The House Of Gaian

“Once upon a time, we made a whole world out of nothing more than dreams and will.”
    “And earth, water, fire, and air,” Selena said, just as softly.
    “Sunlight and moonbeams as the path between worlds. Do you remember the Crone whom Mother took us to see eight years ago, the summer I turned thirteen and was given my pentagram?”
    Selena reached up and brushed her fingers across her own pentagram. She’d also gone through a ceremony that formally acknowledged the start of a girl’s journey toward becoming a woman of power, a woman of the House of Gaian. And she remembered, at seventeen, standing with her mother and father while the Crones performed the ritual and presented the girls with the pentagrams that symbolized their bond to the Great Mother, that identified them as witches, as the Mother’s Daughters. She couldn’t say then, and couldn’t say now, if she’d been prouder on the day when she’d received her pentagram or on the day when she’d watched Rhyann receive hers.
    “I remember her,” Selena said. “I remember what she taught us that summer.”
    “So do I.
    Selena sighed. “Promise me you won’t travel east of the Mother’s Hills by yourself. Promise me that much.”
    “Will you promise the same?”

    Her temper flashed, and she felt the heat of it under her skin, but she held back the scalding reply she wanted to make. Rhyann’s temper could match hers any day, so what was the point of hot tempers now and hotter tears later when it was love holding the torch to the kindling?
    “I promise the same.”
    Rhyann stared at her in surprise. Then she exhaled gustily and stood up. “Let’s finish packing your saddlebags so I can take care of mine. We’ll need to get an early start tomorrow.”
    Selena stared at the ceiling, seeing nothing in the night-dark room, her heart pounding too hard, too fast.
    Just a dream , she thought as she crawled out of bed and stumbled toward the wash basin. Her hands shook as she poured water from the pitcher into the basin. Just a dream, brought on because I know Rhyann isn‘t going to stay home where it’s safe. Or as safe as any place can be these days .
    She stripped off her sweat-soaked nightgown, then twisted her hair to hold it back long enough to splash some water on her face. She dunked a washcloth in the basin, rung it out, and rubbed it over her body.
    The water didn’t make her feel as chilly as the sweat drying on her skin, and she imagined washing off the scum of the dream along with the sweat.
    Then she focused her thoughts and sent a flicker of the Mother’s branch of fire to the candle sitting on the dressing table. The wick lit, and the single flame softened the dark into varying shades of gray.
    Moving slowly, she went to the dressing table, sank down on the stool, and stared into the mirror.
    The face that stared back at her wasn’t human. Had never looked human. Her hair was a pure black, not the dark brown that was common, and her eyes were a gray-green instead of the brown-flecked green that was the dominant color among the people who came from the House of Gaian. Neither of those things would have drawn much attention to her, but the face ... People looked at her and saw one of the Fae. And she was. May the Mother help her, she was as much Fae as she was witch, the product of an affair between a Fae lady and a feckless young man. The Fae lady hadn’t wanted a child with a mixed heritage, and the feckless young man had turned to his married older brother for help with the babe the lady had left with him before disappearing from all of their lives. Just like the young man, who asked his brother’s wife to watch the babe one afternoon and never came back. A year later, he sent a brief letter, letting his brother know he was well. He didn’t ask about or mention the child, and they never heard from him again.
    There had been times when other children had teased her unkindly about her pointed ears or the shape of her face, when she’d wanted to see the two people whose mating had produced her—to shout and rage and scream at them for being so careless and uncaring. In the end, it hadn’t mattered. Not because of the man, her uncle by blood and father by heart, who had taught her to ride as well as to dance. Not because of the woman he’d married, who had shown her with hugs and scolds that she was a beloved daughter—
    and taught her what it meant to be a witch. In the end, it hadn’t mattered because of Rhyann, the