Page 56 of Tasteful Anarchy and Tangled Auras
“Sister?” she says.
My eyes flick to her light blue face. She must have called me several times. My mind has slipped to the two tethers around my heart, green and blue, following Bryn and Ossy’s general movements and emotions. I’ve already cursed to anyone who’ll listen that I hate not knowing their exact locations. Or their exact thoughts. Goddess, please, protect my mates. And Rory. They are the three most important people in my life.
I stand. Maise smiles, all sweet innocence and excitement, seeing the Fae gathered. “It’s time.”
We group by color, then head out of the hall to the field where the crowd is waiting. We exit slowly to the sound of drums coming from the Temple. I can hear the people cheer as the line of Priestesses reach them.
First come the celebrations, then, at sundown, the ritual. I just have to keep my shit together for a little longer. Four hours and we’ll be on the other side of this disaster.
Hopefully this is all for naught. Hopefully no EA dissenters intend on completing the original plans. But, deep down, I know that is the wish of a fool.
The festivities start with an offering to Aine: large beeswax candles are lit from the firepit, cider from our trees is poured out onto the soil, and cinnamon sticks and pinecones are tossed into the fire.
The crowd has grown from my last estimate, now maybe one hundred and fifty Fae.
Then spiked cider flows, bread is offered for sharing by any who have it, and the Priestesses mingle among the people. Until the closing ceremonies, we’re to mingle and hear the people’s concerns, prayers, and offerings, and to give out blessings. Except the Priestesses in red. Their job is to offer themselves to any who wish it, if the Priestess feels called to. All Priestesses have served in such a way.
I’m a cup of hard cider in, and about twelve blessings out, when Alys sidles up to me. She avoided the gathering in the hall, Goddess knows why or how.
“Priestess.”
“Niece.”
I’d eye roll myself into a new dimension if I could. Nothing can ever be easy with her. It’s always been like that. “I’m surprised to see you here. You never attend any high holy days except Imbolc.”
She looks smug. “Ah, well, I had a friend tell me I should be here today.”
I keep my face blank but my mind is reeling. Who? Who would tell her that? And why? I wait her out, though. She obviously is dying to gloat about something, and it’ll choke her if she doesn’t.
Sure enough, she leans in and continues. “Myfriendsaid that you’d get your just desserts today. I can’t miss that.” She grins like the Cheshire Cat.
Inwardly, I blanch, but I say calmly, “I certainly have no idea what you’re speaking of, Aunt. If you’ll excuse me, I saw a brownie trying to get my attention earlier.”
I turn and try to get lost in the crowd before I follow the thread to Bryn. He’s on the edge of the crowd, eyes scanning.My heart hitches at the sight of my mate. He turns towards me slowly, trying to avoid any attention.
“A chroí, what is wrong?” His voice is low and urgent at my anxiety that shimmers through our link.
“Alys says a friend sent her here to see my downfall,” I whisper.
He blinks. “What? That...makes no sense. A friend of hers in the EA?”
I am about to respond when I see a group approaching us. Bryn follows my eyes and says, “Those are the EA lower council members.”
Osmund
I’M WALKING ONE OFthe paths, looking for anything out of place and listening for anyone hiding in the woods. I’m on one of the trails that run nearest the encampment. Just as I am almost out of the woods, something just off the path catches my eye. No leaves rumpled or sticks broken. It’s nothing. It should be nothing. But that stone.... That stone looks wet. Dirty. Like, until recently, the side I’m looking at was in the damp soil instead. I gently roll it out of the way. Indeed, something is there. A package of clay, maybe. It’s light brown. There's a tiny black box attached to it, and its smell reminds me of human gas stations. Greasy, almost. I have no idea what’s going on here, but I’m assuming whatever it is, is going to be bad. I tuck it back, because I can’t really walk through a crowd carrying it, and head for Bryn.
When I get to him, he’s with our mate, talking to four Fae. The lower council, I assume. I join them but stand silently, waiting. Yet I can’t help but I glower in impatience and put my hand on Adi’s back.
“So you see,” the coblyn is saying, “we are in agreement.”
Adi hesitates before saying, “That’s wonderful, of course.”
My eyes wander, and I catch sight of blue hair. Rory. I see him hesitate, seeing us with this group. I shake my head a tiny bit, then squeeze Adi and slip off to get to Rory.
When I do, I pull him aside. “What did you find out?”
He’s panting as if he’s been running. “Alys showed up for the rite because someone told her she’d see Adi fall today.”
