My shoulder was seriously starting to ache from the cold, and as my friend shut the door behind him, I felt the hair rise on the back of my neck and a dull throb begin at the base of my skull. The pain was apparently starting to expand, and I rolled my arm a bit to get comfortable.
“You okay, Rowan?” R.J. whispered to me.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I nodded as I answered. “Shoulder.”
He shot me a grimace and nodded his understanding of my one word explanation.
“All right, everyone,” Felicity announced. “Are we ready to move on?”
I thought for a second about excusing myself but elected not to say anything. I decided to give it a few more minutes and see how things progressed. Worse case scenario, after the next tower was hailed I could go inside and down a handful of aspirin.
Everyone settled back in, and the twins completed their abruptly truncated hail of the Southern watchtower before once again engaging in their opposing orbits around the circle.
“Watchtowers doubled…” said Jennifer as they joined at our west.
“…now stand in a pair,” chimed Shari.
“Guardian of fire…”
“…and guardian of air,”
“We beckon you now, come join the rest…”
“…with ebb and with flow, as you do the best.”
“Watchtower of the west,” Jennifer’s voice stepped in behind the lull.
“Element of water…” Shari continued.
“Guardian of ocean, sea, lake and stream…”
“Giver of life.”
Their voices doubled together, “We invite you. Please join us this night and watch over us in our circle. Blessed be!”
“So mote it be!” we answered aloud.
Jennifer and Shari executed their dance for a fourth and final time, coming to rest in the north, and very close to their original positions in our circle.
“Thrice we’ve bid…” Shari began.
“…to watchtowers tall…” Jennifer completed.
“…And each have answered…”
“…our humble call.”
“Now at last, we come to four…”
“…The final tower, there are no more.”
“Watchtower of the north…”
“Element of earth…”
“Guardian of the land…”
“Mother of all…”
And together they harmonized a last time, “We invite you. Please join us this night and watch over us in our circle. Blessed be!”
And as one, we all answered, “So mote it be!”
The girls rejoined our ranks as we spread out to accommodate them, and they stood almost dancing in place, excited grins plastered across their faces. As they clasped hands with the circle, we could all instantly feel the intense level of energy they’d raised between themselves and were now sharing with us. It was no wonder they couldn’t seem to stand still.
A warm feeling coursed through my body, and though my shoulder was still bludgeoning me with discomfort, I decided I could bear it awhile longer provided it didn’t get any worse.
“The wheel forever turns, spinning in harmony with nature; with the Lord and Lady; with the elements and all that is,” Felicity said, picking up where Jennifer and Shari had ended. “It spirals through the seasons, bringing with it the balance of the cyclic birth, death, and rebirth of all.
“Winter solstice is both an end and a beginning. This longest night brings to a close our solar year, and with the dawn brings to us the hope and mystery of the next. It is a time when that which is spent is laid to rest, and that which is new and untouched bursts forth with wonder and promise.
“This is a time for new beginnings. This is a time we call Yule. It is a celebration of the cycle and the rebirth of the Sun God. In honor of this time, we celebrate with a pyre in its name.”
The last sentence was my queue; I released hands and stepped forward into the center of the circle. Digging in my pocket, after a moment I withdrew a wooden match. Kneeling down, I struck it against the deck and shielded the flame from the wind with my cupped hand. I reached into the open fire pit and touched the small fire to a few strategic points. The dry kindling caught quickly, then I stood and stepped back into place with the rest of the circle.
The wood and pinecones crackled as the fire began to spread and consume them as fuel-an act of birth and death in and of itself. Flickering light cast outward to illuminate us in a yellow-orange glow.
Nancy knelt down, and when she stood up again she stepped forward holding a medium-sized oak log, decorated with pine boughs. She carefully lowered it into the rapidly growing conflagration and allowed it to fall the last few inches, jumping back as a shower of embers plumed upward.
“The Yule log represents the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth.” Felicity continued her recitation of the ritual. “Tonight, this pyre will light our way through the darkness; give us warmth to stave off the cold; and remind us of our good fortune past, present, and future as we welcome the rebirth of the Sun God. Blessed be!”
“So mote it be!” we answered her.
Felicity looked solemnly around the circle as a cloud of smoke billowed outward from the fire pit and lofted upward on the cold breeze. The sappy pine boughs had begun to burn now, and their pungent odor was filling the air, riding on the back of the blue-white smoke.
“Well, let’s make this thing safe, so we can leave it alone for a while,” she stated. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m ready to eat. It’s going to be a very long night.”
I gave R.J. a friendly nudge and told him with a grin, “I’m appointing you fire tender. I’m getting too old for this all night stuff.”
After we’d placed the lid on the portable fireplace and closed the screens, we all started back inside for the feast. I had eventually become so caught up in the ritual that it was my sole focus for the last several minutes. Until now I’d almost completely dismissed the fact that my shoulder was flaring up. I was suddenly reminded of it in no uncertain terms by a sharp twinge that drove inward and then hung a quick right to shoot down my arm, ending with momentary numbness in my fingers. I decided then and there that I was going to need something to take it down a few notches if I was going to make it through the rest of the night.
Something else I’d forgotten was that Ben was already in the house making a phone call. He had apparently just finished as we all filtered into the living room and began hanging up our coats. I heard the door to our bedroom open as everyone was heading back into the kitchen and dining room to help get everything set out for dinner. I hung back a moment and waited.
“Hey, Tonto,” I greeted my friend as he came around the corner and up the short hallway. “You missed all the fun.”
“What? Oh, yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” he answered me, voice thick and betraying a noticeable sense of distance to his thoughts. He looked pale, which considering his dusky complexion was alarming in and of itself.
“Something wrong?” I queried, feeling the hairs on my neck snap to attention once again.
“No. Nothin’. No big deal.” He shook his head.
I was unconvinced. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” He shook his head a little too vigorously. “It’s nothin’.”
“Ben…”
He shot me a hard look and half whispered, “Not right now, Row. Drop it. It’s nothin’”
“Okay.” I shrugged and held up a hand to let him know I got the message. “No problem. Sorry.”
I stood looking at him for a moment and could almost visibly see the wheels turning. Something was up, but for some unknown reason he was going to keep me in the dark about it. I didn’t like this situation at all because something deep down told me that whatever it was that Ben was laboring over, it definitely had something to do with me.
The earlier rampant fear that I had perhaps killed Paige Lawson myself now returned to the forefront with extreme prejudice. Everything Helen had said to convince me otherwise went instantly out the window, and I became my own prime suspect once again.