Epona smiled. “I’ll leave that for you to discover,” she said coyly.
I loved learning about the goddess and the old ways from Epona. And very soon, it came time for Ludmilla and me to take our goddess names. After dinner one evening near Beltane, the fertility festival of spring, Druanne set two blue glass bottles on the table.
“The brew is ready,” Druanne said to Epona.
She nodded affirmatively.
“What does it do?” I asked, picking up one of the bottles.
Druanne took it from me and set it back down on the table. “It will allow your Goddess to come to you, speak to you, so you can learn your Goddess name.”
“Tomorrow you must eat or drink nothing. You will be given the elixir at sunset. Druanne will guide you,” Epona told us.
“Oh, how exciting!” Bride said with a clap of her hands. “Shall we wager on it? Our blonde lass here looks like she belongs to a spring maid.”
Ludmilla looked uncertain, nervous.
“We shall see,” Epona replied simply.
I passed a glance to Sid who winked at me. At least I knew which goddess to expect.
The next day, Uald and I pulled the maypole from the barn rafters and lugged it to the center square. We bedecked the top of the pole with bright colored ribbons and a crown of flowers. Uald spent the rest of the day chopping wood and piling it near the fire rings that Druanne and Aridmis had prepared. Ludmilla, Bride, and Epona worked in Epona’s house and at the fire preparing food. I strung garlands of flowers and greens, mindful to leave out snowdrops, taken from Druanne’s flower garden.
I’d fasted all day. My stomach rumbled a little, but I didn’t mind. I wanted to try the elixir. How would Cerridwen come to me? In a vision? In a dream? Now I would see what the Goddess wanted from me.
After the sun dropped below the horizon, Druanne came to Ludmilla and me in our little house and gave us both one of the blue bottles. “Drink, then rest on your bed. The potion will do the rest. I’ll come back later to check on you both,” she said then left.
Without hesitation, Ludmilla drank hers down, her face puckering at the taste.
“Well?” I asked.
“Sour,” she answered and poured herself a glass of water.
I patted my little dog on her head. She had grown since we’d first come to the coven, but she still had a lot more growing to do. And she had not yet told me her name.
“Perhaps my dog should drink a little too so we can find out her name,” I said with a laugh.
When Ludmilla made no sound at my jest, I looked up. She lay still on her bed. “Ludmilla?” I whispered.
She did not reply.
I laid my hand on her chest. Her heart beat slowly. “Ludmilla?”
“I hear you, sister,” she said in a voice quieter than a whisper.
I looked at the flask, rolling the glass around in my hand. With a sudden surge of courage, I uncorked the top and drank. Ludmilla was right; the taste was horribly bitter. I began to feel very dizzy. I swooned.
Ludmilla rose. She stripped naked, and birds flew in the room and dressed her in a gown of gold. They laid a flower ring on her head. A golden light surrounded her. She smiled at me and disappeared in a shower of glittering dust. I looked back at her bed. Her body lay there, but her essence was missing. I scowled. I looked down at my pup.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
I stopped, disbelieving. “Ludmilla,” I whispered.
“She’s gone with her Goddess. Aren’t you supposed to go too?” the pup asked then licked my chin. “I do like it here,” she told me.
“Am I really hearing you?” I asked.
She wagged her tail.
“What is your name?”
She barked a little bark. “Why don’t you call me Thora?”
I laughed. “That’s a big name.”
“I’ll be a big dog,” she answered.
I grinned, patted her on the head, and then rose. I opened the front door and looked up at the moon. It was high in the sky. The coven square was empty. The fire under the cauldron had faded; the coals glowed red. I moved through the darkness, but my feet never touched the ground. When I reached the cauldron’s side, I looked in to see the moon reflected perfectly in the water, filling the oval of the cauldron with silver light. I stared into the water and a number of images rose. First I saw a white flower with five petals. It fit into the cauldron precisely, five points encapsulated by a circle. I lifted my head and looked around. The whole coven was dark. I looked into the cauldron again and saw a white sow munching on a bed of violets. I stepped back from the cauldron. A dark-robed figure stood in the shadows.
“Druanne?”
The figure took two steps toward me.
I did not move.
She dropped her hood. She had pale white skin and silver hair. Her whole body glowed. A long silver sword hung at her side. I noticed that the whole world around me glowed as she did, with silver light. All objects became black or purple, their auras silver.
I didn’t breathe.
“The Goddess Cerridwen will not come to you because you are the Goddess Cerridwen,” the woman said.
I trembled. “Who are you?”
“I am your mother and your protector. I will move you, Cerridwen, where you must go. You are the avenger. You are the embodiment of an army of dead men. You are a queen. You are a goddess.”
“My Lady,” I whispered, bowing my head, “by what name should I address you?”
“I am the Morrigu. I am Scotia. I am Cailleach. I am the third face. I am the dark face. Call me what you will. Scotia fits this face best. I have waited a long time for you to be reborn.”
“What do you want from me, Lady?”
“Vengeance. Avenge me and the land. Avenge yourself upon those who wrong you. Be the blade of the Goddess. Learn what you can here, from this circle of nine, but know you will move on, and from the next place you go, you will move as well. I will take you where you need to be. I will instill you with the power you will need. All you need to do is call upon me.”
“I am blessed,” I whispered, amazed. Yet at the same time, my blood began to cool. An old, dead part of me rose from a cobweb-filled grave and looked out through my eyes. It was like I was merging, become one with some ancient force that had always lived alongside me, but was never part of me. I felt it rise from the yawning darkness. My body tingled. Scotia had awakened the magic in me, and I began to see what I needed to do.
“Call your power,” she whispered.
I closed my eyes and summoned up the strength within me. I felt the moonlight shining down on me. I began to glow. I began to hum. My power deafened me.
“Avenge yourself,” she whispered. “Punish those who have wronged your blood.”
I lifted up, as if on the wings of a bird, of a raven. I could hear the thunder of my wings as they moved through the air, pulsing under the light of the moon. My heart pounded in sync. I was flying. My eyes roved the land. A path of silvery light led me to Madelaine’s castle. With my raven’s eyes I could see through the citadel walls. I flew around the castle, looking through the walls, searching. He was not there. I raged. My raven eyes searched. Finally, I saw him walking from the barn to the castle. I didn’t think. I didn’t reason. I just acted. I dived down upon Alister with wrath and felt my claws slip into him as easy as sticking one’s hand into water. He screamed a blood-curdling cry. When I rose up, his soul, like a spider web, clung to my talons. Ruthlessly, I shook his being away. On the earth below me, his body lay still.
As I lifted up on my newfound wings, I peered through the castle window. I saw my aunt wrapping her arm in stiff white linen while blood trickled from her cracked lip. I opened my mouth to speak to her, but all I could hear was the cry of a raven. My aunt looked out the window, wide-eyed. She ran to the casement and stared outside, watching me as I spiraled back into the night, the moon on my wings.