Maudlin's Mayhem (Bewitching Bedlam #2)(45)
He let out another concerned meow before bouncing off to his food dish.
“Franny! Franny?”
Franny appeared as I dashed down the stairs. She was waiting at the bottom for me.
“I’m heading out. Keep an eye on things. Come into the library with me.”
She followed me as I tapped quickly on the keyboard of her computer. I brought up a text messaging program. “You can use the voice commands to text me if anything happens. If it’s an emergency—and only if it’s an emergency—say ‘Emergency Code Red’ and it will set my phone off even if I’m in the middle of ritual. Otherwise, I’ll check for messages every chance I get. You understand?”
She nodded. “I do. I won’t let you down.”
“Thanks. You and Bubba have fun.” As I grabbed my keys, I hoped to hell that nothing else went wrong before I got home.
THE TOWN WAS jumping, with everybody gearing up for the celebration. The BCU—the Bedlam Star Credit Union—had cordoned off a section of its parking lot for those of us in the Moonrise Coven, given we were leading the ritual. It was directly across from Turnwheel Park—a large city park that was used for holiday events. During the rest of the year, the city sold licenses to various vendors and events coordinators to hold large-scale productions.
During the spring and summer, the farmers’ market ran almost every weekend, and the park was filled with Renaissance fairs. In autumn, the Bedlam County Fair held competitions, including a jam & jelly competition, a pickling competition, and the best baker’s competition. Neverfall Academy held its annual spelling bee in the park, along with dances and other events. Thanksgiving saw the community dinner, where all were welcome. The Winter Carnival was a yearly event. And through the year, the Moonrise Coven led rituals for the four of the eight High Holy days. We guided the city through the equinoxes and solstices.
I found the rest of the coven and made sure to put on a good face for them. Tonight was about new beginnings and renewal and a balance of energies between light and dark. I forced myself to focus and leave everything else outside as we discussed the final preparations for the magical ritual we’d be leading.
Sandy and I checked over the altar to make certain everything was there—the ritual sword, with which I would cast the Circle, the chalice and cakes, the incense, and the spell components I’d need to conjure up the butterflies for the end of the ritual.
Finally, satisfied that all was in order, I motioned to the coven and we retreated into a small tent to the side. Everyone was there who was supposed to be: Sandy and me, Tristan, Angus, Terrance, and Tanith. Members of the current Inner Court Council, we would lead the ritual. The other members of the coven—sixteen in all—would take their places throughout the crowds, guiding the townsfolk through the ritual.
An auxiliary group, the Moonrise Drummers—a group of witches who found their magic through music—were there to play for us. Thirteen in number, together they possessed an amazing array of talents. They stationed themselves at the four directional markers and as we neared five p.m., they began to beat out a tattoo, calling the village to ceremony.
We waited until the precise moment, and then I led the other ritualists to the main altar.
The rest of the coven led the townsfolk who had gathered—there must have been a thousand people who showed up for the ritual—into a series of concentric circles around the main altar. The drummers built the tempo and then, when everyone was in place, I lifted the sword high into the air and the drumbeat fell to a hush.
“Welcome to Bedlam’s Ostara ritual. We’re grateful so many of you could turn out today to help us turn the wheel and celebrate the equinox.”
I had a wireless mic clipped to me, and my voice rang out to fill the park, startling even me. This was the first public ritual I had led. Winter Solstice had been spent in transferring the power of the coven to me, and the city had made do with the Winter Carnival.
As I led the ritual, casting the circle with the sword, leading the others as we called in the elements, then guiding a thousand disparate people through the synchronized event, I forgot about my problems. I was able to let go and channel the energy of spring, welcoming it into the town, welcoming it into our community.
By the time we finished, ending in a massive spiral dance, people were singing together, dancing to the drummers, and setting up for the community potluck. The kids were playing games like “Pin the tail on the centaur,” and the ever-old favorite, “Crack the whip.”
Exhausted by how much energy I had channeled, I let out a long breath and forded through the crowds over to our private tent. Most of the coven was mingling with the public but Sandy, Angus, Terrance, Tanith, and I had all retreated. The entire ritual had rested on our shoulders and now, we just wanted a little time to relax.
Shauna and Kase, members of the Inner Court, brought in plates for us, stacked high with roast beef and macaroni and cheese and other assorted goodies. They returned with glasses of sparkling cider and water, then retreated once again, giving us our space.
“That was a good ritual,” Angus said. “Linda was always a little hesitant on leading the community rituals, even though she was more than capable. At least we’re done with this till Litha.” He glanced at his watch. “I need to go home soon. My wife’s pregnant and I don’t think it’s going to be much longer. I’ll see you at the coven meeting next Monday, on the new moon.” He found a to-go box and arranged his food in it, then headed out of the tent.