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women say their lines, I ll point to you and you read Medea s invocation of
Hecate. He paused, took a pen from his shirt pocket and circled a paragraph
in the script. That stanza right there. Face the audience and try to speak as
slowly and clearly as possible. Got it?
Mikki nodded.
Great. He patted her shoulder absently before exiting the stage.
You ll be fine, one of the three ladies said, smiling at her. This is
easy-peasy.
I don t know, Mikki whispered back at her. I ve never invoked a goddess
before.
Hey, don t worry about it. You won t invoke one tonight unless you really are
Medea, the friendly looking woman said, still grinning.
Or unless you re one of Hecate s blood priestesses, another lady chimed in.
Or have delusions of grandeur and diva yourself into believing you re both.
All of the actresses rolled their eyes at the first woman s comment. Clearly
the absent lead actress had let the part go to her head.
Ready, ladies? the director called.
The four women sent her looks of encouragement as Mikki moved center stage to
her mark.
All right, let s get this done so we can go home. First Corinthian Woman,
start us out please.
The First Corinthian Woman s voice was strong and clear as she repeated the
lines Mikki had overheard earlier.
The holy fountains flow up from the earth
the smoke of sacrifice flows up from the earth,
the eagle and the wild swan fly up from the earth . . .
A little thrill tingled through Mikki s stomach, and her nervousness was
suddenly replaced by excitement. The actress s words seemed to fill the space
around her, chasing away her trepidation.
The Second Corinthian Woman spoke her lines earnestly to Mikki.
Women hate war, but men will wage it again.
Women may hate their husbands, and sons their fathers,
but women will never hate their own children.
Mikki s eyes followed the lines on the script as the First Woman s voice
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trembled with emotion.
But as for me, I will do good to my husband,
I will love my sons and daughters, and adore the gods.
From the edge of the stage Cio pointed to her, and like a horse goaded by
spurs, Mikki plunged into Medea s lines.
You will be quiet, you women.
You came to see how the barbarian woman endures betrayal;
watch and you will know.
On the script were written the words (Medea kneels and prays). Mikki glanced
questioningly at Cio. He nodded and gestured to the stage floor. Drawing a
deep breath, Mikki knelt and began reading the invocation.
Not for nothing I have worshipped the wild gray
goddess who walks in the dark, the wise one,
whose dominions are the crossroads of man, wild
beasts, and ancient secret magicks,
Hecate, sweet flower of the ebony moon.
As Mikki spoke, her voice gained power and the small electric thrill that had
lodged in her stomach when the First Corinthian Woman began to speak swelled
throughout her body. Excitement rushed, adrenaline-like, into her throat, so
that when she continued the invocation, her voice strengthened and magnified.
Had she been looking at the director, she would have seen him frantically
adjusting switches and turning dials. Had she glanced at the actresses onstage
with her, she would have seen their mildly amused expressions change to
confusion and shock. But Mikki looked nowhere except the script before her and
the words that suddenly appeared, glowing, on the page as if her voice had
called them alive.
Queen of Night, hear your errant priestess s prayer.
Forgive me that I have forgotten your ways.
Mikki faltered. The small, Band-Aid-covered cut on her palm throbbed
painfully. There was a great rushing sound in her ears that reminded her of
the ocean. She felt the night wind, which had only moments before been gentle
and cool, whip in a sudden heat around her, lifting her hair as if it, too,
along with her body, had been electrified. Caressed by the wind, the unusual
scent of the perfume she d dabbed on her pulse points lifted with the breeze
to fill her senses. She breathed deeply, inhaling rose and spice and heat.
Overwhelmed by the exquisite beauty of the rich oil, the glowing words on the
script blurred until Mikki could no longer see them. But it didn t matter.
Unbelievably, she heard the lines within her mind, and with a sob, she opened
her mouth and cried the words that were echoing through her head.
I call upon you now Hecate, by the blood that runs thick in my veins and ask
that you help me to return to your service and your realm so that I might once
again remember the use of the blood magick and the ancient beauty that is the
Realm of the Rose.
A great roar split the night, ringing in Mikki s ears with an intensity that
washed her in dizziness. She blinked tears from her eyes, looking around her
as if she had just awakened from a dream.
Ah, hell! I m having one of those damn episodes! Mikki frantically tried to
make sense of the bright lights and the women who were staring open-mouthed at
her. The play! Crap! Crap! Mikki looked down at the script she still clutched
in her sweating hands. The words printed there in ordinary black and white
made no sense. They weren t the lines she had just said. What the hell had
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happened to her?
Three single claps came from the rear of the stage.
Lovely job of ad-libbing. Truly moving. The voice was filled with sarcasm.
Mikki managed to get awkwardly to her feet as an attractive petite woman
wearing a gold toga and a long, dark wig stepped up to her.
But the star has returned. So I ll take my mike and my stage position, and
you can run along.
Mikki felt frozen with humiliation as the actress reached up to yank the
neatly hidden microphone from her hair.
Ouch! Fuck! the diva shrieked, pulling back her hand and sucking on her
bleeding finger. The damn thing stabbed me.
Woodenly, Mikki raised her hand to touch the rose that still sat behind her
ear.
Sorry, she muttered, quickly pulling the mike from her hair. Mikado Roses
don t usually have prominent thorns.
Catie, darling, it s all right. She was just helping us out with the sound
check. Cio rushed onstage.
Catie snatched the mike from Mikki and turned her back dismissively as the
sound manager hastily began working the tiny microphone into the hairline of
the star s wig.
Someone get me a Band-Aid before I bleed to death! And my God! What is that
smell? Who has on too fucking much perfume? It s like I m standing in the
middle of a bordello, not a stage. For Christ s sake! I leave for half a
second and everything goes to shit!
Two more people hurried onstage, and Mikki sidled off, ignoring the director
when he called insincere thanks and reminded her that she could pick up her
tickets opening night at the Garden Center.
CHAPTER SEVEN
IT took several minutes for Mikki s cheeks to cool down. She could easily
imagine the blazing red of her blush. Jeesh, what a humiliating experience!
She left the sidewalk and retreated up the side of the gently sloping hill
that would lead her to the uppermost entrance to the rose gardens. Shuffling
her feet through the dry leaves that browned the soft grass of the park, Mikki
tried to make sense of what had just happened. Everything had seemed fine even
fun when she d gone up onstage. Then she d started reading her lines and . . .
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