The woman behind the counter looked out of place. It wasn't the immaculate black satin shirt, nor the efficient, spartan words she used. It wasn't her seeming unfamiliarity with the register. There was something in her manner which spoke plainly that she was Not Ordinarily there. She rang out the person ahead of us and took our order, saying that she could really use a good cup of coffee herself. It was a comment, not a friendly invite to conversation. While we were asking for change, a man approached her and tapped her on the shoulder. He had a cup of coffee for her and wanted his apron back. She explained to us that she had been filling in and that Mark would take over and possibly give us change -- if we were nice. She took the coffee hungrily and collected a coat and book from behind the counter. When our coffees were ready she also called us to sit at a nearby table with her.

"I saw you two in the Rose room," she said. "This is your first time at Powell's, isn't it?" These were easily said, friendly words. They hit me like the kind of words from a stranger which would make you want to check your pockets, if not your back, before leaving. Definitely a dangerous lady, my Advantages advised me, lucky that she already likes you.

"Actually, it's our second," I'd started in the absence of paying attention to myself because I was reading her. "We tried to leave once -- about half an hour ago -- but the place sucked us back in." Under the table Elspeth kicked me lovingly... a reminder to be polite or be quiet.

"Yes," Elspeth jumped in, smoothing her hair back from her face. "The car won't start." Pause. "It's been a very frustrating day."

"Frustrating??" The woman's eyebrows went up, "Frustrating as in you can never bring enough money into this store, or frustrating as in gerbil-wheel-running?"

"That second one," I was proud to confirm while Elspeth took a swig from her cup. I got another gentle kick due to tone of voice -- no doubt -- and a look informing me that Elspeth did not want me speaking further.

"We've been looking for a certain species of books for quite awhile. And now that we know where to find it... . We just don't have any more time today." Elspeth explained.

"Ah." She understood, "So now you're stuck in Portland with no way to get back to Washington for... hours?"

Elspeth and I looked at each other to determine if the other of us knew how she knew we were visiting from Washington. "You two wanted alot of quarters," she explained. "And neither of you seem to be from Oregon." We looked at each other again.

"I am Eilenn Votralunde," she held out her hand to Elspeth, though it did not seem a natural thing for her to do.

Elspeth took and shook while I said, "What is that? Votralunde. I've never heard a name like that before." Not on earth, anyway, the unavoidably snide tone had said -- and meant. A kick, "I'm Rachel Nicodeemus, and I bruise easily."

"I'm Elspeth Patersson." Eilenn did not offer her hand to me. Just as well.

She answered, "It's an astral Clan name." She barely gave us time to lower our cups in horrified shock of her frightening honesty, "It doesn't mean anything." Barely time to stare blankly and uncomprehendingly at each other, "I took it here to honor my astral existence -- because that's the Clan name I have astrally. The Votralunde Clan itself is effectively extinct now. I want to be recognized here by the people who know me astrally." As a matter of fact, once monkeys fly from my butt, I intend to build the tower of Babel out of soda straws. She was telling the truth, and I knew it. Just very unlikely that anyone would tell such truths to anyone from our society -- stranger or no. Maybe in Europe, where they don't speak your language.

Oh well, "I have the name Crystalise Amiajaa astrally. But don't hold it against me. Please. I broke from the Amiajaa Clan about 8 or 9 years ago. Can't control where you're born, it seems. At least not the first time around." Elspeth gaped at me over her cuppa. "Amiajaa means something like 'twits with an attitude.' I don't really want people recognizing me all over the place." But Eilenn had, just as Elspeth and I had recognized the Clan name Votralunde. Eilenn offered her hand to me, this time as a natural acknowledgement in greeting.

"You must be Ellia Trevante," Eilenn pushed in Elspeth's direction. It could have been rude, if it hadn't been so bloody unusual. "I've heard of both of you -- and your mates." She flashed a deadly smile at us. Yep. She was dangerous. Nothing more to be said about her. "I thought you seemed familiar." Another smile and she stood. "Now, about that car... ."

Eilenn took one look at Igor and disclaimed any knowledge of bubble gum and rubber bands. Elspeth told her it was our opinion that the hamster had died. We called Siochanain at the house and explained the situation to him. He wasn't able to find anyone to help with the car that day. Eilenn offered us a ride home, then re-offered when she found out we lived 50 or so miles out of Portland.

She had a black Lumina with grey interior. She seemed to know the fastest way everywhere. Conversation in the car was very stale until somehow Eilenn brought up occupations in an entirely Not-small-talk context. She was a psychologist, a very well-paid psychologist. Had I been the one in the front seat instead of Elspeth, the conversation may have ended there; I became visibly ill at the thought. I liked this lady and knew I should like her still, occupation disregarded. I had formulated a mantra concerning that -- 'not what she does, but who she is' -- and was whispering it quietly to myself when Elspeth yanked me back to attention by asking if I'd heard Eilenn's question. I replied no I hadn't.

"Eilenn asked you what you do for a living." Elspeth's manner was at ease. She liked Eilenn as well. I wondered what Elspeth had told Eilenn concerning her own occupation. Oh well.

"I've been on sabbatical since last fall," I replied. "Besides, I don't DO anything; I just AM things." The mantra's effect on me.

"Well, what ARE you, then," Eilenn persisted. One thing about Eilenn was that she's mercilessly relentless. Even when it seems she's digressed from or forgotten an issue, be darn certain she's merely probing out issues she feels are related -- then it's back at your throat for direct answers. I could tell that about her right away, which is why I'd chosen to bluntly answer her until now. Elspeth had decided on this same directness, as if to answer for her perception of my previous 'rudeness'. She had fallen prey to Eilenn's piercing deductions only once before deciding it.

"I am between jobs, as far as gainful employment goes. For most of the rest, I am a recalcitrant exorcist and spiritist. And -- since I know you'll be asking in a second -- the rest of the rest of it has me being a dilettante, bum, and/or runaway." The sum total of me. I amazed myself with how little I really added up to.

She paused. It was an unusual silence, but it was not empty. "You've run away?" She sounded concerned. And then she added -- stone me; she sounded hesitant to say it, "You have a great reputation in the Netherworld, Crystalise -- I mean Rachel. I have heard stories of you which must have taken place in the sixties of earth. That means alot... I imagine you're life has not been long enough to hold much more. What could YOU have possibly found to run from?"

Sixties? I'd need a calculator to be certain, but I think I was three years old in 1970. "I have no response to that," it was weak. I knew it would be questioned. "Let's just say that I'm 'on disobeyance' right now." Quick, change the subject. "Sixties? What could you have heard from the sixties?"

"Stories ... metaphors, I think. Of a fire in heaven, of a quest, of a decision. Vague, mystical stories about you and your heritage. Almost unique for your clan. Feared in your birth and failed attempts to control your uncharacteristic nature. Let me guess; you were born in the seventies." Her tone was the apologetic, of the 'astral information can be easily misinterpreted' variety. We all knew this fact concerning the translation of astral events to any physical timetable. Hers was the voice of someone repeating a drilled statement, much as a person in high school will repeat the alphabet he or she learned in gradeschool.

"Late sixties. I think I've heard those stories, too," I commented. Elspeth looked at me. Apparently she had heard something too, though maybe not matching Eilenn's descriptions. "I'm so special!" I added sarcastically.

There was silence. It was uncomfortable. I took the opportunity to cross-examine Mistress Psychology, "The Votralunde Clan... . The ones who caused the rumors of Atlantis, right? I mean, unless there really WAS an Atlantis. I wouldn't Know, as you may understand, because I'm not a Votralunde." Pause. "And the Votralunde Clan was diminishing ... hmm ... I can't quite remember why."

"Well, we never claimed to be From Atlantis. We have simply taken a stand concerning its existence. But, you mustn't forget about Amazons and Valkyerie. Also, Druid Priestesses -- which, incidentallly, the scholars still have not got the first real clue about -- the Lady of the Lake, the Isle of Dreams, Witches in general, and assorted others. Yes, our reputation has become that of feminist lesbians. Which could make easy work of an explanation as to why no one new has been born to the Clan. But, in truth, no one -- woman or otherwise -- has ever been born into the Votralunde Clan. We choose. Astral birth is an accident most times, and should not carry an essential statement of verification with it. You know that, if no one else does.

"Our Clan has diminished because the elders have wandered off without bothering to locate or train the next generation. And," she added as The Most Important Point, "That includes the male members, of which there have always been quite a few." Brief pause, "It may interest both of you to know that I have always remembered my previous life as well as the time spent between." She received the appropriate sounds and gestures of surprise from Elspeth.

No good trying to change the subject, lady. "So it falls to you most personally to carry on the line." I impressed upon her my concern for her Clan's plight. No need to pretend that. Most people ignored the reality of the Astral, even in the modern New Age world. I was different. Eilenn was in a difficult situation.

"Haven't found a good candidate in at least two hundred years, Crystalise -- I mean Rachel. No offense, but you're an Amiajaa; can't possibly ever consider you... self-exile or not. Both of us would be killed by your kin, regardless of your reputation among them."

"I wasn't asking." The Votralunde were known for their eccentricities and astounding talents. As I was well aware that the Amiajaa were known for cruelty and misuse of power. Still, it was a pity that they were 'extinct' in the word of a member.

"I'd ask, if I thought I could ," Elspeth said. "Except that I've got way too many things on my plate as it is."

Eilenn shot a smile Elspeth's way, "I'd expect that from a Trevante." We all laughed at the obvious comment in such an unlikely conversation.

Eilenn quickly became an integral part of my existence. I don't know if she figured out what I was to be doing in Castle Rock. That first series of conversations was not repeated. She seemed uninterested in direct conversation about the astral. But everything about her screamed of her experience, intelligence and otherworldliness. Eilenn's mystique. It was Eilenn who helped us find the root of the strangeness. We would have gotten there on our own, by a more circuitous route. In about a hundred thousand years.

The core of the difficulty at first seemed to be an elusive, unidentifyable-other sort of practice springing up from the ruins of ancient myth. Digging around in the dust of what we've done to resurrect unsavory memories and do whatever to whoever whenever forever. It felt a little more than suspicious until Eilenn Herself pointed out the majority of lofty ideals found within the ancient traditions. Of wellness replete, holistic understandings, guidance administered through subtlety and unabashed loyalty. The few, the proud, the Druids. It all made sense immediately. Woof.

So, they were on the move again. Small hope of coming to know or interpret this sect's specific bylaws. Nigh unto no hope of actively seeking them out to sound them out. Still, I was glad to see that someone somewhere somehow remembered something to draw them out again. I've always known that I am not cut of the same stuff as a Verily Druid. We knew at once that we could not seek confirmation on whether this group developing contained what we would consider real or realistic Druids. We wondered at their decision to withhold books, though most assuredly they could not be all to blame. However, we persistendly wondered because the situation within the pagan communities at large seemed an obvious byproduct of such public access raids ... the confusion and desperation which had gone on before our eyes in Castle Rock. Like signs of the apocalypse were the books becoming "lost", everyone on nightwatch waiting ... waiting for whatever oppressive force to emerge from the perceived deepening dark. Lack of the written word in our society breeds contempt and fear among the literate masses. How could they have missed this impact? As stocks will plummet when stocks are plummeting, so will otherwise well-meaning pagans rape libraries once books begin to be lost. We were then restful concerning the unrest of the community in Castle Rock. Should that community choose to seek answers, they, too would be calmed. It had gone beyond the realm of "our business" to guard this generation in such ways. They would fail or they would not. It had become a decision of their own collective wisdom.

Loki returned home much aglow with the vitality that his work brought to him, and the love of Elspeth enhanced this in his spirit. Eilenn never met him directly. They were together and gone with Siochanain and Donnell well before anyone had a chance to rub two warm thoughts together. I had been warned. I stayed in the affected area, though Castle Rock immediately became scenery. I moved to Oregon. My purpose had not truly changed, neither had my desire to remain in the land of the Silicon Forest.

Eilenn stayed close, and I shortly overcame my great distrust of psychology itself. In fact, I have discovered that magic and psychology can and will and do catalyze each other in many significant and viable ways. The person of Dr Cameron, those people of judgmental status practicing heartily judgemental psychology, have become the people to steer clear of -- psychology misapplied is at least as destructive and far reaching as magic misapplied. The "incidental" death of Nicodeemus haunts me as a friendly spirit, guiding me toward those actions which would honor him -- thus to honor the world that Nicodeemus saw as fun and meaningful; the world containing me. I do love him. I will always. And I have chosen to love him with my life, not with my infirmity.

With Eilenn's careful assistance, I have been able to admit to many old wounds, and I am now powerful again in my soul. I am unabridged and not yet finished. The person Siochanain saw, Loki prophecied, Beth loves, and Thomas sought to destroy is ready to partake of the beginning of her Eternity.