Runes of Light - Awakening of the Meta Witches

Chapter Six

Chapter 6 - Kenaz

Four women were gathered before a cave entrance and a small fire was burning in the middle of their Mabon circle. Sigrun recognised herself from the back. Her cinnamon coloured hair hung down her back in one smooth plait. Two raven feathers dangled onto her lower back and were barely visible against her black coat but every now and again they glistened in the moon light.

'Please don't turn around!' she mentally projected to her future self. The thought of looking into her own eyes made her stomach turn but she wasn't really worried - deep down, she knew the Allseing One had chosen a spot where they would not be seen.

Two of the other women were friends of hers and she instantly recognised them, in spite of the darkness being almost complete. Isabella a friend from gymnasiet (high school), on the left, was unmistakable by virtue of her long, blonde tresses that she meticulously straightened every morning. How she could get away with that and not burn her hair down to the roots was a mystery to Sigrun.

To the right of Sigrun stood Sara, her cousin and best friend. Sara lived in Norway but Sigrun and Sara were nearly exactly the same age and spent most of their seemingly endless summer holidays together in a little village north of Trondheim. As far as Sigrun was concerned, she belonged to an original coven of three which included grandmother Märthe, Sara and herself. Sadly their grandmother had gone home to Valhalla, battling a Norwegian paedophile ring by involving herself in psychic detective work and being grassed up by a paedophile judge in whom she had carelessly confided. The accident that happened two months later was no accident but it was impossible to prove otherwise.

The third young woman wasn't visible from their hidden vantage point but Sigrun had no sooner thought that when Munin swooped down on by her left side and made her take a couple of steps to the right, revealing the moonlit face of someone she had yet to meet.

Her name was Carol. Odin filled her in and imprinted that she must look up 'Abbey Dragons' online when she returned to the physical plane. Apparently that was the name of the business Carol operated. Carol was a widow in her late 50's who spent her days happily arranging dragon themed tours to British ley line landmarks, most of which were old abbey ruins.

Carol was an imposing figure in spite of not being much taller than average. She had thick, grey curly hair down to her shoulders, piercing deeply set eyes and thin lips. She and was crowned with a dragon diadem made of silver, gold and amethyst. In her right hand she held an oak staff, topped with clear quartz and feathered tassels hanging off it. Her robe was purple and she was barefoot in spite of the chilly weather.

All four women gathered, clasped hands and Carol began chanting. Her voice was both soft and strong at the same time... 'Sonorous! That's it. That's the word!' thought Sigrun to herself.

It was an Anglo-Saxon rune chant. Sigrun instantly recognised it although she herself preferred to work with the Futhark rune alphabet. Then it dawned on her that Carol was chanting the name of Jormungandr the Midgård serpent. She glanced over at Odin's face. He gave nothing away but he crossed his arms a bit tighter to his chest as a deep rumble began shaking the ground.

'Right, that's all you need for now!' Odin stated aprubtly, straddling Sleipnir in one gracious leap and offering Sigrun a hand. 'Put your arms around me and don't be afraid to drift off to sleep, daughter of mine.'

The rhythmic, smooth gallop of Sleipnir is the last thing Sigrun remembers before waking up in her room and realising that most of the afternoon had past.