Page 66 of Peacock Me Like a Hurricane

So, flower petals, I can do.

Her concept of a sacred space and initiating a ceremony is more complex than mine, but not entirely unconventional. I find great joy in dancing sky clad, feeling the cool breeze on my skin as I move. As a scientist, I have shed the societal norms that are rooted in puritanical Judeo-Christian beliefs and do not subscribe to any shame surrounding nudity.

As I twirl and spin through the circle, a sudden moment of clarity washes over me. My bare feet sink into the soft earth beneath them as my hair, long and flowing like a curtain, dances behind me. Deli is more than just a believer in our community’s principles - she is its creator. It dawns on me that I never bothered to ask questions about the foundation of this place, despite being one of its leaders. When I first arrived and ordered Mercury, it never occurred to me to inquire about how this hidden haven was built or how it remains concealed from the Cabal.

The thought of questioning the very fundamentals of our home never crossed my mind before.

For all their scientific advancements in creating the Rift and bringing clones to life, who paved the way for our Resistance after the Conflict? Who safeguards us and allows us to movefreely without fear of being ruled by others? These are questions I should have asked long ago.

A breeze blows through the circle as if knowledge has been imparted. It occurs to me as I whirl around this space that Deli is not a delusional fruitcake that subscribes to the crazy flower child religion. I know exactly who created our community and this space is a smaller version of her efforts.

The town’s most popular kitty, with her beautiful fur and charming demeanor, had been keeping a tremendous secret. A secret so big that it was bound to get out now. As for why she had kept it hidden, I can only imagine it was because being coveted by everyone was already enough pressure to handle. Revealing herself as a real-life magick user would surely make things spiral even further out of control.

But perhaps they were already spiraling out of control. Her mutation had caused unprecedented ripples that we couldn’t possibly have foreseen. And the similar mutations in her mates were just the beginning, a trend that could lead to unforeseen consequences.

As these thoughts tumbled through my mind, they became tangled in knots of concern. This revelation made everything real, rendering all patronizing smiles and nods insignificant. She hadn’t been playing a game when she claimed to be able to summon gods and goddesses to imbue us with their powers. That alone is a ripple that will have far-reaching effects.

Suddenly, self-doubt creeps up on me like a stealthy predator.

What if this doesn’t work? What if I’m the only one who can’t tap into this power? Or worse yet, what if it does work? What kind of entity will I call forth? How much power will I be relinquishing?

These were questions without answers, leaving me with a sense of unease and uncertainty about the future.I was nervous;now, I’m scared. From somewhere, the thought penetrates that I’m winding myself up into a panic. I stop to breathe. Deli must have woven more wards into this place than Ariadne put threads in her tapestry. She’s impulsive, but she’s been planning this thing like a wedding on crack for a month. She set up a space separate from the one I know she keeps at her home. Shemusthave put guards and wards and protection in this field that we cannot see but are there.

The kitty knew there was an element of the unknown, knew that people might have issues with the person their Goddess called, and that there could be conflict. She would not have put us all in danger. As angry and hurt as she is, she would stand in front of a bus for those she cares about even if they are the reason she is in pain.

I leave my thoughts for a moment, noting that there are more people here than when we started. Gods are arriving. I am curious who will come for them—and me.

As I stand in the midst of my fear-fueled panic, the presence of the males only adds to my unease. I try to force a sense of welcome into the air before closing the doors behind me, hoping to calm my racing heart and take in the balmy spring night. My breaths are slow, and I can feel nature all around me, every tiny movement causing the hairs on my arms to stand up in anticipation.

With a longing gaze, I look up at the sky above, envious of the freedom of birds and bees as they fly through the twinkling stars. It was this same sense of freedom that drew me to Arianrhod, the Celtic bird goddess of rebirth, fertility, and cosmic time. Though I had never truly believed in her until now, I felt her calling to me and to this ritual.

Raising my hands to feel the gentle breeze caress my skin, I inhale deeply, taking in the sweet scent and taste of the unspoiled clearing around me. The thought of humanity’svitality and our place within both this world and another dimension fills my mind as I sway with the wind.

Beneath the starry sky, I see myself as a pale waif in the night, dancing naked against the powerful gusts that surround me. With each passing moment, the breeze grows stronger and more forceful until it becomes a full-blown storm, its weight pressing down upon me.

But then, with one deep breath, Arianrhod takes hold of me and suddenly I am soaring with her through the dark clouds, flying higher and higher into the brewing storm. As we race through the swirling vortexes of moisture crystals, I wonder if anyone else senses what is coming. But there is no time for pondering as we continue on our journey through the turbulent skies at Arianrhod’s side.

My heart swells with joy as we take flight, our bodies perfectly in sync as we dance through the air. Our call to the creatures of the sky is met with an echoing response from a tempest nearby. A dark, winged figure appears on a crosswind and we soar closer, agile and determined in our pursuit.

I am surprised to find him here. His curved beak, hooked talons, and flashing light are all signs of a common bird, but his presence as a God from another pantheon is unexpected. Perhaps his earthly consort did not seek out someone from my Celtic roots, as Arianrhod had a magickal virgin birth for her son and later disowned him. It is possible that she found no suitable options among her own kind and reached out to someone who makes her spirit soar like we are soaring now.

His eyes are darkened by the storm, a clear indication that this is Thunderbird, unmistakable even among the other winged creatures in the sky. His screech joins ours in approval of our flight, and he takes a wing beside us, urging us to keep up with his immense speed. I am just a woman, I am Arianrhod, and Ibelong to this Earth, but I can only do so much in this mortal shell.

A warm sensation washes over me as he brushes against my skin, his touch igniting a fire within me despite the rain-soaked sky. He may seem cold being surrounded by storm clouds, but there is an intense heat emanating from him as if he has been struck by his own elements while up here. As we descend downwards through the howling winds and flashing lights, it feels like we are being taken to the heavens without even needing to fly.

I eagerly taste his lips, overcome with desire for him and his strength. Impatience consumes me as I wait for the storm to unleash its full force. Our hands and bodies adjust, connecting in perfect harmony as we soar through the clouds together, our inner animals fully released and soaring freely in the sky above.

A moment of clarity hits me again and I meet Mercury’s eyes, his expression joyful and free. This is the thing he loves, the situation he thrives in, and I hold my breath to see if this time, I will experience it with him. His deliberate motion lets me know that we are going to fall over the edge together and all the what-ifs fade from my mind.

Our worlds collide both as lovers and deities as our bodies fuse and heat to a boiling point. I clutch his shoulders and ride out the rumbling hurricane around us, my eyes following him as we get caught up in the vision of the birds again.

Fingers dig into plumage, talons comb muscled shoulders, and the world spins past in the night. The picture is a dark kaleidoscope: we spiral endlessly through the night, renewing our eternal connection. When our storm finally breaks, it’s with a shout of thunder that drowns out my songbird cries.

My skin feels damp and chilly as we lay on the grass. It tangles long hair around our bodies and our limbs are akimbo. I shift, allowing him to roll me into a more comfortable positionas I’m not sure how we got to where we are. The energy feels drained from my body, but I can hear the far cries of our avatars as the deities fly away together.

“Survived, pet?”

I look deep inside myself and feel the meat in my bones and the pinch of my nerves. I’ve got bruises and possibly sprains, and I am covered in dirt. But I feel refreshed, renewed, and calm. There’s a small spot that tells me something is not exactly complete, but it’s not important now. Now is not the time for more introspection.

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