Naamah's Blessing - Jacqueline Carey [249]
Long enough for fear, and the first inklings of despair.
I rubbed the faint scar on my right hand—not the scar of sisterhood on my palm that Cusi’s knife had inflicted, but the one on the web of my thumb I didn’t remember acquiring. Seven years ago, I had asked Old Nemed to demonstrate her gift, and she had taken that memory from me.
If we failed, she would take this memory away. All of it. The hollow hill and the glade, the world of beauty beyond the stone doorway. My diadh-anam would gutter and die within me, and I would no longer be myself.
And Bao would no longer be.
It came to seem that was what would come to pass.
In the blazing darkness, unshed tears glittered in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Moirin.” His voice was hoarse from long disuse. “I didn’t want to leave you.”
“Don’t say it!” My voice shook. I clambered to my feet, my legs unsteady. “Please!” I cried into the darkness. “Oh, please! I did all that I thought You wished! I know I made mistakes, but I tried, I tried so hard! We both did! Over and over again, we tried our best!” Sorrow stabbed me like a knife, but in its wake came anger. A futile mix of fury and despair seared my veins. “I beg You, do not do this to us!” I shouted in a ringing voice. “Does love mean nothing to You?”
Bao drew a short, shocked breath.
For a moment, it seemed as though the entire world stood still. No breeze stirred the pine-needles. The surface of the lake went as smooth as a mirror. Even the stars overhead seemed to pause in their ordered dance.
A low rumble shook the glade, making the ground tremble beneath us, a rumble rising to a growl, rising and rising to a deep, deafening roar that rattled my teeth and bones within me, a roar that rattled the very heavens. I clapped my hands over my mouth as if to take back my words, then clapped them over my ears to block out the deafening sound.
A massive shape rounded the lake and blotted out the stars, coming toward us, a mountain on the move. Beside me, Bao leapt to his feet, his staff in his hands. He shot me a single wild glance filled with rueful affection.
She came.
The Maghuin Dhonn Herself came, unhurried and roaring. More than a mortal bear, aye; but a bear, nonetheless. Her muzzle was parted, dagger-sharp white teeth glinting in the starlight.
Helpless and awed, I lowered my hands.
Bao lowered his staff.
Pace by terrible pace, She came toward us, brown fur silvered by moonlight, dwindling from a scale that was unthinkable to one that was merely terrifying. And stone and sea, She was so beautiful, I knew I would gladly die at a single swipe of Her immense paw. Still roaring, the Maghuin Dhonn Herself loomed over us, rising up on Her hind legs, the bulk of Her filling the sky.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “Forgive me.”
The roaring ceased.
My ears rang in the silence that followed. The Maghuin Dhonn Herself dropped to all fours with a thud that shook the earth. With a barking huff that sounded for all the world like amusement, She lowered Her majestic head toward us.
And I understood all at once that I was forgiven, that I had always been forgiven, that I was Her child, and loved.
“Ohhh…!” Bao whispered.
I felt Her breath warm on my face, saw Her dark, luminous eyes filled with wisdom and compassion, love and forgiveness, amusement and apology, and a thousand, thousand things. I saw in their depths Blessed Elua crowned with vines, and Blessed Elua with his hand extended, dripping blood onto the earth. I saw the bright lady Naamah lie down with kings and peasants alike, her face bright and holy. I saw the good steward Anael walking the fields, touching the crops and singing. One by one, I saw all of the Companions.
I saw Yeshua ben Yosef stooping to write a word in the dust, and that word was love. I saw Yeshua suffering and dying on the cross, and his eyes were the eyes of the Maghuin Dhonn Herself.
I saw Sakyamuni meditating beneath a tree, lifting his head, enlightenment illuminating his face.
I saw the dragon rising from White Jade