I thought of my mother, cursing her weakness. “She has never understood my powers, Goddess.” I had always believed that someday I would inherit Ma’s stature as high priestess of our coven. but now it was not to be. “Perhaps it is envy,” I said aloud.
But there was no one to answer. Letting my hands drop to my sides, I realized that this circle had truly lost its magic for me. I packed my tools in my satchel, then set fire to my broom. I swept the wide circle with the flaming broom, wiping it all away. The Goddess would no longer visit this part of the woods. The magick was now gone from the stone altar, the green moss, and the tree that had once served as a Beltane maypole.
Once the circle was broken, I took my satchel and walked down the road. I decided to walk to Lillipool to witness the harvest of my spell. I walked as if in a daze until I reached a section of the woods that was now charred black and nearly empty, as if the trees and cottage there had simply melted into the earth.
I paused, pinching my nose against the smoking ash. What had stood here? I could not remember. I pressed closer, realizing that the striated rows of ash were charred skeletons. Three skeletons pressed against a door. Had they been unable to escape in time? I pressed my hands to my mouth, horrified at the thought. To imagine a sudden fire, the choking smoke, the need to get out before the flames swept over you.
Closing my eyes, I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the sting in my throat. ’Twas destruction at the hands of the Goddess, I told myself, and she smites evil. These villagers may have been nothing to me, but surely they were evil?
I didn’t feel ready to see more, yet I felt compelled to walk on, past yet another and another scene of the fire, now merely a blackened square upon the earth. When I reached the river, I had a vague sense that the mill had once stood here, with cottages all around. But now I stood amid a smoky landscape of embers, an endless horizon of ash and blackened earth.
“So mote it be,” I said aloud to ward off any doubts I had over the devastation surrounding me.
Down the lane of ashes I saw the charred skeletons of three children lined up, as if prepared for burial rites. I thought of the children I’d seen playing in the dusty square when I’d come to Lillipool to see Diarmuid. A pang of regret tightened in my breast, but again I told myself ’twas the Goddess’s will. Were not these children being groomed in the bigoted ways of their clans?
I moved toward the center of what was once Lillipool. The charred skin of a man’s hand reached out from a fallen window ledge, though there was no body to be seen. Stepping around it, I shuddered and rubbed my belly. “ ’Tis a gruesome sight,” I said aloud. “But surely he was an evildoer.”
Even the dusty village square had been transformed to thick, dark ash. Ashes of bones and buildings, embers of my enemies’ dreams and hatred.
So much hatred.
Yet I could feel neither jubilation over the success of my spell nor sorrow for the lives lost upon this doomed patch of the Highlands. The Goddess had pushed me beyond feeling, beyond tears.
Walk. Breathe. Rest. My strength was focused on the simplest matters right now, the need to survive and care for my baby. See here the fruits of your spell, the Goddess was telling me. Witness and learn, for the destruction wrought here is the result of your summons.
Near the river sat a row of buildings that had not completely burned, but only collapsed into ash. Mayhap the people in them had used the water of the river to fend off the fire? I stepped near one sagging doorway and peered inside. The bodies here were not completely charred, and perhaps they were worse for their rotting stench, their distinguishable features. Was that the tinker? And the children.
I turned away, wanting only to see the corpses of those most deserving.
I walked into a tangle of smoking embers that I thought to be Diarmuid’s cottage. Kicking at a gray ashen stump, I thought of the hungry look in Diarmuid’s eyes the night before. His denial of our love, his retreat from the Goddess’s plan. Goddess, please grant me that my child will not have those eyes, those lustful, glittery eyes.
The ash below my shoe crunched apart, lowering me into a burning ember. I stomped out the heat, then noticed two skeletons, their charred limbs entwined.
Could it be Diarmuid and. and Siobhan?
Was this the spot where they had died?
I climbed over the ashes to study the skeletons. A gold ring was still wrapped around one of the charred finger bones—Diarmuid’s ring. I pressed my lips together, feeling a sting as I understood that the burned girl was Siobhan.
’Twould be the last time she hurt me.
I reached down and snapped the ring off Diarmuid’s charred finger bone. I would save it for my child. “I won’t tell your daughter the truth about you,” I told him, then thought better of it. How many years had I tried to pry the truth about Da from Ma? “Or mayhap I’ll tell her everything. every sordid detail of your weak and cowardly character.”
I laughed, realizing that Diarmuid no longer had any power in this life. Lifting my gown, I gazed upon the marking that I had branded on my belly. The pentagram was there, inverted. I blinked in awe. I had branded it so that I could look down and see it—but that meant the star shape was actually upside down upon my belly. An inverted pentagram was a legendary symbol for the harnessing of evil, though I’d never before used it.
I pressed Diarmuid’s ring against my own inverted marking. Somehow it brought me a dark pleasure, and I was glad to feel something even if it was a bitter end.
“ ’Tis your heritage,” I told my child. “The inverted pentagram, the dark spell, the dark wave, the origin of our redemption. This will be the spell I pass on to you to protect you and yours for all time.”
The babe gave a hearty kick, and I lowered my gown. ’Twas time to rest, but I could not find comfort here in this landscape of charred ruin. I tucked the ring into a satchel on my belt and moved on.
Instead of heading back to my own village, I kept going east, past the burned bog and heather that had surrounded Siobhan’s house. I paid no homage to the smoking remains there as I walked past, my sights set on a distant village where I might find lodging at an inn.
I came to a fork in the road and decided to continue east, to the place where the sun rose. Just beyond the fork someone called my name. I turned to find Aislinn waving at me, her red hair flying as she ran to catch up with me. Her energy seemed jarring in the silent woods, the site of so much recent destruction.
“Rose! Rose! It was you, wasn’t it? Did you see the ruin?” Her face was lit with a predatory smile. “Your spell wiped them out, the whole lot of them! By the Goddess, we really showed them! It will be a long time before anyone else crosses a Wodebayne.”
I rocked back on my heels, weary but relieved that Aislinn understood.
“You must be filled with wonder at what you’ve accomplished.”
“I can’t say that I am,” I admitted, wishing that I could summon some emotion.
“Well, then I am proud on your behalf,” Aislinn said. “Your dark wave of a spell has put an end to our persecution. You have altered our fate, Rose. Nevermore will we be downtrodden, nevermore the outcasts.”
“My ma does not agree,” I said. “She’s banished me from our coven.”
“Síle is a foolish woman,” Aislinn said. “She has no vision, no courage. Did you know that many of us had already abandoned her coven, long before last night? Coveners were tiring of Síle’s failure to take action. We’ve begun to have our own circle in the woods east of here, near a village called Druinden. Though sometimes we flounder. We haven’t really found a high priestess with the power to summon the Goddess.”