Suddenly, through the coarse weave of the hood I glimpsed the red gleam of torches. The hood was plucked off, and I realized that I had been right, for we were standing before the gate to the enclosure around the well. But everything looked strange. Veiled women surrounded me, anonymous in the flickering light. The smallest of them held my arm. They took my cloak then, and the thin sleeping robe, leaving me naked before them, shivering in the chill air.
“Naked you came into the world,” said the same harsh voice that had spoken before. “Naked you must make your passage into your new life.”
The one who held me pulled me back. I guessed it was Heron, from her size. It must be the responsibility of the most recent initiate to guide the next one. The other women were forming into a line between me and the gate, legs spread wide.
“Through this passage you came into the world. Pass through the birthing tunnel and be reborn—”
“You must crawl between their legs to the gate,” hissed Heron, pushing me down.
“Through this tunnel you are born into the circle of women. Through this passage you will enter a new world.”
Biting my lip as the gravel dug into my kneecaps, I crawled forward. I felt the rough weave of woollen cloaks and the softness of linen gowns brush my back. As I passed between the priestesses’ thighs, smooth skin slid past my own and I smelled the musk of their womanhood, dizzying as incense. It was a shock to emerge from the warmth of that tunnel of flesh into the cool air of the garden beyond.
The gate was open. My guide led me through it and the other women followed, spreading out to either side. The last one to enter closed the gate behind me. Torchlight glittered red on the still waters of the pool.
A tall form stepped forward, blocking my view of the others. The shape was that of Cigfolla, but she seemed taller, and her voice had the unearthly resonance of ritual.
“You have come into the temple of the Great Goddess. Know that She wears as many forms as womankind, and yet She is singular and supreme. She is eternal and unchanging, and yet she shows Herself to us in a different guise with each season. She is Maiden, forever untouched and pure. She is Mother, the Source of All. And She is ancient Wisdom that endures beyond the grave. Eilan, daughter of Rian, are you willing to accept Her in all Her guises?”
I licked lips that were suddenly dry, but I was pleased to hear my answer coming steadily and clear.
“I am…”
The priestess raised her arms in invocation.
“Lady, we come here to welcome Eilan daughter of Rian into our circle, and to instruct her in the mysteries of womanhood. Holy One, hear us now! May our words express Thy will as our bodies show the form of Thy divinity, for we eat and drink and breathe and love in Thee…’
“Be it so—” came a murmur of assent from around the circle, and I felt myself begin to relax.
Heron draped the cloak around my shoulders again and pushed me forwards. Three chairs had been set on the other side of the well. The other priestesses had unveiled, but the three who were enthroned were still swathed in folds of gossamer linen, white, and black, and in the middle, red. Aelia was sitting across the circle; as she caught my eye she smiled.
“Daughter of the Goddess, you have left childhood behind,” said Heron, with the careful intonation of one repeating newly-learned lines. “Learn now what the seasons of your life shall be.”
I knelt before the priestess who wore the white veil. For a moment there was silence. Then the sheer fabric trembled as its wearer laughed. The sound came sweet and silvery as a trill of bells, and I shivered, understanding that something more than a human priestess was here.
“I am the flower that blooms on the bough,” said the Maiden.
The voice was light, sweet with promise, as familiar to me as my own, even though I was certain I had never heard it before. To hear it was like listening to the song of my soul, and I knew that this was the Goddess indeed.