"At the full moon before Samaine, then, you shall speak your vows in the presence of the priestesses. Lhiannon and your grandfather will be greatly pleased.”
Eilan stared at her. She was certainly not doing this for their sake! Caillean had asked her to choose, but had her decision in fact been molded by her family’s expectations and perhaps other forces dimly hovering in the shadows beyond perception?
"Caillean—” she whispered, reaching out to the priestess. "If I vow myself to the Goddess, it will not be because I am the daughter and granddaughter of Druids, or even because I will never see Gaius again. There has to be something more.”
Caillean looked at her. "When we first met it seemed to me you had a destiny among us,” she said slowly. "I feel it even more strongly now. But I cannot guarantee that you will be happy, child.”
"I do not expect to be—” Eilan caught her breath on a sob. "So long as there is some reason, some purpose, in it all!”
Caillean sighed and held out her arms, and Eilan leaned against her, feeling the tightness in her throat ease as the other woman stroked her hair.
"There is always a reason, my dear, though it may be long before we understand it—that is all the comfort I can offer you. If the Goddess does not know what She is doing, what meaning is there in the world?”
"It is enough,” whispered Eilan, hearing the other woman’s heart beating, steady and slow, beneath her ear. "If I also have your love.”
"You do…” Caillean’s voice was almost too low to be heard. "I love you as Lhiannon has loved me…”
The full moon looked down from the heavens like a watchful eye, as if Arianrhod had personally decided to observe the ceremonies. As the chanting of the priestesses who had brought her here faded to silence, an inner chill pebbled Eilan’s arms, though the night was warm. Had she been hoping for rain? It would have made no difference; if the Druids had allowed the weather to affect their rituals they would not have had much of a religion. She knew she should be glad that the skies had chosen to bless her initiation, but the moonlight made her uneasy.
At least the brightness should make it easier to follow the path, and all the priestesses had asked was that she walk through the forest back to the temple, which did not seem a great ordeal. Eager for it to be done, Eilan hurried into the shadows beneath the trees, away from the moon’s implacable gaze.
She had been walking for scarcely the time it takes to spin a yard of thread when she realized that she was lost.
Controlling her breathing, Eilan turned. This, she supposed, must be the first test of her training, to see if she could use her inner senses to find her way. She drew on the steady power of the earth beneath her—that, at least, had not changed. The energies of moon and stars sang above, and as she opened herself to become the pillar that linked them, breathing out and in in regular rhythm until she knew herself to be at the center of the universe, the fear went away.
She opened her eyes once more. The panic was gone, but the moonlight that filtered through the leaves seemed to be coming from all quarters at once, and she had no idea in which direction the temple lay. Still, if she chose a direction and walked in it she should eventually get through the forest. Once, she had been told, all this island had been covered by trees, but now the land was dotted with roads and pastures and fields. Surely she could not walk for long without finding someone who could show her the way.
Humming softly, Eilan made her way forward, and only later realized that what she had been singing was the song the priestesses chanted at the rising of the moon.
As she walked, the dappled radiance of the moon transformed the world, and she understood why it had made her afraid. Each twig was outlined in silver; the leaves glittered, and light danced and flickered from every stone…but now Eilan realized that she was seeing something more than moonlight. Every living thing in the forest had its own glow—a radiance that increased until she could see almost as well as in the light of day. But it was not day, for this light was shadowless, a diffuse illumination in which the colors of the forest glowed like muted jewels. With a little shiver she understood that somehow she had passed the boundary that separates the fields of men from the Otherworld.