Gods Concubine by Sara Douglass

seem affected by the climb at all. She let go Harold‘s hand and wrapped the shorter woman in a

tight embrace. “Mag!”

Harold felt himself freeze in awe. Mag? But was not Caela Mag-reborn?

The woman, Mag, returned Caela‘s embrace, then smiled at Harold. ―Mag-who-once-was

only,‖ she said. She reached out a hand for Harold and, hesitatingly, he took it.

Immediately a sense of peace flowed through him.

―Will you come into England‘s water cathedral?‖ said Mag, and she drew Caela and

Harold forwards.

She led them into wonder, and the moment they stepped inside Harold realised why it

was he found it difficult to put this building in focus.

It was, unbelievably, constructed entirely of water.

They had entered a massive hall—columned and vaulted in flowing water. It was the

most magical sight that Harold had ever seen, or could ever have imagined seeing. The vast interior of the hall was colonnaded on either side by twin rows of water columns, rising to some

fifteen or twenty paces where they merged into a gigantic circular domed vault that rose at least a

further twenty paces.

They walked to the centre of the hall, directly under the dome, and Harold looked down

to the floor.

It, too, was made of water, although it felt solid under his feet. The water (floor) was of a

deep, rich emerald colour, but running through it were lines of blue, trailing haphazardly,

crisscrossing each other at random intervals.

Harold raised his head to find Mag smiling at him.

―The island‘s waterways,‖ she said. Then she stepped forward and embraced Harold with

almost as much emotion as she‘d hugged Caela. ―Thank you for bringing her to us,‖ she said.

―It was my pleasure,‖ Harold said, and Mag laughed, and kissed him on the cheek.

―We wished she could have found you sooner, but that she found you at all is a blessing

indeed.‖

Harold was going to say something more, but then stopped as he saw that a score of

shadowy womanly figures had emerged from behind the columns to walk to within several paces

of where Mag, Caela and Harold stood. Most appeared in their late middle age, but apart from

their shared femininity and the gentle smiles on their faces, that was their only similarity. Some

were fair, some dark, some tall, some slim, some plump, some beautiful, some homely.

Harold gave a small start…there was one other thing all these woman shared in common.

They all had knowledge and power shining from their bright eyes.

For once, Caela seemed as puzzled as he.

Mag took Caela‘s hand, ignoring for the moment the other women. ―Caela, you have had

trouble accepting the heritage I bequeathed you.‖

―Yes. It has been…difficult. I felt myself empty. Lacking.‖

―Aye. For that you have blamed yourself. Ah, my dear, that was my fault, not yours.

Here, let me explain.‖

Mag gestured to the encircling women with her free hand. ―These woman are all my

predecessors, as I am yours.‖

Caela so forgot herself that she gaped. ―There were others before you?‖

―Indeed. I will explain, but first, if they may, my sisters would introduce themselves to

you.‖

―I am Jool,‖ said one of the women. ―I came three before Mag.‖

―And I am Raia,‖ said another. ―I came ten before Mag.‖

The woman all introduced themselves in turn. There were thirty-one of them.

Mag turned to Caela and took both her hands in her own, giving the woman her

undivided attention. ―I am the thirty-second in line from the dawn of time,‖ she said. ―You will

be the thirty-third. All of us have lived long lives, millennia long, and at our given time we have

passed into this world, handing on the responsibilities we shouldered to our successor. Part of

that succession was, firstly, ensuring that the woman we picked was mated with the land. That

normally happened before we left our successor to her work. In your case,‖ Mag smiled sadly,

―well…in your case, events, and Genvissa‘s darkcraft, intervened. I was not able to ensure that

you had mated with the land. No wonder you found it so difficult in this life.‖

―But,‖ said Caela, looking between Mag and Harold. ―Coel and I…‖ She stopped,

remembering.

―Brutus murdered Coel before the act was completed, before that moment when both of

you sighed in repletion. And besides, that act took place before I had told you of my decision.

That was not, in any sense of the word, a true mating of my chosen successor with the land,

although the souls were right. You both needed to be reborn into the places you are now to have

accomplished the act you have.‖

Caela nodded. Mag had told Cornelia of her plans many months after Coel‘s death, the

night Genvissa had forced her daughter from her womb.

―Normally,‖ Mag said, ―the old mother goddess of the land and the waters passes over at

the moment her successor and her mate have sighed in repletion. I went too early. I could not aid

you to the place that both of you found today.‖

―With the Sidlesaghes‘ aid,‖ said Harold.

―For my lack of being there,‖ Mag said, ―I apologise from the bottom of my heart.‖

―We all do,‖ said the woman who had called herself Raia, ―for we all should have helped

you.‖

―And welcomed you,‖ said a woman called Golenta.

―But late is better than never,‖ said Mag, smiling. ―You are here now. And Harold,‖ she

nodded at him, ―is here because he is a beloved man both to you and to us, and because all of us

need a witness when…‖ She stopped, and arched a questioning eyebrow at Caela, to see if she

understood.

―Ah,‖ said Caela, after a moment. ―You said that only part of the responsibility in

handing on succession was ensuring that your chosen successor was mated—married—with the

land. There is something else which needs to be accomplished, and which needs a witness.‖

Mag nodded, pleased. ―None of us shares the same name, my dear. And in the past few

months, you have felt awkward using the name ‗Mag‘, have you not?‖

―Yes, indeed.‖

―You have avoided using it,‖ Mag continued. ―It has not felt comfortable to you. That is

as it should be. My dear, when each of us came into our own, when we came into that power,

that embrace which you know as the essence of this land, its soul, we each chose for ourselves

our own name.

―Now,‖ she said, ―you must choose for yourself a name, as I chose Mag when I

shouldered the burden, and as all the other women present chose a name when their turn came.

Your name, your goddess-name, is not only most sacred, but most powerful. One day you will

wear it openly, but for the time being, until this land is free of the burden which currently

consumes it, it will be your secret name, and the more powerful because of that.‖

―I can choose any name I wish?‖

―Indeed, my sweet. But listen, for this is important. Your name will become your nature.

It will dictate who you are. You will never be able to act beyond the confines of your name, for

be certain that your chosen name will confine you. Do you understand me?‖

―I‘m not sure,‖ Caela said.

―I chose the name Mag when I ascended,‖ Mag said. ―In the language of the people who

lived on this land when I lived only as a mortal woman it means

welcoming…intaking…nurturing. I thought it the essence of motherhood, and for me that is

what I wanted to be for this land.‖

―Of course. Thus, Mother Mag.‖

―Yes. And as I had chosen that name, so it confined me—and eventually it damaged the

land. Can you know of what I speak?‖

Harold saw Caela‘s brow furrowing, then it cleared and understanding replaced the

puzzlement on her face.

―Ariadne. When she came begging a home you welcomed her. You took her in, because

that was your nature, that was your name.‖

―Yes. Mag was who I was, and it meant that once I took Ariadne in I could not reject her.

What mother can reject any of her children? The Darkwitches attacked me, and drew away my

power, but that was not the only reason I weakened. The time was coming when I needed to pass

into this world and pass on my responsibilities. ‗Mag‘ was no longer what the land needed.‖

―You all passed on when the ‗who‘ of you became irrelevant?‖

―Aye. And now you must choose your own name, Caela. Your secret name, your power

name, your goddess name. Choose well and choose wisely, for it must be a name that will

provide this land what it needs to repel the malevolence that assails it.‖

Caela drew in a deep breath, pulling her hands from those of Mag. Harold thought he saw

a fleeting expression of panic cross her face, and he didn‘t blame her. Choose well and choose