Read Avelynn for Free Online Page B

away from something so wonderful?
    I closed my eyes. “What am I to do, Mama?”
    I listened, waiting for an answer or a sign to appear. I heard the abundant calls of birds, the soft rustling of a small animal rooting through the bushes nearby, but nothing sounded amiss. I felt the warmth of the sun on my head, a cold breeze nipping at my cheeks and nose, but I did not hear or sense any answer.
    I opened my satchel and pulled out an earthen bowl. From a small stoppered urn, I poured in enough water until it quivered on the edge of spilling. I made a tinder nest of dried fungus and grass and struck the flint with the steel fire lighter until a spark teased the kindling and it began to smoke. Cradling the nest, I blew on it softly until the glowing ember surged and caught the grass and a hungry flame emerged. I placed the nest carefully under a handful of small twigs. I reached my arms to the sky and offered a silent invocation to the Goddess and my mother’s spirit. I added an extra appeal to Thunor, the Saxon thunder god, Woden, the Saxon god of knowledge and prophecy, and Jesus, the Christian god, for good measure.
    My mother and Bertram followed the Goddess, but since living in England, they readily adopted the English gods into their pantheon. As warrior and chieftain, my father—while a Christian—still held a soft spot for the powerful sky god, Thunor, so it was not uncommon to find the gods fraternizing with the Goddess in their worship and rituals.
    I appealed to them all now. I needed to know what my future held and if I would be forced to marry Demas. I wanted to know if I would ever fall in love. And for these insights I needed the last item from my satchel—my divining bones. I opened the white silk pouch and tipped the small bleached bones onto the ground before me.
    They fell into almost two distinct piles, with one small fragment traversing the void in between—a choice perhaps between two paths, or two sides. Each bone had an Ogham symbol carved into its surface. Huath/Hawthorn was turned upward—a test ahead, as was Tinne/Holly—attack or defense. Muin/Vine was also prominent—wealth … my inheritance, my legacy might be in jeopardy. I frowned. The most worrisome symbol was Ioho/Yew, for it stood for destruction and transformation.
    I didn’t like the message. A test or challenge ahead—where I was either being attacked or must become defensive. My legacy, my wealth, and my status might be threatened. And before transformation and rebirth, there would be destruction. I leaned over my earthen bowl and looked upon the water’s reflective surface, hoping a clarifying image would appear.
    A ruckus of thrashing and screeching emerged from behind me. I turned. A magnificent raven burst from a large ash tree, its wing injured as it tried to fly overhead. I watched its struggle in fascination, and several large droplets of blood fell onto my face. Startled, I blinked and jerked back as the warm moisture ran down my cheek.
    The ground shook. A loud crash brought my attention back to my mother’s grave. A boar as large as two grown men barreled out of the woods, huge tusks extended from its long snout. I imagined those vicious points goring me through, and my hands grew clammy with sweat.
    I held very still and tried to merge with the inanimate stone that hid most of my body from view. I prayed the beast would not see or hear me. My breath, shallow and quick, sent small puffs of mist billowing into the air above me. I became aware of each sound my body made—the rasping sound of my breaths, my heart hammering in my ears, the thundering of blood rushing through my veins—as my body prepared to either fight or flee. I prayed to the gods neither would be necessary, as the boar could easily outrun me if I tried to flee, and with my sword out of reach, there wasn’t much opportunity to be victorious in a fight, either.
    Cool perspiration prickled along