The Quest continues...

Part 16 - Starlight Wolf

"You can talk! I didn’t know you could talk...and how did you guess my name?"

Sara forgot for a second that she was not where she was used to...the familiarity of the forest had brought her back to earlier moments. The butterfly remained silent, and Sara shut her eyes and tried to bring back all the events into her mind...the dream world, the memories, the interesting people that she met. Bits and pieces flew back in her conscious mind, like metal attracted to a magnet. She remembered that she was supposed to ask everyone she met for a present. Sara forced her eyes open and surveyed the scene. The butterfly, delicate as calligraphy, fragile as lace... it was still hovering above her.

"Oh, butterfly! Butterfly! What do you have to give to me today?"

"What makes you think I should give you something?" the butterfly answered back in a teeny voice. "Have you given anything to me?"

"Why, no...um..."

"Why don’t you give me that flower in your hair?" the butterfly asked. "That wasn’t given to you. You simply took it."

"No! The flower directs my path! I can’t give it to you, you ... butterfly!" Sara considered all of the other things that she could part with. "How about that Faerie cloth cloak?" "No! It’s not time yet! Why don’t I give you something else?"

Sara wanted to give something to this beautiful butterfly, but not something that was given to her, something else...something of her own. She wanted to give away... a strand of her own hair. As soon as the thought of scissors crept into her mind, a beautiful lock fell off. The butterfly eagerly jumped into the strand and emerged glowing.

"Thank you for the sparkles...and now, I suppose you think I ought to give you something back. But I already have, my child. I have given you my sight within this otherwise familiar forest. I have given you myself. And ... I have taught you how to give back." The butterfly flew away, disappearing into the sunlit air.

Part 17 - Gemini Wolf

Sara dropped to her knees with exhaustion. At least if this really was a dream, she thought, I would really be asleep! But nothing had seemed real—not for a very long time. She laughed softly to herself and touched the snail in her pocket, grateful for the gift of laughter. Sara girl, she thought to herself, you’ve done some pretty wild things in your day—but this really beats everything!

She pulled the cloak tightly around herself, and closed her eyes for a moment. "She guards me, I am safe. She knows me, and I know her." She listened carefully to the sounds around her. The wind whispered in the leaves overhead, and she wondered what secrets the trees were sharing. She could hear the giggling of water over rocks in the distance, and the buzzing of insects somewhere to her right. Suddenly, she heard another sound, a new sound...an unexpected sound. Sara opened her eyes and listened carefully—yes, it was—it was the sound of a woman, crying!

She looked around her to get her bearings. Birch and oak leaves danced overhead, sunshine warmed her face. Her heart ached for whoever was crying...while she had the gift of laughter. She could still hear the water somewhere in the distance to her left, though she couldn’t see it. To her right, bees were busy pollinating a field of clover. The smell of mint and pine sap filled her nostrils.

The sobbing was coming from somewhere directly ahead of her. She shrugged her shoulders and got to her feet, brushing earth and leaves from her cloak. Slowly at first, then faster, she put one foot in front of the other.

Something was strange, though—she began to notice that with every step she took, the air around her grew dark and somehow heavy. The smells changed from spicy and pleasant—to musty and dank. Her heart beat harder in her chest, but still she moved forward.

Faster she moved, and faster, as the air became chill around her, faster and faster until she slipped on a wet tree root and fell, flat, splash! into a slimy puddle of black mud.

"Oh, gross!" she sputtered, searching desperately for a dry piece of land and something to hold onto.

And then She was there...just standing there, reaching out her hand. Sara took it—and then quickly pulled away. There was something painfully familiar about this tall, thin, sad looking woman with the wispy, tired-looking hair. There was something, something deep in those soft, wounded amber eyes...

Sara tried to get up by herself and slipped. The cottage fell out of her pocket. "Of course!" she gasped. It was Lana. "You can’t do this one by yourself," sniffed Lana, "You have to ask for help."

"I can’t ask *you* for help!" Sara burst into tears.

"Why not?"

"Why would you help me? After what we did to you?"

"That’s exactly why you need to ask me for help."

Sara closed her eyes and remembered that terrible day.

She and muriel and Gloria had always derived such pleasure from tormenting Lana. She didn’t know *anything* about what was fashionable, and she had such an odd way of keepint to herself. Her homework was always done and she got straight A’s even though she never said anything in class. When Sara and her friends would giggle about their Saturday night dates with their various levels of heavy petting, Lana would turn white and run from the room.

One day they decided to break her of her judgemental and prim and proper ways. They fixed her up with Gloria’s brother. It was only supposed to be a joke! They didn’t know *what* to think when Lana left school—pregnant—and was found a week later, in her bedroom, surrounded by stuffed animals and blood, and very, very dead.

Sara opened her eyes, unable to carry the pain anymore.

"Help me, Lana," she choked, "Please help me!"

She took Lana’s hand. It was soft, and warm. As Lana pulled Sara to her feet, a strange thing happened. Lana seemed to take on substance and strength. Her hair became full, thick and shiny, her skin glowed with health. Her amber eyes twinkled, her lips curved into a tiny smile. She was naked, and painful looking scars marked her body as if she had been through some kind of war. Sara knew what she had to do.

Part 18 - Becky (Serenity) Wolf

Sara thought back, to what the strange creature had told her in the cave. It seemed so long ago, now! Yes, she did know what she had to do. But, she also knew that it would take every ounce of inner strength she possessed to do it. Purse selfishness rose within her; it’s taste bitter, vile, yet difficult to relinquish. Sara searched desperately within herself, trying to find the answers she needed.

"You need this more than I do," said Sara softly. Lana smiled, her face suddenly beautiful and serene. And Sara’s heart became as light as a hot air balloon soaring upward; a terrible burden had been lifted from her soul. Suddenly she realized that the simple act of giving the cloak to Lana had resulted in a return worth a thousand Faerie cloaks. Sara’s act of selfless giving had led to her receipt of a gift far more precious - the gift of forgiveness. Being forgiven was indeed the most far-reaching freedom Sara had ever known.

She closed her eyes for a moment, relishing the warmth that coursed through her veins. When she opened them again, the scene had changed. Lana’s face, made brilliant by an ethereal smile, glowed softly, then vanished into an ensuing darkness.

Pitch blackness followed, lasting just long enough for the long fingers of fear to wrap themselves around Sara’s heart. Then the blackness faded, and a warm glow of sunshine filled the air. The abrupt change from dark to light was unexpected, and Sara quickly shut her eyes to let them adjust. Several deep breaths later, she allowed her eyelids to flicker upwards and gazed around in wonder.

As her eyes moved across the scene, she suddenly recognized a familiar face, someone she had prayed she would never see again. "Jarred!" she gasped, her face turning white and her hands clenched into protective fists by her side. He had once been her friend, but that terrible night so long ago had changed all of that. Somehow she had knew she would have to make amends, to resolve those issues which had surfaced that night. Sara just didn’t feel ready to do that right now. This felt like her darkest moment in the valley.

Part 19 - Willow

She was in the remains of an old barn. Jarred threw an oversized shirt at her. "Cover yourself up," he snapped. As she scrambled to get the shirt on, and wrestling the quiver over her shoulder, Sara’s mind was reeling. By the Mother, she thought with despair, am I to meet every ghost from my past! Lana had forgiven her. But it may have been easier to make peace with the dead. Now she must try to find a way to make peace with the living. Jarred was not dead. He was very much alive in the real world. She always avoided any place where her path might cross his. The embarrassment and pain was too great, and so many years had passed, that she had felt it too late to undo what she had done.

He was looking at her now. His face expressionless, but his gaze cold and unrelenting. In the Dreamtime he was not the kind Jarred whose heart she had walked on, and who had been too much of a gentleman to confront her. He had walked with pride, but she knew his heart was broken. Now, he had left his pain behind, and faced her in the Dreamtime with anger. How could she reach him?

"Jarred," she began uncertainly, reaching a tentative hand toward him, "I am so sorry."

He stepped out of her reach. "You should be," he replied coolly. "I thought I knew you but you turned out to be someone completely different. I should have seen through your act."

"But it wasn’t an act! I truly did, um, care for you."

"See," he interrupted, "you are lying to me again. You can’t even say it now, just as you couldn’t then."

She dropped her hand and sighed. "You’re right. But please, let me explain."

"Explain?" he sneered. "Explain? Oh I don’t need your explanations. You made yourself very clear that Solstice night. I wasn’t good enough for you, was I? I didn’t have money, or property." His words dripped with bitterness. "I was just good old dependable Jarred, the guy you could flirt with, who would take you anyplace you wanted to go, do whatever you wanted to do. You made me believe we had a future together. I knew it would be hard at first, but dammit I had plans. I never intended to stay on the farm. I always planned to make a real home for us. But I wasn’t good enough. Oh no. That slick stranger came to town, with the expensive clothes, the fine talk, and the full wallet, and you dropped me without a word. Left me standing at the Solstice fire all alone, in front of the entire village, while you snuck off with him to make love under the full moon. I was never so humiliated in my life."

"I acted badly. I know it. I’ve always regretted that, Jarred. You must believe me.

"No, I don’t have to believe you. I know you, better than you know yourself. You can’t see past the end of your own nose. You use people, then toss them aside when someone who can offer you more comes along. You craved possessions, money, a trophy husband, a fancy house, expensive clothes. You needed all those things around you to give you worth, because inside you had no worth. You are a user, Sara. You married a man you did not love because he had money. Tell me, did you make him happy?"

Under his unrelenting attack, she felt something inside her clench, then release. Parts of her seemed to be dissolving, shifting, falling away. She opened her mouth to deny his words, and found herself saying, "No, I made him miserable!", as she burst into tears. She couldn’t stop talking, even though the tears. "I never loved him and he knew it. He tried desperately to buy me things, take me on trips, always hoping that one more gift, one more piece of jewelry, would get him a piece of my heart. It didn’t work. I never loved him."

"Yet you had to have him, because I wasn’t good enough, was I?"

"No," she whispered, ashen. "No, you weren’t."

He turned his back on her. Through her misted eyes she saw his head draw suddenly toward the right. Blinking to clear the tears, she became aware for the first time of a slender rope, knotted around his neck, the end leading upward toward a large spindle sitting on a beam. As she watched, the rope became taut, then began to rewind, drawing Jarred slowly upward. As his toes left he floor, he swung around so she could see his face.

"I have been tied to you for all of these years," he rasped through his choking throat. "Now the depth of your betrayal is killing me."

From deep within her, Sara felt something stir. "Like hell it will," she hissed, reaching for the bow and quiver hanging on her back. Quickly she whipped the bow free, drew an arrow, and aimed at the thin rope. "Goddess help me", she whispered fiercely, as she drew back the bow and released one of her three arrows.

The gift from the Lady of the Woodlands ran true, severing the cord. Jarred fell to the earth. She jammed the bow back into the quiver and ran to his side. Fingers trembling, she undid the knot and tossed aside the remains of the cord.

"Jarred," she said through trembling lips, "I cannot undo the past. But I swear to you, that I will find a way to make things right with us when I return from the Dreamtime. And I swear that I will never put anything ahead of love again. You probably don’t believe me, but that doesn’t matter. I know now how my shallowness has eaten away at my life like a cancer. You have given me the greatest gift so far on this journey. You held up a mirror and I have finally seen what I had become. The image sickens me."

"Then there is hope for you yet," he murmured. "Now go. There is a path to the right, outside the door. Take it."

"I will, but not before I tell you this." She put her hand gently under his chin and lifted so his eyes met hers. "I love you. I always have and I always will. I know now that it was me who was not good enough for you. You have a true heart. I did not deserve your love then. Perhaps one day I will be worthy of it."

Part 20 - Gemini Wolf

She tried to find something, anything to hold onto. "beep.beep.beep."

She groaned, and rolled over, aimlessly hitting the alarm clock on the end table, knocking it to the floor. Her head ached like it was going to explode, and by the way her stomach felt she knew she was going to have to get up in spite of herself. The sheets were cold and damp. It had not been a good night.

After a short prayer vigil to the Porcelain Goddess, Sara cautiously sipped some ginger ale and remembered how thirsty she had been in the.Dreamtime. What a bizarre experience. She had to think hard to remember.what had it all been about?

The awareness of her grief hit her like a punch in the stomach, and she thought she was going to have to run to the bathroom again. "Wrapped in a blue woolen blanket.sitting close to a roaring fire.purring cat.a hand she held in her own.a baby wailing.a raised voice.a slammed door.a pain in her side.she was running.running.running.she felt herself once again feeling faint, but raised the cold glass to her temple to maintain her sense of focus.

She was in hiding, in a strange town, in a strange place. She had run from Steve, the man with the full wallet, the expensive clothes, the fine talk.and the desperate need for control. It hadn’t been her fault that she had been manipulated by his fancy ways, she knew that now. He had planned it from the start, and he knew exactly what he was doing. It had just taken her a long, long time to realize how she had been used.and it hurt.so much. Especially since it had cost her her friendship with Jarred, a friendship she truly needed right now. She wondered if he would be willing to be there for her one more time?

It had been so terrible.that last major argument.the yelling, smashing things, the accusations that were simply so unfair and untrue. He had thrown all her journals into the fire, and they had caught and spread throughout the house, catching on the drapes, everything had gone up so fast and their baby, their little baby Crystal, conceived on that Solstice night could not be saved.

Sara ran for the bathroom again, crying and throwing up at the same time. And now she understood the reason for the bizarre Dreamtime that had haunted her all night. She remembered what she was going to do today.

As soon as she could, she got to her feet, and reached overhead to the medicine chest, where she had carefully placed the pregnancy test kit the night before. Now she remembered why she had so desperately needed to leave, before Steve could hurt one more powerless victim. She knew she was pregnant again. She had to make sure. And she was going to have to find a way to survive.

The Dreamtime had enabled her to revisit her past, her present, and envision goals for her future, while processing all the lessons of her past. This was work she needed to do, for the Goddess had blessed her with another life to tend. In order to do the work of Motherhood in a way that honored her power, she needed to understand what had brought her to where she was, and how she was going to progress from here.

Two pink lines told her what she already knew. Her heart beat with terror, but she had work to do now. The first thing she was going to have to do was contact someone she knew she could trust, Jarred. The second thing was to honor the life within her with the name of the one who had taught her to gentle art of forgiving herself,Lana. Lana, for she knew she would have a daughter, a girl, a woman who would experience the wildness of life as it should be experienced, and not as the terrified and humiliated victim of some petty tyrant, as poor Crystal had been. Tears fell yet again for the child she had lost, pain mixed with guilt for surviving, and for conceiving another child so quickly that would *never* take her place. No, Lana would never take the place of Crystal, but she would pick up where she left off, to survive and thrive and leave her mark on the world in a way that would at least create some meaning for all the pain it had taken to get here.

Steve would never touch her again, she would see to that. In spite of herself, she laughed, and her hand automatically went to the pocket of her housecoat. Strangely enough, when she pulled her hand out, there was a very small snail.