The Red Abbey Chronicles by Maria Turtschaninoff

some more. In the next town I stopped in a boarding house for Joi farmers where I rested a few days and ate my fill. But then one night I was robbed. May whoever did it die unmourned and forgotten and buried in an unmarked grave! After that the ring I’d hidden was the only thing I had. I had to walk the final stretch to the harbour city where I eventually found a sea captain willing to take me here in exchange for my last piece of jewellery. I am sure the sailors would have abandoned or robbed me also, if they had not known the Abbey might pay even more when they got me here. And Mother did pay generously.”
    “Were you not hungry? Afraid?”
    Jai’s hand trembled but carried on sticking the needle in the cloth. “The whole time.”
    A deep-red dot seeped through the linen sheet under Jai’s hands. I gasped when I saw that it was not the cloth that she had put the needle in. She was stabbing at her left hand over and over again with the sharp point of the needle. When I held her hands back she hissed at me like a wounded animal.
    “You realize she is gone now, right? Maresi, she is dead. Mother is dead! Father would never have let her live.”

 
    A T THE SECOND FULL MOON AFTER the awakening of the Spring Star, moon and star come into alignment and it is time for Moon Dance. It is the most important of all the rites of the Abbey. It is when we visit the First Mother in her own realm and she meets us with all three aspects: Maiden, Mother and Crone. Moon Dance honours the First Mother and we dance for the fertility of the world and the inseparable union of life and death. Mother always explains this to us the day before the dance.
    * * *
    We undressed on the beach. The night was cloudless and the moon was high in the sky, gazing down on us from amongst her starry entourage. The moon who rules the movements of water and women’sblood, the moon who gives energy to all that lives and grows, the moon who measures time and reigns over death. The moon in whose image woman was created, the Moon, the Goddess, who hears our sorrows and shares our joy.
    We stood in a line, alternating sisters and novices, and Mother took her position at the front and began to sing. It was a wordless, wailing song which carried over the bay and encircled us as we walked along the beach, towards the cape that encloses the bay to the south. Mother led us around the cape to Maidendance, a labyrinth of smooth, round stones of the same sort found along the beaches. It is there all year, eternal and strong, but we only go there once a year at Moon Dance.
    Burning torches were stuck into the earth encircling the labyrinth. They made the surrounding darkness deeper still. When I looked up the Moon appeared larger than before, as if Mother’s song had brought her closer. It was a brisk night and the stones were chilly beneath my feet, but I did not feel the cold. Mother’s song kept me warm.
    Mother was the first to dance into the labyrinth and out again. Maidendance is not a labyrinth to get lost in. It is a labyrinth to lead us into theother realm. Where life and death are one, and the Goddess herself resides. Mother lifted her feet up high, took big steps and carefully avoided touching the stones which formed the labyrinth. Touching them brings very bad luck. Mother has danced the Moon Dance for many years and never touched a stone. She came to a stop when she reached the middle and started spinning around slowly while her song turned into words. Words about the Goddess, words of the Goddess. Words which lauded and praised, cowered and trembled, saw and foresaw. They were hard to catch and fully understand. I could hear her singing about danger, singing about blood, about lifeblood and spilt blood, and shadows coming ever closer.
    One by one sisters and novices weaved their voices into the song and danced through the labyrinth. Everybody danced in their own way and everybody added something new to the song. Voice after voice joined in with the song