"Anya´s Pentacle"

"Anya´s Pentacle"

By;fernand jiro

Prologue

The commander shifted on his black stallion and took in the bloody scene around him.  Women dragged into a line and chained to one another.  Mothers screamed, as their children were murdered before them.  Anyone too old, or too young, sick, injured, or had no useful profession were killed.  Everywhere there were sobs, screams, wails, begs, and pleads.  Each direction was the same, but beside the sobbing, and shrieking women and girls was one calm and silent young woman.  No emotion showed on her pretty face, her brown eyes much like a fawn or a puppy’s.  She didn’t tremble or fidget or flinch.  The highest lady and the lowest slave woman, those with magic and those without sat in the mud screaming, crying, and praying, but this one woman stood calmly, chained arms at her side.  She took in the scene just as the commander did.  He was amazed and curious at her strange behavior.  Her eyes met and held his own.  She was not one to be the first to look away.

“Lieutenant Welsh, bring me the woman with the brown hair standing in the slave line.”  He released the edges of his red cloak, put a hand on his sword, and waited. 

Lieutenant Welsh unlocked the woman, ready to drag her to the commander.  He was surprised when she walked calmly past him to the horse.  The commander looked down at her and asked in a tone that didn’t allow her to stay silent.  “What is your name, girl?”

The woman looked him directly in the eye, a feat even the bravest of the soldiers on his own side were afraid to do and replied, “Korena”. 

The commander smiled.  “Well then, Korena, would you give your oath to The Veiled Ones?  Would you be a Child of the Broken Night?”

“Not on your life.”  Hers was a voice filled with passionate emotion, despite her emotionless expression.

“Then you are content to be a slave?”  The commander shifted slightly on his mount.

The woman gave a small shrug and replied, “It’s nothing new.” 

“That was not my question.”  Before she could blink the commander drew his sword and swung it as if to strike her, stopping suddenly an inch form her neck.  Korena didn’t flinch, only looked silently into his own gray eyes.

“Why don’t you sob or cry?  Do you like all this killing and slavery?  Do you like all the blood and guts, the mother’s earsplitting screams?”

Korena glanced around her.  “It’s nothing new.”  She paused and looked back up at the commander.  “Do you like it?”  The commander blinked, brows drawn together.  He was supposed to ask the questions. 

Before he could move his sword the woman turned and walked back to where the other women were.  She stopped and looked over her shoulder at the astonished Commander and Lieutenant.  “Maybe, if I thought it would make a difference, I would sob and scream.  It doesn’t, so why bother?  Like I said, this is nothing new.”  She took her place in line and Lt. Welsh locked her back up, pushing her back so she had to kneel in the mud or fall backwards.  Korena looked at the mud red with blood and a raindrop trickled down her face and fell to join it.  Or maybe it was a tear.

* * * *

A young boy reached up and touched the pendant that hung beneath his shirt.  Reassured that it was still there he went into town.  Behind him the forest spread out for miles, and the danger that he had left behind him.  He looked at the door frames, searching for the one that had a five pointed star with crescent moons on either side of the top point embossed in the wood.  It didn’t take long to find.  The shutters were open, reveling large looms threaded with bright colors.  A surly faced man answered the boy’s knocks.

“I’m busy, come back later.”  As he started to close the door the boy stuck his arm in.

“Wait, sir, please.  I need to speak with Wave-weaver Keira.”  The door opened and the boy was hulled in by his shirt front. 

“Wait here.”  The man disappeared into the next room where the noise of the looms suddenly stopped.  A woman with blond hair and green eyes entered.  Her blue skirts swirled around her feet as she closed the windows. 

“Please, sit down.”  Her voice was like water rushing over stones.  “Tell me your troubles.”

The boy, nervous but determined to complete his errand launched into a tale.  “I’m Tim.  I’ve been with Mistress Alys since I was about 4.  Well, I was travlin’ with her for a few days because the Hall of Elements was attacked.  She took me and ran.  She’s with child and all and that would be hard enough but she was injured.  I got her as far as I could but I can’t carry her and” The boy paused teary eyed.  “Well, she gave me this pendant and gave me directions.  She told me it’d be faster if I went by myself to find this symbol embossed above the door.  She told me to ask for Wave-weaver Keira.  She made sure I wouldn’t forget to ask for Wave-weaver.  Please, you have to help.”  Tim took a deep breath.  The woman patted him on the shoulder as she walked past calling for her husband, daughter and daughter’s husband.  Two men, one the surly man who had opened the door and the other a younger man with dark brown hair came out of the room with the looms.  A young woman of about twenty followed and they all listened to Keira.  The young woman looked a lot like Keira. 

“Wesley, dear, I need you to ready for protection in case they were followed.  Michael, I need you to help with whatever needs helped with.  Cora, take Tim here to the back and get the two horses.  He will show you were to go.”  Keira bustled around the house to get herbs and make hot water for tea. 

Behind the house there was a small field where two horses, four sheep, and a goat grazed.  Cora took Tim by the arm and hulled him onto a gentle bay mare.  ”Tell me where to go.”  Keira’s daughter held on to Tim and the horses galloped into the direction he had pointed, jumping the fence on the way.

Alys had dragged herself a ways because she was closer to the village than Tim expected.  Alys was burning with fever and covered with sweat, blood, and grime.  One arm protectively covered her protruding belly.  Dark tangled hair stuck to her face and neck where it had come out of its braid.  In a croaky whisper Alys said, “Tim, you brought Cora!”  She seemed surprised the boy had come back, much less with the help she had asked for.  Keira’s daughter knelt beside Alys and helped her to her feet.  Between the two of them, Tim and Cora got Alys onto the spare horse, a chestnut mare.  Leaves left over from last year’s fall clung to her.  Carefully they took her back to the weaver’s home. 

Keira made a bed for Alys and washed her.  She came out and looked gravely at Tim.  “It’s almost time, a few days and the baby will be born, if she makes it.  I’m going to do everything I can to get her through this, but you must be told.  She probably will not make it.”  Keira hugged the boy.  “Do not blame yourself, young one.  Alys is proud of you and very grateful.”  Keira seeped the herbs in the leftover hot water and disappeared back into the other room.  Tim fidgeted outside the door, waiting.  Once in a while Keira would come out and make more tea, get more herbs and disappear again, the whole time mumbling about poison.  She smiled at Tim in reassurance, but the expression was strained and didn’t reach her eyes.

Cora did her best to occupy his mind, but mostly he just sat beside her, head in her lap.  Two hours later Keira came out.  “I’ve cleaned and bandaged her arm and propped up her sprained ankle.  I’m working on the fever, but it is mostly time and rest that will heal that.  She is sleeping.  You may go in if you wish, but do not wake her.”  Tim leapt up and stuck his head in the room.  Sure enough Alys lay in bed, asleep.  He stood still by the bed for a moment then pulled the pentacle pendant off his neck and put it in her hand.  He left the room quietly, looking over his shoulder before he closed the door.  He fell asleep in the front room near the fire place, listening to the soothing lullabies of Keira and Cora, but woke to something quite different early in the morning.

“Tim, bring me some clean linen.  Hurry now.”  Cora boiled water for her mother, indifferent to the shouts and sobs coming from the other room.  Tim grabbed as much bandage as his eleven- year-old arms could hold and carried them to the door.  Cora took them from him with a kind smile, but shut the door before he could even glimpse what was happening.  Voices encouraged Alys and ordered her not to give up or to breathe or push. 

Wesley took him firmly by the shoulders and steered him firmly across the room to the table.  All the while he explained that birthing was a woman’s job.  “Don’t worry so much, boy.  They all sound like that when they are in labor, even my Keira.”  He spoke gruffly but kindly.  He and his son-in-law sat with Tim by the fire.  Cora’s husband looked a little un-nerved at the screams, but birthing was nothing new to him.  “Michael here knows what I mean.  Your Mistress Alys will be just fine.  How do you know Alys, anyhow?”  Tim took his eyes from the door.

“My mother died when I was four.  She and Mistress Alys were best friends at school and were together lots of times at the Hall of Elements.  I was in the nursery for most of that though.  Alys is my Goddess-mamma.  She’s been taking care of me ever since then.”

Wesley looked at him.  “Your Ma was Tanya?  You don’t look much like your ma, except your smile.  Tanya always had a wonderful smile, and laughed all the time.”  Tim nodded.  “Keira, Alys, and Tanya were best friends.”  Tim looked back at the door in surprise.  He hadn’t known that his mother had ever seen Keira, let alone that she had a good friendship with the woman.

At noon the baby was still un-born.  Tim began to get more nervous and refused to move from beside the door.  A few hours after noon the shouts stopped and a baby was heard shrieking.  Tim opened the door a crack so he could see, hopefully without Keira or Cora noticing and throwing him out again.  Keira stood by the bed, sleeves rolled up, and arms bloody, talking in low tones.  Tim opened the door wider and stepped inside.  Alys, deathly pale and terribly exhausted, held a small bundle.  Keira turned at the sound of the door and waved Tim over.  Alys attempted a smile but managed only a wince. 

“Tim.”  Her voice was horse form screaming and weak with exhaustion.  “This is Aneira, your god-sister.  You must watch over and protect her.  Love her like your own sister.  Can you do this for me and for her?” 

Tim nodded, tears dripping down his cheeks.  “I love you.” 

Alys managed a small yet real smile and replied.  “I know.  I love you too.  I must go now, go to the Goddess.  Though I’m gone, I will never leave you.  I’m in your heart and on the wind.  Don’t you ever forget that.” 

Tim hugged her, tears falling onto her shoulder.  Alys’ breathing grew shallower and more ragged.  She kissed his cheek and the baby’s forehead.  She whispered something to faint to hear and slipped into death.

A wail caught in Tim’s throat.  He picked up Aneira, half an encircled silver five pointed star peaked out of the blanket.  Cora took him out of the room so Keira could say goodbye in her own way.

“Cora, what’s her middle name?”  

Cora looked at the boy holding the baby.  “She didn’t say.” 

Tim looked down in his arms.  “Alys.  Aneira Alys.”  Tim held the baby close and kissed her.

When Keira came out her face was wet.  She washed her hands and arms and sat down at the table.  For the first time the house was completely quiet except for the crackling fire.  Keira held in her grief and took a deep breath.  “Tim, we need to talk.  Alys and you both said that the Hall was attacked, but neither of you mentioned by who.” 

Tim moved to the table and sat beside Keira.  Cora held the baby tenderly.  “I don’t know who they were.  I remember that they all had cloaks with red on the inside.  Some, I think the leading people, had red on both sides.  They all had black swords with red markings down the blade.  I couldn’t see the faces of most of them.”  Tim shuddered.  “I couldn’t understand them most of the time ‘cause they spoke another language.  They held fire but not on torches, in their bare hands.  That’s all.”  Everyone in the room paled.  Tim looked around the table.

“Children of Broken Night,” Keira whispered.  “The Veiled ones have returned.”  No one spoke.  Keira stood and began to put food in a bag.  “Cora, Michael, you take Tim and the baby.  Go to the Half Heart’s Grove.  Hide there.  The Veiled one’s can not sense you because you are only Starchildren, and not those with Goddess Power.  Don’t argue.  Aneira isn’t even near strong enough to be sensed.  You must do this.” 

Cora began to protest then looked at her mother’s face and shut her mouth.  Her eyes filled with tears but she nodded.

  “Listen closely now.  I know how to forget you and no one else saw you come in.  None of townsfolk know about the baby or Tim.  You take up residence at the cottage at Half Heart’s Grove.  No one lives there and there is a town close by.  Cora and Michael will be mother and father to Aneira.  Tim you will be Michael’s nephew, the orphaned son of his older sister.  Pack quickly, the sooner you are gone the better.” 

Cora stood and went up to the loft to pack clothes.  Tim hadn’t brought anything with him so he just sat with Aneira.  Keira brought out some clothes for Tim and Aneira from the shop.  She also got down a few baby items from her attic that could be used.  All was nicely woven and would last a long time.  By dinner time they were ready to leave the town.  Tim went into the spare room where Alys had been but she was gone without a trace.  They all said their goodbyes.  They left while the town ate their dinner and were forever forgotten.

Chapter One

Eleven Years Later.  Cottage at Half Heart’s Grove

“Anya, are you almost done?  I need those eggs, dear.” 

A young girl with dark hair and dusky skin and the gray-green eyes like the sea after a storm looked over her shoulder at the cottage behind her.  It was made of stone and bundles of colored wool hung under the eves.

“I only have five.  I don’t know if there’s more.”  She stood and picked up a small basket with the five eggs cushioned by natural colored wool.  A blond woman with bright green eyes like the moss beneath the great tree to the North stirred something at the table.  “Here, Ma, can I catch up with Da and Tim now?  They could be half way to the Market by now!” 

The woman smiled.  “Yes, they forgot lunch, take it to them.”  The woman turned to hand a bigger basket filled with cheese, bread, apples, and water flasks.  She tisked at her daughter.  “Change aprons first and redo your hair; try combing it before you braid it.  Off you go now.” 

Anya grinned and complied before running off, still in the process of putting on her clean white apron.  Anya held her green skirts up with one hand so she wouldn’t trip as she ran.  At first she could see no one on the road, then, as she stopped to catch her breath on the top of a hill she saw two men with a wagon below.  With a shout she tore off again, crying for them to wait for her. 

“Tim!  Da!  You forgot lunch.” 

The two men slowed the wagon to a stop and jumped down.  The solidly built man in his late thirties took the basket and set it on the wagon bench, putting a hand on Anya’s head. 

“You promised you would wait for me.  You promised and you didn’t wait.”  Anya folded her arms across her chest with a frown.

“Aye and you promised you’d be quick and you weren’t.”  Her father mimicked her expression and crossed his arms as well.  The younger man, taller than the first smiled and pulled Anya up over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

“Uncle Michael, what should we do with her, being the liar she is?”  Anya giggled and squirmed.

“Tim, please, I won’t lie!  It was an accident!  Ma said I couldn’t go until I redid my braid and changed my apron.”

Michael smiled.  ”Oh, now you’re blaming your mother.  That’s twice the punishment.  But we will be late.”  He moved the basket to the back of the wagon with the piles of cloth.  There was blue, green, brown, and even red and purple.  “Torture will have to wait until after market.” 

Tim and Anya climbed up to the wagon bench.  Tim was wiry but muscular, and, thankfully for most people, had stopped growing.  Many of the girls had hoped she’d be the one he would marry but at twenty two going on twenty three, he was still single.  Tim didn’t even have a sweetheart.  He rarely flirted like most of the young men of the village did.  There were many times he was asked why.  The answer was always the same.  ‘When a girl makes my heart skip a beat the first time I look at her.  When I have to remember to breathe every time I hear her voice.’

A few minutes later music and voices from the town were heard.  Midsummer Market was always a busy time.  Every female had flowers, whether it was her first midsummer or it would be her last.  All wore their best clothes and the men had favors from their sweethearts or wives pinned on coats and shirts.  Booths were set up in the center field selling food and drink, jewelry, ribbons, herbs, metalwork, and toys.  Michael and Tim set up their shop, displaying bolts of cloth and some pre-made items.  Anya flitted around, looking at the booths near her own until Tim laughingly dragged her away.

“Anya, you’re here to help.  You can look later, the booths aren’t going anywhere.”  Anya sat between her cousin and father, helping count out change, take down orders and measure both people and cloth; her mother had required that she learn to read, write, and do figures at a young age.  She loved Midsummer.  A garland of flowers crowned her head over dark braids.

“Da, can I go look at the other booths?  Please, Da.”

Michael ran a hand through short dark brown wavy hair.  “Alright.  Do you have money to buy anything?”  Anya shook her head and her father handed her five copper pieces to spend.  Anya ran off looking at buttons, lace, and ribbons at the booth across form theirs.  She wandered around looking at every booth.  Off to the side stood a large man with his hood up, even thought it was not hot.  He wore the garb of a woodsman in earthy tones.  The cloak though, instead of being green or brown was black and the lining was red.  One hand rested on the pommel of the sword at his hip.  It had a silver hilt wrapped in black leather.  It made Anya uneasy.  She continued to wander the booths, listening to the music.

In the center of the field stood a large pole from which that ribbons of every color hung.  Young women, older than Anya by a few years, but too young to be married were weaving the ribbons around the pole.  A small group with fiddle, drum, harp, lute, and flute played the music heard throughout the town of Otter Creek.  A singer sang a merry tune to which the young maidens danced with the ribbons.  Anya lingered for a while, half wishing she could join the young women but she had two years to wait.  The eldest dancer was eighteen.  This was her last time to dance for she would be married six months later.  Her fiancé was John Gallagher the baker’s son.  She laughed and twirled under a younger girl’s arm.  Over and under they wove the ribbons, around and around the pole they danced until Anya was sure they were dizzy.

Anya ran off again to look at the booths and spend her money.  She stopped to look at the carvings of wood and bone.  Most were animals and a few were plants but one was a strange design with a diameter of about one inch.  She frowned and fingered the small flat disk and the intertwining pieces.  It had a loop so a chain could be strung through it and hung around one’s neck.  The merchant paid little attention to her until she picked it up and turned it over and over in the light. 

“Ah, little lady, that be the Spiral of the Night.  It be very rare.  It costs three gold pieces.”  Anya looked up at him; the most anything had ever cost her was seven and a half silver pieces.  Three gold pieces was thirty silver pieces.  She gently set the disk down and tried to take interest in the other carvings.  As she bent to see some closer up she noticed a familiar symbol embossed in the velvet cloth.  She traced the star and crescent moons with her finger, her other hand drew out the silver pendent beneath her dress and held it tightly in her hand.  The merchant watched with interest, hoping to catch a glimpse of the pendant.  Anya blinked and let go of her necklace and glanced back at the Spiral of the Night.  She ran her finger across it one last time and turned to look more closely at the other booths.  The merchant caught her hand.

“Wait, little lady, you seem to like this quite a bit.  Would you like it?  You may keep it.”  The merchant took the pendant up along with a silver rope-chain and wrapped it in a piece of soft black silk.  Anya stared at the man, eyes wide.  She looked at him closely, eyes slightly narrowed.  He reached to the left and tapped the side of his wagon.  Anya took her five copper pieces and set them down on the booth.  As she passed the wagon she glanced and saw that embossed in the wood was the same symbol as on the velvet and her star pendant.  She looked back at the merchant who was talking to another costumer.  He winked at her when he saw her and waved her off with a smile.

Back at her own wagon she sat beside Tim.  “Tim, what does my star pendant mean?”  She whispered her question in his ear.  Her cousin looked sharply down at her and she pulled her necklace out from under her dress again.

“Put it away Aneira Alys Kaidakailani!”  Quickly she did as he asked.  She was startled that he had used her full name.  “I’ll explain when we get home.”  Anya nodded and sat quietly for the rest of the day, one hand always in her apron pocket wrapped around the bone disk.

As it grew dark the family packed up the wagon and headed home.  “Anya, why did you take out your pendant?  You know better than that.  Why, I must have reminded you everyday when you were little.”  Michael gazed at his daughter his face serious.  Anya turned her head to look at Tim who looked away quickly.  Anya saw that his expression was the same as her fathers but Tim’s eyes held more sadness.

“I’m sorry.  I wasn’t thinking and I wanted to make sure that Tim knew what I was talking about.  I just wanted to know what it means, and why I have it.”  Anya glanced at Tim again, expression hurtful.  She hadn’t expected him to tell her father.

“Uncle Michael, I don’t think anyone saw it.  Besides even if someone did she was turned toward me and wouldn’t have seen all of it.  Not that it makes a difference; no one knows what it means.”

Michael nodded.  “No one saw it, did they Anya?”  Anya didn’t answer, she was thinking about the merchant that gave her the Spiral of the Night pendant.  Michael’s voice turned harsh.  “Did they, Aneira?”  Anya shook her head and Michael sighed.

“Well, not that time anyway.” 

Both Michael and Tim turned toward her with an exclamation.  “You took it out twice!” 

Anya practically burst into tears.  She nodded and sat forward so she wouldn’t have to see their faces.  “Yes.  It was a merchant from out of town.  He had it embossed in the velvet all the carvings sat on.  It was embossed on his wagon too.  I don’t think that anyone else saw it.”  They were quiet for a while.  When Anya could see the cottage, the windows brightly lit with lanterns, she spoke again.  “What is it and what does it mean?”  To her surprise it was Tim who answered not her father.

“It’s called a Pentacle.  It’s the symbol of those who follow the Goddess.  It means Goddess Power.  With the crescent moons it means Triple Goddess Power.” 

Anya didn’t know what she expected but that wasn’t it.  Not much was known about those who followed the Goddess.  They were a secret religion and had their own magic power.  It could skip a generation or even two or three.  Sometimes it just appeared in a person whose whole family didn’t possess the magic.  Anya was silent as she went into the house.  She was confused and a little bewildered.  She went up the stairs to her room and sat on the bed.  She could here voices through the floor. 

“Cora, we can’t tell her.  She’ll be so upset, and well, we’re trying to protect her.  It’s best she doesn’t know for a few more years.”  Frowning Anya crept to the top of the stairs where she could hear better than in her room.

“Michael, dear, I have to disagree.  For one she’ll be upset either way.  Two, we have to tell her sooner or later.  And three, knowledge protects.  Ignorance won’t help.  You don’t have to be the one to tell her.”  Anya could hear her father begin to protest, but he was cut off by his wife.  “Michael, she won’t hate you.  She knows that you love her and it won’t matter to her who her real father is.”  Anya gasped and almost fell down the steps.  “Of course she will be angry, but she’ll realize later on that we love her and want to protect her.” 

Anya stood on the stairs, frozen.  Even when Tim said he was going to bed she couldn’t move.  Her heart beat to the rhythm of his footsteps.  He paused at the foot of the stairs when he saw her but, seeing that she was in shock, didn’t scold her or tell her parents.  He scooped her up into his arms and carried her to his own room.

“How much did you hear?”  He sat on the bed with her. 

“All of it.  Da isn’t, isn’t my real da?”  Anya’s voice broke and tears began to flow down her cheeks.  Tim comforted her and began to tell her story.

“It started when I was four years old and my mother died.  She had been best friends with Alys Wind-walker.  Both my mother and Alys were women of Goddess power.  Alys was my goddess-mother and she took me in and gave me love.  She became my mother under the Goddess.  Several years later the hall of Elements, the Goddess Temple and School where we lived, was attacked by men with red-lined black cloaks and black blades.  Alys took me and we ran away.  We didn’t make very good time because she was with child.  In the end I had to leave her and find her friend Keira, a woman with the Goddess Power and the weaver to a nearby village.  Keira was known as the Wave-weaver to those who knew of her power.  I brought back Keira’s daughter, Cora and we took Alys to the weaver’s house.  Keira took care of her and a few days later a little girl was born, you.”  Tim looked at Alys who held her Goddess pendant tightly in her right hand.  “You are named after Keira and my mother; Tanya, and Alys; your mother.  Aneira Alys Kaidakailani.  Anyhow, the people who attacked the Hall were looking for us.  Keira did a spell so she and her husband would forget who you and I were.  Cora and Michael took us here to Half Heart’s Grove.” 

Anya sat beside Tim for a while trying to decide which of the questions that whirled about in her mind she would ask.

“What happened to Alys?”  She couldn’t bring herself to say mother. 

Tim pushed back light brown hair form his face.  “She died, soon after you were born.  She was sick and injured, you see.”  He paused and looked at Anya.  “You look almost exactly like her, except that your skin is duskier than hers and you will be taller.”  He smiled at Anya.  “You know, that means that under the Goddess, you are my sister, not my cousin.” 

Anya nodded, stifling a yawn.  She was upset, but all the information at once had dulled all her emotions except the shock.  She was about to ask another question when Tim picked her up again. 

“You should get ready for bed; it’s been a long day.”  He carried her to her room then grinned suddenly.  “You know what; we never gave you your torture from this morning.” 

Anya screamed and scrambled from his arms.  He chased her around the room for a bit before tackling her and tickling her until she could barely breathe from laughing so hard.  A small black silk packet fell out of her apron pocket. 

“Tim, do you want to see what I bought from Midsummer Market?” 

Tim yawned and waved a hand at her.  “Maybe tomorrow, go to bed.”  Tim closed the door of Anya’s room behind him and the house grew quiet.  Anya dreamed of men with black blades and who held fire in their bear hands.

* * * *

Anya awoke to sounds of breakfast sizzling in the fire.  She quickly rolled out of her bed and washed.  She changed from her summer night shirt to a shift of slightly heavier material, her work dress of steel blue, and her everyday apron.  She galloped barefoot down the stairs to the kitchen. 

“Morning Da.  Morning Ma.  Morning Tim.”  She sat at her usual spot at the table and her mother served up some bacon and a breakfast pie.  She noticed that her mother was unusually silent as she bustled around the kitchen.  She didn’t hum or sing as she worked and she didn’t smile.  Half way through breakfast Anya had had all she could take. 

“What’s wrong?”  Yesterday’s conversation came to her then.  She paused for a moment, unsure of how to react.  She was upset, surprised, but curious as well.  She finally got the courage to speak, her voice soft and shaky.  “Oh.  You’re afraid to tell me that you weren’t my real parents and you think I’m mad that you didn’t tell me before.”  Her voice started to rise in volume.  “Well you’re right, I’m upset.  You shouldn’t have lied to me about that.  Parents don’t lie to their real children!  But like Tim said, you cared for me and under the Goddess you are my parents.” 

Tim edged toward the door as Cora and Michael stared at Anya in surprise.  He had one foot outside when Cora whirled at him.

“Tim!”  Tim winced but sat back down in his chair.  Cora hid her relief that she hadn’t had to break the news to Anya.  Before she could scold him further, Anya broke in

“Oh!  It’s not his fault, well not the first part any way.”  She could tell Cora and Michael were both thinking the first part.  “I heard you last night.  Then Tim went up to bed and saw me.  He explained what really happened from the beginning.  I still think you should have told me.  I have some questions.”  As one, Anya’s family heaved a sigh.  “Who attacked the Hall of Elements and why would some one do something so horrible?”  A look was passed a round the table.  Again Tim was the one to answer.

“The Children of Broken Night attacked the Hall of Elements.  They are also called the Veiled Ones.  Sometimes they wear veils, but other time’s not.  The commanders never do.  I do not know why they attacked but they seemed to be looking to something and from what I could understand, there was a prophecy involved.  Half Heart’s Grove has its own protections and shields so that’s why we are here.”  

Anya shook her head.  “I don’t understand.  Last night you said you wanted to protect me, but this doesn’t have anything to do with me, as far as I can tell.”  Anya tossed dark curls over her shoulder and took another bite of breakfast pie. 

Cora sat down to eat her own breakfast and answered the question.  “Well you see, we three are the children of those with Goddess Power but we ourselves don’t have it.  We are what are known as Starchildren.  You however have the Power.  You’re very strong.  You might even have Triple Goddess Power.  You would make a very good tool against the people of the Goddess, especially untrained.  I imagine you would be sought out by the Veiled Ones.” 

“Could anyone get a black cloak with red lining or only the Veiled Ones?  Are we safe here?  Do I have to leave here because they will attack you?  Where would I go?  Would I go to a school of the Goddess?  What if they find us or--”

“Child, calm down.  One question at a time, dear.  No one but the Veiled Ones can get a cloak with red lining, they make them themselves.  Yes, we are safe here, unless they some how come close enough to sense the shields.  You do not have to leave and yes you have to go to a school of the Goddess.  If the shields fail there are other protections.  We should give you one to take with you always.”

Michael got up as his wife waved him up to their room.  “Is he getting the Spiral?”  Tim asked.  Cora nodded and Anya looked up again.

“Spiral, you mean like a Spiral of the Night?”  Anya reached into her pocket and pulled out the silk wrapped disk.  “I bought one yesterday from the merchant with the star, I mean Goddess Pendant embossed into his wagon.”  She un-wrapped the black silk and displayed the bone disk and silver rope chain.         “This is much better than ours.  Ours are just some things I wove and embroidered.”  Cora ran her finger over the smooth bone. 

Michael came back down the stairs three colored tapestries in hand.  One was smaller than the rest and could be easily folded and tucked into a pocket or pack.  The other two were larger and ment to be hung up in one’s room.  They all had a multitude of colors, from red and copper to periwinkle and purple to aqua and green.  Anya gasped at their beauty.

“Ma, did you really make these?”  Cora smiled and nodded she folded the small one up and gave it to Anya, who pocketed her new treasure immediately.  “Thank you!”  Anya ran to the other side of the table and threw her arms around her mother.  Cora laughed and hugged her back.

“Oh, get on with you now, you have your chores and I have my baking to do.  If you finish early you can pick a few colors and after the Mid-day meal I’ll teach you how to make your own Spiral of the Night.”  In a heart beat Anya was out the door with a smile and a wave.

Anya grabbed a basket and skipped off to gather the hen’s eggs.  They had three hens and a rooster.  One of the hens, Tiara was very good at hiding at least one, if not all of her eggs.  Tiara was the queen of the hens, always primping and polishing her feathers or ordering the other hens around.  On average there were six eggs, usually all the hens laid 2, but on occasion one laid three and another only one.  Anya found all but two eggs, probably Tiara’s eggs.  It took her ten minutes to find one, under the roots of a big hazelnut tree and another 15 minutes to find the second, in the hedge across the road. 

“Tiara, I hope you’re happy!  Silly thing.”  She quickly let their small flock of sheep into the field on the other side of the hedge.  She cleaned out their pen and put some new straw for them to sleep on to one side.  She patted the goat on the way into the house; she was Tim’s responsibility.  The rest of her chores didn’t take too long.  She swept the entire house and tidied her small room.  In a few months she’d go a gathering for fruit, nuts, and mushrooms as well as help add to the fire wood pile for winter.

 “Ma?  I’m going to pick my colors now.”  Anya wondered into the room beside the kitchen where a large loom hung from the ceiling.  There was a large rack of colored thread, a spinning wheel, a second rack of died wool, several drop spindles, and a lap loom.  She ran her fingers over the colored threads.  Finally she chose red, amber, black and one of the lighter blues.  Using her pocket sized tapestry as a pattern Anya decided how she’d arrange the colors on the design.

Her mother was a while in coming so Anya thought.  She remembered that there was a man at the Midsummer Market Fest the day before with a red lined cloak.  Could he be a Veiled One?  Her mother had said that only the Veiled Ones had black cloaks lined with red.  Could they still be after her and if they were was that the reason the man was at the Midsummer Market?  She hoped not.  How could they have found were she was?  Anya shook her head in dismissal of the thought. 

 “Alright, dear one.  Let’s get started.  Is the black your base color?”  Cora beaconed with a hand.  Anya stood and looked over her shoulder.  “After you thread the loom, I need you to tell me which colors are for what.”  Cora and Anya worked for an hour on the Spiral of the Night.  One hour was all too soon to call it quits, or so Anya felt.

 “We need to work on the orders, dear.  You can work on your Spiral later, it there is time.”  Cora gently pulled Anya toward the largest loom so she could start weaving the cloaks.  “Hop to it.”  Cora left to check on the baking before she came to help with the weaving. 

Anya grumbled for a while but obediently threaded the loom in the forest green that they made cloaks from.  She liked to weave, but if the pattern didn’t have any designs it could get boring.  As she wove the shuttle over and under the strands she lost herself in the routine.  The sound calmed her; forest green, earth brown, forest green, earth brown over and under, over and under. 

And so the years past uneventful for Anya and her family.  No one came looking for her and she lived happily for four more years.

Chapter Two

The Night’s Void

            “My lady, I’ve come to make my report.  We have found Aneira Alys Kaidakailani.”  The man in the red cloak bowed deeply to the woman on the thrown. 

            “What do you mean, you “found” her?  You found her four years ago.”

The commander hesitated for a moment, “my Lady, four years ago we found her, yes.  We lost her a few days later, we could no longer sense her and some force made us leave the area.  It was as if we forgot what we were looking for and why.  Forgive me, Lady.  I have failed you and our master.”  He bowed again, even more deeply than before.  He barley kept himself from cringing when the woman stood, platinum and honey hair falling from her lap to the floor.  She placed a cold hand on his bare neck. 

            “Take heart, Commander Galen, for I can not kill you for your failure.  But know I will not forgive easily and I never forget.  On the morrow you will return to little Anya, and continue your observations.  When the time is right, and it will be soon, I will send word.  When I do you’ll know it is time.  I want that girl, Galen.”  Her hand seemed to shroud in shadow and she tightened her grip on Commander Galen’s unprotected neck.  His scream was heard down in the deepest dungeon and in the tallest tower of The Night’s Void.

***

           

March 16th, 1677 Age of the Unicorn

Saint Cassie’s Temple

My dearest Family,

            How is everything at Half Heart’s Cottage?  I hope everything is as well as your messages say.  The Priestesses say we shall have a free day soon, and not long after that there will be a Holiday.  I can visit then.  I know that the Holiday is in about one month.  I shall write when I know the exact date.  Classes are going well, I have another promotion coming up on Midsummer.  The Priestesses say that I am doing well and am a fast learner, but I still don’t think so.  Things move so slowly in my view.  Maybe I progress faster because my Goddess Power is stronger than all the other Novices, and even some of the Upper-class Trainees.  My time is almost up, I’ll write more tomorrow.  Goodnight.  I love you Ma, Da, and Tim.

                        Blessings upon you,

                                    Anya

            Anya finished her name with a flourish and cleaned up the small desk beside her bed.  She glanced at the orbs of light, “Nyx, désalumné.”  The lights winked out and Anya climbed into bed to welcome the envelope of sleep.

            A loud crash awoke her, suddenly pulling her from her dreams.  The sound of breaking glass on a hard wood floor was hardly a pleasant way to be brought from sleep.  Anya looked toward her window, sure enough light was peaking out from under the curtains.  No doubt Teryl had tried a levitation spell on the wash basin again.  The levitation spell was very difficult and a wash basin was to big for beginners.

            Anya flipped the covers off of her and grabbed a shawl from the chair by her bed.  Several other girls stood in the hall way, attracted by the sound of braking glass.  Anya poked her head into Teryl’s triple sized room.  The other two girls sat on their beds so they wouldn’t step on the glass that had been scattered all over the floor.

            “Teryl, did you have to attempt a levitation spell in the morning before everyone woke up?  You know it’s too hard.” 

            Teryl looked up from sweeping.  “It is not too hard; you succeeded in levitating that soup bowl last week.”

            Anya gave the girl an exasperated look.  “And as I said last week, it was an accident.  I don’t know how I did it.  I haven’t accomplished even lifting a twig one centimeter since.  It isn’t a competition, you know.”  Teryl often tried to do the same things Anya did, expecting to learn the same things at the same rate.  Nine times out of ten, Teryl failed, often breaking something or blacking out in the process. 

            The week before one of the boys had run into Carla during lunch.  The boy dropped his plate of food and both he and Carla toppled form the impact.  Anya had somehow kept Carla’s soup bowl form falling on top of the pair.  She hadn’t even spilled a drop.  Not even the five priestesses or two priests knew how she did it. 

            “I’ll go get you a dust pan.” Anya left the room before Teryl could reply.  She wandered down the hall to the opposite end where there was a broom closet.  There were several broom closets in the temple where Anya was being taught how to use her Goddess Power.  There were three wings attached to the main building; the student wing, the staff wing, and the Charity wing.  There were two hall ways in the student wing, the boy’s hall and the girl’s hall.  In the front of the temple was the charity wing:  rooms for the homeless, and class rooms for the poor and orphaned children. 

            “Aneira, whatever are you doing?”  A short woman in a moss green and sky blue robe stood over her, hands resting on her hips.  Anya sat back on her heels.

            “I was looking for the dust pan, ma’am.  It isn’t hanging on the hook so I was looking on the floor.”  Anya waited patiently for a response, looking in the closet form the corner of her eye.  The dust pan was sitting in the mop bucket, the strings of the mop half covering it.

            “I see.”  The priestess looked down on her for a moment longer before heading down the hall. 

            Anya hurried to Teryl, Pierette, and Raquel’s room.  She tossed the dust pan through the open door.  “Our wake-up call is coming, it’s Priestess Curia.”  She closed their door and rushed into her room to wash up before the priestess got to their end of the hall.  She heated the water in the pitcher with a rune sketched on the surface of the water.  She had finished washing and making her bed when Priestess Curia knocked once and opened the door. 

            Anya stood waiting for Priestess Curia to comment on something.

            “I’m glad you’ve cleaned your room for once, Aneira.  Get dressed and come to breakfast.  Your chore today is in the Charity Wing.”  The priestess surveyed the room one last time and left the student’s wing. 

            Anya pulled off her white night gown and laid it one the foot of the bed.  She dressed in a shift, under gown of maroon, and over gown of sage.  The fabric of the over gown was sturdy; the kind one wore when you expected to get dirty. 

            The dining room was plain with inexpensive furniture ment to last a long time, despite rough handling.  The temple’s staff had chosen this furniture so that the homeless, who ate in the same room, would not break it.  Anya thought that was a bit of a bias, but they did tend to have a few brawls now and again.  A large table was set buffet-like along the wall.  Fresh fruit, biscuits, cheese, and oatmeal were set up on the table. 

            She filled her plate and looked around the room for her friends.  Tammy, Kari, and Bret sat on one end of a table.  She sat in the spot they had saved for her.  “Morning.  Are any of you three on Charity duty today, besides me?"  Anya was grateful when Bret said he would be with her.  Charity was her favorite of the duties, but it was more fun with a friend.  Both finished eating quickly and put their wooden dishes into the tub so that whoever was on Kitchen duty could carry them away with ease. 

            Bret and Anya headed down to the Charity wing to wake up their Charity group.  Often they had to be quite firm to get them to wash; most thought it was bad for you to do so. 

            “If you don’t wash on your own I shall do it for you, even if I have to tie you to the columns out front.”  Bret and Anya bullied and sweet-talked the Charity wing occupants to wash and get into a relatively straight line.  The pair followed the line to make sure no one left, a sort of rear guard.  Three others led the procession to the dining hall.  The line stopped at the table and the line leaders served porridge with cream, honey, and cinnamon.  Sometimes there was dried or fresh fruit to go along with the porridge, but not today. 

            Anya and Bret helped to serve at the second pot.  A young girl named Gemma was the last person to be served.  She was around five or six years old but no one knew for sure, least of all the girl herself.  She was very small for her age and sometimes sounded more like a noble’s child than a homeless kid.  Because of her petite build her clothes were a bit big on her as well.  Her hair was light brown and cut very short.  Her eyes were large and nutmeg colored.  Anya got a start the first time she saw the girl because she looked so much like Bret. 

            “Here you go, Sugar.”  Anya stirred in the honey, cream and cinnamon and handed the wooden bowl and spoon to the girl.

            “Thank you Miss Anya, Mr. Bret.”  Gemma smiled reveling two dimples in her chubby cheeks.  Her cheeks were the chubby thing about her.  She had lost most of her baby fat and had a remarkable metabolism so that she always looked on the edge of scrawniness.  Anya couldn’t help but smile every time Gemma scrambled up onto the bench with her food.  Her feet barely touched the ground.  

            One by one, bowls, cups, and spoons were carried back up to the table.  All were accounted for and the Charity group was led back to their wing for reading, writing, and simple arithmetic was taught.  Everyone stayed there until they were fully taught and chose to help others of the Charity, become a part of the temple, or get a job else where.  Most stayed to help with the Charity but that never lasted long and they moved on.

            Bret taught the older children and Anya taught the younger children.  The younger ones were just learning to write words other than their names. 

            “Cow.  K-ow.  Remember what letters make the Kuh sound?”  and “Now write down how you think these words are spelled.  It, is, no, yes, up, down, home, the, and.”  This was most of what Anya did for two hours.  There were breaks because the children got restless and distracted, fortunately.

            Anya looked down at the tug on her skirt.  It was Gemma.

“Miss Anya, I found a baby kitty.”  Gemma held her bundled shawl close to her.

            “May I see it, please, Sugar?”  Anya knelt down beside Gemma and held out her arms.  “I promise I won’t take it away form you.  Hey you cute thing.  Yes, cheetie, hello there.  Awwww.  We’ll get it some cream when class is done in a few minutes, alright.” 

            Anya and Gemma left the Charity wing for the kitchen right after class was dismissed.

“Here we go.  Put the kitty down and see if it will drink something.”  Both girls knelt beside the bowl of warm cream and tried to get the cat to drink.  The cream was gone very quickly.

            “Girls, what are you doing in here?”  Once again that morning a Priestess stood over Anya with hands on her hips.  Anya thanked the Goddess that it was not Priestess Curia.

            “Oh, Priestess Seraphina, we were just feeding this kitten that little Gemma found this morning.  It doesn’t have a mother, poor cheetie.  I didn’t think that would be a problem.  I’m sorry if I was wrong.”

            Priestess Seraphina smiled kindly and stroked the kitten before continuing on her way.  She was a little bit of the Goddess, that woman.

            The girls watched the kitten eat and discussed names.  Finally Gemma chose Loreena for the grey tabby’s name.  Anya rushed Gemma back to the Charity wing before rushing to her own classes.