Song of the Ancients (Ancient Magic Book 1) (2 page)

On the way out, we spied Nicholas sitting by himself, working his way through a pot of tea and the real estate section of the
Arizona Daily Sun.
He glanced up as we approached. An abrupt little tingle climbed my spine when I met his dark gaze, just as I'd felt when I touched the cloak. He was smiling but his eyes were narrowed like a hunter hawk, focused on prey.

"Ms. Danroe," he said, standing to greet us. "How nice to see you again."

He seems so old-fashioned and formal, though he can't be more than mid-forties.
I shook his hand and noticed his palm was cool and dry.

"And this is my business manager, Rumor Vargas."

Nicholas shook her hand. "Rumor. What an unusual name."

"My parents named me after a Fleetwood Mac song."

"Did you know the name Rumor means Gypsy in some circles?" Nicholas asked. "I believe it is derived from the Eastern European 'roamer'."

She snapped her fingers. "Yes! It fits. I'm an Air Force brat. Our family moved every three years. I went to school in five different states."

Rumor did look like a gypsy, with her dark hair and eyes, hoop earrings, and embroidered peasant blouse over faded jeans. A pang of unexpected jealousy slashed through me at the easy rapport she had with Nicholas.

"Are you buying in Sedona?" I pointed to the open newspaper.

"Actually, my aunt owns a home in the area. I'm looking at comparable prices so I can sell." He retrieved a gray business card and pen from the coat draped across his chair, wrote an address and handed it to me. "Please let me know of anyone who might be interested."

"Did your aunt pass away recently?" I thought about the trunkful of clothes. "If so, I'm so sorry."

"Ah, no," Nicholas said. "She's on an extended holiday abroad. Doesn't know when she'll be back." He laid some bills on the table and stood up. "But thank you for your concern."

I felt his eyes on my back when we left his table and stepped into the parking lot. As soon as we got to the car, Rumor bumped her shoulder into mine. "You didn't tell me he was
hot
."

"Stop right there. He's a customer."

"Tall and broad-shouldered. Eyes like fresh espresso. Shiny black hair." Rumor collapsed into the driver's seat. "I love men with long hair."

"Then you date him," I answered, exasperated.

She closed the door with a
thud
and looked up at me. "No, I
have
a boyfriend. Besides, he gave
you
his address and phone number." She shot me an appraising look. "You need to get out, Sam. What are you doing tonight?"

I shrugged, feeling defensive. Much as I hated to admit it, Rumor was right. I did need to get out and make some new friends. "No plans. Except for you and Kamaria, I don't know anyone."

"Would you consider trying something new?"

I gave her a puzzled look. "Why so cryptic? What kind of
new
are you considering?"

Rumor tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's a full moon tonight."

"Okay, so?"

"I've been celebrating the full moon lately. Will you go with me?" Her expression seemed so hopeful. Obviously she had something she wanted to share.

"Do I need to bring anything?"

Her face lit up. "Nope, just an open mind. And your cloak. It'll be perfect for tonight."

* * * * *

The sun was sinking behind the red rocks when Rumor pulled up. She had the top down on her lovingly restored, red 1970 Mercury Cougar and looked windblown. Good thing I'd left my hair in a ponytail.

We took the Upper Red Rock Loop road around Cathedral Rock into a lush valley surrounded by trees, turning onto a dirt road with a sign labeled Crescent Moon Park. I recognized the area. Oak Creek ran through the park. On a sunny day the stream pools reflected Cathedral Rock in the background, attracting flocks of photographers.

The park closed at sundown, so a bar blocked the entrance road. Rumor pulled to the far end past a short row of vehicles and stopped.

"This is one of the best spots in town to view the moon."

"What, exactly, are we doing tonight?" I asked. "Stargazing? Trespassing in a closed park? Isn't there an easier way?"

"We're not trespassing. The group has an arrangement with the caretaker. We're not stargazing. It's a full moon ritual with the Crescent Moon coven."

Full moon ritual? My heart gave an anxious little flutter.
Slow down,
I told it.
This is Sedona, New Age la-la land, the crystal capital of the Southwest. Are you really surprised?
"A coven," I said with more calm than I felt. "You belong to a coven? How could I know you for a month and not know such a detail?"

Rumor turned in her seat to face me. "Well, Sam, it doesn't come up in casual conversation. Plus I don't belong to the coven." She paused. "We probably should have talked ahead of time. If you'd rather, I can take you home. Or you could just watch, see what it's like without participating."

I scanned the parking lot, trying to make sense of what my rational, if sometimes offbeat, partner was suggesting. "Why would they call it the
Crescent
Moon coven if they have a
full
moon ritual?"

Rumor gave me her patient look reserved for unreasonable customers. "I should have warned you." I bit back a nasty retort, and she continued in a gentle voice. "I don't belong to the coven. They hold public rituals once a month and I come sometimes. It's…nice. Soothing."

"Do you like it enough to join?"

Her expression changed as she appeared to consider and dis-card replies. Finally she shrugged. "My family, my father especially, is so male-centric. Sometimes I feel I don't count. Wiccan beliefs are different. They're female and self-oriented. It's attractive to me. I can direct my own choices, create my own path, and not have it dictated to me."

Memories washed over me. My father and his unspoken laws for both mother and me. My six years of marriage, implicitly trusting a husband who broke my heart when he admitted to an affair he'd begun just months after our honeymoon. I didn't want to be that woman any longer. I was ready for some magic.

"Don't ask me to do anything embarrassing."

She held up three fingers. "Scout's honor." Rummaging in the backseat, she produced two taper candles stuck through paper cups. She handed one to me, and we walked around the barricade and into the park.

Wooded areas hemmed the clearing on three sides. The poplar and birch trees had not yet dropped their leaves, and their dark shadows rustled in the breeze. Lights dotted the clearing as people moved around in the open field. A round table, draped with a white cloth and topped with candles on each side of a vase of white night-blooming flowers, sat in the middle of a circle ringed by rocks. An incense burner wafted the scent of sandalwood and sage.

I drew a deep breath of the wonderful aromas, feeling the tense muscles in my shoulders unknot and release.

Rumor pointed out Maya, the High Priestess of the ceremony. Her long white cloak and silver pentacle necklace was a striking contrast to her dark hair and blue eyes. Where I felt out of place, Maya seemed in her element. Standing with her eyes closed and arms out, palms up, she had the calm grace of a mystic in her temple, oblivious to the people working around her. After a moment she opened her eyes, saw Rumor and waved us over.

"I'm so glad to see you back." Maya hugged Rumor and then me, whispering, "There's no need to be nervous. Relax and enjoy."

She joined a man standing in the circle. He pushed back the hood of his black cloak, revealing sculpted cheekbones and straw-colored hair braided past his shoulders.

"Nuin," Rumor said, "the coven High Priest. He and Maya will be leading the ceremony."

Nuin pulled a small knife from his belt and laid it on the altar. He held one hand over the blade and moved his lips silently.

I watched the Priest with interest.
The man has
p
ower. Loads
. I laughed quietly to myself.
Who
cares
about
magical?
He has a power handsome men seem to be born with—innate, testosterone-filled sexuality and a don't-you-dare-question-me self-confidence.

Pulling my gaze from Nuin, I leaned in to Rumor. "Will we have parts in the ritual?"

"Only conveners have speaking parts. For everything else they give us instructions. So what do you want to do?" She bobbed up and down on her tiptoes like a little kid asking permission to go someplace she knows is forbidden. "Watch—or go in?"

I linked my arm through hers. "What the hell. Lead away."

Rumor laughed. "Come on, let's go get smudged."

The low moon's glow backlit Cathedral Rock. We lined up outside the stone circle and two people walked down the line, fanning smoke onto us from a smoldering sage bundle. Then we entered the circle in silence.

Excitement raised my blood pressure, and I immediately felt warmer. Every sense became more acute, yet at the same time, stilled. I smelled the pungent juniper, heard the birch leaves rustle, picked out every detail of the dozen or so candlelit faces across the circle.

Maya lifted a wicked-sharp sword from the altar and hoisted it, pointing the tip of the blade beyond us. Eyes closed, she turned in a slow circle.

"I conjure thee, O circle of power!

To form a boundary between the world of men,

And the realms of the mighty spirits.

I create a space beyond space, a time beyond time,

A meeting place of perfect love and perfect trust,

To contain the power I raise herein."

Rumor had whispered instructions during the smudging to imagine a mist or light enveloping us as the Priestess cast the circle, but I forgot her suggestion until the air changed. It became thick and still, pressed against my back, filled my ears like cotton, muffled all sound outside the circle. The perimeter glowed with a barely perceptible shimmer of light.

I should have been afraid of the odd sensations. Instead, they filled me with unbearable lightness. Dizzy with happiness, I bit my lower lip to keep from laughing out loud.

Maya walked the circle, stopping to meet our eyes and speak to each of us. "This is the time of the full moon, a time of wishes coming to fruition in our lives. Life is a wheel, ever turning amidst the mysteries. The Goddess understands this."

Her words flowed over me and I realized she was giving a sermon.

"Close your eyes and send a secret desire to your Goddess," Nuin instructed in a deep, hypnotic voice. "Ask her to weave a spell of moonlight, to bring your wish into your life."

Magic! We were praying to the goddess of the moon and asking for magic. Could it possibly work? The idea appealed to me like no sermon ever had. I squeezed my eyes shut, blinking tears, and sent my thoughts up into the night.
My secret wish is to be cherished by someone as much as life itself.

The rest of the ritual flowed around me in a swirl of dream-like impressions. I remember facing the moon, high and bright above Cathedral Rock, my hand beckoning the light. To seal the spell, we wrote our requests on parchments and tossed them into the cauldron fire. We whirled and chanted, faster and faster, until at last we threw our hands to the sky, and released our wishes to the universe. I finished out of breath and dizzy, but happier than I'd felt all year.

When the ceremony ended I felt a twinge of sadness. I wanted to stand under the full moon and think about the amazing kinship I'd felt, the power, the tremendous energy in the circle.

That didn't happen. People laughed and chattered as they carried items from the altar to Maya's car, folded up the table and carted it to Nuin's pickup. It was past midnight but I didn't feel tired. Rumor and I helped Nuin scatter the stones ringing the circle.

"Leave no trace," he told us.

I watched the Priest as we worked and thought about the two men I had met in the last week. Nicholas was dark, Nuin fair. Nicholas was cool, alpine water. Nuin was smoking, smoldering fire. Both men gave the impression of strength, a presence almost overpowering. I realized much of the energy I had felt during tonight's ritual came from the interaction between priestess and priest. Yet he seemed quite approachable, flirting casually with all the women.

Afterward, Nuin invited everyone for coffee at an all-night diner. We piled into a big horseshoe-shaped booth. He allowed himself to be wedged between Rumor and a coven member I did not know, a thin girl with thick black eyeliner.

I felt conspicuous in the fluorescent glare, so I took off my cloak and stashed it in the corner of the booth. The waitress didn't give us a second look. She'd waited on stranger groups than a few witches in black cloaks and pentacles.

I slouched against the garish vinyl, listening to the laughter and missing the insider jokes. I wanted to ask about the ritual – but not in front of all these people. I snuck a glance at Rumor, talking with Nuin.
She has the keys and no intention of leaving early
. I sighed and slid further into my seat. For a moment I was back at my ex-husband's company Christmas party, stuck between strangers, abandoned for the pursuit of bigger game. Younger and sexier game.

Nuin winked at me and reminded the group it was getting late. Within moments, everyone dispersed, leaving Rumor and me sitting alone with him in the big booth. He slid closer, close enough his thigh pressed against mine under the Formica table top.

"How do you like Sedona, Samantha?" he asked while we lingered over a last cup of coffee. "Has your store been busy?"

"Slow, but picking up." I wondered how he knew I owned Past Lives. Had Rumor told him?

"We had a great walk-in customer yesterday." Rumor tapped my arm. "Sam, where's the card Nicholas gave you this morning at the café?"

I fished it out of my purse. "Nicholas Orenda, Family Prac-tice," I read. "Think he's a doctor?"

"May I see it?" Nuin asked.

He took the card and looked it over front and back. Then he held it between his flat palms for a long moment, his eyes closed. "When did you say you met this man?"

"This week," Rumor said. "He even gave her a cloak."

I glanced at her and gave my head the slightest shake
no
. Based on his reaction to the business card, I didn't want Nuin to touch the cloak. I wasn't sure I wanted to share my private life with either man yet. I certainly didn't want to gossip about one with the other.