Nora Roberts - Dance Upon the Air

There were things it wasn't wise to speak of at night, or even think. Night could be an open window.

She burned incense of sage to counter negativity, fastened on earrings of amethyst to strengthen her intuition. She'd been tempted to slip some rosemary under her pillow, to help chase away her troubled dreams. But she needed to see, needed to look.

She added jasper to the chain around her neck, a strengthener of energy, a reliever of stress.

It was the first time in years she could recall being so constantly hounded by stress.

Tonight wasn't the time for it, she reminded herself. She was going to take Nell to the next step, and such things should be joyful.

She fingered the magic bag in her pocket, filled with crystals and herbs, and, as she'd taught Nell, tied with seven knots. She detested being so edgy, as if waiting and waiting for disaster to strike.

Foolish, really, when she'd been preparing for disaster, and how to divert it, all her life.

She heard the car, saw the streak of lights slash across her front windows. As she walked to the door, she visualized pouring the stress into a small silver box, locking it.

So she appeared to be her usual calm self as she opened the door. Until she saw Ripley.

"Slumming, Deputy?"

"Didn't have anything better to do." She was surprised to see Mia in a long black dress. Mia rarely wore black. The one thing Ripley had to admit, the woman wasn't often obvious. "Special occasion?"

"As it happens. I don't have any objections to you being here, if Nell wants you. But don't interfere."

"You don't interest me enough to interfere."

"Is this argument going to take long?" Nell asked pleasantly. "I was hoping for a glass of wine."

"I think we're done. Come in, and welcome. We'll take the wine with us."

"With us? Where are we going?"

"To the circle. You've brought what I told you?"

"Yes." Nell patted the large leather pouch she wore.

"Good. I'll get what I need, then we'll go."

Ripley wandered around freely enough while Mia got ready. She had always liked the cliff house. Loved it. The big, crowded rooms, the odd corners, the thick carved doors and glossy floors.

She'd have gotten by happily enough with one room and a cot, but she had to admit Mia's place had style. And class. As far as atmosphere went, you couldn't top it.

Class, style, and atmosphere aside, it was always comfortable. A place where you knew you could sink into a chair and put your feet up.

A place, she recalled, where she had once run as free and as welcome as a pet puppy. It was a hell of a note to realize, all at once, how much she'd missed it. Missed it all.

"You still use the gable room?" Ripley asked casually while Mia selected a red wine from the rack.

When Mia glanced back their eyes met. Shared memories. "Yes. Some of your things are still there," she said as she wrapped three glasses in white linen.

"I don't want them."

"They're still there, in any case. Since you're here, you can carry this bag." She gestured, then picked up the second that held the wine and glasses.

She opened the back door, and Isis streaked through. It surprised Nell, as the cat generally couldn't be bothered to join them.

"It's a special night." Mia threw up the hood of the cloak she swirled over her shoulders. Black again, with a lining of deep wine-red. "She knows it. It's nearly Samhain. Nell needs to practice lighting the balefire."

Ripley's head snapped up. "Moving a little fast, aren't you?"

Mia merely studied the moon as they walked. It was down to a thumbnail and would soon be full dark. Around that sliver of white she could see a haze blacker, thicker than the sky.

"No."

Annoyed that Mia had made her uneasy yet again, Ripley shrugged. "Halloween. Lifting the dead. The night boils with evil spirits and only the brave or foolish walk in the dark."

"Nonsense," Mia said lightly. "And there's no point in taking that route to try to scare Nell."

"The end of the third and last harvest of the year." Nell breathed deep of the night. "A time for remembering the dead, for celebrating the eternal cycle. Also the night when the veil between life and death is said to be its thinnest. Hardly a negative time, but one of reaffirmation and fun. And, of course, Mia's birthday."

"The big three-oh this time, too," said Ripley.

"Don't be so smug." There was a little bite in Mia's voice, a not entirely playful nip. "You'll be hitting it yourself in six weeks."

"Yeah, but you'll always be older than me."

Isis was already in the clearing, sitting still as a sphinx in the center.

"We have some candles for working light. You can put them on the stones, Ripley, and light them."

"No." She shoved her hands, very deliberately, into the pockets of her bomber jacket. "Carting your bag of tricks is one thing. I won't participate."

"Oh, for pity sakes. You'll hardly spoil your magic celibacy by lighting one or two candles." But Mia snatched the bag from her and stalked to the stones.

"I'll do it," Nell insisted. "There's no point in either of you being angry, when you're each doing what you want."

"Why are you so angry?" Ripley kept her voice down, crouched as Mia came back to select what she needed from her bags. "I usually have to work a lot harder to get under your skin."

"Maybe my skin's thinner these days."

"You look tired."

"I am tired. Something's coming. It's pushing, and pushing closer. I don't know how much longer I can hold it back, or even if I'm meant to. There'll be blood."

She gripped Ripley's wrist, held her still. "And pain. Terror and grief. And I'm afraid that without the circle there'll be death."

"If you're so sure of this, afraid of this, why haven't you sent for someone? You know others."

"It's not for others, and you know it." She glanced back toward Nell. "Maybe she's strong enough."

Mia straightened, tossed back her hood. "Nell. We'll cast the circle."

Whatever she'd expected to feel, Ripley hadn't expected the yearning that ribboned through her as she watched the basic ritual, as the familiar words echoed in her head.

She'd given it up, she reminded herself. She'd set it aside.

She watched wand and athame glimmer. She had always preferred the sword.

Her mouth pursed in consideration as Mia lit candles with a wooden match. Even as she opened her mouth to speak, to question, Mia sent her a quieting look.

Fine, your way as usual, Ripley thought, and kept her comments to herself.

"Earth, wind, fire, water-elements, hear this call from your daughters. While the moon above does ride, within the magic circle rise."

With her head thrown back and her arms raised, Mia waited. And the wind lifted, all but sang, the candle flames speared, ruler-straight despite the swirl of humming air. Under her feet, the earth trembled lightly, and in her cauldron, fragrant liquid began to bubble.

As Mia lowered her arms again, each subsided.

Nell had yet to get her breath back. Over the past months, she'd seen and done and been told the fantastic. But until tonight she hadn't been treated to such a vivid display.

"Power awaits," Mia told her, and held out a hand.

When Nell clasped it, she found Mia's skin warm, nearly hot.

"It waits in you. Your link is air, and calling to it comes most easily to you. But there are four. Tonight, you'll make fire."

"The balefire, yes. But we didn't bring wood."

With a little chuckle, Mia stepped back. "We won't need it. Center yourself. Clear your mind. This fire does not burn. This fire does no harm. It lights the dark and glows from charm. When you make its golden tower, you will know your strength and power. And once begun, bring harm to none."

"It's too soon for her," Ripley said from outside the circle.