The Banished Luna

Chapter 6

Despite the fact that the summer sun was still in the sky, the inside of the Wisdom House was dim, lit only by candles and a firepit in the centre of the circular hut. The Spákona was perched on a raised stool that had been draped with furs, and a half dozen youngsters sat before her, listening intently. Kara stood by, in the same white robe that Georgia had been given.

Sigrit saw them arrive, but didn’t acknowledge them.

“Go on…Kara will show ye the ropes” Flora give her a gentle shove towards the fireside gathering.

The Luna’s eldest daughter wrinkled her nose as Georgia approached, as if she had brought a foul smell with her. The reaction did not escape Flora’s notice, but she already knew how Kara felt about the pack’s new member. It was something that Georgia would have to deal with on her own.

“Where were you?” Kara hissed under her breath. “You disrespect our grandmother and her teachings”

“I fell asleep ok?” She snapped back. “I don’t want to be here anymore than you want me to be.”

“You will keep your tongue!” Sigrit turned and admonished the latecomer. “Now, fetch the artemesia and juniper leaves.”

Kara gestured to the wall of dried herbs in bundles and jars that lay just beyond the light of the fire, but made no move to help. The wall looked like it came straight out of a witch's cottage. Mismatched jars, dusty vials, little wooden boxes, leaves tied in neat packets, and all with worn tags and labels. The chicken-scratch script was not in any language that Georgia recognized, though. Nor did she recognize any of the mystery ingredients in front of her.

“Help?” Georgia whispered to her wolf.

You think I know anything about this nonsense?

The youths sitting around the fire stared at the panic stricken girl and started to murmur amongst each other, giggling and pointing. It was Georgia's worst nightmare. It was like being back in school, where she never had the right answer when called on. Despite clearly being lost, though, nobody came to lend a helping hand.

Georgia picked up a few random jars and replaced them on the shelves, trying to pretend she was legitimately looking for the correct herbs. Only her shaking hands betrayed her fear.

Sigrit shushed the youngsters and continued to observe the struggling girl.

Why aren’t they helping me? Georgia’s mind raced and her eyes filled with tears.

The silence seemed to overwhelm the room, but Georgia refused to give in. She continued to rifle through the contents of the shelves and little drawers for what seemed like hours.

“Enough.” Sigrit finally spoke. “Kara.”

Kara swept over to the herbs collection, plucked two jars from a shelf and brought them to her elder. She flashed a smug sneer at Georgia when she passed.

The old woman took a pinch from each jar and tossed them into the fire.

“Breathe the sacred smoke.” She said gently to the youths. She herself leaned forward and took a deep inhale. The smoke billowed around her white hair and rose in purple ribbons to the ceiling. The scent of pine and berries filled the air of the small hut.

Before taking a place beside the fire, Kara shoved the jars into Georgia’s hands. “Put those back, and be quick”

It was clear to the young woman that her role here would be no different from the kitchen work, fetching and carrying, and generally being a servant. A pout settled itself on her lips, but she took the jars and tossed them haphazardly onto the shelf. Before she could even turn around, a strong hand had grabbed her by the scruff of her robe. She whipped her head around and was met with Kara’s steel-grey eyes.

“Do not disrespect our sacred materials.” She growled. She let go of Georgia and crossed her arms. “Do it properly.”

Georgia straightened her robe with a small indignant huff and carefully rearranged the jars. Kara returned to the fire and leaned over it with the others, taking deep inhales. After a few such breaths, they all settled back in their seats on the floor and closed their eyes.

Within moments, the hut was deathly silent. The only sound was the crackling fire and the occasional creaking of the wooden structures that made up the Wisdom House.

Georgia shifted from one foot to another, unsure what she was supposed to be doing. Eventually, though, the fire started to die out, and Kara opened her eyes just enough to alert Georgia and point to a pile of firewood. She did as she was told and piled a few logs onto the fire; and continued to do so for the next three hours or so.

She had almost fallen asleep on her feet when Sigrit started to hum softly, then sing in a language Georgia didn’t recognize. One by one, the pupils opened their eyes, smiling beatifically.

“Who wants to speak first?” Sigrit asked. A young girl immediately put up her hand. “Johanna, what did you see?”

“I think I saw my wolf!” She said joyfully. She looked to be no more than 14.

“That is possible, little one. Even if you do not manifest your wolf until you come of age, she is with you from the moment you are created in your mother’s womb. Tell us more.”

“Well...” Johanna paused. “...It’s hard to describe. It was more like a feeling.”

“Part of your training here is learning to read those feelings. Please, try.” This was a different side of the old woman than Georgia had seen. She was not the judgemental old crone that had dismissed her in the longhouse.

“Ok.” Johanna closed her eyes and screwed up her face in concentration. “She’s…fast. She’s speaking so quickly. But I can’t understand what she’s saying”

“Good, keep going.”

“I see a wolf shadow, coming out from some trees and...no, that’s all I can see.” The girl deflated a little, disappointed.

Sigrit smiled though. “You did very well. You should be proud.”

Few other children spoke up before Sigrit dismissed them all with a blessing. Kara accompanied The elder back to the longhouse, and Georgia was left to put out the fire, sweep up, and put away the rugs and furs.

By the time Georgia got back to her little room, she was dead on her feet. She pulled the robe off, flung it on the desk, and fell into bed without even getting under the covers.

But even her sleep that night wouldn’t be restful.