Cate Tiernan - Origins

Until now.

“Come to me tomorrow,” he said, holding my hands to his chest. “Meet me here, at the same time. Please say you will.”

“I will,” I promised, loving the way my slender fingers disappeared in his large, warm hands. He kissed my fingertips, then backed away, walking awkwardly into the woods.

“You’re going to hit your head,” I called, gesturing for him to turn around.

“But I can’t take my eyes from you,” he said.

“Then I must vanish.” I hitched up my skirts and raced out of the clearing, resolved not to turn back lest I linger in his arms forevermore. I was breathless from running and from his kisses, but I kept it up, slipping over a patch of dried mud and ignoring the brambles that caught at my stockings. I would run through the heather without shoes, roll down the rocky hills headfirst if it would get me closer to him.

In my deepest heart, I knew that I had met my mùirn beatha dàn — my only soul mate. I did not yet know his name. I knew only that he was mine.

I pressed my hand to the side of my skirt, feeling the weight and warmth of the rose stone through my pocket.

Astounding, I realized, the power of a charmed gem.

Even more surprising was the power of my own spell. I hadn’t been quite sure of the magnitude of the power—of my power—when I had planned to spell the stone for Kyra. But by the grace of the Goddess, the amulet had brought me love.

The next morning I went about the cottage, performing my usual chores with a lightness in my heart, as if a heavy burden had been lifted. Suddenly it did not seem at all tedious to clean the cabin and air the linens and stoke the fire in preparation for breaking fast.

And the last eve I hadn’t minded when Ma had questioned me about the herbs I had gathered, nor when I was chastised about the dangers of returning home after sunset. I did not think she had believed my story about the herbs being sparse and difficult to find, and I could feel her eyes upon me, watching curiously. No doubt she was surprised by my suddenly blithe spirit.

As was I. The meeting in the woods had changed everything about my dull, suffocating life. Suddenly the Goddess had filled the very air around me with beauty, and the sure knowledge that I would see him again doubled the pleasure in each moment till then.

When Kyra arrived, I was eager to go off with her and tell her everything. And from the way she switched from one foot to the other, I could see she was equally anxious. Likely eager for her love amulet, which she didn’t know the half about.

“I must take some biscuits over to the market at Kirkloch,” Kyra said, resting a heavy basket on the table inside the cottage. Kirkloch was a nearby Christian village with a small marketplace and a blacksmith. “Ma and Da were hoping you would go along. Otherwise Ma will put off her spinning and go with me.”

“May I go?” I asked my mother. I was already untying my apron and brushing soot from my skirt. “I’ve finished my chores.”

But Ma was not so agreeable. “After our encounter with those thieves yesterday, I am not sure it’s safe. And what of the preparations for tonight’s Esbat?” Her arms crossed, Ma watched me with suspicion. Since tonight was the full moon, our coven would gather in the woods for an Esbat—a meeting of witches. We would worship the Goddess and take care of coven matters such as spells and charms. “Have you gathered what we need for the spell over the mill?”

“No, not yet.” I wiped my moist palms on my skirt.

“Then you cannot go. Not when you can’t be trusted to complete your chores and be home before sunset.” I couldn’t believe she was issuing such an edict, but she simply turned back to her spinning, as if I were being punished. Aye, perhaps she was punishing me for glowing with the Goddess’s joy. Sometimes it was impossible to understand my mother.

“But Ma...”

“Please, ma’am,” Kyra beseeched her.

“I’ve made my decision, and that is that!” Ma snapped. Although she didn’t bother to look at me, her anger was palpable.

The breath rushed out of Kyra as she gave me a desperate look.

I knew I had to get out of the cottage before my news burst forth like a cinder popping out of the fire. “The sharp objects I need for the spell,” I said, thinking aloud. “I’ve a good chance of finding things like that along the roadside. Broken spearheads and pointed stones and such.”

My mother stopped spinning, considering.

“And there’s the blacksmith’s shop,” I said. “He is sure to have some discarded metals and arrowheads.”

“Please?” Kyra added.

Ma touched her forehead. “At least you’re thinking like a witch now.”

“And we’ll be back in plenty of time for Esbat,” I said. After dark our coven would gather to celebrate April’s seed moon. It was a time to banish unwanted influences and cast spells of protection—a perfect time to help the MacGreavys out of their dilemma.

“All right, then, you may go,” my mother relented. “But do not forget your chores. I’ll not have the MacGreavys without a spell of protection because a daughter of mine neglected her duties.”

“Aye, Ma,” I said, feeling once again like the put-upon daughter of the high priestess. I hated it, but often I felt as if I did the work while she got the glory.

I grabbed my veil and cloak, not daring to stay to question my mother’s change of heart. The rose stone was in my pocket, a glimmering reminder of the fantastical spell I had conjured, and though I had promised it to Kyra, I was now afraid to part with it. Hence I had sneaked into Ma’s cabinet that morning and found a stone that might do just as well for Kyra—a pale green moonstone, which was known to promote love and compassion.

Before we reached the end of the path, I told Kyra of my meeting in the woods and of the splendid spell the Goddess had given me. As I spoke, her mouth opened, her jaw dropping in amazement.

“A kiss!” Her hand flew to her face. “You let a stranger kiss you?”

“Not a stranger,” I said confidently. “He’s a blood witch. My mùirn beatha dàn — I’m sure of it.”

“Who could he be?” Kyra wondered. “And from what clan?”

“I’ll learn his name and clan today. We’re meeting this afternoon,” I said, smiling at the promise of seeing the sparkle of his eyes again. Reaching into my pocket, I took out the rose stone and held it up to the sky. It glimmered and winked in the sunlight.

“That’s the rose stone?” Kyra asked, staring at it. “Oh, by the Goddess, it does exude power.”

While I dreamed of meeting him again, Kyra went on and on with dire warnings. How I should not trust a stranger. How I must beware anyone from another coven. How it was wrong to lie to my ma. How I shouldn’t have charmed the stone in the first place.

“Aye, but you had no objection when it was to be spelled for you,” I pointed out.

“You’re right.” She flipped a braid over her shoulder and sighed. “I’m a fool in love, and now I’ve even lost my chance at having an amulet.”

“Don’t despair.” I took the moonstone from my pocket and presented it to her with a flourish. “This stone promotes love and sympathy. And I heard one of the coven witches go on about its magickal ability to melt a lovers’ quarrel. It helps to open up emotions between two lovers.”

Kyra’s face turned pink. “But Falkner and I are not lovers!”

“Ah, but you shall be,” I teased in a singsongy voice. “Come, we’ll stop at my circle and charge the moonstone for you.”

My circle in the woods was on the way to Kirkloch, and Kyra had been there before for gathering and practicing spells of our own. Kyra always deferred to me, as we both knew my powers with the Goddess were strong. Of late, some of Síle’s coveners had seemed to notice my powers. Once while Síle was drawing down the moon, coveners saw a halo of light surround me. Me — not the high priestess. My body had trembled with life force that night, but Ma had barely said a word beyond reminding me to ground myself when the rites ended. Sometimes I truly believed she was envious of my powers.