Next must need come the circle. She lighted the small candle, then tucked away the rest of the matches. The tea herbs (fresh-bought camomile flower and catmint leaf, which she'd forgotten to unpack that afternoon) were shredded and placed in four equally-spaced piles to mark the four cardinal points of a circle.
As she had been taught, Kay then walked the circle, candle-flame and blade tracing its boundaries invisibly in the air. At each tiny pile, she would reverently set it alight, raise her skean dhu in salute and offer up a short prayer to certain Powers That Be.
Finally, she pronounced the circle to be closed, blew out the blue candle and seated herself in the center. Four tiny flames were enough; the original one was no longer needed.
At first there was complete silence. Then a soft chant wove itself around the delicate smoke-feathers of burning herbs. At first it seemed to be simply a nonsense melody like the voice of the wind as it whispered through a field full of tall grass. Kay's slender body began to slowly sway very slightly from side to side as if she was no more than a breeze herself.
Slipping ever deeper into a meditative trance, she felt for the currents of her qi as it flowed through her body. The two new outwards-leading threads hummed lightly as she touched them, conveying support from man and owl. Despite the temptation to savour this more fully, Kay reminded herself firmly of the higher priority.
The energy flow was indeed blocked and sluggish near her ribs. Surprisingly, there was another outward-leading line here. Could it possibly be that it was not her OWN chest that had suffered the damage ? As Kay focused her attention more closely on it, her sense of the man/owl faded into the background and were drowned out by a flurry of rather odd sensations.
Rough wood pressed against clenched claws ... fear for oneself and one's smaller companion ... a stomach empty too long ... the scrape of bone poking through skin covered in filth and dried blood ... a dim spark of hope ... a beak moving silently open and shut ... and a silvery streamer of qi that flowed across to the owl before splitting to loop around the two humans ... and the sense of a missing link in the circuit ...
Experience had taught Kay that prayer was simply a focus for the will. It worked best when it came from the depths of the soul, rather than being merely a repetition of something memorized. And so she decided to let it flow as it would. The hand of the Goddess would guide her tongue.
Sing-song words began to form out of the nonsense melody, floating like leaves carried on the wind.
"Earth is my body, water's my blood, Here I sit, alone in the mud.
Air's my breath, and fire's my spirit, All four quarters have I lit
O Holy Ones, I beg you heed Grant me strength to serve my need;
Little sisters, hear my plea, Come to where I'd have ye see
Fresh, red meat will I give for as long as I shall live
Safe home for sharing, Warm heart for caring;
Leave pain and sorrow, Embrace bright tomorrow
This I offer in fair trade, Will ye call it a bargain made ?
Let our fates be intertwined. Come to the call of my questing mind"
Then she waited ... and waited ... and waited ...
Ceroill waited as well, trying his best to be both unintrusive, and supportive in need. Again the old lessons stood him well.
At first, it seemed as if nothing would happen. Then the pile shifted and something shuffled forward into the edge of the candle-light.
Kay could tell it was some sort of dreadfully- thin bird, but not much else. Violet eyes met her own, and she felt a sense of hesitant acceptance.
"Amadaine", Kay named the bird softly, coloring the word with overtones of beloved beauty (even though the bird looked like nothing more than a clump of mud).
Slowly, she reached blindly for the pocket that still held a meatroll. Her fingers grasped it and prepared to offer it. Then another small body stepped out of the shadows. This time, eyes regarded her from the face of a small kitten who was small and black, like the rarest of fine pearls. "Mairead Dhubh", Kay called softly, hoping the kitten would accept the name. She tore the meatroll into two equal pieces and offered one in each hand.
This time, there was no shock in the merging. It was more like the senstion of slipping into a perfectly-warmed bath. Happiness/pleasure/delight flowed through the streamer which now formed a full loop.
Kay tucked the small feline form under her baggy tunic, inside the chest pocket of the jacket she wore underneath. Mairead mewed softly as she settled into a comfortable position. The woman's heartbeat sounding in her ears, she began to purr softly.
Before the small hawk could fuss, she was carefully gathered up by a pair of warm human arms and cuddled against the side where the kitten was not. A single weak cry trilled into Kay's ear before sleep claimed the bird. Worn down by the cloud of pain and exhaustion, Amadaine had come to the end of her strength.
"'Tis done", Kay pronounced softly, turning her head to speak to the man and the owl. The sense of the pair flooded over her again. "Goddess ha' mercy ... I feel stretched thinly indeed, and sorely taxed indeed", she said softly, starting to feel overwhelmed by the flurry of new sensations. A few deep breaths steadied her a little, but not enough that she felt able to rise unaided. "Mestru Ceroill, my dear friend", she said, "I do believe I ha' need of your aid once more. The world swims before my eyes, and I dare not fall".
Ceroill stepped forward, and carefully, with hands under her elbows, helped her up, and provided a sturdy shoulder to lean against. He led the way slowly and carefully back to his store/home. He sent a silent prayer to The Bearer of Burdens, and to Avarra, that the little ones survive, and that he had the strength and wisdom to deal with this properly. He resignedly but firmly fought down the feelings that began to emerge with the feel of this girl so close. Just a couple of more blocks, then in the back door....