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mama_kestrelWoo-hoo! Yet another story. Don't ask me where they're coming from; I've no clue. They're certainly nothing like anything I've written before. I'm also not looking gift equines in the mouth.
PAY ATTENTION: Some discussion of multiple miscarriage/ infertility. Happy ending, though.
********************
"In this time outside Time, in this place...."
"Prrrt?"
The priestess glanced down and stumbled over her invocation. "Sophronia? What are you doing here? I left you with Andrea in San Francisco!"
"Prouw!" responded Sophronia proudly, winding about Lady Lunara's ankles with her tail and ears held at full vertical, announcing to all and sundry what a wonderful cat she was. I had to agree with her, at that. It was no small feat to track her human from San Francisco to a state park outside of Louisville, Kentucky.
"Pretty clear what she's doing here" drawled Henry. "Looking for her familiar. Better question would be how she got here. You've been here a couple days already, so it's a pretty good bet she didn't stow away in your suitcase like Mira's cat did that time." A few years before Mira's cat had thrown most of her clothes out of her backpack, then burrowed under what was left and gone to sleep, only to be discovered when the plane was halfway across the continent. Those of us who knew the story smiled in memory.
Lunara had lost her train of thought completely, but Sophronia apparently knew exactly what was supposed to be going on. She paced purposefully over to the altar and batted at the next sacred tool Lunara should be using to finish casting the Circle. A few of us raised our eyebrows at that demonstration of intelligence. We'd joked for years about who was the witch and who the familiar, but I was starting to wonder if there hadn't been truth to it all along. But if Sophronia were the one wielding the magic, she still needed Lunara's voice and opposable thumbs.
As Lunara got the full moon ritual back on track, it occurred to me that Sophronia had appeared at just the moment that the priestess had created the "place that is not a place" - a space that's supposed to be congruent with, but not truly part of, the normal physical world. The idea is to contain the energies we would raise and direct. But what if such places, not part of the physical world where they were, were none the less part of each other? Poor, heavy-bodied, half-blind humans might not perceive it, but cats? Anyone who watched a cat for any length of time could tell they saw other planes of existence. It only made sense that a cat gifted with magic would be able to perceive such a Place come into being if she were in one already, and simply step across.
I glanced over at Sophronia. She was busy, pacing out the ritual with Lady Lunara. She paced by the human's right ankle, waving her tail whenever a gesture with athame or wand was indicated. If a toddler had been imitating an adult that way we'd have been suppressing laughter, but no one seemed inclined even to smile. It was simply right that it be done this way. It was as if Lady Lunara had only been practicing when she had performed the ritual alone, but now, with Sophronia, it had weight and meaning.
Henry caught my eye, looked at Sophronia, then at Lunara, and raised his eyebrows in question. I shook my head and shrugged; I'd no answers for him. He shrugged back, then whispered to Gwen.
Blessings, kisses, a pause for discussion of whether we should raise energy this time, and if so whether we should try to direct it to a purpose or simply set it loose as a gift to the Goddess to use as she saw fit. We were sitting around cross-legged for that, when Sophronia came around the circle, properly sunward, settled in Maida's lap and patted insistently at her belly.
Maida went white. "I haven't told anyone" she whispered to the cat. We've had so much trouble, I didn't want to say anything until we were sure it would work out this time. I can't stand all the hopefulness, and then all the explanations, and the pity...." She started to cry, picking up Sophronia and burying her face in sand-colored fur.
But Maida was my best friend, and I understood instantly. "Maida, love, do you want me to explain?" I asked gently. She nodded, face still hidden against the purring cat.
"Maida and her husband have been trying for a child, but she keeps miscarrying" I said softly. "It's been six years now, and she doesn't talk about it because she has family that can't keep their mouths shut. But we have given each other oaths of silence, among other things, and this needs to be included until she gives us leave." Nods went around the circle. "Maida is pregnant again; she's at 10 weeks, which is about when things get chancy for her. Now Sophronia apparently thinks that we should raise energy tonight, and that we should direct toward assuring that this pregnancy is healthy." At that the cat shifted just enough to raise her head, look at me, and put ears and whiskers emphatically forward in feline approval. "Given that she somehow got herself from the west coast to Kentucky at exactly the right time to do this, I am not inclined to argue with her. In fact, I'll go a step further and say I think we somehow got ourselves a visit from an avatar of the Goddess," - a skeptical snort from Henry - "though I'll never know how we merit such a blessing. But if that's what she wants us to do, I think we should do it."
Lunara agreed immediately, throwing her authority as Priestess behind the idea. There was a bit of babble, but no real argument about anything except how to organize ourselves. We finally sat Maida on the altar with Sophronia on her lap, and raised our cone of energy around them, dancing and chanting. When Sophronia's fur began to stand on end she stood up on Maida's thighs, rested forepaws on her shoulders, and began a yowl that rose in tune with our chant. It all came together at once, followed by a silence louder than a thunderclap. I couldn't have spoken if I'd tried; language itself had abandoned me, and I don't think anyone else was in any better case. Maida slumped where she sat; Sophronia licked the human's forehead a couple of times, then jumped down to the floor and gave herself a thorough bath.
We had our cookies and juice to ground ourselves, released the circle, and made our way to our bunks. I was very grateful it was a retreat at a campground, because there was no way any of us could have driven safely. Come morning there was a dusting of snow on the ground, and in the snow were the paw prints of a rather large cat. Sophronia was nowhere to be seen; when her human called home, Andrea said the cat was curled up in her usual spot under the piano.
We were all holding our breaths with her, but Maida's pregnancy proceeded apace until she reached the point where she had to tell her family because it was obvious to everyone. Exactly on schedule, she delivered healthy twins, a boy and a girl. Her husband chose Alain for their son, after a grandfather, but Maida named their daughter Sophronia, saying only that it was the name of a very wise, very powerful woman she had known.
The same retreat came around again when the babies were about four months old. This time when Lunara came in, she brought Sophronia with her intentionally rather than have the cat decide to walk the ways between the worlds. Once again, priestess and cat cast the circle together. Once again, there was discussion of what to do. This time, given that Maida had brought the little ones with her in case she needed to feed them, we agreed that we would simply draw down the Moon. No one felt a need to repeat the preceding year.
We began the ritual, but when the time came it was Sophronia who jumped up to sit on the polished disk that represented the moon on the altar. A chill ran down my spine when she posed herself as if she were a Sphinx, ready to be worshipped. So I wasn't terribly surprised when, as the invocation went on, she began to grow and shift into something more awesome and less of this mortal world. She wore a collar of lapis, and matching earrings, and her coat matched the sands of the Sahara.
Lunara's eyes were closed, her head tipped back. I touched her arm gently. "You've been answered, more than you ever dreamed" I whispered. Then I knelt. "Bastet?" She who had been Sophronia nodded, cat-smiling with her whiskers. I remembered that she was the patroness of pregnant women and children. "I – that is - I don't know what to say, besides thank you. Maida's so happy, and the babies are so beautiful." She purred, stepping down to rub her head against my cheek, then Lunara's, Maida's, and lastly, very gently indeed, each of the baby's in turn. She turned away toward the east, but with each step she grew fainter, until she simply walked into another world.
We closed the circle. What else was there to do? We had hosted a goddess! Lunara called home again, and sure enough, Sophronia had found her own way back. I had no doubt that cat would be treated like the deity she had hosted for the rest of her life. And I? Well, I live in the buckle of the Bible Belt, but I don't argue with my neighbors when they talk of the Age of Miracles. And I'm skipping the retreat this year. My nerves aren't ready for another divine encounter that's quite that personal.
PAY ATTENTION: Some discussion of multiple miscarriage/ infertility. Happy ending, though.
********************
"In this time outside Time, in this place...."
"Prrrt?"
The priestess glanced down and stumbled over her invocation. "Sophronia? What are you doing here? I left you with Andrea in San Francisco!"
"Prouw!" responded Sophronia proudly, winding about Lady Lunara's ankles with her tail and ears held at full vertical, announcing to all and sundry what a wonderful cat she was. I had to agree with her, at that. It was no small feat to track her human from San Francisco to a state park outside of Louisville, Kentucky.
"Pretty clear what she's doing here" drawled Henry. "Looking for her familiar. Better question would be how she got here. You've been here a couple days already, so it's a pretty good bet she didn't stow away in your suitcase like Mira's cat did that time." A few years before Mira's cat had thrown most of her clothes out of her backpack, then burrowed under what was left and gone to sleep, only to be discovered when the plane was halfway across the continent. Those of us who knew the story smiled in memory.
Lunara had lost her train of thought completely, but Sophronia apparently knew exactly what was supposed to be going on. She paced purposefully over to the altar and batted at the next sacred tool Lunara should be using to finish casting the Circle. A few of us raised our eyebrows at that demonstration of intelligence. We'd joked for years about who was the witch and who the familiar, but I was starting to wonder if there hadn't been truth to it all along. But if Sophronia were the one wielding the magic, she still needed Lunara's voice and opposable thumbs.
As Lunara got the full moon ritual back on track, it occurred to me that Sophronia had appeared at just the moment that the priestess had created the "place that is not a place" - a space that's supposed to be congruent with, but not truly part of, the normal physical world. The idea is to contain the energies we would raise and direct. But what if such places, not part of the physical world where they were, were none the less part of each other? Poor, heavy-bodied, half-blind humans might not perceive it, but cats? Anyone who watched a cat for any length of time could tell they saw other planes of existence. It only made sense that a cat gifted with magic would be able to perceive such a Place come into being if she were in one already, and simply step across.
I glanced over at Sophronia. She was busy, pacing out the ritual with Lady Lunara. She paced by the human's right ankle, waving her tail whenever a gesture with athame or wand was indicated. If a toddler had been imitating an adult that way we'd have been suppressing laughter, but no one seemed inclined even to smile. It was simply right that it be done this way. It was as if Lady Lunara had only been practicing when she had performed the ritual alone, but now, with Sophronia, it had weight and meaning.
Henry caught my eye, looked at Sophronia, then at Lunara, and raised his eyebrows in question. I shook my head and shrugged; I'd no answers for him. He shrugged back, then whispered to Gwen.
Blessings, kisses, a pause for discussion of whether we should raise energy this time, and if so whether we should try to direct it to a purpose or simply set it loose as a gift to the Goddess to use as she saw fit. We were sitting around cross-legged for that, when Sophronia came around the circle, properly sunward, settled in Maida's lap and patted insistently at her belly.
Maida went white. "I haven't told anyone" she whispered to the cat. We've had so much trouble, I didn't want to say anything until we were sure it would work out this time. I can't stand all the hopefulness, and then all the explanations, and the pity...." She started to cry, picking up Sophronia and burying her face in sand-colored fur.
But Maida was my best friend, and I understood instantly. "Maida, love, do you want me to explain?" I asked gently. She nodded, face still hidden against the purring cat.
"Maida and her husband have been trying for a child, but she keeps miscarrying" I said softly. "It's been six years now, and she doesn't talk about it because she has family that can't keep their mouths shut. But we have given each other oaths of silence, among other things, and this needs to be included until she gives us leave." Nods went around the circle. "Maida is pregnant again; she's at 10 weeks, which is about when things get chancy for her. Now Sophronia apparently thinks that we should raise energy tonight, and that we should direct toward assuring that this pregnancy is healthy." At that the cat shifted just enough to raise her head, look at me, and put ears and whiskers emphatically forward in feline approval. "Given that she somehow got herself from the west coast to Kentucky at exactly the right time to do this, I am not inclined to argue with her. In fact, I'll go a step further and say I think we somehow got ourselves a visit from an avatar of the Goddess," - a skeptical snort from Henry - "though I'll never know how we merit such a blessing. But if that's what she wants us to do, I think we should do it."
Lunara agreed immediately, throwing her authority as Priestess behind the idea. There was a bit of babble, but no real argument about anything except how to organize ourselves. We finally sat Maida on the altar with Sophronia on her lap, and raised our cone of energy around them, dancing and chanting. When Sophronia's fur began to stand on end she stood up on Maida's thighs, rested forepaws on her shoulders, and began a yowl that rose in tune with our chant. It all came together at once, followed by a silence louder than a thunderclap. I couldn't have spoken if I'd tried; language itself had abandoned me, and I don't think anyone else was in any better case. Maida slumped where she sat; Sophronia licked the human's forehead a couple of times, then jumped down to the floor and gave herself a thorough bath.
We had our cookies and juice to ground ourselves, released the circle, and made our way to our bunks. I was very grateful it was a retreat at a campground, because there was no way any of us could have driven safely. Come morning there was a dusting of snow on the ground, and in the snow were the paw prints of a rather large cat. Sophronia was nowhere to be seen; when her human called home, Andrea said the cat was curled up in her usual spot under the piano.
We were all holding our breaths with her, but Maida's pregnancy proceeded apace until she reached the point where she had to tell her family because it was obvious to everyone. Exactly on schedule, she delivered healthy twins, a boy and a girl. Her husband chose Alain for their son, after a grandfather, but Maida named their daughter Sophronia, saying only that it was the name of a very wise, very powerful woman she had known.
The same retreat came around again when the babies were about four months old. This time when Lunara came in, she brought Sophronia with her intentionally rather than have the cat decide to walk the ways between the worlds. Once again, priestess and cat cast the circle together. Once again, there was discussion of what to do. This time, given that Maida had brought the little ones with her in case she needed to feed them, we agreed that we would simply draw down the Moon. No one felt a need to repeat the preceding year.
We began the ritual, but when the time came it was Sophronia who jumped up to sit on the polished disk that represented the moon on the altar. A chill ran down my spine when she posed herself as if she were a Sphinx, ready to be worshipped. So I wasn't terribly surprised when, as the invocation went on, she began to grow and shift into something more awesome and less of this mortal world. She wore a collar of lapis, and matching earrings, and her coat matched the sands of the Sahara.
Lunara's eyes were closed, her head tipped back. I touched her arm gently. "You've been answered, more than you ever dreamed" I whispered. Then I knelt. "Bastet?" She who had been Sophronia nodded, cat-smiling with her whiskers. I remembered that she was the patroness of pregnant women and children. "I – that is - I don't know what to say, besides thank you. Maida's so happy, and the babies are so beautiful." She purred, stepping down to rub her head against my cheek, then Lunara's, Maida's, and lastly, very gently indeed, each of the baby's in turn. She turned away toward the east, but with each step she grew fainter, until she simply walked into another world.
We closed the circle. What else was there to do? We had hosted a goddess! Lunara called home again, and sure enough, Sophronia had found her own way back. I had no doubt that cat would be treated like the deity she had hosted for the rest of her life. And I? Well, I live in the buckle of the Bible Belt, but I don't argue with my neighbors when they talk of the Age of Miracles. And I'm skipping the retreat this year. My nerves aren't ready for another divine encounter that's quite that personal.
