When the tall witch paused in front of me, she offered a quick smile, one that softened the angles of her face and called my attention to her ice-blue eyes. L’Runa raised the volume of her voice and slowed her cadence enough so I could hear the exact syllables of the chant.
Words—soft with blessing, sharp with warning—penetrated my skin and created a netting below the surface. The sensation was simultaneously odd and familiar, sticky and viscous, generating spider web-like connections between me and the other women and every living thing around us.
I let my wonder be and surrendered any search for an explanation.
L’Runa handed the chalice and bundle to Rose and went to one knee, allowing the petite leader easier access to her head and shoulders. When L’Runa stood, she placed the ritual objects in the center of the circle and took her place between Elphane and Belle.
“Now, we cast our circle,” Rose said.
Every witch turned to face the same direction. A quick scan of the night sky informed me we were facing North. Rose turned her left hand to face the ground, raised her right arm, and drew a pentacle in the air. I couldn’t hear the words she spoke, but when we turned as one to the right—East—I could hear her brief invocation to Fire, the next turn to Water, and finally, to Earth.
She paused when we returned to facing North, pivoted clockwise to face the center of our loose circle, and pointed her right arm to the ground, informing us the circle was cast and we were now between the worlds.
I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel a palpable difference in the air around me, in myself. I ran my hands up and down my outer thighs, just to feel the solidity of my body, and made certain to listen for my heartbeat echoing in my ears.
“I will now call in the cardinal directions and the elements and invoke the Goddesses.” Rose lifted her hands, palms forward and fingers spread, and began to speak. The glow from the moonstone rings decorating her fingers brightened. “Powers of the East, please be present. Bless us with words that lift our hearts. Teach us to embrace clarity of mind.”
A breeze played with the hem of my dress. Goosebumps flitted up my legs and arms. I held my breath.
Rose released her words, the moonstones faded, and she made a quarter turn. “Powers of the South, please be present. Bless us with the transformational power of fire, teach us the promise of renewal held in every day.” I watched in open-mouthed awe as flames flickered over the hearts, bellies, and foreheads of the witches across the circle from me. A warm tickle drew a gasp from my throat; I was similarly aflame, until Rose made another quarter turn to invoke the next direction. “Powers of the West, please be present. Bless us with waters that nourish and cleanse. Teach us the power of the steady course.”
A mist arose, coating my forehead and cheeks. I brought my fingertips to one side of my face to make sure I hadn’t imagined the cool drops.
“Powers of the North, please be present. Bless us with depth in our connections to one another. Teach us to honor our Mother Earth.”
The ground underneath my feet rose and fell in time with my breath. I stopped shaking and started trusting.
Next, Rose opened her arms to the sides and began to move in a circle. The bottom of her lace dress flared out as she spun, sending ripples through nearby plants. “Elemental air, soaring over mountains and across flatlands, carrying our words, present in our every breath, elevating our minds and opening us to learning, please be present. Bless us with cleansing winds that soothe our wounds and imperfections. Bathe us in silver energy.”
A moment later, a tiny flame appeared in Rose’s palm.
“Elemental fire, who dwells in the dark at the center of the Earth and lights our solar system, please be present. Bless us with your gifts of action and creativity, your purifying flames and golden energy.”
She turned in place until she again faced West and lowered both hands into the chalice at her feet, dowsing the flame. “Elemental water.” Rose stood, raised her cupped palms, water coursing down her arms. “Falling from clouds, rising from our springs and wells, flowing through our streams and rivers, abiding in the depths of our lakes and oceans, nurturing our emotions, please be present. Bless us with the tides of courage and change and bathe us in blue energy.”
Rose stopped moving as she finished speaking. Her dress, glowing with silvered flickers of light, settled against her slender form. She took a wider stance, bent slightly at the knees, and turned her palms to face the ground.
“Elemental earth,” she said, gently tamping her feet in place and pressing the air with her hands. “That which is everywhere underfoot, grounding and abundant, please be present. Bless us with the dark of your caves and the green light that grows within everything planted.”
The lights on Rose’s dress faded, and my vision sped outward, past the wide trunks of the trees and into the consuming dark.
The spruce and the fir absorbed the lingering wisps of Rose’s words. “Our intention as we gather here amongst these ancient trees, on this sacred ground, is to guide our sister, Calliope Jones, through the stages that bring her to Priestess. Calliope, are you ready to receive?”
“Yes.” I waited, expectant.
Sounds filtered into my awareness, rising from the ground and closing in from the surrounding trees. It took me a few stuttered breaths to understand the women were creating the sounds, using drums, a rainstick, fingers clicking, soft clapping, voices trilling. A chant began, and as the words gradually became clearer, I joined in, silently mouthing and following along as the voices got louder and louder.
The
