Circle of Nine: Circle of Nine Trilogy 1 (13 page)

At the base of the Circle there was a smaller circle of fires tended by nine young girls. Their pleasing appearance — half-faery, half-human — bespoke their Faiaite blood. Eyes large and elongated, silver-toned lips and spidery hands combined with expressions both mischievous and wise. The nine girls were clothed in white silk gowns with golden cords dangling around their waists, around their heads they had flower garlands, and at the centre of the garland, a crescent silver moon. They stood protectively in front of the stones as they saw the large crowd approaching them.

Khartyn was again ready to enlighten me. ‘They are the nine virgins. The protectors of the Sacred Fires and companions to the stones.’

Upon spotting the old woman the girls let out squeals of joy and raced toward us.

‘Mother! Mother!’

Khartyn dismounted from her ilkama and bowed low, hands raised in the air in salutation to the virgins.

‘Greetings, my dearly beloved children. How are our men on this auspicious occasion?’

The tallest of the virgins stepped forward.

‘Bwani has been unusually restless this past week, Mother.’

She discreetly indicated the tallest monolith. ‘He has been unsettled all week — despite the continual love and reassurance we are careful to send him.’

‘There have been Solumbi near, Old Mother,’ another girl added. ‘Perhaps Bwani senses them.’

‘Perhaps.’ Khartyn’s tone indicated she was unconvinced. She strode over to the monolith in question, with the nine virgins following at a respectful distance behind. Focusing on the stone, Khartyn placed her gnarled, veined hand onto the surface of the rock.

‘Well, child, he’s peaceful enough now.’

At that point three young girls suddenly stepped into view from behind the stone magicians. I held my breath. They were human. I realised fully how different the Faiaite women were to humans. These girls lacked the silver lips and elongated ears of the women around me who were seating themselves on the ground, some perching on top of larger boulders, like humans at a pop concert. Memories of Earth came flooding back to me, and my mind began to reel. Rosedark sensed my turbulence and took my hand.

‘They are not from your world,’ Khartyn said evenly, reading my thoughts. ‘They are from ours. They are Crossas. We plant them on the Blue Planet to attempt to heal the cracks that occur between our worlds. These three Crossas will excel on Earth in their respective fields of politics, popular entertainment and religion.’

Their faces were human, if totally impassive, and despite their tender years their cool gazes regarded me with adult confidence. Their auric fields radiated sheer power. I realised that although they looked human they were something else entirely. As I felt them in my mind a host of scattered memories of Earth that clung to them penetrated my shining. It was a confused whirl of processed foods, television and mobile phones, traffic jams, the sun. I noted that when Khartyn greeted the Crossas she bowed very low to them. The Faiaites were similarly respectful, falling silent as soon as they spotted them.

‘They are not humans, Emma, nor are they Faiaites,’ Rosedark whispered hastily to me. ‘They were bred especially for this mission. They are very advanced beings, from the innermost region of the Great Shell.’

Her explanation raised more questions in my mind than it answered but it was hardly the time to pursue the matter. The Crossas stepped further forward, greeted Khartyn and Rosedark and then regarded me. I felt uneasy beneath their unblinking, unearthly stares.

‘She arrived on time for you, Mother,’ said the smallest of the Crossas. She looked around four years old but had the assurance of a 35-year-old. I opened my mouth to query her remark but was interrupted by a loud gasp from the assembled crowd.

‘Quickly!’ Khartyn was at my side. Her face distorted with excitement. ‘Brighid is about to materialise!’

CHAPTER TWENTY

T
he entire field of women and beings fell to their knees. With the exception of the giant, who remained at the back of the large crowd of people, and the Winskis and Faeries, who hovered in the air. Bewildered, I followed their example. The Crossas began to sing. Their song contained no words and yet it contained all words. The lyrics dripped like honey through my veins, my blood, my cells. I found myself crying tears of happiness, of longing. An overwhelming sound of large flapping wings filled the Blest Circle. A soft, pure white light embraced the large crowd of assembled beings. An enormous white swan began to materialise in front of the monoliths. There were cries of adoration from the crowd. Several of the Faiaites stepped forward, holding out small babies for them to be blessed. I even found myself holding out my arms in reverence to the swan. Total bliss was enveloping every cell of my body. Great flashes of light were resounding in large pumps from the crown of my head. My joy spilt onto the earth and a new flower was created. I witnessed the tiny white bud pushing through the earth. I was swaying in bliss, radiance and divine grace.

An alarming, too-familar smell permeated my nostrils. I glanced around in terror. Solumbi! In the distance a pack of thirty or more of the huge dark beasts were racing toward us. A ripple of shock swept through the crowd. The great swan began to dematerialise. A collective moan of disappointment echoed from the assembled women as if from one voice. There was a tangible sensation of loss. The stench of Solumbi assailed us again. The gathering began to mill impotently, panicky but unsure where to run.

‘What are we to do, Old Mother?’ demanded a Crossa. ‘There’s too many of them!’

Before Khartyn could reply one of the young virgin Fire Protectors shouted above the din.

‘Behold Artemis!’

The crowd looked up as one. I held my breath in awe at the woman on horseback on the nearby cliffs. The power and determination emanating from her was electrifying. Her dramatic appearance was highlighted by the unearthly glow of the Triple Moons. She was illuminated by both that light and by some eerie radiance of her own. Her long dark hair hung tangled and matted down her back. A golden crescent moon adorned her forehead. Strength poured from every fibre of her being. I noted with shock that she was multi-breasted. Six naked breasts proudly displayed her goddess origins. Then I noted the hundreds of warrior women that were joining her along the peak. The advancing Solumbi also noticed the new arrivals and for a second I felt a flicker of fear pass through the advancing troop. They appeared to hesitate. A timeless second passed.

‘Charge!’ screamed the Goddess.

The women surrounding Artemis uttered a cry as they spurred their horses toward the Solumbi. The Faiaites and Baffinites screamed and began to scatter in all directions. The Solumbi continued to advance and I stumbled and began to dry-retch as their foul odour overtook me. Then the world became a blur. I was surrounded by the stench of Solumbi and by screaming warrior nymphs on horseback. I could dimly perceive Khartyn and Rosedark standing side by side amid the chaos, arms outstretched, chanting, sending some form of energy to the Solumbi. The Crossas had vanished into thin air while the Faiaites remained to face the Solumbi, who were fighting the horseback women tooth and claw. Artemis appeared to be everywhere. Where she moved, cracks appeared in the earth in her wake. Sparks of brilliant blue flame flashed from her eyes. I stood openmouthed as Artemis plunged an enormous jewelled sword into one Solumbi belly after another. I was witnessing primordial fury, the dark face of the Goddess, in all her aspects unleashed. I watched in horrified fascination as one Solumbi, more cunning than the rest, quickly crept behind Artemis. A black sticky substance flew from his mouth and his bear-like claws reached for the Goddess and her horse.

Acting on instinct, I grabbed a thin golden blade adorned with lapis lazuli from the dead hands of a slaughtered nymph. In a blaze of fear and anger I ran toward the Solumbi and shoved the blade with all my strength through his hairy back. There was no resistance. A sharp feeling of his pain ran through my body, then the Solumbi lay dead at my feet. The Goddess half-turned. Up close, she was shorter than she had first appeared. Her hard, green, animal eyes regarded me briefly with an alien detachment. I could smell her sweat, it was the odour of the woods, of the wilds, of places unseen by human eyes. Then she wheeled and vanished in full pursuit of the rapidly decreasing Solumbi forces. The beasts had begun to flee, fearing the wrath of Artemis now that so many of her valued nymph cavalry had been destroyed.

As the fighting moved further and further away, the Faiaites wasted no time beginning their grim task of dragging the dead bodies into the Circle of Nine. There was much wailing and keening from the dejected crowd. Rosedark ran up to me and hugged me close. I could feel the terror and sadness coming in heavy waves throughout her body. Anger ignited inside me when I recalled her innocent excitement on preparing for the sacred festival.

‘Where is Khartyn?’ I asked.

Rosedark pointed out the Crone who was hunched over the nymphs’ dead bodies.

‘Over there. She’s keening. She’s aggrieved because Brighid’s materialisation was disrupted. Never before have the Solumbis dared to disturb the ancient ceremonies! Alas, the Blest Circle of Nine has been contaminated with blood shed in violence! The virgins have permitted the Sacred Fires to burn out. These are ill omens for Eronth.’

Rosedark hung her head forward, her voice cracking with emotion.

I opened my mouth to reply, but was interrupted by Artemis’ sudden appearance.

‘Thanatos and Hecate are wishing to approach the bodies,’ she intoned, ‘but they cannot while the Bluite remains.’

She thrust her sword toward me accusingly. ‘She has witnessed enough of the mysteries today! Get rid of her!’

She threw a small silver object to me which I caught on reflex. Then she ran toward her waiting horse and vaulted over her back, calling her remaining nymphs to follow her.

Rosedark sighed. ‘Come, Emma, we will find our ilkamas. We had best leave quickly. I will accompany you. The burial rites are about to commence and you have spent too long in the land of the one moon to gaze safely upon the face of Hecate. What did Artemis throw to you?’

I held out the tiny, silver lace object. Dangling from it was a single miniature silver moon. Minute stars were stitched in delicate beauty along the border. Rosedark gasped in admiration.

‘You have been truly blest. It is her magic garter. Lady Artemis has presented it to you for protection.’

Just then Rosedark spotted our ilkamas, grazing unconcernedly near a small rocky outcrop on the plain. She broke out into a run.

‘Quickly, Emma!’ she cried, beckoning me to follow. ‘They are waiting for us to leave!’

*

Sati stroked her scrying mirror tenderly with a long, black-varnished nail. Today its reflections had pleased her greatly. Khartyn’s grief was visible through the looking glass. The Faiaites were also shattered as they assisted the sparrows to rise from the chests of the fallen nymphs and Solumbi. Despite the many casualties in her Solumbi army, Sati enjoyed a heady feeling of triumph coursing through her veins. After all, had they not prevented that dumpling Brighid from full materialisation? Had they not slain more than a few of Artemis’ wretched nymphs? That in itself was no mean feat. But triumph of triumphs, they had been instrumental in the virgins’ letting their Sacred Fires go out.

Sati frowned in deep thought, witnessing through her glass Emma and Rosedark examining Artemis’ gift to the Bluite girl. She knew she would have to find a way to retrieve that garter. It had been blessed by Artemis and it would be a great risk to allow Emma to wear something that powerful. But there was nothing she could do right now.

Scanning the glass further, she observed the multitudes of Faiaites keening and mourning the dead nymphs by the stone circle. Tonight she would fast and gather her powers. Artemis and Khartyn would soon be seeking retribution and Sati needed to be at full strength to face them. The sending of the Solumbi on their bloody mission had been a severe transgression of Faiaite law. The goddesses would demand justice from the Dreamers.

Just let them try, Sati smiled to herself. She was satisfied that the images revealed by her scrying mirror indicated she had little to worry about.

*

When Khartyn returned later that night alone to Dome Cottage her mood was subdued. Emma and Rosedark had travelled home together, and had spent an uneasy afternoon reading books on folk and Faery tales of Eronth. Emma had found it difficult to concentrate, worrying as she had been for the Crone.

When she finally appeared, Khartyn looked visibly even more aged with shock and grief. Rosedark handed her a bowl of vegetable stew, which she accepted gratefully.

‘It is Sati’s work,’ she said wearily. ‘I have felt her scrying all day. The Faiaites are demoralised and fearful now that the Sacred Fires have been allowed to burn out. Already Faia is abuzz with rumours that Bwani has broken free of the stone. As if it were not enough that Persephone is so overdue rising — now Brighid has not materialised!’

She sighed deeply. It was as if the wind moved through her bones. I moved closer to her, suddenly afraid she would collapse into dust, into smoke, into ash in front of me. She claimed to be centuries old and I could easily believe it, witnessing how frail and worn she now appeared. I had to resist the impulse to take her hand. I still half-believed that I was having an incredibly vivid dream.

‘A Cone of Power Circle has been announced for the following evening,’ she informed us. ‘The Dreamers have demanded that it be held while the moons are nearing full. The majority of goddesses will attend and the Crossas will also bless us with their presence.’

‘What about Emma?’ Rosedark asked, ladling more soup into Khartyn’s bowl.

‘The Dreamers have also requested her presence at the Cone,’ Khartyn replied.

They exchanged a look and I felt a chill run along my spine. A strange assurance that there were facts Rosedark and Khartyn were deliberately keeping to themselves crept through my system. Not for the first time since I had entered into the surreal world of their cosy if mysterious cottage, which still maddeningly reminded me of Johanna’s cottage, I felt suspicious and afraid.