Naamah's Kiss - Jacqueline Carey [37]
"But not today," I said.
He gave himself a shake, and a sideways glinting glance at me. "Not today, no."
We ate well that night. How they had known to expect us, I wasn't sure. I'd never known exactly how my mother kept contact with our people, and I didn't learn it that night, either. But there was a venison stew that had simmered all day, savory with leeks and herbs. "Eat," my mother said. "Tomorrow, you fast." And there was a jug of uisghe, and after it had gone around twice, it didn't matter to me how they had known. The warmth in my belly dispelled the memory of Cillian's cold lips.
When we had finished, Mabon played a haunting air on his pipe and we all listened in peaceful silence. Beyond the mouth of the cavern, darkness settled over the glade as though summoned by the sound of his playing. It came to me that this very scene might have taken place a thousand years ago—or five thousand years ago, before mankind thought to record its history.
I was part of a very, very ancient tradition.
The thought made me shiver—both for the wonder of it, and for fear of losing it. I gazed around at the firelit faces of my people and felt a sudden pang of kinship. The spark of the diadh-anam inside me blazed wildly.
"That's the spirit." Old Nemed patted my hand again and gave me a dubious look. "Mayhap She'll have you after all."
It wasn't terribly encouraging.
* * *
CHAPTER TWELVE
The rite itself was simple.
On the morrow, I fasted. Old Nemed gave me my instructions. When the sun began to set, my eyes would be anointed and she would give me a bowl of mushroom tea to drink. Once I had drunk it, I was to descend alone into the glade and pass through the stone door without looking right or left. Then I was to wait beside the lake until either the Maghuin Dhonn showed Herself to me, or I fell asleep.
Nemed gave me a sharp pinch. "So best you stay awake."
"Ow!" I rubbed my arm. "Is it a test, then? She'll come if I stay awake long enough?"
"She'll show Herself or not as She chooses," she said. "There's no sure way to make it happen." She gave my arm another vicious pinch. "But there is a sure way to fail."
I winced. "Your point is well taken, my lady."
Nemed snorted. "My lady!"
"Nemed…" I hesitated. "If I do fail… I understand, a little, what will befall me. My gifts will fade, and I'll no longer feel welcome among us. What of this place?" I gestured around. "Will it be forbidden to me?"
"Ah, child," she murmured. "No. You will forget it."
I swallowed. "How so?"
The deep wrinkles around her eyes tightened. "I will pluck the memory from you myself," she said gently. "Such is my gift."
I shivered. "Show me." Nemed gave me a startled look. "I want to see. I want to know how it's done."
She chewed on her lips. "That's not wise."
"I want to know," I said stubbornly. "I want to know what I face, every last bit of it."
Nemed sighed. "Child…"
"Show her," my mother said softly. The old woman grumbled. My mother came over to my side and took my right hand in hers. "Here's a good one to choose." She turned my palm upward and stroked a tiny scar in the webbing of my thumb. "Remember how you got this?"
I nodded. "The deadfall." When I was six or seven, I'd tripped and fallen onto the stump of an alder tree that had toppled over. I'd put out my hand to catch myself and driven a splinter through it.
My mother kissed the faint mark and closed my hand over it. "That's not one you'll miss."
After more grumbling, Nemed acquiesced. "You'll have to hold the memory in your thoughts," she said. "It only works if you consent."
"What if I don't?" I asked. "I mean… afterward?"
"If you fail?" she asked. I nodded. The gentleness returned to her tone. "If you fail, you'll give your consent willingly. Believe me, child. You'll want the memory of this place gone. They all do."
Her words chilled me more than anything else she'd said thus far. "Just show me."
"So be it." Nemed took my face in her gnarled hands and leaned in so close our noses almost touched. "Hold the memory and offer it freely."
I held