Caitlin: Priestess of the Goddess
Chapter II

    Chapter II

           I stood numb, feeling the disapproving glares. I dared not show my grief, lest
    they think me fit only to accompany you.

           We prayed. We placed above you the offerings which would accompany and
    bless you on your journey. We raised our voices once more in sacred chant. I
    returned to my place in the west and watched Allianna as she prayed. The colors
    danced around her, and for the first time, I knew. A person’s lips can speak lies. A
    person’s actions can seem to be what they are not. But there is no way that the
    dancing colors can speak anything but the truth.

           The golden light of holy blessing was gone. And the healing green and sacred
    blue that usually settled around her after a ritual were missing. Instead I saw red and
    orange points of fire explode around her head. She watched me then, even as she
    was offering prayer to the Goddess, and I knew she too could see my colors. I bowed
    my head, I folded my hands, I knelt and offered up my own prayers.

           I knew that I would never again participate with these women in the circle. They
    would think it was because of you—that I could not let go of my earthly attachment—
    for I was a maiden in the blush of first love. They would give me prayers to speak and
    duties to perform to help me forget, to help me detach from the desires of the flesh.

           I would say nothing. I would keep secret what I now knew about Allianna. This
    woman, this priestess of the Goddess who I had followed for many years, who I had
    worshiped almost as the Goddess Herself (forgive me, Blessed Being) was now
    showing the colors of someone caught in the cycle of the baser emotions. Had
    everything she taught been, not of the Goddess but of the forces of darkness?

           We dropped our final offerings into the pool and climbed the spiral path,
    dispersing at the top in silence. I was thankful that no one spoke to me. I needed time
    before I could again face these sisters with whom I had shared my most intimate
    secrets for so many months.

           I crept silently to my mother’s hut and crawled to my sleeping pallet. My mother
    glanced up from her seat by the hearth and said nothing. She did not approve of the
    rituals, or my circle of friends, or Allianna herself, and it saved us from angry
    confrontation never to speak of these matters. She had not known of my love for you,
    but I know she suspected. It’s hard to hide that kind of thing from your mother.

           I fell immediately into a deep sleep, and the battle began. In a dream so vivid
    that I knew I was not dreaming, I found myself on a great field bounded by dark
    mountains to one side and sharp granite outcroppings to the other. Bright beings
    radiating light carried swords and axes against demons of the dark—grotesque
    creatures, caricatures of human beings, brandishing spiked weapons. Their shrieks
    nearly pulled me out of my deep sleep. Desperate as I was to flee, I could not reach
    the surface.

           I have no idea how long I remained in the midst of the spirits’ furious battle. I
    woke myself sometimes with my screams-or I would hear my mother’s voice sharply
    ordering me to roll over and turn my back on the danger. She would tell me later that
    she feared for my life only once during these days and nights—and had at that time
    almost sent for Allianna. But my terrified screams when she mentioned the Chief
    Priestess stopped her. I saw Allianna during the battle, but, on waking, had no
    memory of what she said…or where she stood.

           When it finally ended, and I did not know who had won, I woke up to my
    mother sitting beside me, coaxing me to take a bit of gruel. I raised my head and cried
    out at the sharp pain and nausea. I wondered if Allianna had visited me with the
    plague.

           I know not how long I lay on the pallet fighting off darkness. My mother was
    beside me whenever I opened my eyes, and occasionally I saw faces or heard voices
    of others in the room. My mother told me that my friends had come to visit, but she
    assured me that Allianna had not stepped into the hut. So why did I sense her
    presence?

           Finally I could sit up and look around and recognize familiar objects. My mother
    had kept my body clean, but I felt dark and dirty. I wanted to be outside in the
    sunshine but could only struggle feebly. Serena came, and she and my mother carried
    me outside to a fresh pallet on the ground. I know my mother had kept me fed, but I
    felt as if I had eaten nothing during my weeks of struggle. I was light as a child.

           I lay in the sun as Serena fed me berries and honeyed bread. I knew she wanted
    to ask questions but was afraid to speak, and I was not yet ready to share my
    experience even with her—my heartfriend through this and many lifetimes.

           “And what of Allianna?” I finally had courage to ask, not meeting Serena’s eyes.

           “Allianna is not herself,” Serena answered cautiously. “She sits alone, and some
    say she is visiting the sacred wine stores much too often.”

           “Has she…asked of me?”

           With a sigh, she answered. “When she was told of your sickness, she smiled—
    sadly, I think—and then flew into a rage. She emptied in one draft the chalice she had
    been drinking from and threw it at me.” Serena bared her breast to show me the
    bruise, angry purple, over her heart. I was consumed with red rage and then nausea
    overcame me.

                                                           * * * *

           As the sun grew higher, I became stronger. I could eat more of the mush,
    flavored with bits of sow flesh, that my mother prepared, and I could walk outside
    without Serena’s help. She and I walked further from the hut and sat under the large
    Oak by the stream, watching blue butterflies flutter through the morning mists.
    Serena never pressed me, but I knew we would have to speak of it soon. The circle
    would be preparing for the great ritual of Summer. They would know that my sickness
    was falling away, and I would soon have the strength to stand in the circle.

           One morning after I had watched Serena milk our gentle white cow—for she had
    taken over many of my chores to lessen my mother’s burden—I began to speak of the
    issue we had both avoided. How much should I tell her? Did I want to endanger her
    participation in the sacred circle? I did not know where her ultimate loyalty lay. She
    was always the one who pushed and prodded to keep me in line, and I knew that the
    sacred priestess circle was much more important to Serena than to me.

           “How often does the circle meet?” I asked. I knew that those in Allianna’s favor
    would be asked into her presence more frequently, and I wanted to learn where
    Serena stood with Allianna. It had been apparent to all that I was the Chief Priestess’
    favorite. She wanted me in constant attendance, and could there have been any other
    reason for me, a mere apprentice, to have been called upon to do the work of full
    priestess at the last ritual? I had been tested that night and I knew that, in Allianna’s
    eyes, I had failed.

           “We start nightly meetings next week,” Serena answered.

           “And?” I demanded.

           “I have been called to her many times. Some think I am taking your place as
    Allianna’s favorite.”

           “Are you?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

           “Oh, Caitlin, you know I can not. I have tried to be what she wants, but she can
    not make me into another you no matter how hard she tries.”

           “And has she tried?” I probed.

           Serena blushed, and I knew I did not want to hear her answer. “She wants me
    there only to speak of you,” she admitted.

           “And what do you tell her?”

           “That you become stronger every day. She said she would give me a healing
    potion for you.”

           “Does she say why she did not visit me during my sickness?”

           Serena looked at me open-mouthed. “She says that she visited you every night
    while you were in danger. Did your mother not tell you?”

           “Oh, yes,” I nodded, “I forgot.” For the first time in my life, I was not
    completely honest with my heartfriend, and I feared the path I had stepped onto.

           “She says she will visit you tomorrow,” Serena continued, “to inquire about your
    health, and to request your presence in the circle Friday night.”

           A cold knot of fear grabbed my heart, my stomach. I fought to keep the nausea
    from consuming me as Serena helped me back to the hut.