Kepler Press

from the Introduction

from the Introduction

The soul of Gloucester is split as the souls of its sons and daughters are split, as a rock may be split by chisel and mallet. The town clings by fingernails to one mass of jagged granite that is Cape Ann, surrounded on three sides by the northern manic sea. The sea throws itself at the rocky shore like a demon lover, caressing and fleeing, caressing and retreating.

from Chapter One

from Chapter One

He looked closely at her and then leaned and put his face next to hers and their lips touched. He felt about to faint, and the miracle of touch was upon him faster than he could think, and everything was lost, a catastrophe flowing over him and taking him. The world turned slowly over on its axis, and everything was changed in an instant. She felt the great presence as his face swarmed up to hers, and she smiled and murmured as they kissed.

from Chapter Six

from Chapter Six

The devil was a little taller than she and lean, dressed all in red with a red cape and a mask that covered his whole face. He seemed familiar, but so did everyone that night, especially after the rum punch.

from Chapter Two

from Chapter Two

They walked along the beach at Halibut Point, climbing up onto massive blocks of tumbled granite that spilled like fallen soldiers down a steep cliff right into the sea.

from Chapter Two

from Chapter Two

During the cool spring evenings she sat in a rusted iron chair in the backyard musing on the dense forest wall of Dogtown, inhaling the smell of melting earth, mud, quickening, the faint spice of anticipation. Later, partly for lack of anything else to occupy her time, she took up the gardening she had once loved as a child. The beds were all overgrown, bushes needing trimming and pruning.

from Chapter Five

from Chapter Five

“Are you asking whether I think this Cleves story is really true? As more than just a bunch of women out in the woods getting close to nature and worshiping the earth goddess?”

from Chapter Nine

from Chapter Nine

Because there were Christian Blackcoats nearby, I did not venture within sight but hid myself in a cloud of my making, shape-shifting into wolf.

from Chapter Eleven

from Chapter Eleven

“Maybe,” I added softly, “in every cauldron joy and sorrow commingle… I know little of love, after all.”

from Chapter Nine

from Chapter Nine

Like her mother and mother’s mother, she wore the Raven emblem of queenship. Of ageless antiquity, it was an emerald five-pointed star chased in gold, ritually fastened over the left breast. From my earliest childhood my eyes were fixed upon this star, bound by its spell.

from Chapter Seven

from Chapter Seven

She stopped. Could this be one of the so-called beehives she had read about—round hillocks that dotted the New England countryside? . . . . Haunted by barrow wights, these places were to be feared and respected, much as the sacred Indian burial sites.

from Chapter Seven

from Chapter Seven

The place felt magical and calm to her, although there was something disturbing about being there she couldn’t name.

from Chapter Seven

from Chapter Seven

She climbed slowly, though even as her head neared the ceiling she could see no light from outside. Her hands were beginning to get tired. Soon above her a slit in the rock allowed a shaft of light to enter.

from Chapter Seven

from Chapter Seven

She entered the low tunnel, leaving Guy whimpering behind her. Crawling along in the semidarkness with the match wavering before her in the dank air, soon she, too, was covered by black earth; her jeans and shirt were wet and blackened, and her face, which she had brushed with her free hand, was now smeared with the underground cosmetic.

from Chapter Twelve

from Chapter Twelve

And to the east out over the water, already drawing on its night-black cape, the saturnine blue of dusky night settled in. Everything in its place.

from Chapter Nine

from Chapter Nine

My story must be believed so that the Wheel of the Year may be turned. The Gods cast into darkness by Patrick of Eire live in the new land . . .

from Chapter Nine

from Chapter Nine

I have lived long enough to write down all in this Journal, recorded in the year 1753 of the Common Era. This is my story of one new world and many old, full of spells and incantations of the three styles . . .

from Chapter Nine

from Chapter Nine

With the men and women of the Raven tribe [my grandfather] sailed from Eire, across the Fountain of Venus, to the strange new paradise in the West. With them came varied workers of the Old Arts and those who remembered the lore.

from Chapter Nine

from Chapter Nine

Caesar’s Roman legions came as conquerors to our fair Isle, imprisoning and executing my people. Thenceforth our old ones went into hiding and so remained invisible, they and their descendants, for generations to come. During the dark time—lasting centuries—some of us became necromancers and workers of the dark spirits, at home in the occult. For there was little light.

from Chapter Ten

from Chapter Ten

The harvest came in as the trees began to shower gold and orange leaves upon the forest floor; the festival of Samhain was coming on. Those of us unconverted to the One True God were busy preparing for the night when the two worlds would be open to each other.

from Chapter Nine

from Chapter Nine

And so we multiplied, telling stories and working our magic. Children and crops grew as if inspired by the magic of the old Druids.

from Chapter Nine

from Chapter Nine

Thus came the Raven tribe of two hundred Druid exiles to the New World in the year 1446 c.e. I was at that time a cock caged with the hens, left on deck for air along with the horses and cattle.

from Chapter Nine

from Chapter Nine

Into the smoke of the sacrificial fire where I lay burning a small girl stuck her head, and I entered her womb.

from Chapter Nine

from Chapter Nine

The children who had been companions in my games gone to stay with uncles, aunts, and teachers, some of whom had sailed back to Eire, never to be heard of again. No one left, it seemed: neither my goats nor the rabbits nor Aengus; all a dream already passing into the Otherworld, leaving me with a great store of longing.

from Chapter Ten

from Chapter Ten

A bad spirit hovered about the one or two white men trading for furs at Oroonca’s village, I sensed, so I avoided them. Oroonca told me they were from the seashore, coming at times through the woods to find Indians with whom to trade.

from Chapter Ten

from Chapter Ten

I bowed my thanks but remained speechless before this powerful magician, the Goddess of War. What could she want with me—or my father?

from Chapter Eleven

from Chapter Eleven

Ten days of walking uphill and down brought us to the colony of Massachusetts on the promontory of Gloucester, where the people fished and grew corn.

from Chapter Ten

from Chapter Ten

. . . so Oroonca instructed me in his Indian shaman ways. Taking me along on many hunts, he taught me how to make traps and how to put on the guise of deer or rabbits so they would not suspect me.

from Chapter Ten

from Chapter Ten

There had been no brave, only silly boys sidling up to us girls of the Bear clan whom I shoved away.

from Chapter Two

from Chapter Two

“Old New England devil stories!”

from Chapter Twelve

from Chapter Twelve

She lay unmoving, moaning when one of the others gathered around her pressed a pomegranate to her lips. Still, she nibbled with relief the tangy-sweet, scarlet-coated seeds. It was the bright seed of creation she ate, the seed of death.

from Chapter Nine

from Chapter Nine

They forbade us to sacrifice at the sacred Oak, they forbade us to pray at the circle of stones of the turning stars; we could neither sing under the open sky nor read from the Black Book.

from Chapter Ten

from Chapter Ten

Within the circle of rocks presided strange and beautiful purple trees. I prayed and crouched, waiting that the dancers might call out to me . . .

from Chapter Eleven

from Chapter Eleven

Stories of Salem began to reach us: of women who lived alone accused of practicing witchcraft, widows sent to the stake or hung . . .

from Chapter Eleven

from Chapter Eleven

As the settlement of Ravenoak grew into a town, the Blackcoats took over entirely, renaming it Innocence.

from Chapter Three

from Chapter Three

Walking without taking notice, she let Guy take the lead. When he wanted to stop she stopped, not seeing, hearing the whistling in the trees and feeling prickles along her upper arms where the wind blew across.

from Chapter Ten

from Chapter Ten

Raising my father’s sword, I rode into battle.

from Chapter Ten

from Chapter Ten

Thence did I learn the usefulness of sly language when it might give people heart.

from Chapter Ten

from Chapter Ten

That was when it struck me that my fate would be tied to these Christians, for my heart still longed terribly to return to the fairy world, the source of those magic blue lights!

from Chapter Ten

from Chapter Ten

I stared at the motley shapes of his Druid fire: small tornadoes of crimson and gold; funnels of green and amber; miniature trees of blue and red. Though my heart was heavy as lead, I smiled at the pain. What a wonder to be mortal!

from Chapter Twelve

from Chapter Twelve

Clouds were scudding past the moon. Some storm must be blowing in, she imagined, rubbing her temples. Suddenly struck white with fear, she spun around.

from Chapter Eight

from Chapter Eight

The language came easily, as if another mind than hers were inhabiting her head, directing her pen and her thoughts. As the sand ran out, it ran more quickly.

from Chapter Twelve

from Chapter Twelve

A rising shock of violation seized her, leaving her quaking with anger, shot through with vulnerability.

from Chapter Twelve

from Chapter Twelve

Back of the circle, silent and watchful, stood Philip, looking very much like his mother . . .

from Chapter Eight

from Chapter Eight

Piles of leaves were not simply leaves but flakes of poetry that Nikki turned over and over in her amazed hand, wondering at their endless variations in color and texture. Gorgeous red and gold leaves flooded the paths that Nikki and Guy swished through like waves.

Visualizations: Memoirs of a Shape-Shifter