Marianne’s back ached from leaning over the sewing machine for so long. In front of her was a basketful of brightly colored ribbons. Everyone had contributed, but with all her distractions of late, Marianne’s offerings were the last.
Their mother was adding some last touches of henna paint to the back of Margaret’s hand. At thirteen, this was her first official Yew Day, and their kid sister couldn’t have looked more pumped. She sat perfectly still, her back straight, delighted to take her first steps into the giddy world of grownups. Marianne glanced at her own markings on the back of her hands, which her mother had painted on earlier. Had she ever been that eager, she wondered?
“There, that’s the last one,” Marianne said, flopping back in her chair. “Are we all set now? I need to get changed.”
Elinor looked up from the basket she was working on, where she was neatly placing a small scoop of saffron in the center of her bowl of herbs and spices. Marianne was glad Elinor volunteered for the herb bowl. That stuff was expensive, and Marianne didn’t fancy another scolding from Elinor if she messed up.
“Yes, I think so,” Elinor said.
Thankfully, Elinor was never one to hold her anger for long. Even though Marianne believed Elinor had overreacted about the car—and shamed her in front of Willoughby—a tiny voice deep inside knew her sister had been right and that she’d been out of line. Marianne told her inner voice to be quiet and ran upstairs to dress for the ceremony, leaving Elinor to fuss around with the herb pots.
Marianne pulled her traditional Lincoln-green robe from her cupboard and slid it over the top of her jeans and T-shirt. She let her hair, held up in a loose topknot, fall to her shoulders and brushed it out. She applied a little gloss to her lips. Willoughby had said he would try to make their morning worship if he could, but if not, he’d definitely be at the barbecue. She might as well go prepared.
“Are you ready, Marianne?” her mother called from downstairs.
“Just coming!”
Marianne slipped into a pair of flats and skipped freely down the stairs. All thoughts of everything else jumped out of her head at the prospect of hooking up with Willoughby again. She even picked up the bowl of ribbons, ready to get going. Her mother smiled approvingly. Elinor was ready to go, the herb bowl in her hand, and Margaret carried a bowl of fruit and nuts.
“Ready, girls?” their mother said.
“I’m ready,” Margaret said, looking cute as a button in her new robe, Marianne had to admit.
“Good.” Their mother led the way with her ball of red and gold thread that she’d woven herself, and the girls followed her out—Elinor first as the elder, then Marianne, then Margaret. They followed her in procession along the north of the cliff, their mother stopping only when she reached the eldest tree, a great white pine. Sadly, they hadn’t encountered a yew in the area, though that wouldn’t stop them.
All their friends had come to share this time-honored dryad tradition. Mrs. Jennings was there, beaming and clearly having forgotten (for now) her recent transgression; Chris Brandon, looking very solemn; Uncle John, Gemini, and all their boys, who for once were well behaved and scrubbed. There were even a few faces Marianne didn’t recognize, whom she assumed were the out-of-town relatives and no doubt would be introduced later. She thought she caught a hint of wing; succubi perhaps, or faerie—she would find out soon enough.
But the one face she truly sought was not there. Willoughby was nowhere in sight, so Marianne lowered her eyes, not wanting anyone to guess at her disappointment.
Mary began by kneeling in front of the tree, her daughters lined up behind her, waiting for their turn to approach.
“Sisters of Gaia,” Mary said in a loud, clear voice so everyone could hear her. “We give thanks for your many blessings. For your beauty and your blossoms, for the food you provide to us and the air you clean for us. For the fuel you give to warm us and the timber you provide to shelter us. Sisters of Gaia, for all that you give us, please accept these humble tributes from your thankful daughters.”
Then she stepped forward and, with the help of a friendly branch that had swooped down to hold one end of the thread while she walked around the tree, she managed to tie the whole thing to its mighty trunk.
Finally, she stood to one side and bowed her head.
Elinor was next, and after kneeling in reverence, she placed her bowl of herbs at the roots, then carefully smeared some of the saffron spice on the bark, painting it slightly orange.
Marianne followed, and forgetting her personal disappointment, she knelt before the great pine. As soon as she did, she closed her worldly mind to let the spirits of the trees embrace her soul. After accepting their gift of peace, the pine tree spirit lifted her up to its taller branches, allowing her to tie the ribbons she carried to its upper limbs.
Marianne felt safe and at peace, like a child returning to the secure arms of a beloved mother, as the tree moved her around its upper branches. Only when it returned her to the ground below and the connection severed did she think of Willoughby again. But she did her duty and stood beside her sister and bowed her head.
Last, but not least, Margaret knelt before the tree, and after praying, she placed her little bowl of fruit beside Elinor’s bowl of spices.
Playfully, a branch swooped down, accepting the dryad child as one of their own. Marianne couldn’t help but smile to see the joy on Margaret’s face. This was her first ceremony and the first time a tree had carried her to its bosom. She remembered her first time and how wonderful that bond of magic had felt, and for a moment she could feel no sadness but could only share her sister’s happiness.
When at last the tree carefully lowered Margaret to the ground, the youngest sister took her place beside Marianne. For a moment, all was quiet.
Then a faint cracking noise could be heard coming from below, and a few feet away a new sapling broke free of the ground and began to climb upward. Marianne saw at once that it was a new yew tree. This was the highest honor the trees could bestow, and the joy of the tree spirits filled her soul. Marianne stole a glance at the onlookers, who had gasped in awe. A slight breeze returned to the branches above. The ceremony was over.
“That was amazing,” Margaret beamed, the first to break their ranks. “I want to do it again and again and again!”
Mary laughed. “You are a daughter of the tree spirits. You can do this now whenever you want. You have nothing to fear, they will protect you.”
“I can do this forever?” Margaret gasped in awe. Marianne had lost track of the times they had told Margaret this. But knowing it and experiencing it were totally different things, so for once she didn’t tease her.
“Until you are bonded,” Elinor said. “It was amazing, wasn’t it?”
“Then I’m never going to be bonded!” Margaret said. And everyone laughed. “It was like flying!”
Overcome with joy, Margaret threw herself into her mother’s arms. Elinor walked over to the others, but Marianne hesitated, as she saw Chris was smiling directly at her and she didn’t want to feel obliged to speak to him. Willoughby might come at any moment, and what would he think then? Anyway, talking to Chris only made her feel awkward, and she wasn’t in the mood for that. Instead she turned away and pretended to straighten the thread around the tree. Only when she was sure Chris was no longer looking her way, distracted by her mother and Mrs. Jennings, did she dare to join the rest of the party.
As soon as she was close, Gemini stepped forward and gently took her by the arm. “Oh Marianne, I would like you to meet some of my family, Lucy and Anne Steele.” She led her over to where the two girls in question were chatting to Cousin John and Elinor.
“Ah, there you are,” John said. “This is Marianne, Elinor’s younger sister. Marianne, these are the wife’s relations, though I don’t recall quite how. But they are lovely girls, and they were both anxious to meet you and your sister. My, my, all this beauty coming out of the blue, I can hardly contain myself. Well, this here is Anne, and this one is Lucy, or is it the other way around? I’m always forgetting.”
“Oh John, you’re such a tease, but then you men are all alike, I suppose,” Anne said—or was it Lucy? “It’s a pity you don’t have any brothers, Marianne, but John tells me there’s a heck of a lot of good-looking guys in town and, well, we’ve only just got here. I can’t wait to meet some of them, isn’t that right, Lucy? Not that you’re interested in meeting someone, eh, Marianne? I heard Willoughby is here all the time, and he looks pretty all right to me. I wouldn’t have minded a go at that myself, if you hadn’t got in there before me! Ha ha!”
Marianne blushed at the mention of Willoughby—Did she have to be so crude?—and Lucy seemed quick to notice.
“Oh Anne,” Lucy gasped. “Do you ever stop thinking about boys? You’re a terror, I swear. We’ve only just met these girls. At least give them a chance to say hello.”
Both girls were about Elinor’s age, Anne perhaps look a little bit older. Though pretty, her open expression made her look a little stupid. They were dressed well, in very fashionable designer jeans, and now that she could see them up close, Marianne was sure they were succubi. Their strong leather wings were tucked tight behind them but were clear enough through the slits of their jackets. Anne couldn’t stop looking around, and when her gaze fell on Chris, which it seemed to do every few seconds, she would giggle and nudge her younger sister.
Lucy, who was a shade taller than Anne, could only be described as stunning, with bottle-green hair and sea-green eyes. She wore a tight leather jacket that showed off her curves to perfection, but unlike her sister, she didn’t seem interested in the company at all. That is, except for Elinor, whom she couldn’t take her eyes off.
“Um, it’s nice to meet you,” Marianne said, wanting to change the subject and shaking each of the offered hands in turn. Anne’s handshake was soft and squishy, and Lucy’s was firm and pleasantly warm. Marianne found herself not wanting to let go but somehow managed to. “Did you enjoy the tree ceremony?”
“Oh we did indeed, didn’t we, Lucy?” Anne replied. “I confess, I almost died when that tree swooped down and pulled you off the ground. I mean, me and Lucy can fly of course, but it doesn’t stop us getting dizzy when you non-flying folk take to the air. Ooh, my heart was all a flutter, I tell you. Do they do that often in these parts? The trees I mean. Because I swear, I’ve never seen them act that way before.”
“There’s no need to be frightened,” Marianne laughed. “Dancing with our tree friends is one of the most exciting things a dryad can do. Becoming one with the trees gives us all great pleasure.”
“I can think of a few things that give us great pleasure, eh, Lucy?” Anne said, nudging her sister. “That Chris guy, is he single?”
“Anne, be quiet will you,” Lucy exclaimed. “Why must you always be going on about men and things? You must excuse my older sister,” she said to Marianne. “Sometimes she babbles on when she should hold her tongue.”
Anne blushed, looking a tad goofy. “Oops, sorry Lucy.” But she didn’t say anything more.
“They just arrived this morning,” Gemini said. “They bought so many toys for the children, I just don’t know what to do with them. Thank you so much.”
Lucy smiled, although Marianne noticed she smiled only with her mouth. “Oh, it was nothing, really. Anything for those lovely little boys.”
“Ah yes, the kids are very thankful,” John beamed. “You didn’t have to go to any trouble on our account.”
“It was the least Anne and I could do, given your hospitality to us.”
Marianne stifled a sigh, not quite fitting in with the crowd today. Willoughby had said he might not make it, but that didn’t stop her hoping he’d get here all the same. And worse, now she had to contend with the run-at-the-mouth sisters. It just wasn’t fair!
“Well, it was nice to meet you,” Marianne said, anxious to make her escape. “But I’m afraid I have a lot to do before tonight. I’ll see you there, won’t I?” Marianne said, knowing she would but wishing she wouldn’t.
“Oh, of course, that’s why we’re here,” Lucy said. “We’ll catch up with you then. Oh Elinor, if you have time, would you come for a little walk with me?”
Elinor looked surprised at suddenly being addressed. “Er, okay, if you like.”
Before Elinor could change her mind, Lucy linked her arm through Elinor’s and the two disappeared off on their own. What could they have to discuss, Marianne wondered? They had only just met each other. Ah well, she was sure Elinor would tell her later back at the house.
“See you later,” Marianne said, eager to make her own escape before Anne or the others could speak again.
“Yes, yes, go pretty yourself up,” John said. “Not that you need it. So many pretty faces, what is one to do!”
“See you later,” Anne said. “Hopefully, with you-know-who next time! Ooh, she’s so lucky!”
Before Anne could get too excited, Marianne waved goodbye and headed back to the house. She’d be seeing them later in the day anyway. Maybe Willoughby would show up before that, so she could stake her claim before Anne made a play for him. Taken or not, she wouldn’t put it past the horny succubus to try. Wasn’t that what they were famous for? Of course, incubi were famous for things, too, but Willoughby wasn’t like that. He was a gentleman. He’d been so nice to her. Unlike creepy stalker Chris Brandon. Couldn’t he take the hint? She’d made her choice, and he should respect it.
Willoughby, where are you?!