Chapter 1
Deep in the piney woods of East Texas sits a circle of stones. Laid out in orientation with the solstices and equinoxes like ancient monuments across the globe, it is of far more recent vintage, the stones cast in concrete. For the people gathered there on this winter’s solstice, it did not matter. The alignment with the solar system and therefore the universe itself was what mattered, not how long it had stood. Stonehenge had once been young, too.
As often happens in that part of the world, it was a mild night for late December, the temperature just a bit below 50 degrees. It made it convenient to wear robes instead of coats. The clothing didn’t matter for the purpose at hand, but there is a reason rituals have meanings. Traditional garb was conducive to the proper mindset, and as these practitioners knew, it was the mind that was the real conduit for the forces they were accessing.
Those robes were white, natural wool in this case. No synthetics or metal interfered with the link they had established to ancient and primal energies. Equally as pure was the motivation. There was nothing satanic or demonic in these rites. This was akin to Wiccan, but it had layers and reach beyond just that. The leader was the latest in a long string of mystics stretching back to Europe and the Middle East. It was an unbroken line reaching back millennia, even before the civilizations of Egypt and Babylon that were the earliest mentioned in records that had been transcribed repeatedly into new languages.
For these people, this was about connecting to the earth and nature. There were rewards for them, to be sure, but responsibilities as well. They practiced healing both physical and spiritual. Those fortunate enough to seek and find their help often had better results than from conventional physicians. These people also saw themselves as stewards of the land. It could be a depressing role as civilization still resisted the need to stop polluting and destroying nature before disaster came. But the rites being practiced also brought tranquility and peace. They knew their reach was limited and were content to do what they could.
While pagans and others also celebrated this night, now drawing closer to the dawn heralded by the lightening of the eastern horizon, this was a particular ritual that was practiced in only a small number of places by others connected to this ancient tradition. It was kept secret, quite successfully. There was power for these scattered groups. They knew from hard experience and history how dangerous that could be. This rural part of Texas was steeped in Evangelical belief, and they could easily be persecuted. With the rising and tragic willingness of some elements of society to strike violently against those that were different, their safety was intertwined with remaining hidden from the public. Likewise, others would seek to exploit the gifts that could be gained for selfish.
Unfortunately, not all of the groups that gathered across the globe with knowledge of the powers at play were as benevolent or altruistic. Some sought the power strictly for their own benefit and even to exact revenge on others. Those too could be a danger to this particular group. For the most part there was an uneasy truce between the two camps the mystic community had split into. But the danger of it flaring into a kind of warfare could never be ignored.
For now, though, this was a time of celebration under the starry skies. The fourteen women of the coven danced in the light of the bonfire at the center of the circle, built on a central pad with a deeply engraved pentagram. Six men were also present, not playing a significant role in the rituals but to help with the celebrations that inevitably followed. This was a magic that had a strong sexual component, and while most of the women were very happy with turning to one another, there were also those for whom a man was the best way to express that. The men, ranging in appearance from just out of their teens to over 50, were more than happy to participate. A couple were even in long term relationships, but for these people, polyamory was more than just a practice. It was knit into their very fabric.
All but one of the rites, each with its own purpose, had been completed. The one remaining was the most mysterious, for no one, not even the leader of this group or any around the world, knew its exact purpose. Still, it had been passed down through the centuries as the most important of all.
As the dancing figures stilled, the leader, named Rosalind, stepped to stand before the easternmost point of the bonfire, the rest gathering before her. She raised her arms. “Now, this final incantation as the sun prepares to dawn and begin the journey to new life after the long decline into winter.
“Earth and water, air and fire.
Bless us with your guardian powers.
Send us those who hold your essences.
Let us welcome them with open arms and minds.
Let us aid them as they grow.
Give them your blessings here to live.
Never let us fail them or them us.
Complete the circle full in body and soul.”
In all past times, that had been the end, and the group would watch the sun rise, casting the perfect shadows on the marker stones. But this time, an electric energy suddenly rose, causing hair to stand on end. The bonfire, which had been dying down, flared anew. Strange colors, green, blue, orange, and yellow, glowed out. Those colors pulsed ever brighter before coalescing into globes of almost blinding brilliance. The watchers drew involuntarily back with gasps of amazement and more than a little fear. They had all practiced it enough to know the truth of the magic, but this was an unprecedented and unknown phenomenon. The power was unquestioned, everyone there feeling it viscerally.
Suddenly the four balls of light swirled into a tight circle and then shot straight up in the air. They soared almost out of sight before breaking apart to fly away at tremendous speed in apparently random directions.
For a long moment only the crackling of the fire, once again just a remnant of the flaming logs it had begun as, was the only sound. Then a woman turned to Rosalind. “What in the absolute fuck was that?”
“I have no idea, Julietta.” Rosalind let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “But I sense no danger or evil. Just - something totally unexpected and unexplained. And power. Tremendous power.”
The youngest and newest woman of the coven, but one who had established her own high level of perception about magic and its forces, came up. “I didn’t either. But I did feel - I don’t know, a release, like whatever those lights were had been waiting a long, long time. Perhaps for the time to be right? Something like that.”
Rosalind nodded. “You usually are right, Heather. There certainly is nothing we can do about it now. Later today, we will have to start doing research to see if we can find some clue what this was.” She looked at the faces of her coven, uneasiness and puzzlement clear on their faces in the slowly increasing light. First, she needed to calm and reassure everyone. She raised her voice so all heard clearly. “But for now, we have something else to complete our celebration of the solstice.”
Remembering just what that entailed, the others began to relax and move towards others. Rosalind reached out and put her hand on Heather’s neck as Julietta moved toward her boyfriend Chet, who put his arm around another woman as he held his hand out to Julietta. “Heather, darling, I have not had your delightful taste in my mouth for, oh, hours. Would you like to join me for a while?”
Heather leaned in for a kiss, one hand coming up to cup one of Rosalind’s full breasts, her thumb circling the nipple. “Always,” she whispered just before opening her mouth for Rosalind’s tongue.
About 150 miles to the west, in the sprawling Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex, another leader surveyed his own gathering as a young woman with unnaturally red colored hair knelt before him, enthusiastically sucking on his cock. They too had engaged in some of the same rituals, but with a decidedly more lascivious twist, including sex acts, sadomasochism, and some bloodletting. Nothing dangerous, and certainly no sacrifice, human or animal, at least for tonight, but with a deliberately wicked slant. Now things were turning into a clear orgy.
Roman was a skilled practitioner of magic, but he was in it strictly for himself, as were the other members of his group, currently 18 in number. There were nearly double that present, as none of them were hesitant to use their magic to seduce and attract tasty participants for their pleasure.
He actually preferred the gatherings twice a month that were not tied to the four key sunrises of the year with all their tedious chants and rituals. But those were key to maintaining their mystical powers and were never shirked.
But suddenly his head jerked up to gaze at the ceiling of his large and lavish mansion. Something had happened, something of a level of power he could not recall in his over half a century since being inducted into the secret world he had exploited relentlessly and at times ruthlessly. His gaze was drawn heavenward, even though all he saw was the black ceiling of the large basement. It was not something you found in many buildings in Texas, where most dwellings were constructed on a simple concrete slab.
He wondered what had touched his extra sense and what it could possibly mean. He also got a clear sense of direction for its origin. Somewhere to the east, and not terribly far away.
That set his teeth on edge. He knew there was another magical group, and a powerful one, in the woods to the east of the North Texas plain. Its exact location was hidden behind wards and bindings. Still, he was well aware of its nature, the opposite of this one. He had never perceived it as a threat, but that was at least partly because he sensed they were roughly equivalent to his own little organization in power, which argued against confrontation, and also because they were too far away to normally come into conflict.
Now, he had to wonder uneasily if something had just happened to change the balance of power. That in itself did not make them a threat. There was little chance that those nature worshiping tree-huggers would want to encroach on his territory, which was the urban area with all its mass of humanity to prowl and use.
Reflective of his own nature, he was still very leery of any potential rival. He seldom had needed to act on risks and possible threats. They hardly ever arose, to be honest. But the possibility that the do-gooders had a new power immediately put him on guard against it being a danger. He would have used anything like that to increase his strength and certainly to crush potential rivals. It was inherently beyond him to believe others would not do the same.
Grabbing the woman’s hair and jerking her head roughly back from his now deflating dick, he growled “You’ll have to go find someone else to ride you, bitch.” He strode from the large room, black silk robe flapping around his otherwise naked form, and went to his private chamber. Sitting in a huge leather swivel chair behind an ostentatiously ornate wooden desk, he sat back. Pouring a ridiculously expensive single malt scotch into a crystal tumbler, he pondered how he could find out more about what those bitch witches were up to in the woods.
