Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 128893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
She went to the center of the circle, bringing a fat, white, four-wicked candle on a stand about three feet high. She placed it in the exact middle of the four girls, who had formed a neat square and then stepped out again.
“Beginning with the North, call your corners,” she directed them. “When the circle is complete, each one of you will step forward one at a time and light one wick of the candle. Go.”
Watching all this, I wondered what in the world was going on. Was this class just about learning pagan rituals? And if so, how could that help us get to the “core of magic” within us as Ms. Yasmeen had said? If I even had a core of magic, that was. I was probably a Null, like Avery’s mother.
And then the ritual began and I made myself stop and take notes on what was taking place. After all, there might be a quiz on this eventually and as a student, I was nothing if not conscientious and prepared.
“Hail to the guardians of the watchtowers of the East. Spirits of Air, powers of Thought,” the first girl said clearly. “I call upon you to lend your essence to this rite.”
“Hail to the guardians of the watchtowers of the South. Spirits of Fire, powers of Will. I call upon you to lend your essence to this rite,” the second girl said.
“Hail to the guardians of the watchtowers of the West. Spirits of Water, powers of Emotion…” the third girl went on as I scribbled as fast as I could in the brand new notebook which had been provided along with the nice black leather backpack which matched my uniform.
“Hail to the guardians of the watchtowers of the North,” the last girl intoned slowly. “Spirits of Earth, powers of Stability. I call upon you to lend your essence to this rite.” She stepped forward to the four-wicked pillar candle in the middle of the circle. “I conjure ye, O Circle of Light to be a temple between the worlds. In the name of the Silver Lady and the Golden Lord. Wherefore do I bless and consecrate thee, So Mote It Be.”
Then she leaned forward and blew gently on one of the wicks of the candle. It smoked for a moment and then lit, as though she’d used a match on it instead of just her breath.
I had to stifle a gasp. After seeing Avery’s elaborate display of magic at lunch, I shouldn’t have been so surprised, I guess. But there was something about the fire—about the elemental nature of the magic—that did something to a deep place inside me. A place I hadn’t even known was there before.
When I saw a flame spring to life, I felt the small hairs at the back of my neck stand up and a surge of something went through my entire body—I didn’t know what. I couldn’t name it. It felt like a voiceless yearning inside—a longing for something which ought to be mine but wasn’t.
I can’t describe it any better than that—all I knew was that it affected me more than anything else I’d witnessed or been through that whole long, strange day.
Except maybe the moment when I had touched Griffin and felt the key at my throat spring to life.
Speaking of the key, it was throbbing again—beating between my breasts like a second heartbeat. I put my hand to it to still it, almost caressing it like a small, frightened animal I had to soothe.
It’s all right…it’s going to be all right, I thought at it as, one by one, the other three girls stepped forward and lit their wicks in the same way. Finally the candle was burning brightly but still Ms. Yasmeen did not dismiss the four students who had called the circle.
“You must not leave a Circle whole when you are finished with your rite,” she lectured. “It is disrespectful to the Goddess, whose power you are calling upon.”
I raised my hand and she nodded at me.
“Yes, Miss Latimer?”
“I thought you said we were calling on the core of magic within ourselves?” I said, questioning. “Not a, um, Pagan deity.”
“And where do you think that core of magic comes from?” Ms. Yasmeen inquired, raising one orange eyebrow at me. “The Goddess lends her strength and magic to all the Others, though it is the Sisters who commune with her most directly.”
“I see,” I mumbled, and made a note of it in my notebook.
“If you’re worried this will be on the test, don’t be.” Ms. Yasmeen sounded amused. “There is very little written work in this class. You will earn your grade through demonstrations of proficiency. Now girls,” she went on, talking to the four students who had called the Circle in the first place. “Dismiss your circle and let us move on to the next four students.”