The Wyrd of Willowmere

Chapter 13

"Gaia," murmured Claire. "I've met Gaia herself. The spirit of the Earth, you could say."

"That is a poetic way of putting it," said Leo. The kitten sat on her bed, watching as she brushed her hair. "But it's not without some truth."

"Yeah. And she doesn't care that much for people, but she thinks sharks are great. Oh, well. We'll just have to add an environmentalist message to our shamanic teachings, to appease Gaia and her daimons. That won't be hard, since Myra and I are major eco-freaks anyway." Claire spoke lightly, her tone reflecting her mood: for the first time in many days she felt her optimism returning. There was a chance, a very good chance, that things could be put right. It was not malice she faced in Gaia, only a mistrust that could be remedied with patience and dedication. And she had many years in which to accomplish her task, a whole lifetime in fact. The burden of urgency was lifted from her. As for Phobetor, without his most formidable daimon ally and her followers he would pose far less of a threat. Claire went downstairs to breakfast with a smile on her face and a spring in her step.

"You were out very late last night," said her father as she entered the kitchen.

"Oh, yes. Sorry," she said, heading for the toaster. "Myra and I have an important deadline to reach."

"As long as it doesn't take time from your regular school- work," he said. But he seemed to be watching her more closely than usual, she thought.

"The semester's almost over, Dad. It's the Christmas holidays next week." As she said this, it seemed to Claire as though she had once again entered the world she'd known before, where things like Christmas mattered. Her spirits rose higher still. There were still many challenges ahead of her as she devoted her present life to mediating between the daimons and her fellow human beings. But perhaps this life could also contain long pleasant intervals of near-normality, when she could pass her time among others of her kind and live as though she had never heard of daimons or the Circle.

Willowmere High was awash in Christmas—or rather, the "Winter Festival"; the taped music blaring from the PA system consisted mostly of songs like "Jingle Bells," "Winter Wonderland," and "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer," as if these had all been identified as suitably agnostic. Red and green paper chains and strings of blinking lights festooned the normally drab fluorescent-lit hallways, and some students had decorated their locker doors with bows, gift wrap, and Christmas cards. Megan Holmes, the head cheerleader, was running about with a Santa hat perched on her blond hair. "Everybody got their dance tickets?" she called out. "They're going fast! Katelyn, are you and Nick coming to the dance?" 

"Yeah, I'm coming," Katelyn replied in her characteristic bored, flat tone. "But not with Nick. I'm going with Ryan instead."

Mimi Taylor perked up at that. "So is it over between you and Nick, Katelyn?"

"I'm dumping him, yeah. He was in a snit last night for some reason, and today he won't answer my phone calls." Katelyn shrugged. "I don't need that."

She sauntered away while the other girls stared after her. "Don't get your hopes up, Mimi," Chel advised. "She's just punishing Nick, not dropping him. Otherwise she'd have stopped wearing her Circle clothes. She only got into the Circle because of Nick, and I doubt she'd give up on him yet."

Mimi sighed deeply. "Too bad. I was thinking I might make a move, with the dance coming up."

"I wouldn't try it if I were you. He's still her toy."

"What dance is this?" asked Claire.

"The Winter Dance," Mimi told her. "It's a fundraiser for the football team. It's this Saturday."