The House Of Gaian

decided by the one who ruled a particular gift. If she hadn’t made the choice, who had?
    She dismounted, handing her pale mare over to one of her escorts to lead back to the edge of the clearing. She strode past the other women, who hurriedly stepped aside. She took two steps into the circle before she stopped, frozen by a rush of jagged fear.
    Power filled the very center of the clearing, pulsing with the need to be released. So much power. But there was something ... not quite right... about it. It was almost as if the power was the challenger, daring any of them to find a way to take it without being consumed by it.
    But that wasn’t right. Couldn‘t be right. The challenge to ascend and rule a gift always came from another Fae, not the gift itself.
    She took six more steps toward the center of the clearing and what waited there, then stopped, unable to force herself to go any closer.
    “Who challenges me?” she shouted. As she turned slowly to look at all the women gathered in the circle, they averted their eyes. Or, like the ones from the western Clans, they stared apprehensively at the center of the clearing.
    “Who challenges the Lady of the Moon for the right to lead the Fae?”
    No answer. No one stepped forward to test their power against hers.
    Then she saw a glow among the trees, coming toward the clearing. As it came out of the trees, it took shape as a woman riding a gray horse.
    Two Fae males stepped forward to intercept the intruder, took a long look at the woman’s face, then hastily stepped back, bowing respectfully.
    The woman dismounted, rested a hand on her horse’s neck, then walked to the circle. The Ladies of the Moon stepped aside to make room for her, but she walked past them into the clearing until she stopped a few lengths from the center, her face lifted as if she were looking at something hovering above the ground.
    The glow on the woman’s dress, on her skin ... It was as if the moon itself had walked into the clearing.
    Jagged fear slashed through Dianna again. No. There was nothing special about this woman who had intruded into one of the Fae’s private gatherings. There wasn’t. It was just a trick of the starlight. The woman was just an intruder, while she, Dianna, was the Lady of the Moon. How dare this stranger ignore her? This time, when she asked the question, her voice rose in a scream. “ Who challenges me ?”
    Selena heard the words, but they had no meaning. Nothing in the clearing had meaning ... except that glory in its center. She felt the pull of it, the hunger of it, and she felt the jagged need within it.
    It should have been glorious. And it was. But it was also dangerous. Why had these women raised power like this and then never used it? Why hadn’t they released it back into the world, or grounded it to merge with the rest of the magic that lived in the Great Mother? It had the flavor of something that had been done over and over again. They’d taken what they’d needed and had ignored the rest. Now that power was no longer willing to be taken ... or ignored. It was going to release tonight. Whether it became something wonderful or something devastating would depend on how it was shaped by those who could channel it.
    She glanced at the women around the circle. Why weren’t they coming forward to start the dance?
    Couldn’t they feel the urgency? What were they waiting for?
    Her eyes rested briefly on the woman standing opposite her, inside the circle. Was this the current Lady of the Moon? She could see the glow of their magic, could see the waxing and waning of the gift within each woman, just as they could surely see it in her while they stood together in this place. There was strength in the woman standing on the other side of that globe of power, strength that was anchored to earth. But... She looked at the woman directly to her right. That woman also was anchored to earth, and while she wasn’t quite as strong as the woman inside the circle, her power was richer.
    Puzzled, Selena turned slowly to look at the other women. More of them had power anchored to air or fire than earth or water. Neither air nor fire could channel the power that had been raised—at least, not without careful, extensive training—but they could have supported earth and water. Why hadn’t they?
    And what were they waiting for?
    She looked at the woman inside the circle, looked at the clenched hands and a face now hardened by hatred.
    The test. Wasn’t there