American Goth (34 page)

I took a tentative sip. It was sweet, almost overwhelmingly so, and the taste made me think of pears.

The sense of excitement and expectation grew, was a palpable haze in the neoprimitive scene that blossomed before my eyes.

“C’mon,” Graham said, appearing at my shoulder out of seemingly nowhere, “we have to wait here.” His eyes danced with reflected flame, with his own energy. His outline hazed, shifted and glowed, and I glanced over to Cort, who nodded.

“Go on,” he said and grinned at me, “go join the other young bucks.”

I glanced at Graham, who smiled widely. “It’s a traditional…test,” he said. “C’mon!” and he pulled on my elbow.

“Good luck!” Cort called and waved at me.

Bemused, I walked with Graham, careful not to spill my drink as we crossed the yard, and he took me downfield where a knot of people gathered. “Here,” he said, “we wait here. Have another sip,” he said kindly. “You’ll
see
.”

I hesitated a moment as I looked about me, the energy thick as it swirled around us with the heavy, edgy bite of expectation. “You feel it already,” Graham said quietly into my ear, “because you walk between worlds. This,” and he hefted the drink he carried in his own hand, “is to help open the gates, and you,” he examined me closely, “well, you’re already walking through them, aren’t you.”

Following his example, I lifted the mug to drink. The sweet taste of herbs and pears flowed past my lips, my tongue, was a soothing, syrupy river down my throat. A gong sounded deep and clear, ringing in a tone that seemed to echo across the Worlds.

Voices called from different corners, the Convocation, the formation of the Circle, the welcome of the Elements and their respective directions. The air shimmered as they were called and came, and the Circle grew almost visible, a gauzy light curtain I could see so long as I didn’t look at it directly.

From behind us came the answering call that rang with its own crystalline purity as the note hung, swelled. It filled the Circle as they came, the procession.

A woman led them, her carriage strong, proud, and graceful, her hair a glow of white as they entered the cleared center. They were six in all, dressed in white that flowed with the currents of air and fire, flowed with the grace of water, meeting the earth only to flow back up, the cycle over and over and over.

Elizabeth, it was Elizabeth, I realized even as I sipped again, and when she stopped, a new, smaller, Circle formed: one stood within and she without.

It wasn’t so much that I couldn’t hear the words spoken from the inside, nor the responses the crowd made, so much as I couldn’t translate them, but it didn’t matter; I
understood
them in a deep way. This was familiar, this was something I’d done a thousand times. This was the way
home
.

“What’s the test?” I asked Graham quietly as the excitement I’d felt before grew in the hearts that surrounded me and in my own, an impatient wilding surge of energy that powered my limbs, sharpened my senses, made my chest beat with the same pounding rhythm that echoed through the Circle.

Graham’s fingers tapped with nervous energy on my hand and when I glanced at him, his smile seemed to grow. I
knew
him, recognized his soul clearly, and put my arm around his shoulders in welcome. I kissed his cheek. He was my brother, my friend, my kith and kin, and his fingers drummed on mine in return.

“Who will be the Champion for the Goddess,” he whispered and held me closer. “Consort, defender, willing sacrifice—all of it. As above, so below.”

The shuffle and the mutter grew around us, an agitated jostle of bodies, the restive twitch and flex of muscle. We were waiting, waiting…oxen caged and penned, dogs given scent straining against the leash, a pack, an army about to charge, the arrow nocked against the bow, waiting on the word, waiting for—

“No worries, my brother,” Graham said into my ear and I couldn’t help but notice his lips were soft along its edge, “you’ll win, I know it.”

Brother. Yes, we were, had always been…

My blood sang, sang a fiery high praise through me as it rose with the stars, with the voices that called all around us, my body flowed with the rhythm of the tide, filled with the strength of the earth that pounded with the drums beneath my feet, the scent of smoke and herbs and cut grasses the counterpoint that swirled around my head and…

She
was out there, in the center of that smaller Circle, shining like ice, like fire, like crystal, the nimbus around Her the borealis, a flame into the sky.

The question blew out into the Circle, the clear call of challenge that I moved forward to answer, forging my way through the bodies that blocked me, the impeding arms and legs, Graham encouraging and solid at my back. No one else had the right, not the way I did, and I knew it as I pushed and wrestled through, using my shoulders to advance, to open my path. I could feel them around me, the ones who struggled through as well, saw them with my peripheral vision as the very physical challenge continued, the gauntlet we struggled through. There were five, then four, then two. This was my place and I knew it, knew that I was the one to do it—
no one
else had the right, or the claim, I had. Then my forward progress was arrested as someone solidly stopped me.

Completely halted, I looked at the large bare chest before me, the arms that bulged with muscle and strength ending in firm large fists that curled on hips perched over solidly planted legs. He. Was. Huge.

His head was shaved and the firelight glistened on the light sheen of sweat that covered his face, his shoulders, highlighting the muscles in his chest. “Let the Champion be tested,” called the Guardian of the Goddess. “By what right would you defend?” His lip curled at me with scorn.

His eyes caught the bonfire, blazing with contempt as everyone seemed to fall back and away, Graham too, after a reassuring press on my shoulder. They left us to stand alone, the Guardian between me and my goal. I could feel Her eyes on me from behind him as I squared my shoulders, felt the line of force flow through my spine as it straightened.

The energies became intersecting lines, the Elementals jumped and jigged about me as my bones, my blood, my soul remembered the answer, then spoke it for me.

“I claim by right of blood,” I said as he swung at me, his feet planted in the earth as I floated away like air. “I claim in the face of death.” He burned, moved with living flame, and I flowed around him like water. “I claim it for life.” The leg came up for the aerial move and I hit the ground, let it sweep, a sharp gust over me and I
saw
it as I straightened, the opening in the nexus of force and I reached out to tap his chest with my finger as my own fire burned within. “I claim it with love.” He overbalanced and fell hard, and the earth gnomes danced around him as the salamanders of fire lit my way.

She was the Goddess before me and I fell as the rain to my knees. “I claim it for you,” I whispered. Undines sang and the sylphs brushed my hair away from my face as She took my hand in Hers. She raised me to stand before Her as the world shifted and shook, the Light that surrounded Her almost blinding as the voices sang in my ears,
“Isis, Astarte, Diana—Hecate, Demeter, Kali—Inanna!”
loud enough to match the heart I suddenly felt beat within me, the painful lurch of life.

“And I lay claim to
you
,” the Goddess said, and She crowned me as Consort with Her kiss.

“The Challenge has been answered,” the voice of the man I’d just seen fall to earth cried. “The Goddess will be served!”

“Isis, Astarte, Diana—Hecate, Demeter, Kali—Inanna!”

Elizabeth stood before us when the kiss ended and I saw her as she held the chalice before me. I took it from her hands and pulled deeply, the words she spoke a buzz in my ears as the syrupy mix raced under my skin, her meaning clear as the inner Circle closed around us. Quick, careful hands stripped me, then covered us both with a soft blanket.

It was impossible to tell if we were guided or carried to the pavilion-tent-grove-room— whatever it was—because Her skin played against me, wrapped under that smooth cloth and around each other as we moved. Fingers fed me as hands stroked my hips, my ribs, the catch of my body on Hers. I don’t know what I ate, only that there was the taste of grapes and the soft lips perfect on mine. Somehow we lay together, and everything everywhere was the touch of silk, of satin, soft and cushioned against my back with my nerves alive and tingling.

“Isis, Astarte, Diana—Hecate, Demeter, Kali—Inanna!”

The chorus sang over and over, the call and cry of strength, of triumph, to the beat of blood and drums, a pulse of life and love and lust that the rhythmic pound focused in me, and even as I hardened and swelled, my vision splintered further, now the world, now the energies that intersected it, and She towered above me,
“Isis, Astarte, Diana—Hecate, Demeter, Kali—Inanna!”
the Great Huntress and Healer, the Mother and Reaver, the essential primitive perfect warrior, the consummate nurturer. Golden fingertips placed a ruby of fire between my lips that I sucked and swallowed.

The elements and energies swirled and coiled, focused, filling the air, thick enough to swim through.
“Isis, Astarte, Diana—Hecate, Demeter, Kali—Inanna!”
She smiled down at me even as She rose again to part Herself, Her body, to receive mine.

I was Her Champion, by right, by contest, by choice—I was Her
chosen
Consort.
“Isis, Astarte, Diana—Hecate, Demeter, Kali—Inanna!”
I gasped at the connect through it all, the snap of the intense physical that married us on every level as She claimed Her prize.

*

“I so rarely get to see you like this,” Fran’s voice tickled against my ear as her fingertip traced a light path along my face.

“Hmm? Like what?” I asked as I stretched, enjoying the strength I could feel in my own body, the warmth of the sun that shone in through the window on us, and the completing and satisfying pressure of Fran next to me.

We had two days, two whole days to do nothing but enjoy one another before we were back to our routines, the lectures and studies, the research, and of course, rehearsals for me, but for now…we had one another and the time to relax. I supposed everyone needed to recover from the Rite.

“Like this,” she said and slid over me. She caught my hands in hers then spread her palms against mine, and I looked up into eyes that still hadn’t lost the extra spark they’d carried since she was the Goddess before me. “Warm and relaxed.” She smiled, then kissed me softly. “Soft…open…peaceful.” She kissed me again between each word.

“Do you have anything in mind for today?” I asked quietly. “We haven’t gone to Ronnie Scott’s yet, and there’s…mph.” Her lips had found the sensitive spot of my throat and tugged gently.

“Nothing I can think of or want,” she said against my ear, “involves leaving this room.” Her entire body eased along mine and I returned the slide of her hands before I wrapped my arms around her.

“I
love
the way you think,” I told her as the warmth from the sun became the warmth from her skin and suffused me, made me liquid sunshine next to her.

“You just love me for my mind,” she murmured as I ran my hands down her back, gently kneading the muscles on the way until the beautiful curve of her backside was under my palms and I pulled her closer to me.

“I do,” I answered, then kissed her. “And I love your spirit.” I shifted my hips and held her closely so I could roll her beneath me. “I love your heart,” I told her and kissed her again. “I love your soul,” I murmured against her breast, her nipple hard between my teeth, the taste sweet under my tongue. “I love the body that holds them,” I said as I let my hands go where they wanted, “the way you look,” she parted her thighs for me, “the way you feel, taste…” And I gazed for a hot and hungry moment upon her cunt, the fine dark gold hairs, the proud jut of her clit that hardened for me and the sheen of her arousal as it pooled at her entrance, the entrance that had welcomed my tongue, my clit, my cock and my fingers.

I loved to look, but I couldn’t wait anymore. “This…” I whispered as I felt the shiver of anticipation that ran through her echo through me. “This is how I show you,” I said and I gratefully took her into my mouth, knowing I had the rest of this day and the next to show her just how much.

*

It was probably the shortest forty-eight hours I’d ever known, and when we did finally emerge from our cocoon to the world, it was to discover that everything and nothing had changed.

The rapport between us was so absolute that if she was hungry, I felt it; if I was sore from an evening session with my uncle, she would absentmindedly rub her own shoulder. When we wanted one another there was no way of knowing with whom the desire had originated.

And…I noticed that the flame that danced and beckoned in Fran’s eyes was the same added shine that both my guardian and my teacher bore; it was part of Graham too, if I took the time to think about it.

We hardly parted, choosing instead to maintain a physical connection in addition to the emotional and psychic, partially because being apart actually hurt, was a clearly discernable lack. And while we never spoke of it, we both knew our time was running down—so we were making the most of every moment.

What hadn’t changed was that I still couldn’t connect all the dots, and learning the myth that formed the background of the cult of Judas didn’t help.