Page 9 of Secrets of the Lore Keepers
Prevent the goddess from coming forth
Sworn to protect the land from harm
Lest the goddess awakes the calm
Bind thine self to the land of the north
Bind thine self lest she comes forth
With words and deeds sage and salt
Keep her sealed in ancient vault
A warning to those whose hearts are weak
Who don’t believe the strength of the demonic
Forsake your sacred duty for the mundane
Watch chaos rise again.
The house was quiet,too quiet. The flickering fire popped and crackled, the smell of sausage hung in the air, and even though there was no smoke, my eyes watered. I folded the piece of parchment and handed it to my sister, tears almost blurring my vision. “What is that? What does it mean?” I begged.
“Don’t you understand?” She stared at me. “Everything I’ve read, the stories I’ve heard, what Mother and Father told us is true. We don’t feel called to this land because it is our home. We are bound here. Our blood binds us here. We are meant to keep the old goddess from rising.”
I shook my head. “No. No, no, no, that can’t be. It’s just an old rhyme from long ago, someone wrote it and put it in the book. That’s all.” I tried to think back, to make the connections my sister was making, but I’d never been one to sit and dwell in books. My fingers were antsy, I was almost moving, running, rolling from one activity to the next.
“We are wasting time talking about this,” Maraini said, tucking the paper back into the book. “Rae, you’ll just have to trust me. I’ve studied, I know this is true. I feel it, don’t you feel it? We are rooted to this place, but I think something happened to our parents when they left, something to prevent them from coming back. And if we leave, there will be no one to stop her from returning.”
I shook my head. Impossible! Yes, there were stories and I’d heard of magic, but not like this. It was incredulous to believe an old goddess was buried under our land, or the power of my family line was the only thing keeping her from rising. “This is stupid,” I said, backing away. “Maraini, I’d have thought better of you.”
“Don’t.” She held up a hand, a frown covering her face. “Just because you don’t believe something doesn’t mean it’s not true. Later, after we refresh the wards of protection over our land, I’ll show you the research I’ve done to come to this conclusion. But, Rae, it makes sense. I’ve never been gone from home for more than a day, sunup to sundown. We’ve never spent the night elsewhere, and I can’t remember one time as a child when we went off together, as a family for longer than market day. Can you? Can you think of a time when we left this land on its own? Other farmers do it, I’ve heard gossip in the marketplace, but not us.”
I chewed my bottom lip, determined not to give in to her persuasion, even though what she said was true. I tried to think back, but I couldn’t recall. Our land was also uncannily abundant. Those who visited came for remedies or advice, but never to stay. My mind danced with theories and I sat down heavily, staring into the fire, searching for answers in the flickering flames. “If what you say is true, we need proof,” I all but whispered, my voice hollow.
“Listen,” Maraini said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have sprung this on you this way. I’ll take dinner to Kian, but you should apologize to him, and take him some clothes to wear. I’m sure he’d like to wash up.”
I nodded woodenly.
Maraini touched my shoulder. “Eat, you’ll need your strength for tonight.”
Then she took the plate of food and walked out the door.
Thoughts curled through my mind like smoke through a chimney, impossible to keep and impossible to pin down with truth. All my life, I’d known I was different, but I never expect something odd and evil under my feet. Part of me wanted to know more, but the reasonable part of me shut down, unable to process such an idea.
When Maraini returned, we gathered our bowls and set to the arduous task of warding our land. I moved woodenly around the property, mindlessly scattering sage and salt and chanting with Maraini under the light of the full moon. It was a beautiful night, warm and quiet, with the sound of crickets providing the music of the night. I heard the hoot of owls and saw their winged shadows cross over the meadow, pouncing on the small critters who wrongfully assumed they were safe in the long grass. I walked barefoot; the dirt warm beneath my feet yet still moist from rain.
Maraini was quiet, focused on the tasked at hand. At one point I stepped over the line of our property, that invisible line. I realized that there were no markers, but I had an innate sense; I knew where the land began, and where it ended. Stepping over the line felt like freedom, but the sensation was there, a sensation I’d never given much thought to. Within my very bones was a stirring, a longing for home. It had always been there, especially on market days. I enjoyed the colors, sights, and sounds of the village, bartering and selling our wares, and counting our coins until it was time to return home. I’d always attributed the longing to the relief of coming home again, but what if it were an itch to get back where I belonged, before it was too late?
It was midnight by the time we finished, exhausted yet relieved we’d completed our task. My mind strayed rituals we conducted around the festivals that took place throughout the year, and my mother’s quiet words.May she sleep in peace for another year.
I always thought she spoke of something else, an object, but not a sleeping goddess. Who was this goddess? Was she buried under our land?
When Maraini and I entered the house, we put our baskets down and I wrapped my arms around her. We held each other for a moment and then I let go. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you earlier.”
“Don’t apologize.” She shook her head. “It was a shock.”
“I want to find out more, I want to know if it’s true.”
