Music and laughter grew distant as we left the party and its pavilion behind, and followed Mother deeper into the savanna garden. The path meandered through rolling mounds covered in lush flowers and shrubs native to Sahajia, pale tufts of panpas grass and yemange ferns waving gently in the evening breeze. Mother's sheer black stole fluttered from her shoulders, bringing to the mind the insubstantial mists of a spirit adrift in the Otherworld.

Imogen walked at my side, her pace bold and head held high. She glanced at me sidelong, as if she brimmed with unspoken questions, but I had no answers to give. I was as puzzled and curious as she was. I'd played through these gardens often as a boy, yet I never knew Mother concealed a secret sanctuary here.

The worn stone-tiled path broadened into a circular terrace, where a monolithic bronze sundial occupied a fluted marble pilaster at the center. Near the edge of the circle was a small stone outbuilding. I'd always assumed it was a gardener's shed. A sturdy black door gilded in iron scrollwork secured it. Mother led us to the doorway, and removed a jingling ring of keys from her drawstring handbag. She unlocked the door, and it swung open. The dark passage within led down along an arched stairwell.

"Silas, will you fetch one of the garden torches for me?" Mother asked.

"Of course." I jogged to the nearest torch, removed it from the stand, and brought it to her.

Mother lifted the torch high, and grinned over her shoulder. "Come, dear seekers. We have much to discover." Her dark brown eyes contemplated Lady Selketh. "I hope at least some of it will be the truth."

The stairs descended along a spiral column. At the bottom, a solid granite entry greeted us, bordered in carvings of fearsome, snarling beasts. The four animal Guardians of The Order clawed and struggled along the sides, while a laughing human skull leered at us from the highest point of the portal. The chamber itself was dry and clean, a circular space with an altar set before the far wall. Mysterious smells flooded my senses--smoke, sweet perfume oils, and the faint scent of ageless demise. Around the stone floor, inlays of brass and silver displayed runes and sigils. My Sight flashed with my quickening heartbeat, the veil between the realms thinning. The power here was so strong, I could almost taste it in the air.

Mother lit the wall sconces mounted at each side of the room, and its true magnificence blazed into view. Though small, Mother's Circle vaulted in reverent curls toward the ceiling's pinnacle, majestic as any cathedral or monument. Bones and skeletons carved of stone cavorted among the columns and walls, with genuine bones, stones, feathers, and wooden talismans suspended in pleasing arrays alongside. 

Lady Selketh stopped, jaw dropping as she admired the shrine.

"Oh, Verthandis, this is so beautiful," Maeve said, gaping in awe. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Thank you. I've never invited anyone else here before." Mother smirked, her gaze meeting mine briefly. "You three are the first to behold it. I'm honored to share it with you."

"Truly," I said. "I never knew you harbored such a Circle here at Highveld, Mother. Or elsewhere, for that matter." I approached the altar for a closer look at the objects arranged upon it. A human skull with the cranium sliced off served as a hollowed bowl for sacred herbs. A spiky cluster of quartz crystal crowned the central pedestal, with semi-precious stones laid around it in a branching spiral pattern. An athame and chalice rested side by side, ready for any ritual.

Mother lit the charcoal in her brass skull brazier, and set a cone of fresh incense to smolder. Aromatic smoke plumed from the dark sockets, carrying all prayers to the unseen worlds. "It was my Olfar's teaching that every seeker should create their sacred Circle. A place where one's spirit can reach across the realms and communicate with the spirits in private. Unfortunately, this seems to have been a forsaken practice in the current interpretation of The Order." She studied Lady Selketh, gauging the response.

Lady Selketh's lips curled to a knowing smile. "A sad truth. I remember your grandfather's mention of these, though due to my unfortunate associations, I've never had the pleasure of seeing one, nor how they were to be constructed. Yours is a lovely example."

Mother breathed a sigh. "Unfortunate associations...how quaintly you put it. I assume you refer to Lady Blevasnya and her coterie of lackeys and upstarts, the ones who perverted the Old Ways into what they are now."

"Yes." Lady Selketh stiffened her shoulders. Awash in the russet glow of the flames, her face softened to a girlish vulnerability I'd never seen in her before. Her power ebbed like the tides of a sea marred by a storm--pensive, all-encompassing in its current. Her voice fell to a  husky smother. "I am not who I present myself as within Society. My background and identity were disguised when I was brought to the colonies as a child, to protect me and ease my transition into a new life. Only my family and a few close acquaintances know my true name."  

Crossing her arms, Mother paced slowly Lady Selketh. "The Rite of Talons will expose your deepest secrets. Is this really your wish?"

Lady Selketh gave a dignified nod. "It is, my Lady." She sank to her knees before the altar, her skirt draping in a smooth, dark pool around her.

 "Very well," Mother said. "Let us begin."

Silence fell thick as a shroud over the chamber. Imogen and I stood side by side, observing. Mother turned to the altar. She bent to retrieve an ornate wooden box stowed beneath it, and opened the lid.

"I hold many secrets myself," Mother said. "Something tells me our stories share a common thread, but we'll see where the Rite takes us."

She set the box upon the altar, and removed a peculiar object. A set of eight peculiar animal talons dangled from a thin beaded cord, gleaming sharp and black.

Lady Selketh took the item and clutched it in her slim, elegant hands. She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. "Such power. These are far more ancient than they appear."

Mother's smile was proud. "They're a part of the secret I'll show you--after we complete the ceremony, and if I find you trustworthy in the end." She turned to Imogen. "Maeve, will you do us the honor of summoning the Circle and the Guardians?"

"Of course...my Lady." Maeve fumbled the title, as if she was still uncertain of addressing Mother as such. Regardless, she assumed her position at the eastern point, the Pruessian rune for 'dawn' etched into the polished stone at her feet.

Mother offered me a hand drum, a piece of thin hide stretched over a frame of rib bones, lashed together with sinew. Feathered trinkets of bone, stone, and wood decorated the edges. "There's a special song and rhythm for this Rite," she said. "It's a two-time heart beat, and the words are: 'Without, within, lead us through memory, guide us to truth'. Please sing for us."

"Certainly, Mother."

She grinned and stroked my cheek. "Good. Now I'll prepare the reagents."

We waited while Mother sprinkled the contents of colorful vials into a stone mortar. She ground the herbs and powders together for several minutes, and added a splash of consecrated wine. When she was satisfied with the concoction, she poured it into the bone-studded silver chalice. She then presented it to Lady Selketh with both hands.

"There you are, Selketh. You know what to do." Mother bowed, and moved back to the altar.

I began the song, tapping the drum to the cadence of a beating heart. My voice rang clear and true across the Circle. Power rose and circulated, a pulse in pace with the rhythm of my blood, my breath. My Sight danced, yet didn't overwhelm my senses, enhancing my awareness across all the realms. 

Maeve brushed past me as she called to the south, to Fenvolvna. She raised her arms, soft chiffon sleeves billowing along her pale skin. "Mother wolf, brave Guardian, we summon you to watch and protect this Circle. Stand with your children this night."

The delicate scent of her perfume wafted around me, and a vision skirted the edges of my mind. Imogen and I stood beside the ocean of my dreams, waves rushing past our ankles. Her full lips parted, the gray rings of her irises aswirl like the storm clouds bustling over the horizon. She twined her arms around my neck, our sand-flecked bare skin sliding against each other. Her kiss stung my lips. She tasted of sea salt and sorrow. The tide pulled at me, as if urging me to flee, but I held her tight. Lightning sparked in the distance. Thunder answered, then faded to the rumbling growl of a wolf.

My Sight dissipated. I faltered a moment in my drumbeat, startled by the clarity of my vision. The importance of the ritual resumed its hold, and I continued my song despite the unsettling omen.

Once Maeve had completed the Circle, she stood close to my side. Lady Selketh raised her arms, holding the talons and the chalice aloft. Her voice carried an impassioned plea. "Adlorel, blessed Guardian of the sky, the winds, the stars, the between--you hold all truth and memory in your talons. I kneel before you in this Circle, my heart open, my spirit unhindered, and ask you to soar at my side. Bear witness to this sacrifice of my pride as I lay all that I am before you, before the ancestors. So may it be."

She tipped the chalice to her lips, sipping the potion, and set it on the ground before her. The cord of talons clattered in her shivering fingers. Within minutes, the effects took hold. Selketh swayed and chanted, both hands clasped over her chest. Her chant broke, and she threw back her head, a wavy, earth-brown lock tumbling free of her glistening fascinator pin. Her eyes snapped open, round and wild, darting around the chamber at things only she could see.

"The first talon pierces my mind, my spirit, and unlocks my earliest secret," she said. She extended one of the talons as if she clawed invisible flesh. Laughter bubbled from her throat, growing shrill, girlish. A child's nervous giggle. "Amya? Amya? Basha? Udje esth ti Zes?"

She babbled in this strange language for a while, then gasped, staring at an empty space over her shoulder. Her laughter fell to frightened breathing, fear white across her fine-boned features.

"They aren't coming back. I am Pilistya Francazti. I'm six years old, and I'm all alone. Why did they do this to me? The Pruessian troopers march in the streets, kick the door down, find me hiding under the bed. My Amya and Basha haven't moved in three days, our house destroyed in the bombing. No one comes to help me. Are you a man or a monster? No, go away, leave me alone! Rough hands, so strong, they drag me out. Outside, cold snow falls, the only pretty sight in this desolate place. I have only my stockings and nightgown. Line up with the other survivors in the street, so many troopers, guns pointed at us, all prisoners of Hir Kaezer. The walker robots are so big, watching me like they'll eat me alive. I try to run, but I slip on the ice and hit my head. Blood everywhere, smoke in the sky. Tegzstanzay is still burning. My beautiful home is dead, like my family. The gods have abandoned us all. Amya, Basha, I fell and hurt my head. My tears freeze on my cheeks."

Tegzstanzay was a city in Hepslovia, the first continent conquered by the Pruessian Empire. Pilistiya--the name of her birth. She was a Hepslovian refugee. A chill danced over me, but I sang louder, and intensified the rhythm.

Rocking slowly to my song, Selketh gathered the second talon into her fingers. "Now, I'm older, but I don't know my exact age. I don't even remember my birthday anymore. My childhood is torn away. The Pruessians have stolen my land, and all of my people live in big prison camps. I'm not hungry, my bed is warm. But the Pruessians scratch and slice at my mind. They're proud of what they've done to us. 'This is a new world, a new way that will set the world free', they tell us. All we have to do is obey, and pretend to love Hir Kaezer and his teachings. They're still monsters, though they claim to be civilized. I watched the troopers execute an entire family for trying to escape. Four shots, one for each skull. Even the little boy. He looked at me before his head burst open, his blood and brain red across the ground. He wasn't much older than I was. He never screamed out loud, but I heard his terror inside my mind. Like I sometimes hear things that people say aren't there. I screamed for him, since he couldn't anymore. A lady in the gathering crowd of prisoners noticed me, a stranger. She took me in her arms while I cried. Her body was warm, and she smelled nice. Like Amya used to when she hugged me at night and tucked me in bed. I looked into the stranger's eyes. They were kind, very blue, her own tears shining. She wore the black cap and insignia of an assimilated Pruessian citizen, but she was Hepslovian. She spoke to me, though her lips never moved. I heard her voice in my mind, drowning out the angry shouts of the dead with a calm, soothing voice. 'Poor child. I know you hear me. You hear things others cannot, don't you?' She said her name was Eleiana Blevasnya. She picked me up, and carried me into a new life. Became my new Amya. In time, I forgot all else but her. My teacher, my family, my mistress."

Selketh fell to all fours, her hands clenching against the floor. She took another sip of the potion, and wiped the excess from her lips with her handkerchief. Her chanting resumed. Another talon took its place in her grasp, the third in her progression of time, grief, and pain, and she swept us again into her dismal tale.

**Author's note** This passage is already too long for a single post, so I'm splitting it. The next installment will be up shortly. I promise it doesn't end here! Stay tuned, lovely seekers! Lady Selketh's story is one not to be missed ;)