, she turned to face Heran, who stood beside her in the center of the circle. The matriarch of the Coven smiled kindly at her. Her wrinkled face was softened by the firelight, but her gray eyes were sharp and cunning as ever. Her gray- and brown-streaked hair was tied back in a low knot at the nape of her neck, but her strong voice rang out across the clearing, at odds with her aged appearance.
“Kneel before Gaia, child,” she said, as she took Ena’s hands and helped lower her to her knees.
Ena lowered herself to her knees, facing Heran, who reached behind her to accept two silver ceremonial chalices in her hands from another witch, who promptly returned to the circle. One chalice, decorated with an upside down crescent moon above three teardrops, a symbol of the blessing to come, contained the blood-red mixture concocted by Greya. Ena had been there herself when Greya had slaughtered the goat, harvested its blood, and set it to boil with cloves and dandelion root over a fire made from ash wood.
Ena closed her eyes and tilted her face up as Heran slowly poured the contents of the chalice over her forehead. She felt the thick blood drip down her face, smelling of iron and herbs. She resisted the urge to lick it away from her lips and instead pursed them tighter so none could get inside.
“Mother Gaia, Giver of life and Bringer of death, she who maintains the Turning of the seasons and celestial bodies, and balances the Light with the Dark, accept this witch to your service, so she may use her true Gift as you intend.”
Ena slowly opened her eyes, blinking away drops of blood that rested on her lashes.
She knew what came next.
Heran handed her the second chalice. This one, decorated with the three phases of the moon representing the Goddess Gaia, was filled with a dark-red wine laced with the venom of the psilosnake she’d killed just hours before.
Ena took the chalice and lifted it to her lips. The first sip was sweet, mixed with a hint of blood from her lips. The second sip was bitter, the venom burning as it coursed down her throat. Bile rose in her throat and she actively fought the urge to vomit. Afraid she’d lose her nerve, she breathed through her nose and tilted her head back as she downed the rest in one large fiery swallow.
She felt the chalice slide from her hand as her eyes rolled back and everything went black.
***
She was nowhere. She was everywhere. She felt her heart beating acutely in her chest but she had no body. She felt the wind on her skin as she, too, blew through the leaves that remained on the trees. She Knew life was around her—she felt it throbbing in the dirt—but death and decay drained her also.
She felt the bugs crawling on her skin, which was crumbly, black, and moist. She felt a bird fly through the tendrils of her white mist hair as they condensed in a sky of deep blue. She felt claws rip at her throat, and the blood leaking out, draining,draining, until her lungs were still. Then she felt them expand again, her first breath filling her like an ocean wave.
She burned through the land, leaving ash in her wake as she split the ground in two, her chasm swallowing everything whole. She felt joy and laughter as she bubbled with the streams. She felt agony and despair as she cried with the rain. Her veins were the tree branches and the river’s winding path, just as her sweat dripped down, turning to ice as she froze and thawed, then boiled and steamed.
There was so much to do, so much to Know, so much to be.
She had no idea how long she remained this way. Being and Knowing and feeling a million things at once. It was interesting, it was new, and she forgot why she was here.
