The Wyvern Street Irregulars

"One day this patch might spread into the next yard," he said, "if the long range plan of buying up the entire block ever happens."

Scott looked around. City lights reflecting from low cloud provided plenty of light to see the surroundings. "The entire block, eh?" He said. He smiled. "A Pagan village in the middle of town?"

"Maybe not the entire block," Marny admitted. "But Mary said that particular house will probably be up for sale in the next year or two. It could do with some fixing up. You're good at that kind of work, keep it in mind."

"It would be great if we did get the whole block somehow," said Scott. "But the general Pagan community doesn't seem to flock together the way we do. Filling an entire block with like-minded people seems a bit ambitious, frankly."

Marny sighed. "I know, I know. Maybe in a few generations."

"Well, we'll see how it goes," Scott replied. "People don't have to be Pagan to be good neighbors. Just this building alone can house a lot of people though. If you can fill this, maybe over the years some of the folk who rent here will choose to settle in the neighborhood." He trowelled earth over the last of the seeds and pulp. "It is nice having a garden. A few potted herbs on windowsills just isn't the same." He headed toward the balcony stairs. Marny followed, thoughtfully.

"All done?" Janet asked as they joined the women in the kitchen.

Scott kissed her. "All done," he said. He showed her the lantern.

Marny, too, had brought his lantern in. He showed it to Marie, received a kiss, took a deep sniff of the rich spicy smells of baking. He looked at the two new trolleys that had arrived that afternoon. "I see the coffee machine works," he said.

Mary waved her mug at him. "So does the expresso maker," she said. "The milk foamer too."

"Cappuccino, Scott?" Asked Marny. Scott nodded. Marny set to work, making one for himself too. Mary donned oven mitts, emptied the oven of cookie sheets and loaded it with cupcake trays. Janet rolled cookie dough. Marie typed at the laptop, telling Debbie that Marny and Scott were back from the garden.

"Did Susan and Robert get home yet?" Asked Marny.

Marie looked at him, nodded. "Yes, and they're going ahead with the legal stuff to buy the twenty acres," she told him. "They're putting aside seeds to plant a pumpkin patch of their own."

"Thats great," said Marny. He looked at Scott. "Its the land I showed you back in July."

Scott nodded. "The Covenstead plan is coming along nicely then. There'll be more than enough wood now. Are they going to get some cows and sheep too?"

Marny Looked at Marie. "I told him our plans," he explained.

Marie typed, waited for Debbie's reply. "Yes, thats their plan," she announced. She looked at Mary. "Susan has been working with raw wool for a few years now, thats part of why Marny and I thought we should get a few sheep. Now Susan will be able to get some herself instead." She turned back toward Marny. "By next weekend we'll be townies again for real. How does it feel?"

Marny raised his mug. "Cheers!" He said. "It feels challenging. Interesting." He turned to Scott. "We want to get the other seventy acres though. We won't be townies forever. We want you to help us figure out a five year plan. You and the Wizard. It'll have to wait until he's back in town. By the time the kids are old enough to live in town by themselves we want to buy that seventy acres."

Janet finished cutting cookies, brought her mug to the table, sat. "All done," she announced. "We don't want to be late to the meeting with Maurice."

Marie turned to Mary. "Maurice has a friend he wants us to meet. We'd like you to meet him too, since you're to be working with us now. If we're all comfortable with him he might join us." Anticipating a comment from Mary she raised a finger. "Not tonight, of course." She smiled. "Unless you like him a lot."

Mary shook her head. "No matter if I like him or not, I'd rather not circle with someone I only just met. Not skyclad, anyway."

"Marie is joking," said Marny. "Tonight's circle is just the five of us. We'd like you to be with us when we meet the chap though. That way he can meet all of us at once. He's a prospective tenant for the smallest apartment upstairs. A taxi driver."

Mary raised her eyebrows. "I should change and freshen up."

"We all will," Marie assured her. "We'll be meeting as Wyvern Street Coven, in the Wizard's west study. We'll proceed into the Wizard's Temple with Maurice and his guest, as Wyvern Street Circle. Before we go to the Wizard's apartment we'll all bathe and robe. In other words we'll be out of the broom closet. The guy knows he is meeting witches. Maurice vouches for him. He has practiced with witches before. Skyclad. But it won't be a Coven working, it will be a Wyvern Street Circle working. Then later we'll come back down here to do your Coven dedication."

Mary nodded thoughtfully. "I've gone to a few public circles," she said. "But this is a bit different. He's going to think I'm a trained witch or magician?"

"I doubt Maurice will let him get a false impression," Marny told her. "He knows we were going to ask you to be there."

"Actually he suggested it," said Marie. She looked at Marny. "Remember? We mentioned that Mary was joining us and he immediately said he had someone he wants us to meet." She smiled, looked at Mary. "You don't happen to know any of Maurice's taxi drivers, do you?"

Clearly, Mary did. Her face was a study in dawning awareness. "Oh!" She said. "Yes, it might be someone I already know. Someone even the kids know." She looked pleased. Looked around at all the smiling faces. "Stop it, you're getting my hopes up," she protested.

"All part of the job," said Janet. "There's nothing wrong with a little hope now and then. Especially at the turning of the year."

"The hand is faster than the eye," Scott grinned.

"In our tradition we are very big on women and men working together," Marie told her. "You know that. You hoped to find a man you could work with, didn't you?"

Mary tried to blush. "Well yes, but this is a bit fast!" She admitted.

"You don't know that yet," Marie reminded her. Then she smiled even more widely. "But you'll find out soon enough so don't worry about it." She peered into the oven. "You go ahead and bathe now. Cleanse yourself, put aside the cares and worries of the day, prepare yourself for ritual. Tonight is your dedication. I'll bring you a glass of sherry in a few minutes."

Mary headed for the bathroom. Marie looked around. Marny went to a cupboard, brought out three wineglasses and two bottles of sherry. He handed a bottle to Scott. "You've glasses?" He asked.

Scott nodded. "Yes. Sherry too."

"Take it anyway," Marny told him. "The Wizard left us a case of it." He poured a glass for Marie to take to Mary. "Do you know something about this meeting that we don't?" He asked.

Janet smiled. "Well, we've been living in town," she admitted. "We've maybe seen Maurice and Mary more often than you have. It might be someone we've met. We think it probably is."

Marny looked at Marie, nodded. "Sounds good," he said.

Marie smiled at him, shook her head at Janet and Scott. "You two are way ahead of us."

Scott saluted her with his mug. "All part of the job."

Janet checked the oven, donned mitts, brought out the cupcakes. Marie picked up the glass of sherry and headed for the bathroom.

"Icing can wait until tomorrow," said Janet. "We'll do it at Mary's, with the kids." She topped up her coffee, added a little cream. Scott smiled, passed her his cup. She topped it up, handed it back, looked at Marny. He smiled, shrugged, handed her his cup.

"Me too please," said Marie, returning from her errand. She looked at Scott. "We'll be charging candles for the jack-o-lanterns." At Janet. "We'll be making mooncakes too. You still have the recipe?"

Janet nodded. "We've been using the same recipe you gave us at our dedication," she said. "I have all the ingredients upstairs."

"Alright then," said Marie. "Do you have a pantacle?"

"Of course," said Janet.

"Bring it," Marie told her. "Also your athames, of course." She looked at Marny. "Maybe a cup too?" She asked.

Marny nodded. "Yes, bring your chalice. We'll bring ours too. Did you get dedication presents for Mary?"

Janet rummaged in the shoulderbag hung over the back of her chair, brought out a pretty cut-glass jar of natural salt and four packages of stick-incense. "Salt for Earth from me, incense for Air from Scott," she said.

"Good," said Marny. "We have candles for Fire from me, some of the ancestral blessed Water from Marie. The same lineage of Water that she gave you at your dedication." He looked at Marie. "They should prepare white candles too," he said. "For when the Wizard gets back."

Marie smiled, nodded. "Good idea." She looked at Scott, then at Janet, then back to Scott. "Remember we had you each bring a yellow candle to your dedication? This is similar, but has to do with Wyvern Street Circle."

"Yellow for Tiphareth, white for Kether?" Scott asked.

Marny smiled. "Maybe something like that," he admitted. "We'll be working in Wyvern Street Circle's Temple tonight. You can prepare white candles and save them. When the Wizard gets back you can be dedicated into Wyvern Street Circle, which is not the same as Wyvern Street Coven. The Wizard and Maurice will be moving Wyvern Street Circle's Eternal Flame to the new building; Wyvern Street Coven's Eternal Flame will be lit from Wyvern Street Circle's."

"We are going to be kind of a composite Coven," Janet said to Scott. "A Coven with a permanent Temple and an Eternal Flame. Wyvern Street Coven will be the core of South Wyvern Street Circle, whose outer name will be South Circle."

Scott raised his eyebrows. "Obviously you girls have been talking while we were out planting seeds," he said.

Marie nodded. "South for Fire, of course," she said. "Do either of you have a Zippo?"

Scott frowned. "A Zippo?" He asked. He looked at Janet.

Janet shrugged. "Neither of us smoke."

Marny fished in his hip pocket, brought out a Zippo with a brushed-chrome finish. "Its a liquid-fuel tinderbox, the fuel is Spirits of Earth," he said. "Spirits of Earth being the alchemical name for naptha. Its unconditionally guaranteed for life."

"Ah!" Said Scott, catching on. He unclipped the sheath at his belt, brought out a knife. "Buck knife," he said. "Unconditionally guaranteed for life." He smiled.

Marny nodded. "From Maurice?" He asked.

Scott smiled. "Exactly. How did you guess?"

Marny patted his own sheath. "I've a Buck too," he said. "Didn't you notice?"

"Of course," Scott replied. "I wasn't sure it was from Maurice though. You're Unarmed Forces?"

"I don't know," Marny admitted. "I'm not sure what they mean by Unarmed Forces. They mentioned it the other night but didn't tell us much about it."

Janet spoke up. "After our dedication at the Covenstead we looked around for people to work with in the City," she explained. "Maurice kind of took us under his wing."

Scott looked thoughtful. "We should do some research into things that have unconditional warranties for life," he said. "Maybe we can find such suppliers for pantacles and cups too."

Marny shook his head, tilted it, looked at Scott. "Hmm, interesting idea. We should put some thought into it for sure. Maurice will tell you more about the Zippos and the Eternal Flames later, in the Temple."

Marie checked the oven, turned it off. "Maybe you should say soon instead of later," she said, donning mitts to empty the oven. "Baking is over, time to get ready for the meeting."

Janet and Scott gathered their things and left. Mary entered, wearing a luxurious white hooded bathrobe, carrying an empty wineglass. Marny smiled at her, poured sherry for himself and Marie, gestured at Mary with the bottle. Mary nodded. He poured. They clinked glasses, sipped.

"Me next for the bath," Marie said, and left.

Marny got up, went to a counter, took two boxes of candles from a drawer. "Orange and yellow candles for the lanterns," he said. "Did you bring a yellow candle?"

Mary nodded. "Yes, its in the livingroom," she said.

"Good," he replied. He went back to the drawer, brought out a white candle, gave it to her. "Bring this with you to the Temple. This one is to do with Wyvern Street Circle, the yellow one relates to Wyvern Street Coven." He looked at her expression. "Yeah, I know, it probably seems a bit complicated. A lot of things are intersecting. But if you're to be in Wyvern Street Coven you should also be part of Wyvern Street Circle." He smiled. "The guest Maurice is bringing is already part of Wyvern Street Circle. Janet and Scott, and, we hope, you too, will prepare white candles tonight in the Temple, then when the Wizard gets back you can all be dedicated into Wyvern Street Circle if you decide that you want to." He went to a cupboard, brought out a cookie tin. "Moon cakes," he said. "Wyvern Street Coven's contribution to Wyvern Street Circle's meeting tonight." He smiled. "Come now, you've been a friend of the Wizard for years, theres no need to be confused. Wyvern Street Circle is the Wizard's circle. Wyvern Street Coven is you, me, Marie, Janet and Scott. The Coven is Wiccan, the Wizard's circle is eclectic. Christians, Pagans, Moslems, Jews, whatever. The Wizard is a mystic of the 'all true gods are one true God so all true faiths are one' school."

Mary smiled. "Wicca is enough for me to try to learn so far I think," she said. "Marie gave me a copy of Ellen Cannon Reed's 'The Witches Qaballa' though, and of course 'What Witches Do' also had a bit about the Tree of Life in it. Starhawk never seems to mention the Tree of Life though."

Marny smiled. "The Tree of Life is like the Rosetta Stone," he said. "You've probably heard that before, but thats because Western Mystery Tradition uses it that way. Its the ultimate toy of eclectics and syncretics, an attempt to figure out and correlate common symbolisms linking multiple systems."

Mary gave a wan little smile. "I know. Give me time."

Marny grinned broadly. "Don't mind me. I've been doing this stuff since I was a kid. I encountered the Tree of Life in David Conway's 'Magic: an occult primer' even before I started hanging out with Wiccans. But you need to dry your hair and I need to get ready. I'll get you a hairdryer." He left for a minute or so, returned with a small cordless hairdryer. "Here you go, he said. "Marie will be out soon." He left again.

Mary relaxed, sipped her sherry, started drying her hair. She had barely gotten the tangles out of it when Marie entered.

"Oh good, you found the hairdryer," said Marie.

"Marny got it for me," Mary told her. "Good thing too. I didn't want to go to the meeting with wet hair. It must be soon now isn't it?"

Marie checked the laptop. "Twenty-five minutes," she said. "Plenty of time. Marny will be done in ten. I've set out a black robe and a white cord for you in the guest bedroom. As soon as you're done with the hairdryer go get robed. You can wear a little light makeup if you feel you absolutely have to, but symbolically it would be better if you didn't. We don't hide ourselves from the Divine. Not that makeup could really hide us from it, but, you know, its symbolic. Relax until we come for you."

Mary nodded, turned off the dryer, handed it to Marie, picked up her wineglass and white candle and left.

Marie smiled, picked up the dryer, began to comb out her tangles with its comb attachment. Ten minutes for Scott to get ready, another five to migrate into the rear apartment, another ten or so before Maurice would arrive. She smiled smugly. Everything was sailing along nicely. She sat down by the laptop, checked the instant messenger. Debbie's chat window was still open so she typed 'off to ritual shortly, client will still accept messages though' then checked her email. Nothing looked urgent. She fired up the screensaver. Relax, she thought. Its All Hallow's Eve Eve and we have a new Coven already. We've a four bedroom apartment free of charge, if Maurice's friend takes the small apartment upstairs the taxes and utilities will almost be covered, and some of those emails might be more potential tenants. Its going to be a great new year. Got to remember to feed the cats. Not a problem, they're in the Wizard's apartment, they'll remind us when we get there. What else? She ran through a mental checklist. Mooncakes. Pantacle. Janet and Scott to bring their Pantacle and the stuff for making mooncakes. Plus a white candle each. Marie has a white candle too. Anything else we need? She turned as Marny entered, saw that he had brought their Pantacle. She smiled at him, leaned up to meet an incoming kiss. "Mmmm. Okay, I'm off to get robed." She rose, they hugged briefly, and she headed for their bedroom, still drying her hair.

Marny set the cookie tin, the Pantacle and the bottle of sherry on the dessert trolley, thought it looked a bit bare so added a plate of cookies. Took a roll call in his head, added a plate of seven cupcakes. Paused a moment, then added an eighth cupcake. Oh what the heck. He fetched a tin, stashed the eighth cupcake in it, added six more, closed the tin and set it on the trolley. Started a new pot of coffee on the coffee trolley. Sat down and started drying his hair.

Marie returned, wearing a black robe bound with a red cord from which her athame hung, sheathed. Marny rose, kissed her, headed off to don his own matching outfit. Marie checked the trolleys, noticed the extra tin, looked inside, smiled. Good thinking, she thought. She checked the cream jug, fetched a carton from the fridge and topped it up. Looked for the bottle of Irish whiskey they'd bought for Maurice. Oops, it wasn't in either of the trolleys. She fetched it from a cupboard. Reminded herself that they needed to pump Maurice about his wife to find out what would be a good gift for her. We need something for the new chap too, she thought. A sage bundle will do as a little hello gift today, but come up with something decent by the time the Wizard returns. She fetched a box of sage bundles from a cupboard, put it inside the dessert trolley. Noticed the boxes of candles on the table, put them inside the dessert trolley too. Fetched a bag of assorted essential oils from a cupboard, put them, too, inside the dessert trolley.

"Good thinking," said Marny, back already. "I'd forgotten about the oils. We should take inventory of the Temple, give Scott a list of what to keep it stocked with. Are we ready?"

Marie nodded. "You take the coffee trolley, I'll get Mary," she told him, and headed for the guest bedroom.

The trolley rolled smoothly, though he almost forgot to unplug it. The door to the Wizard's apartment was already unlocked, which was just as well since he had not thought to bring the key. As he closed the door behind him Scott came to meet him.

"The cats are fed," said Scott, "and I checked the supplies in the Temple. I've made a list of things I figured you'll want me to keep in stock. Janet should be down in a few minutes. I brought a bottle of Irish to give to Maurice."

"Ha!" Said Marny. "We did too. Kind of the obvious thing, I guess. Did you light the fire?"

"In the south fireplace, yes," Scott replied. They were just entering the west study when they heard Marie and Mary entering the apartment. Scott turned back into the hallway to escort them, Marny continued into the study with the coffee trolley, plugged it in. Marie entered with the dessert trolley, followed by Mary.

Mary looked around the room. "Its been a while since I was in here," she said. "Hasn't changed though." She looked at the bookshelves, smiled. "Still full of books."

"Most of those will be going to the Wizard's new place," said Marie. "Though we'll be wanting to duplicate a lot of it. We've a bunch of books we can bring in to start making up the losses but we'll need to set up a library budget soon."

Janet and Scott arrived. Mary looked around at everyone. All were in block robes, but only Marie and Marny had red cords. Mary, Scott and Janet had white cords.

Marie, watching where Mary's eyes went, guessed her question. "In some traditions, red cords are for Initiates," she explained. "White for dedicants and seekers and so on, the so called uninitiated. In our tradition we use white for first degree, red for Second Degree, blue for Third. Some use a braided cord of three colours for Third. Its probably not a big deal, except that once you're First Degree in our tradition you should probably wear a red cord with black robe when working with the local Gardnerians. You'll be entitled to then because you'll be Initiates. They just use red and white, they don't distinguish between Initiates, First Second or Third they all wear red. Uh, as far as I know, that is. I don't actually know any Gardnerian Thirds around here. Their First and Second degrees both use red though."

"I turned on the doorbell just in case," said Scott. "But I unlocked the back door figuring Maurice would let himself in as long as it wasn't locked."

"That sounds right," said Marny. "Mary, have you ever seen the Temple?"

Mary shook her head. "No. I've only gotten this far a couple of times. Once when the Wizard asked me to look over his book collection to see what might catch my interest. Another time when the Wizard was away for a few days and had me feed the cats. Morgana wanted in, and I thought maybe Merlin was trapped in here as I could not find him. Turned out he was in the garden though, and Morgana just wanted a toy she'd left in here."

The door opened again. Maurice and a slightly shorter, slightly younger man entered. Maurice wore a red robe with a black cord. The other man's robe was yellow, his cord red.

"Brian!" Mary exclaimed. "I was hoping it would be you."

The man in yellow bowed. "I am glad to hear you say so," he replied. He looked them over as they chose seats around the fire. "You're Gardnerian?" He asked. Mary looked unsure.

Marie answered for her. "Eclectic Alexandrian, but we use black robes to blend in with the local Gardnerians," she said. "When we work with the Gardnerians we use their cord colours, but in our own tradition we use white for dedicants and First Degree, red for Second Degree, blue for Third Degree. Right now though we're dressed the way we would be if we were working with the Gardnerians. We weren't sure what tradition you were."

"We still aren't," said Marny. "You're using Queen Scale colours?"

Maurice nodded. "My red and black represent Geburah and Binah, Brian's Yellow and Red represent Tiphareth and Geburah," he explained. "It relates to pathworking, the paths we're working on. I am working on the Chariot, as you know. Brian is working on Justice.

Mary smiled. "I guess in that system I'd be wearing a russet, olive, citrine or black robe with a purple cord." She looked at Marie. "Or something like that?"

Maurice smiled. "Something like that," he said. "Though the black in Malkuth is shiny. Your flat black more likely represents Binah. In our system if you were in Malkuth working on the path to Yesod the robe would be citrine, the cord purple. Its kind of nitpicky though and subject to change from ritual to ritual. If the Wizard were here Brian's cord would probably be blue. As he came with me though, it is red. Basically Brian represents Tiphareth, I represent Geburah and the Wizard represents Chesed. All this kind of detail work of equilibrating our symbologies and such is something we'll work on over time. When we worked here the other day we didn't use robes at all, just our civvies."

Mary smiled. "So what tradition are you, is it okay to ask?"

Maurice smiled impishly. "We're making it up as we go along," he said. "But usually using the Tree of Life as a kind of Rosetta-stone to correlate the symbolism."

Brian patted a black drawstring bag decorated with golden-yellow stars and moons. "I brought a Chalice and an Altarcloth, my Buck knife and my Zippo," he said. "Also a yellow candle." He looked at Mary and smiled. "Also a few little gifts." He turned to Marie. "Now, or in circle?" He asked.

"Introduction gifts?" Marie mused. She looked at Maurice, made a gesture with her right hand. "Wards..." Maurice matched her gesture. Marny closed his eyes. "Up!" She said as she and Maurice both closed their hands. Maurice nodded. They waited until Marny's eyes opened. "Here will do," she told Brian. "But let us go first." She smiled, looked at Marny, directed him to a trolley with her eyes.

Marny went to the indicated trolley, brought out the bottle of Irish whiskey, looked at Marie. Her eyes directed him to the box of sage bundles. He smiled. Aha. Of course. He opened the box, brought out bundles.

We got you some Irish, Maurice," said Marie. She turned to Brian. "We didn't know who Maurice was bringing so I figured sage for a start then by the time we meet again we'd have a better idea what to give, having at least met you." She looked at Marny again. "So sage bundles all around," she said.

Marny gave the whisky to Maurice then handed out sage bundles to everyone.

Brian opened his drawstring bag, brought out five half-litre winebottles full of yellow liquid. "Freya Wine," he said. "I've saved these since the last time I know of that Freya Wine was served at the Avalon East Pagan Gathering. Its been a few years." He smiled. "I'm hoping it might soon be time to make Freya Wine again." He looked at Maurice. "If the Wizard approves, of course."

"Wow!" Marny exclaimed, reaching for it eagerly. "We have one bottle of this in the cellar at the old Covenstead. Probably from the same year's A.E.P.G."

Marie smiled. "We've been saving it. It hasn't been made in years."

Brian looked around. "Can I speak frankly?" he asked.

Marie smiled. "Please do."

"Remember the year they put out the Eternal Flame?" He looked at Maurice, back to Marie. "Maurice never went back after that incident. It seemed to mark a turning point, a lot of people started getting bad vibes about the Gathering after that. It might not seem as horrific as the slaughter of the wasps because it was only a fire that was killed, not a nest of organic creatures. But there is a conflict between Eternal Flame traditions and a Celtic tradition in which all the fires in the realm are put out and all re-lit from one source. Maybe part of the problem is confusion between fire and light? I don't know. I almost didn't go back myself after that."

"The Lightbringer and the Light?" Maurice suggested, quirking an eyebrow at Marie and Marny.

Marie and Marny exchanged looks. "We remember the incident," said Marie. "We were very disappointed that Maurice was treated so cavalierly. Few people seemed to care. There wasn't anything quite so nasty the next year but it was disappointing. Even the Wizard stopped going to them eventually."

"I don't know what Pagan means anymore," said Brian. "I mean, we use the Tree of Life, it can be argued that we're Jewish or Christian mystics, or even some kind of Sufi. So maybe I'm not Pagan at all. But Maurice said the folk who did that weren't Wiccan, and that not all Pagans are like them. He said I should meet you. Maybe you're Pagans I can get along with." He looked around, waved at the bookshelves. "I liked 'What Witches Do' and 'The Witches Bible Complete'. I've read 'The Witches Qaballa' too. Maurice said you've all read that one."

"We've all read all three," said Janet. "We're not afraid of the Light. It doesn't sound as if you're talking about people from the Wiccan Church of Canada, either."

"You're right," said Maurice. "Lets just say it was someone who didn't get enough sensitivity training. Hopefully they've remedied that since."

Marie looked at Mary. "Witchwars. Great." She looked at Maurice. "I know you're not into Witchwars. You simply walked away. Right in the middle of the weekend. Never came back. Moving into town isn't putting us in the middle of one is it?"

Maurice shrugged. "Thats part of why Wyvern Street is secret. If they don't know when we celebrate they won't know when to schedule events to clash with ours. Most times they don't hit the actual day, they work around the nine-to-five, monday-to-friday schedule of the business world. If they don't know we exist they can't make war on us. In principle we can simply stop coming back to this universe, leave it to them, make new ones. In theory we choose to incarnate here, but there is always karma when you try to change someone else's state of consciousness."

Marny rose, picked up a shallow bowl of sand from the mantel, and brought his sage bundle over to Brian. "I didn't bring my Zippo," he said. "Can you spare a light?" He smiled.

Brian rose, bowed. "Honoured," he said. He sprang open his lighter with a clever one-handed move that made Mary smile. She remembered it from when he'd lit her father's cigar last Christmas. He grinned at her, gave a little nod. She grinned back.

Marny moved the sage in the flame until it was well lit, then waved it to glowing embers. Smoke billowed. Holding the bundle stationary in his right hand he waved the smoke around himself with his cupped left hand. Over his head, behind and around his shoulders, down his body. Smudging. Banishing negativity.

Brian set his lighter on the arm of his chair, used both hands to cup the smoke and smudge himself with it, nodded, sat down.

Marny passed from person to person until they all were smudged, then doused the glowing end of the bundle in the sand and returned the bowl to the mantel. "Thats better," he said. "Peaceful are the Blessmakers." He smiled, sat down, looked to Marie.

Marie smiled, nodded. "And their boots are yellow," she said, smiling, and looked around. Everyone smiled. Good. Harmony. She passed her bottle of Freya Wine to Scott. "Wine will now be served," she announced.

Janet and Scott rose, did the honours. Soon all were seated again, each with glass in hand. They lifted their glasses in toast.

"Lets pick up the thread of the Eternal Flame," said Marie. She looked at Janet and Scott. "Maurice was going to tell you this in circle, and I'll let him tell the tale soon, in the Temple." She looked at Maurice, received a nod, and continued. "The Wizard has a work in progress in the Temple that has been in progress for years now. There are two Zippos in the altar. One of them is the one that lit the fire at the first A.E.P.G." She looked at Maurice. "Maybe it also lit the fire the year that the fire was put out. It was used to light the fire at a few of the Gatherings." She nodded to Brian. "So don't worry about the Eternal Flame." She smiled. "The Flame and the Freya Wine meet again." She drank her wine. All of it. The others followed suit.

"The same lighter lit the lamp in the Temple," said Maurice. "Some of the same Spirits of Earth were in your lighter when the Wizard gave it to you," he told Brian. He turned to Marny. "Yours too." He patted a small bag hanging beside his knife. "And mine." He smiled, looked at Scott. "Some is still in the Altar."

Scott smiled, turned to share the smile with Janet, patted his knife. They saw the pattern: just like he was giving an air gift to Mary and Marny was giving a fire gift, Maurice had given him an air gift, the knife; and a fire gift, a lighter, was coming into view on the horizon of his future.

"Earth Religions Coalition South," said Maurice. Mary quirked an eyebrow queryingly at him. He smiled at her. "There was an Earth Religions Coalition East a few years ago," he explained. "It went underground, or, as some say, it dissolved. It passed its assets to the Maritime Pagan Gathering Festival Association, the organisation that runs the Avalon East Pagan Gathering."

"The black line and the red line?" Asked Marie.

Maurice looked at her, shrugged slightly with a bit of a quirky smile, made a "Who knows?" gesture with his hands, waved his head a little from side to side. "Maybe," he said. "Lets think on that later. It hadn't occurred to me. Here's another thing to think about too. In July 2002, Zippo Canada at Niagara Falls stopped making lighters. They're only made in the U.S. now. The two in the altar were both made at Niagara Falls."

"So was mine," said Brian. "I didn't know they'd stopped making them in Canada. 2002, eh? Hmmm. He looked thoughtful.

Marie looked at Mary. "So what do you think?" She asked. "Do you think you can circle with these two hunks?" She smiled.

Mary smiled at said hunks, gave each of them a nod. "I think so," she said. She gave an extra smile to Brian.

"Alright then," said Marie. "It is Wyvern Street Circle's Temple, Maurice will be acting Master of the Temple." She looked at Maurice. "Brian, Marny and I are practicing Adepts?" She asked.

Maurice quirked a smile, nodded. "Sure, whatever." He chuckled. "The rest of you are guests. You won't need to call any quarters or anything. Leave that to the Adepts." He chuckled again, gestured toward the door east of the fireplace. Brian led the way. Somehow Mary ended up right behind him, followed by Scott and Janet, Marny and Marie. Maurice entered the Temple last, closed the door. "Always check the fire and smoke alarms," he said. "Because of the sanctuary lamp, the Eternal Flame, the alarms must always be on when the Temple is unattended. But if you might burn incense its best not to have the smoke alarm on and if you're going to have much open flame turn the fire alarm off too."

The Temple looked much the same as ever, save that the Altar was in the centre of the circle. They were standing near the northeast corner of the room. Mary smiled as she looked around. The setup was so simple and obvious, so classic, that she shook her head in wonder. A textbook Temple.

Maurice looked at the position of the Altar, looked at Marie. She shrugged. He smiled, nodded, directed Brian to the East, Marny to the South, Marie to the West. They didn't walk directly to their places though; they each entered through the north-east then walked deosil - clockwise - around the circle to their station. "We enter from the North-East," said Maurice. "Guests wait outside until called. You won't be challenged, simply invited. Basically we'll cast the Circle then open a doorway in the North-East to let you in." He stepped onto the circular carpet that marked the boundary of the circle, walked around to the North, nodded to Brian.

Brian bowed to the Altar. The others within the circle followed suit. They approached the Altar, close enough to be able to join hands around it, but did not join hands yet. "One Mind," said Brian. They closed their eyes.

"One Will," said Marny. They nodded.

"One Sense," said Marie. They opened their eyes.

"One Body," said Maurice. They joined hands.

"Above us the Heavens," Brian declared.

"Below us the Kingdom," said Maurice.

Maurice gestured toward Marie. They all smiled, turned to face the West. Slowly at first as they got their timing, but with growing confidence as they proceeded, they all spoke together. "Before us Gabriel." Pause. "Behind us Raphael." Pause. "At our right hand Uriel." Pause. "At our left hand Michael." Pause. "Above us the Light." Pause. "At our feet the Universe." Pause.

Maurice looked at the 'guests' waiting North-East of the Circle. "And crawling on the planet's face..." he said. Scott and Janet smiled, catching the reference, and nodded at Maurice. Mary looked a little puzzled. Maurice smiled at her. "I'm guessing theres a movie they haven't shown you yet," he said. "Come on in, stand by Brian in the East. I know that didn't look like much but this is a permanent Temple plus we didn't want to overawe you with our full set of invocations. Just tell yourselves that we are accomplished Adepts and much more was done, and is being done, than was spoken aloud."

Janet and Scott entered, stood beside Brian.

Mary hung back, but nodded. "I feel it," she said. "It would've been scary if you'd invoked the Dread Lords of the Watchtowers or something like that. You aren't going to, are you? We're not in danger or anything are we?"

Marie smiled at her. "If we are, the Archangels can handle it. No need for Dread Lords. Not until the next Desert Storm or Nine Eleven or World War Three, anyway. Come on in." She smiled thankfully at Maurice. The full invocation they'd used last time they'd worked in this Temple together obviously would've overawed Mary. But of course that had been an Adepts-only working. "This was very low-key. This is just an introductory meeting, not even a dedication. But still..." She paused, grinned a quirky grin. "'Twould be better by far to throw yourself out yon door than to enter with fear in your heart." She grinned a laughing-at-herself grin. "Its up to you."

Marny gestured toward Marie and the West. "Come on in, the water's fine." He smiled.

Mary smiled back at him, glanced at Brian. "Its not the water I'm worried about," she said, and grinned, still at Brian. "I feel like I'm walking on air."

"Oh yeah baby, walk on me," Brian japed. "Come on, move it, move it, we don't got all night, taxis don't wait forever y'know." He raised an eyebrow. "Unless you pay them to, of course," he speculated.

Marie looked at him, shook her head, and entered. "Okay, okay, I'm not in Kansas anymore. Lets get this show on the road."

Brian nodded at her slowly and seriously. Then he looked at Maurice. "All's aboard as is coming aboard," he said.

Maurice nodded, thoughtful. Looked around at everyone. Stepped forward to the Altar. "Where are we?" He asked. He lifted the Pantacle from the Altar, answered himself. "We are here." He held the Pantacle on his palms. "Where is here? Here is Wyvern Street Circle." He traced the outer circle of the Pantacle with his right forefinger. "Where is Wyvern Street Circle?" He placed the Pantacle back on the Altar, centrally placed. "Wyvern Street Circle is the Centre." He stepped back to his position in the North, turned facing Marny across the circle. "Where is South Wyvern Street?" He asked, raising an eyebrow toward Marny.

Marny smiled, the phrase 'South of the New' echoing in his memory. He realised why Maurice had subtly made sure that he rather than Marie had carried their Pantacle into the Temple. He lifted it. "South Wyvern Street is here," he said. He couldn't resist. "South of the New," he added with a smile.

"Where is here?" Maurice asked. His eyes tracked an imaginary movement of the Pantacle to the Altar.

Marny approached the Altar. "Here is the Centre," he said. He looked at Maurice, who nodded slightly indicating a downward movement. Marny lowered the Pantacle, more confidently as Maurice's confirming smile grew, onto the Pantacle already there. Maurice nodded. Marny moved back to his place in the South.

Scott and Janet smiled at each other, but also looked a little unsure. They'd brought their Pantacle, too. Maurice caught Janet's eye, made a slight negatory shake of his head, and told her "candles."

Protocol fell into place. Marie and Marny were with Wyvern Street Circle at this monent, not with Wyvern Street Coven. That left Janet as acting High Priestess, or at least Maiden, of the small group of 'guests'.

Janet smiled, turned to Mary. "I guess we're up in the air right now." She smiled at Brian, held her Pantacle out to him invitingly. "Right?" She asked him.

Brian's eyes flicked across Maurice's face just long enough to register no demurrer, then he nodded to Janet and accepted the burden with a smile.

Janet made sure her group had their white candles and led them toward the Altar, watching Maurice carefully.

"Just place them directly on the Altar for now," said Maurice. "On the East side."

They nodded, complied, and returned to the East.

Maurice approached the Altar, gripped it with both hands, nodded to Brian, said "Where is South Wyvern Street?"

Brian smiled, gave Janet her Pantacle back, stepped forward and held Marie and Marny's Pantacle in place. "South Wyvern Street is in the Centre," he said.

Maurice began to pull the Altar out from under it. "Where is Wyvern Street?" He asked. He pulled the Altar to the North. "Wyvern Street is in the North," he said. He grinned at Marny. "North of the Old."

Brian lowered Marie and Marny's Pantacle to the carpet, moved back a little.

Maurice came out from behind the Altar, sat down crosslegged with his back toward the Altar but not leaning against it, and gestured to the others to sit. He looked around. Janet and Scott sat toward the East, Brian and Mary the North-East, Marny the South, Marie the West. He looked at Brian. "You might as well place your yellow candle on the Altar too," he said. "Then we can start dickering about who and what goes where with who."

Brian rummaged in his drawstring bag, brought out his candle, rose, approached the Altar, placed his candle beside the three white ones, returned to his place between Maurice and Mary. But closer to Mary, no-one failed to notice.

Maurice watched as everyone's awareness grew that Janet and Scott were now in the East, Mary and Brian in the North-East. Eventually everyone was looking at Mary and Brian.

Brian smiled. "Yes, I am in the North-East, and I manoevered Mary into the North-East too," he said. He looked at Maurice. "I guess these Wiccan types aren't totally blind, eh?" He smiled at everyone. "Maurice planned it this way."

Eyes shifted to Maurice, who merely shrugged and sat, aware and alert but, seemingly, with no particular urge to say anything.

Janet and Scott both smiled, relaxed, settled into a peaceful, open awareness that Marie and Marny recognised from somewhere.

Marie's eyes narrowed as she tried to work out what was going on.

The silence stretched.

Marny started to look toward Marie, realised that his slightest move captured attention. Mokka, he thought. Cafe Mokka. Attention, Intent and Concentration. With awareness as the intent. Mary of course, watching a shop all day, could keep up that kind of awareness all day. He remembered trips to the Double Deuce with the Wizard back in the Mokka era, how the Wizard had seemed to watch the entire place, ever ready to catch the eye of anyone who looked his way, so ready that it could almost give everyone in the entire place the idea that they were being stared at. The slightest movement catches the eye, so by the time someone has turned to see if you're looking at them of course you are, their movement attracted your eyes. He remembered times when he had sensed the machinery of attention as if it was interlocked, any movement of anyone's attention sensed by others, a group attention growing. One mind. Duh. They'd said as much. One mind, one will, one sense, one body. He relaxed, sensed how that helped Marie to relax. Duh, duh, duh. He felt stupid. He remembered a taxi driver at the Double Deuce who had compulsively started talking any time quietude started to descend. Remembered the Wizard saying "you don't need to entertain us, its okay just to be, just be here, in the moment, in peace and harmony". He became aware of his breath. He let his eyes traverse slightly, gently so as not to jar everyone's attention. Gradually he figured out that everyone seemed to be kind of watching their own attention, or was that everyone's attention, floating somewhere in the air in the middle of the circle. He became aware of his breath again.

Actually they were all aware of their breath. It wasn't so much that they were all reverting to some old lessons they'd had, or books they'd read, about Zen meditation. It seemed more like this might be the kind of thing that had led the old Zen masters to come up with their methods. Mary smiled. They all seemed to know that she did. Smiles spread until they were all smiling. They looked slowly around like a bunch of grinning buddhas.

Marie sighed, looked at Scott beaming at her across the circle. "Okay," she said. "Explain the difference between Unarmed Forces and Library Lawn Circle."

Scott smiled some more, shrugged. Quietude descended again.

Marie thought back to the Old Mokka, the New Mokka. She remembered the Wizard telling her about the day they built the bar at the New Mokka. The Wizard and three others sitting near a wall, quietly discussing which of them was which element and why and starting to try to get their compass bearings when suddenly the owner told them it was time to move, time to build a bar right on that spot. Spirit built right on top of the four elements. Literal Spirits, bar shots and such. Was Spirit the difference between the New Mokka and the Old Mokka? She remembered that she had reason to believe that the Old Mokka had involved working with Yesod. She also remembered that she couldn't reveal what her reason was for believing that. She considered it oathbound. She thought about that. Wasn't that alone a dead giveaway? If she was Wiccan, wouldn't anything she considered oathbound pretty much tend to implicate Wiccans? Okay then, admit it. She knew Wiccans had been meeting there. Heck, she was Wiccan and she met other Wiccans there from time to time. She felt annoyed suddenly at all the secrecy. Attention, Intent and Concentration. Is that the Sword? The Air? Yesod? She remembered Chess at the Old Mokka, and how the Wizard had brought in Go to contrast the mindsets involved in the two games. Until competetiveness instead of cooperativeness had taken over even the Go and they had had to get rid of it. Yes, the Old Mokka had been working on Swords. Library Lawn Circle might've been Cups. Think Hod, no problem relating that to libraries. But Library Lawn Circle wasn't words, was it? It was so nearly wordless so much of the time. So why Hod? Why the library? Aha! Silent words. Written words, symbols, visuals. Not noise, sound, speech, barks, growls, woofs, yells, music, whatever. Yes. Watching the grass. Watching the flagpoles materialise. Watching Winnie land, huge heavy statue of bronze. Silent eloquence. Watching the attention itself. Hey, I'm aware of my breath again. Whose attention is it, really, that one watches when one watches 'the attention'? She watched 'the' attention. They all watched 'the' attention. Okay, so we're all watching 'the' attention. So far so good. Is it concentrated? Does it have intent?

"Agenda," said Maurice. "Attention, Agenda, Concentration. Do Library Lawn folk have agenda? Do Unarmed Forces folk have agenda? Is there a difference between Agenda and Intent?"

There it is again, thought Marie. Stillness versus movement, silence versus sound, written symbols versus speech or action, timebinding versus the open moment open to any moment at all that might choose to be the next moment. Even if we had an agenda would we have the actual living intent to carry it out, to follow it, to stick to it? The Watching Self. Starhawk mentions the Talking Self but not the Watching Self. Is reading patterns in sound the same as reading patterns in visuals? Is pattern Hod?

Mary was thinking about Quakers. Somewhere she had read about a kind of meeting or practice used by Quakers. Supposedly you just lapse into silence, no-one says anything unless something inside them drives them to do so. Like an earthquake, something deep within them. Hence the name Quakers. Would that something be agenda or intent? Would that be earthquake in the Norse conception where Loki is the cause? Somehow she doubted that the Quakers would consider Loki a desirable cause. But maybe Loki had been maligned. Prometheus wasn't the only Lightbringer who had been maligned, maybe Loki was a Lightbringer? Heck, Mercury was the God of Thieves as well as the Messenger of the Gods and, of course, also the Psychopomp, the guide of the Souls of the Dead. Maybe all of them, and even Jesus in his Psychopomp mode and his befriending of the thief on the Cross, were all Mercurial?

Brian smiled, glad that he had not suggested a Talking Stick. It had occurred to him to do so, but he had rejected the idea precisely because of agenda. Maybe this experience might help make it easier to articulate something about the use of a Talking Stick. He had been concerned that if he suggested a Talking Stick an agenda of talking might have been implied. He recalled Maurice's mention of dickering about who and what and where. He smiled, realising that was part of why he had held back from suggesting a Talking Stick. Maurice had already created an implied agenda. Another smile: maybe dickering needn't be the same as talking?

Marny was still musing on Zen. It is like a Zen garden, he thought. Asking the stones for permission to move them. No, wait, that is agenda. Better would be to wonder whether they want to move at all, and question why you would want to move them if they themselves had not wanted to move. He smiled. Changing other people's state of consciousness. Maurice had said there is always karma when you do that. Heck, that was straight out of Phill and Diane Dunn's Spiritual Warrior's Handbook, 'Echoes of the Melody'. Spiritual Warriors, eh? Is that what they mean by Unarmed Forces? At least some of the Library Lawn people he'd known had worked with that stuff. The Wizard had given copies of the handbook to a number of people. That was in the early days of Little Mysteries, during the Old Mokka era. When did the Three of Flagpoles appear? When did the statue of Winston Churchill appear? Blood, sweat and tears. We shall fight them on the beaches. What are the kinds of situations up with which we will not put? What are the parts of the Spiritual Warrior's Handbook that Shambhala warriors might have problems with or objections to? Even some of the youngsters in Library Lawn Circle knew Shambhala. A lot of people took meditation lessons at the Shambhala Centre. He remembered the self-admitted Magus he'd met at the Old Mokka. Supposedly a friend, or at least an aquaintance, of the Wiccan Church of Canada. He'd mentioned listening to the background music. Like in movies and television shows where the background music is part of the show, conveying or at least trying to convey something about the scene. Was he really a Magus? Surely a lot of people could dismiss the chap as just another flawed human being? What would people think of the idea of Magus if that chap was pointed to as an exemplar? Of course part of the beauty of Dancing to the Melody was the way it faded off into vagueness at the higher levels, the way it was designed to appeal to the vice of Sloth associated with Yesod. Come to think of it, that same supposed Magus had also said very few people even achieve Yesod. Maybe he would agree that for all anyone knows he was actually at Yesod and merely working with a Yesodic conception or imagination of the idea of the ninth degree, the second Sephira. Even a Magister Templi is supposedly beyond ego, surely a Magus ought to be egoless enough to entertain such a hypothesis? He tried to recall all of his interactions with the chap. Not glaringly devoid of ego in some spooky way. Not some kind of obvious guru or anything like that. But nothing Marny could point at and say aha, see, the chap is egotistical, so there, ha ha ha.

Marny looked at Maurice and smiled, wondering whether Maurice was a Magister Templi, a Master of the Temple. He remembered the comment the supposed Magus had made about Dancing to the Melody: maybe it is as simple as 1+2=3?

Maurice smiled back at him, raised an eyebrow.

Marie looked at Marny, wondering what Maurice was asking him and why.

Marny shook his head slightly, his smile quirking a bit. Nothing to say but everyone looking at him.

"Okay," said Maurice. "We are here. In the moment. In the circle. In the Temple. The Heavens above, the Universe below." He looked at Mary and decided to elaborate. "Lets remember that some folk call the 21st Trump 'The Universe' instead of 'The World.'". She smiled. He looked around, saw no sign that anyone was having an 'Aha!' moment. He quirked a smile at Marny. "Lets inquire into Wiccan terminology a little, shall we?" He looked at Marie, raising an eyebrow. She nodded. He looked at Marny again and asked "How does what just happened compare to what Wiccans refer to as Drawing Down the Moon?"

Marny's face went through a kind of bad-taste-in-the-mouth grimace, as if to say 'oh great, ask me an easy one, thanks a lot'. His eyed narrowed in thought.

Maurice smiled wryly. "Feel free to compare or contrast it with or to Drawing Down the Sun."

Marny gave a negatory shake of his head. "No, not the Sun," he said. "The Sun is brighter, or more brilliantly conscious, or some such thing." He frowned in thought, cocking his head a little to his left. "The Moon is dreamier, kind of heavier or thicker or something, than the Sun. I found this somewhat Zen. I don't usually associate Zen with Drawing Down the Moon." He looked queryingly at Marie, which led the others to also look at her.

"The Prop," she said. She looked at Mary. "Trump Fourteen. Between the Sun and the Moon." She looked at Maurice. "Could what Marny refers to as Zen relate to I Am That I Am?" She asked. "Pure Being?" She elaborated. "Be Here Now?"

Maurice smiled. "But, oh my gosh, would that mean Zen Masters are Ipsissimi?" He asked. Pause. "Might one also ask what is meant by grounding and/or centering if neither of those terms refers to being in the moment, being here now, being in some kind of Zen state?"

Now it was Marie's turn to grimace. Ouch. She noticed though that Mary seemed to be enjoying this, so she raised an eyebrow in query at Mary, which of course directed everyone's attention in that direction. Everyone except Maurice, that is. Heck, Brian was enjoying it too. Maybe they'll make a great pair.

Maurice looked at Brian, asked "How do you make a Freya whine?"

Brian's grin grew even more impish. "Its similar to the way you make a whore moan," he said. "You don't pay lip service." He started rummaging in his drawstring bag.

"When Humpty Dumpty uses a word..." said Maurice. His grin wasn't quite as impish as Brian's, but impishness was clearly its intent. No-one seemed to think it likely that anyone there was unaware that Humpty Dumpty had had a great fall.

Brian's hands stopped rummaging. He allowed a moment for the pennies to drop, so to speak: for the impact of the jokes and the Lewis Carrol reference to sink in. Then brought another bottle of Freya Wine out of the bag. "Cakes and Wine?" He asked.

The atmosphere lightened perceptibly. The tin of mooncakes was sitting beside Marie; she picked it up, thought a moment and then, with a big grin, offered it to Brian.

Brian raised his eyebrows, looked to Maurice, saw a big grin in that quarter too. Oh great, he thought. Big white hunter show the primitives how Drawing Down the Moon is done. He shook his head, grinning wryly. Did that convey the intended impression of gosh darn it I asked for that didn't I? Maybe it did. He accepted the tin, handed it to Mary. "Shall we show them how its done, my dear?" He asked her.

Her jaw dropped and her eyebrows raised. She looked at Marie, received a big laughish grin. She sighed, rolled her eyes. "Yes dear, whatever you say dear, show them how its done you big clever man," she said. She grinned at him, opened the tin, mated its lid to the underside, held the tin toward him.

He adoped an exaggerated air of miming. Mimed puzzlement, as if trying to work out this difficult problem. A raised forefinger accompanied by raised eyebrows expressed Aha! He brought his knife from its sheath. Puzzlement again, looking from knife to tin. He looked at Janet. "Maybe the great and wise Priestess or Maiden can explain who is supposed to hold what and why?" He asked. "Or does the switching of the knife and that which is knifed only apply to the wine, not the cakes? I don't have Wiccan symbolism and practices quite clear in my head just yet." He smiled, and continued right on before Janet even tried to respond. "Me I'd just go like hey presto," raising the knife toward a point above the centre of the circle, "let the Moon descend into the cakes," sweeping the knife down to point into the tin, "and of course," leaning forward and kissing Mary on the lips unexpectedly enough that she probably didn't really have much of a chance to even try to avoid it, "into this Goddess." He smirked. "But thats just me."

Mary leaned forward, kissed him back. On the lips. "As it is bidden, so shall it be," she said. Her eyes said a lot too.

Brian's eyes widened and his impish grin reappeared. "In that case, gracious Goddess, I bid ye hold this." He handed her the knife, wrestled the stopper from the winebottle, rummaged in his bag, brought out a goblet, filled it with wine, put down the bottle, held the chalice toward her in both hands, glanced at Janet just long enough to catch a slight nod from her, then back at Mary. He looked at the knife in her hand, frowned, put down the goblet, looked around. "Okay, I have a problem," he said. "Shouldn't the cup thing be Fire and Water rather than Air and Water? Do you lot switch Wands and Swords in ritual as compared to the elements they represent in most Tarot decks? Or do you use Air as a tool to direct Fire into the Water? I've even read that a Witch's Athame isn't any one element but a general purpose tool, maybe some kind of Swiss Army Knife kind of thing."

Maurice smiled a quick smile at Marie but then immediately turned his attention back to Janet.

Marie, smiling, also waited for Janet to answer.

Janet smiled. "Swiss Army Knife," she said. "Staff for fire, wand for divinatory air, gentle air, gentle indication, conductor's baton, that kind of thing. In Circle the Sword is the Will of the Group, the Groupwill, that might be why some say that in ritual it is Fire. Air is the arrow of Law, Fire is the radiating many arrows of Chaos. So I guess even in Circle the Sword is Air, because in a way it is the converging of many arrows into one, convergence rather than radiation or dissipation. The Athame is mostly Will, I think, but on the other hand the will that wanders wither it listeth, or even the Spirit that wanders wither it listeth, is kind of airy." Her eyes narrowed in thought. "Its a good question. A phallic-design wand might be a better symbol to use for thing-into-cup rites. Sticking a weapon in there doesn't seem very nice, does it?"

Brian shrugged. "I can see where putting out a cigar by poking it into someone's wine could be taken the wrong way," he admitted.

Janet chuckled.

Maurice chuckled too, but for a different reason. He'd seen that done. Classic. He looked at Marie and Marny. "Care to clarify?" He asked.

"Arg." Marie said. "Ask no questions, just do as instructed! Bah humbug! You lot are a bunch of heretics. You ask awkward questions. Its great, its good, but I'm just a Practicing Adept, I don't have all the answers. If the Master of the Temple doesn't have them either then maybe we need a Magus or something." She turned an evil eyebrow-wiggling grin on Maurice.

Maurice gave her a big wide grin and rubbed his palms together in a gleeful-avarice gesture. "Heh heh heh," he said. "Me puny Adeptus Major, maybe Exemptus Wizardrous enlighten when return?"

Marny stood up. "May I?" He asked Maurice, approaching the Altar.

Maurice raised his open hands palm up with a slight shrug, as if to say "who am I to naysay you?" Or maybe it meant "huh, I have no idea what you have in mind."

Marny took the Sword from the altar, set it on the carpet between Maurice and the Pantacle, its handle toward Maurice's right. "The will of the group," he said, and sat back down in his southerly spot.

They all looked around at each other. Gradually their attention all returned to Brian. Which, come to notice it, was pretty much where the Sword was pointing. Quietude settled.

Brian smiled. Shrugged. "Mighty Practicing Adept show how done," he said. He rose, approached the Altar, lifted the Wand. "A thing's a phallic symbol if its longer than its wide," he quoted. "Thats a Melanie line, in case you aren't familiar with it," he added. "I honestly have never yet encountered a satisfactory - satisfactory to me anyway - explanation of why Wands and Swords should switch their meaning in ritual as compared to in the cards." He noticed that everyone had to kind of crane their necks to look up at him, so he returned to his spot and sat down. He placed the wand on the carpet in front of him. Its ends were not symmetric; unlike some wands it did have one end that seemed to be the end one would hold it by and one that seemed to be the end one would point at things with. By that reckoning it was pointing from his right to his left. Which, of course, also happened to mean that it was pointing in a generally deosil - clockwise - direction. He untied his cord, slipped the sheath off of it, retied the cord. Turned to Mary, holding the open end of the sheath toward her. "Knife?" He asked her.

Marie slid the knife into the sheath.

Brian nodded at her, put the sheathed knife down, rummaged in his drawstring bag, brought out a square brown kerchief or scarf of heavy cotton, and his Zippo. He moved the wand aside, set out the scarf toward the centre of the circle on a radius between himself and Mary, and set the zippo, the sheathed knife, and the goblet on the cloth. He pointed at the cloth. "Earth." At the cup of wine, or maybe, actually, he was pointing at the wine itself. "Water." He lifted the Zippo. "Lighter." He flicked it open and fired it up. "Light." He pointed at the flame. "Fire." He closed the lighter. "Dark." He put the lighter back on the cloth, picked up the sheathed knife, waved it around. "Pointer, Indicator, Conductor's Baton. Wander wither you listeth but I suggest listing thataways." He unsheathed it. "Weapon. Threat. Potential violence. Will in a force or domination mode rather than an unheavy, freeflowing, wander whither you listeth mode." He looked around at everyone. "Sure enough, there is a confusion between Light and Fire. Woodrow Wilson said something about the trick being to try for more light and less heat. On the other hand, warmth has its virtues. If we take Air to mean Motion, then Air can be a cause of Fire by means of friction. If we take Fire to be Energy then Fire can be a cause of Air by means of evaporation or sublimation." He looked at Janet. "The radiating arrows of Chaos is a nice idea for Fire if we take the arrows to be Light. I wonder though whether Light and Spirit correspond. Maybe Fire only symbolises or represents Spirit rather than actually giving it off, radiating it, like it does Light? If we take alcohol - so-called spirit or spirits - to represent Spirit then the wine is already spirited water, but is it Water of Spirit or Spirit of Water? Maybe the alcohol itself is Water of Spirit and the wine is Spirit of Water? Or is it vice-versa? If my recollection of Wiccan rites is correct the so called Great Rite is when the man wields the Lingam and the woman wields the Yoni, whereas in the Cakes and Wine rite the man wields the Yoni and the woman wields the Lingam?" He picked up the goblet. "If that is correct then it seems to come down to whether or not Mary should unsheath the knife to represent Fire as in Will or leave it sheathed to represent Air as in indication or information, where information might conceivably be enlightening and thus might conceivably represent light. But notice the word conceive has crept in. If a phallic symbol is intended then conception would probably seem more likely without a sheath than with a sheath. Quenching a cigar in a cup of wine is actually very eloquent, even classic, if it weren't for the unfortunate connotation of insult that it has in some cultures and the fact that it might not improve the flavour of the wine. Dipping the lighter into the wine would make sense with my little collection of tools, too bad the lighter isn't very phallic in shape." He picked up the knife by the sheath with his right hand, turned to Mary. "If it be thy will, draw the knife." He picked up the goblet with his other hand, waited.

Mary drew the knife.

Brian put the sheath on the cloth, held the goblet in both hands. "If it be thy will..." He looked at her, wiggled his eyebrows, licked his lips.

"As the Water is to the Spirit, so the Fire is to the Light," said Brian.

They opened their eyes, looked around.

"Of course a lot of folks might prefer the word Soul instead of the word Spirit in that particular construction," said Brian. "But I didn't want to introduce yet another meaningless noise, also known as yet another undefined term." He handed Mary the goblet and picked up the tin of cakes, looked at Janet. "Next question, of course, is who drinks first and who eats first. Presumably the woman passes the water because water is soft and the man passes the cakes because earth is hard?" He held up the tin of cakes. "Strength and nourishment."

Marie smiled, held up the cup. "The lifeblood of the Universe." She held the cup toward him with one hand. "May you never thirst." With her other hand she picked up a cake.

Brian sipped from the cup, took a cake.

Mary sipped, took a bite of her cake.

Brian ate some of his cake. "Next question. Are the cakes and wine passed from person to person around the circle or carried from person to person by bearers? On the assumption that you lot are dextrous enough to pass them without spilling them or some other disaster, I'd go with simply passing them being as how you're all sitting down. So that you don't have to look up at us, not so that we don't have to be of service."

Mary smiled, nodded, looked around. No demurrers. She passed the goblet to Scott. "May you never thirst." Brian passed her the tin. She waited until Scott had sipped and passed the goblet to Janet (saying "may you never thirst" as he did so), and passed the tin to Scott. "Eat and be nourished."

Brian waited until the goblet and the tin had passed all the way around the circle and set them down again on the cloth. "While I'm waxing nitpicky," he said, "I might as well also point out that if the tin actually was tin, rather than, for example, silver, the metal of the moon, it might be obvious to any qabalistically-literate occultist that those must logically be jupitercakes rather than mooncakes. As it is the chances are good that it is iron or steel or maybe nickel or somesuch that is at least somewhat ironlike, thus that it is obviously intended to contain marscakes."

"They are in the Wizard's care, thus in a tin to symbolise that they are contained within the protection of an Exempt Adept," Marie explained. Possibly with just a tiny touch of faceciousness.

Brian looked at the wine remaining in the goblet, the cake remaining in the tin. "We finish off the wine but not the cakes?" He asked. "Because the tin has a lid and the goblet doesn't or because people's unhygenic lips touched the wine but their unhygenic fingers didn't touch the cakes? Or maybe because fingers are hygenic whereas lips aren't? Or do we finish off both? I'm actually tempted to pour the remaining wine as a libation. Is the carpet thirsty?"

Maurice grinned. "Pour it on the Pantacle?"

Marie looked at Marny, saw no demurrer. "Yummy, thanks!"

Brian picked up the goblet, looked at Mary. "Together?" Mary smiled, grasped it with him. Together they poured the wine onto the Pantacle, from whence it flowed out onto the carpet which, it seemed, was indeed thirsty.

"Mind you," said Maurice, "I've known a thirsty carpet, or maybe it was a thirsty floor, before. Spills happened chronically. So unless you want stuff getting spilled all the time you might want to save this particular carpet for occassions when you want dryness or for some other reason want a thirsty carpet."

Marie nodded. "Noted. Usually we'd use a low altar suitable for sitting, and it'd have a libation bowl on it. Or we'd have a cauldron on the floor in the centre. We'd offer both cake and wine, the cakes would be counted in advance so no extras to worry about, and folk would know the size of the bowl or cauldron well enough to be able to avoid leaving more wine than it could comfortably hold. Come to think of it, we usually use a bowl or cauldron that is larger than the Chalice, at least when working with people who might not think clearly enough and far enough ahead to think of such details or who might all turn out to be teetotalers, or if the situation or working is of a kind likely to distract people so much they might not remember such a detail. Basically we save a lot of potential snags simply by using a Chalice smaller than the bowl or cauldron, and we seldom even stop to think about why we happen to do that. Thanks for causing me to remember it. Knowing why we do what we do can be kind of fun, can't it? So much for Starhawk's apparent theory that Younger Self doesn't like explanations or doesn't like knowing or doesn't like analysis, or some such hypothesis. Maybe it is bad experiences with education that lead to a Younger Self such as she describes?"

Brian smiled. "Maybe unclear or confusing symbols don't help Younger Self match words coherently to symbols?" He asked. He picked up the one cake left in the tin. "As usual there is exactly one cake left," he said. He looked at Mary. "Together?" Together they placed the cake on the Pantacle.

Janet looked at Scott, reached toward their own Pantacle and Chalice, raised an eyebrown queryingly at him. He smiled, nodded. She lifted their Pantacle, Scott their Chalice. "You're not planning to let ours go hungry and thirsty, are you?" Janet asked.

Marie smiled at them, made an open-handed "go ahead" or "help yourself" gesture.

They leaned forward. Realised that lifting the Pantacle to try to pour the remaining droplets of wine from it would be kind of extreme if it could be taken as moving the entirety of South Wyvern Street. Instead they each used a finger to pick up a droplet of liquid, and pinched off some crumbs from the cake. They each fed both of the tools. Smiled around at everyone. Placed their Chalice on their Pantacle in front of them.

"Do we want to complicate things by introducing the ideas of oils or essences and use the term dressing the candles?" Maurice asked. "Or might the cakes and wine serve instead and the term feeding or nourishing be used instead of dressing?"

Janet looked at Mary Brian and Scott, with a big smile and raised eyebrows. Big happy smiles. "Yum yum," she said, rose, approached the Altar, Looked at the candles for a moment. She knew which was hers, and Brian's was easy as it was the only yellow one. Scott had placed his at the right hand of hers of course. Oh duh, they're correlated with where we sat, she realised. She picked them up, passed them out, resumed her place. "Uh, slight difference in protocols," she announced. "We dress the Yellow during dedication, whereas if I understand correctly the tradition Wyvern Street Circle uses with the White is you dress it in advance, bring it already dressed to your dedication?" She asked.

Maurice grinned at Marie. "Doesn't miss a trick," he commented. "But don't blame my wing, rather its part of why I took them under my wing." He beamed at Janet.

Janet smiled, made a little sitting bow. "Thanks. Here's my take on it then. We should dress - nourish - the whites but the yellow is a Wyvern Street Coven matter and as far as I know Wyvern Street Coven is meeting in the South apartment later for Mary's Dedication. If the Postulant still wishes to apply to Wyvern Street Coven as a Dedicant he may accompany us when we return to the South apartment and consult our High Priestess and High Priest." She looked at Marie and Marny. "Unless, of course, some being or beings here present can divine their wishes." She grinned at them but immediately turned her gaze upon Brian. "So posture here or posture later, your choice, if you still want to postulate a Dedication."

Brian smiled at her, looked at Maurice and shook his head. "Sharp as a tack," he said. He returned his gaze to Janet, still beaming. "What, Wiccan dedications aren't spur of the moment fripperies?" He asked. "Gosh, I'd better put some thought into this. I'd love to visit the South apartment sometime and meet your High Priestess and High Priest, but if they're going to be busy doing a dedication maybe tonight wouldn't be the best time?"

Mary's eyes widened... in shock or horror or what? She grabbed Brian's arm. "Hey, can one bring a guest to one's Dedication?" She asked.

Janet mimed thoughtfulness. "Gee, let me think about that," she said, and paused, watching Mary.

Mary frowned, pouted, cocked her head toward Janet a little. Brian, watching Marie and Marny carefully, squeezed her hand. She smiled, straightened her head. "Manfriends are spur of the moment fripperies to be discarded at the drop of a Dedication?" She asked. "Are you trying to break us up already, we've hardly started getting together."

Janet smiled. "Okay, okay, I don't think my High Priestess and High Priest would be pleased if I drove away their Postulant just before her Dedication. He can come to the apartment and we can discuss it there." She looked at him, received a smile, looked at Marie, received a nod, glanced also at Marny but knew that was redundant. Not because he didn't count in the face of Marie's nod but because Marie wouldn't've nodded if Marny had demurred. Come to think of it, Brian probably wouldn't've smiled at her that way if Marie or Marny had demurred; she knew he'd been watching them carefully, he'd only torn his eyes off them for a moment in order to show that the smile was for her by meeting her eyes. Maybe he might've nodded an insy bit with the smile too; certainly it had been a smile as good as a nod. He likely would've directed her attention to Marie or Marny had he seen any demurral in them. He'd been watching them not only for Mary but also for her. One mind, one will, one sense, one... world? She smiled as she made the connection. Duh. One World Cafe. She shook her head in bemusement. Be muse meant? Arg. That you, Raphael? May I call you Raff? Duh. Who call who what? That you, mind? Mind if I call you mind? She smiled. Raffishly? She thought of Riff-Raff, a character from the movie that Maurice had referred to earlier. Hunched her shoulders slightly, rubbed her hands together. Heh heh heh.

Brian managed to control his incipient chuckle enough to show that he was at least trying to seem to be serious, and looked at Janet. "So far so good. I'm looking forward to hearing the instructions you Wiccans follow for the rite of nourishing the white candles." He allowed the chuckle to emerge. No, wait, that isn't a chuckle, thats a laugh, isn't it? Hee hee hee. Maybe a giggle?

Whichever, Janet was doing much the same.

They sobered.

"They're not blind," said Janet. She looked at Scott. We showed them a nourishing rite mere moments ago, didn't we?" She asked him.

Scott chuckled. "Maybe just a little slow?" He surmised.

Marie squinted an eye at them. If looks could... She released Brian's arm, nourished her candle, gave Janet and Scott that look again. Might it be some variety of glare? A squinting-one-eye glare? She realised why Brian had made her read Keith Laumer's 'Retief of the C.D.T.' way back when. Was it an ILC-123a kind of look or a ILC-M-123a she wondered, chuckling. An If Looks Could 123a or an If Looks Could Modified 123a? She chuckled. But wait. She sobered. Okay, so can a friend who isn't a Postulant help me nourish my candle? She wondered. Hey, thats none of Janet's business. She looked at Maurice. Thats a laugh, isn't it? A subdued or partially-suppressed laugh but definitely more than a chuckle and not a giggle? An excrement-eating grin? Yes, he's definitely inhaling all the negativity out of me, making me follow suit...

"Yes, Adepts of Wyvern Street Circle are permitted to assist Postulants in nourishing their candles," Maurice managed to squeeze out through his chuckle-suppressor.

She looked at Brian. It figured: definitely a YOHTA: You Only Have To Ask.

He read her IAAD: I Am Asking Dammit. Engaged his suppressor. Helped her nourish her candle.

Ahem. Not waiting to see how obscene that mutual coddling of the candle might become, Janet and Scott took care of their own candles.

Marie chuckled. "Some much-loved candles incoming," she announced.

Brian, without rising, helped Mary to rise.

Mary approached the Altar, looked at Maurice.

"I think you'll find a nice cosy spot somewhere on the inside," Maurice told her. "Take your time, look around, survey from all sides, find it a home. Who knows how long it might rest in there before the big day arrives or you decide to retrieve it?"

Crouching, she began to survey the mysteries of the inner chambers of the Altar.

Maurice looked at Janet and Scott. "I dunno about you but Mary's got all night," he said. "She doesn't have to work tomorrow unless she happens for some reason to want to, the kids even have taxis booked to take them to school and back." He looked at Brian. "Though of course you're welcome to pick up those fares." He looked at Janet and Scott again. "So choose your own pace." He grinned. "Unless, of course, some being or beings here present divine that your High Priestess and/or High Priest need you back at the South apartment all of a sudden or at some particular time."

Marie didn't move a whisker.

Marny somewhat conspicuously settled himself down comfortably as if for a nice meditation that might last who knows how long, and looked at Marie as if to say like what, you left the cookies in the oven or something?

Brian, clearly, was with Marny on this one.

Marie shrugged. "Breakfast at..." She smiled as an idea struck her. "One World Cafe?" Pause. No demurrers. "They close at ten or so in the evening, we'd have to squeeze in the dedication before that if we want to get it done before breakfast." She too settled in for the long haul. "No telling how long it might take for the newbies to explore that Altar and decide where, if anywhere, within it their candles might like to rest."

Did Janet and Scott even hear her or were they too busy playing with their candles?

Maurice looked at Marie. "So anyway, where were we? Oh yes, I remember, I was going to tell a story. Once upon a time, while people were surveying the universe wondering whether to incarnate in it or not, exploring its nooks and crannies wondering whether any part of it might be nice to manifest themselves in for a while, some jerk took it into his or her head to try to tell everyone else what to do and maybe even how to do it. Though in some versions of the story they didn't care how it was done, just that it was done. Those versions, of course, tended to lead to stupidity, which tends, as Robert Heinlein has pointed out, to be fatal. Even Larry Niven's telepathic Slavers, who controlled entire planets of cleverer entities with their powerful Coerciveness, died of stupidity. Though admittedly they managed to take almost all the sentient beings in their Galaxy with them in their death throes. So in many versions telling others how as well as what tended to be a popular combination for jerks of many species. It turned out though that the jerks didn't always know the best way of doing things. So in many versions things just basically got jerked around, messed up, ruined, whatever. Quite a few folk might not even bother to incarnate into setups of that kind. So there also arose situations in which it began to seem desirable to actually try to learn from newly incarnated beings instead of trying to wipe out of them the wisdom that they incarnated to bring into the world. Gosh, I think even the Christians might have some story somewhat along those lines. Even they admit that even in the universe they regard as actual there was at least one child born that actually brought some wisdom or something into the world. Too bad so many of them insist that because its already been done it cannot become the normal occurrence, the usual case when any child is born."

Janet and Scott's candles were nourished at last, as evidenced by the fact that they rose and joined in the fun of exploring the nooks and crannies of the Altar. Marie and Brian found a place for their candles and returned to their places. Janet and Scott circled the altar, familiarising themselves with the layout. Soon they too stashed their candles and returned to their places. A comfortable silence grew. Energies swirled and merged as they all reached out again with their senses, sent their roots deep into the earth, their branches into the sky, reaching for the stars. A sense of completion filled them.

Eventually Maurice spoke. "Wow. I think that went rather well. Whenever you're ready you can leave me here to close the circle. I want to do some meditating. You should go do your own circle now, I think we've accomplished plenty here."

Marie nodded. "Good idea. Wow that was good. Welcome to South Wyvern Street."

Maurice smiled at her. "Thanks. I'll be up most of the night if you want to pop back later."

Marie nodded again. "Good. We'll see how it goes."

Slowly they rose and filed out to the study, where Marie and Marny took the lead as they headed back to the front apartment - Marie and Marny's apartment.