“I’m going in,” I informed Tanner, patting at the sides of my dress and straightening my spine.
I stopped at the drinks table, picked up an alcohol-free mojito, and made my way to Rose, hoping to pay homage and dispense with my rising case of performance anxiety-related nerves. Rose was standing with L’Runa, not far from where River was sitting and chatting with Abigail and Cliff.
“Rose, L’Runa,” I began, “thank you so much for coming by tonight.”
L’Runa ran her hands down my free arm and took my hand in hers. “Calliope, what a powerful ceremony that was last night. For all of us. How are you feeling now?”
“Honestly, I feel different,” I said, laughing lightly, “which I’m sure everyone says, but also like I’m slightly…off center.”
She kissed my forehead and tightened her grip on my hand. “Entering the Mother Tree and taking the journey with Her is a profound experience of being out of body and out of time. Give yourself at least another twenty-four hours for your missing pieces to find their way home.” L’Runa’s smile was genuine and kind.
And I was still in awe of her palpable essence, some of which was circling its way around my left arm and over my shoulder, a snaking sleeve of invisible protection.
Rose nodded at her friend, tucked her hands behind her back, and lowered her voice. “Calliope, your Blood Ceremony did not follow the sequence most others do. You had uninvited…” She paused mid-sentence as L’Runa elbowed her gently and spoke into her ear. “Let me rephrase that,” she said. “You had unannounced guests, and while we always expect there might be visitors from other realms, one of yours was…” She searched the darkening woods surrounding my house and rubbed her upper arms. “One of your visitors lingered at the periphery of the ceremonial area in a way that whispered of a threat. And two other visitors came in their animal forms, as though to protect you from that threat.”
“When moments like that occur during a Blood Ceremony or even during one of the lesser ceremonies, Calliope, our policy is to let it unfurl without interference,” said L’Runa, lifting a lightweight shawl out of her capacious bag and handing it to Rose. “Much as one would, say, when watching an outdoor theater production or musical performance. One cannot always control the weather or the actions of the local inhabitants while the show is going on.”
“But,” Rose interjected, “we had to ask Tanner for help once the sun rose and you emerged from the tree.”
“I remember some of that,” I said. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
“We’re glad to see you alive and well on this side of your ceremony, Calliope. It’s the best of all possible outcomes.”
My conversation with the two witches left me pondering what the not-so-best of all possible outcomes might have looked like. I shook off the thought, found an empty chair in a cluster of round tables, and let myself be surrounded by well-wishing family and new friends.
Stifling a yawn from the lack of sleep, I took stock of the party. Harper, Leilani, Thatcher, and Sallie had spread a blanket at the far end of the property and were on their backs, pointing up at stars, and seemingly deep in conversation. Nearer to the house, other clusters of partiers had me calculating how much longer I should stay before it was acceptable to gracefully usher myself off to bed.
Where I would gracefully await the dark-haired druid standing with his back to me, in lively conversation with his trio of druidic cohorts. Watching Tanner could easily become a favorite pastime, and a rush up my spine confirmed my crush was real.
Enough mooning. I was chilly. Rubbing my full belly, the feeling of fullness extending into my heart, I excused myself and went into the house to find a sweater.
The moment I planted my foot on the strip of lawn between the house and the driveway, I knew something was different. The ground was askew in a way that was simply wrong. Though the surface of the lawn looked smooth, my feet couldn’t find purchase, and my gut clenched in reaction to a presence I could not see. Lack of hysteria in the remaining partygoers pointed away from the possibility of a mild earthquake.
I whirled to my right then left. Underneath where I stood, an undulating presence extended its long-fingered reach, and each of those fingers created fissures in the thick underlayer of fine, intertwined roots.
Did no one else feel what was happening? The teens were still on their blanket. Rowan was head-to-head with Wes, the reds of their hair a coppery glow in the light cast from a nearby torch.
Nearer to the house, River and Rose were with Clifford and Abigail, gathering sweaters, jackets, and purses while continuing their conversation. At another table, Mal, James, Kaz, and Belle were laughing. Tanner was walking toward them, a bowl of cookies from the dessert table balanced in his hand.
I pinched the fabric of my flowy dress so I wouldn’t flash anyone and scooted back up the stairs, darted through the house to my bedroom, and went to grab my wand.
Which was now becoming one with its twelve-inch replacement. Tiny branchlets clutched the old stick to the new. I picked up the conjoined pieces, thinking I could separate them like bamboo chopsticks, but the branchlets and leaf buds were having none of it.
“Okay, okay, I get it,” I whispered.
I peeled off my dress, rolled myself into a sports bra, and wedged the conjoined wands between my breasts.
Wands. Gauntlets.
What I wouldn’t give for an instruction manual.
I slipped the gold hoops out of my earlobes, pulled on a pair of clean jeans and a T-shirt, and affixed the bear and the apple to the top of my T-shirt and called myself ready.
No one looked at
