Perfect Trust: A Rowan Gant Investigation (27 page)

We were all standing in a loose circle on our
deck—Me, Felicity, Ben and his wife Allison, and a small group of
Pagan friends. We surrounded a portable, outdoor fireplace that had
been positioned on a wide bed of fireproof bricks and then stacked
with carefully arranged kindling that consisted not only of dried
sticks but of pinecones and a remnant of the previous year’s Yule
log as well.

Felicity and I were actually solitary
practitioners of The Craft and didn’t belong to a particular coven.
Truth was we rarely held ritual with anyone other than ourselves,
and maybe a cat or two present; however, this was a special
occasion. Of the eight generally accepted Pagan holidays scattered
about the wheel of the year, this was the final one before
beginning the cycle anew. Though labeled as a minor Sabbat, Yule
was without a doubt a holiday of immense importance and a
celebration that literally demanded the camaraderie of close
friends. Ben and Allison were the closest friends we had, and those
in attendance besides them fit the description perfectly as well
for they had become an integral part of our lives over the past
year or so.

R.J., Cally, Randy and his wife Nancy, and a
bubbly pair of identical twins named Jennifer and Shari—who had a
proclivity toward finishing one another’s sentences—were in some
ways our adopted children. And it wasn’t necessarily because they
were all several years younger than us. The primary factor was
really the horrific circumstances under which we’d met—a turn of
events that had moved us to, for all intents and purposes, take
them in like strays. They had been the core group of a fledgling
coven that had been formed and led by Ariel Tanner—an old friend
and former student of mine back when I’d endeavored to instruct
others in The Craft.

Ariel had met a gruesome end to her own young
life at the hand of a sadistic serial killer, and through my
connection with her I’d become deeply embroiled in the
investigation. In the process, Felicity and I had befriended the
leaderless young neophytes, and soon we had taken them under wing
in order to provide some of the guidance that can come only from
age and experience. It had been rewarding, though trying at times.
Still, a strong bond was forged, and they would forever be a part
of our lives.

Eight of us formed the relaxed ellipse with
Ben and Allison standing quietly outside the group. Everyone had
been in agreement, and we had made it clear to the couple that they
were perfectly welcome to join us in the circle but that they
should feel no obligation to do so. While Ben was far less a
skeptic than he’d been in the past, it was obvious that he felt
somewhat uncomfortable with the idea of being a part of the ritual.
However, the two of them were curious, and since everyone else was
fine with having an audience, they were content to watch from the
sidelines as we proceeded through the simple rite.

“I don’t suppose I need to ask if everyone is
grounded, now do I?” Felicity asked on the heels of her own musical
laugh. “This is feeling way too good.”

Quiet chuckles and stifled laughs elicited
from the small group. Being an eclectic, non-traditional group, we
tended to practice in an informal, freeform fashion, and at times
the steps of a given ritual would take on a mind of their own. She
had drawn her proffered conclusion from the fact that energy had
already begun to pass about the circle in a smooth, unrestricted
flow, several steps ahead of being called for.

Even with my current state of being, I’d
actually managed to achieve a solid ground in short order. It had
taken serious concentration to do so; something I was still getting
used to, but I’d done it. I’m sure that I had a bit of help from a
particular redhead since she was latched tight to my hand, but none
of that mattered to me right now. What was important was that I was
fully grounded, and the combined energies of the group circling
through felt absolutely wonderful.

“Well,” my wife spoke again, “since this
production doesn’t seem to need a director, which one of you would
like to call the quarters this time?”

“We will,” Jennifer and Shari both chimed in
at once.

With no argument whatsoever, the two of them
smoothly broke the ranks of the circle, opening ethereal doorways
by which to properly exit as the rest of us shuffled around to
close the voids. Moving in opposite directions, they orbited us,
passing one another at the easternmost point of our deck and then
continuing along the circuit until meeting once again in the east.
There, they stopped, face-to-face, and joined hands in a miniature
circle of their own.

“On this night…” Jennifer began.

“…
of darkness long,” Shari
continued.

“We join together…” Jennifer said.

“…
our circle strong,” Shari
completed.

“We raise our voice, above the rest…”

“…
and make to you, this gentle
request.”

A short measure of silence fell in behind the
quick chant, and we all waited.

“Watchtower of the east…” Jennifer finally
said as they continued to trade off the lines.

“…
Element of air…” Shari added
seamlessly.

“…
Guardian of the wind…”

“…
Breath of life.”

“We invite you,” they spoke simultaneously
this time, blending in a double-voiced harmony. “Join us this night
and watch over us in our circle. Blessed be!”

“So mote it be!” the rest of us sang out in
unison at the queue.

After a double beat of quiet, the two girls
released hands and turned their backs to one another. Jennifer went
into motion first, Shari remaining steadfast in place until her
sister was on the opposite side of the circle, whereupon she set
out in the opposite direction. They pranced, almost fairylike, as
they made the circuit. It was obvious that they were enjoying the
task at hand and loved being in the spotlight. This time around
they passed one another at the southernmost point of the group,
again continuing about us until meeting once again in the
south.

Repeating their earlier posture, they clasped
hands.

R.J. canted toward me and I leaned in to hear
him whisper, “They’ve been planning this for three weeks,
ya’know.”

I grinned at him as he stood there shaking
his head.

“Guardians present…” Shari’s voice met our
ears.

“…
We count now one,” Jennifer
followed.

“Demands of you…” Shari again.

“…
We shall make none,” Jennifer
said.

“Now our quest, is but to ask…”

“…
If in fire’s glow, we may
bask.”

Again, a momentary lull followed their chant
as we all anticipated what would come next.

“Watchtower of the south…” Shari said.

“…
Element of fire…” Jennifer
followed.

“…
Guardian of flame…”

“…
Bringer of warmth.”

“…
We invite you to…”

The twin’s conjoined voices were
unceremoniously interrupted by an evenly spaced staccato of
piercing electronic beeps. An extremely brief interval of silence
ensued, only to be followed by a second set of the annoying tones
that increased in volume by at least half. A third set barely got
off the ground as an abbreviated chirp. What quickly followed was
my friend’s embarrassed sounding voice.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Thought I’d set it ta’
vibrate,” Ben apologized meekly as he scanned the face of his
pager.

“Is it the sitter?” Allison asked, leaning
closer to her husband to have a look at the device.

“No,” Ben answered then shot his glance my
way. “But I’d better answer this. Row, ya’ think maybe I can use
your phone?”

“Help yourself.” I nodded. “You know where it
is. Feel free to use the one in the bedroom if you want.”

“Ummm, I hope this doesn’t offend anyone, but
I’m kinda unfamiliar with this whole deal. Do I need to bow or
genuflect or somethin’ before I leave?”

The innocent seriousness of his question
brought a round of chuckles to the group.

“No, nothing like that,” I explained
with a smile. “We aren’t actually casting circle here at the
moment, and besides, even if we were, you aren’t actually
in
circle with us. You can come and
go as you please. Just come on back out after you’re finished, it
won’t bother us, as long as you’re quiet about it.”

“Thanks,” he told me as he started toward the
door of the atrium. “Sorry I interrupted the deal here
everyone…”

“Crap occurs.” Randy offered his family
friendly version of the popular phrase with a grin.

“I think we’ll survive,” Felicity said. “It’s
not the first time.”

“But Detective Storm,” the twins called after
him simultaneously.

“Yeah?” he turned back, his hand already on
the doorknob.

“Just don’t let…” Jennifer said with a
giggle.

“…
it happen again,” Shari finished,
tittering as well.

“Jeez,” I heard Ben laugh as he went through
the door, shaking his head, “you two are a piece of work.”

My shoulder was seriously starting to ache
from the cold, and as my friend shut the door behind him, I felt
the hair rise on the back of my neck and a dull throb begin at the
base of my skull. The pain was apparently starting to expand, and I
rolled my arm a bit to get comfortable.

“You okay, Rowan?” R.J. whispered to me.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I nodded as I answered.
“Shoulder.”

He shot me a grimace and nodded his
understanding of my one word explanation.

“All right, everyone,” Felicity announced.
“Are we ready to move on?”

I thought for a second about excusing myself
but elected not to say anything. I decided to give it a few more
minutes and see how things progressed. Worse case scenario, after
the next tower was hailed I could go inside and down a handful of
aspirin.

Everyone settled back in, and the twins
completed their abruptly truncated hail of the Southern watchtower
before once again engaging in their opposing orbits around the
circle.

“Watchtowers doubled…” said Jennifer as they
joined at our west.

“…
now stand in a pair,” chimed
Shari.

“Guardian of fire…”

“…
and guardian of air,”

“We beckon you now, come join the rest…”

“…
with ebb and with flow, as you do the
best.”

“Watchtower of the west,” Jennifer’s voice
stepped in behind the lull.

“Element of water…” Shari continued.

“Guardian of ocean, sea, lake and
stream…”

“Giver of life.”

Their voices doubled together, “We invite
you. Please join us this night and watch over us in our circle.
Blessed be!”

“So mote it be!” we answered aloud.

Jennifer and Shari executed their dance for a
fourth and final time, coming to rest in the north, and very close
to their original positions in our circle.

“Thrice we’ve bid…” Shari began.

“…
to watchtowers tall…” Jennifer
completed.

“…
And each have answered…”

“…
our humble call.”

“Now at last, we come to four…”

“…
The final tower, there are no
more.”

“Watchtower of the north…”

“Element of earth…”

“Guardian of the land…”

“Mother of all…”

And together they harmonized a last time, “We
invite you. Please join us this night and watch over us in our
circle. Blessed be!”

And as one, we all answered, “So mote it
be!”

The girls rejoined our ranks as we spread out
to accommodate them, and they stood almost dancing in place,
excited grins plastered across their faces. As they clasped hands
with the circle, we could all instantly feel the intense level of
energy they’d raised between themselves and were now sharing with
us. It was no wonder they couldn’t seem to stand still.

A warm feeling coursed through my body, and
though my shoulder was still bludgeoning me with discomfort, I
decided I could bear it awhile longer provided it didn’t get any
worse.

“The wheel forever turns, spinning in harmony
with nature; with the Lord and Lady; with the elements and all that
is,” Felicity said, picking up where Jennifer and Shari had ended.
“It spirals through the seasons, bringing with it the balance of
the cyclic birth, death, and rebirth of all.

“Winter solstice is both an end and a
beginning. This longest night brings to a close our solar year, and
with the dawn brings to us the hope and mystery of the next. It is
a time when that which is spent is laid to rest, and that which is
new and untouched bursts forth with wonder and promise.

“This is a time for new beginnings. This is a
time we call Yule. It is a celebration of the cycle and the rebirth
of the Sun God. In honor of this time, we celebrate with a pyre in
its name.”

The last sentence was my queue; I released
hands and stepped forward into the center of the circle. Digging in
my pocket, after a moment I withdrew a wooden match. Kneeling down,
I struck it against the deck and shielded the flame from the wind
with my cupped hand. I reached into the open fire pit and touched
the small fire to a few strategic points. The dry kindling caught
quickly, then I stood and stepped back into place with the rest of
the circle.

The wood and pinecones crackled as the fire
began to spread and consume them as fuel—an act of birth and death
in and of itself. Flickering light cast outward to illuminate us in
a yellow-orange glow.

Nancy knelt down, and when she stood up again
she stepped forward holding a medium-sized oak log, decorated with
pine boughs. She carefully lowered it into the rapidly growing
conflagration and allowed it to fall the last few inches, jumping
back as a shower of embers plumed upward.