New Beginnings
Chapter 3

Over the next few months, Helga’s relationship with Rowena did not improve in the least, despite Helga’s best attempts. Rowena was not overtly hostile, nor did she ever say anything nasty to or about her cousin. However, her icy stares and cold tone made it all too apparent that Hegla was an unwelcome presence in the Glen. All overtures of friendship were ignored.

Rowena missed no opportunity to show her superiority over Helga. Despite Helga’s progress, which Rhiannon said was remarkable, Rowena had far greater skill with the Gift, the special affinity for ancient magic only found among the Priestesses of the Raven. When the girls were given wands, Helga used hers to help cast difficult spells. Rowena never looked at hers, save for when she attached it to her belt every morning.

There was only one area where Helga was not in direct competition with Rowena, training with Muggle weapons. Rowena was an arrow maiden, adept with a bow. She could hit any target no matter how uncertain her aim seemed. Helga, on the other hand, was skilled with the long spear. Her broad shoulders, strong upper body, and inner magic allowed her to throw the spear easily and with deadly accuracy. She worked hard, hours a day, trying to perfect her technique. She grew attached to her spear. Rowena had plenty of arrows and could always make more from loose branches, but Helga only used one spear, an ancient one brought by Athena, one of the original Priestesses of the Raven. All the other weapons Athena brought were lost to the centuries, but this one remained. Its handle was sleek and dark, almost black, but the head still glistened despite its age. On both sides of the head the image of a raven in flight was etched into the metal.

Helga was determined not to lose her spear. As she learned more complicated magic, she wove a charm into the weapon. It would always return to her hand after it hit its target. She laughed to herself, thinking how her spear was now the most loyal ever to be created. She carved a little badger, her favorite animal, on the body, marking it as hers alone.

She told neither Rhiannon nor (especially not) Modron about her charm. Modron scared Helga, and she was certain the older woman wanted it like that. Modron got up each morning before the dawn and left the hut, not talking to anyone. Very rarely did she watch Rhiannon train Rowena and Helga. She would not return until after her daughter and granddaughters had gone to sleep. Those were the good days.

Far worse were the days she stayed to watch or (worse still) train her granddaughters herself. Modron demanded nothing less than perfection. Mistakes were not tolerated. Whenever one of the girls lost her concentration, Modron would snarl and yell. In those moments Helga understood why her mother fled the Glen and changed her name. Even Rhiannon would avert her face. But if Rowena erred, something even more terrifying happened. Rowena would walk up to Modron and stare directly into her eyes. Modron would turn red with fury, but Rowena would not turn away. Helga watched in awe, afraid of her cousin not her grandmother. Rowena reminded Helga of the ancient priestesses or even the All-Mother herself. Modron always backed down. A mysterious half-smile played on the old woman’s mouth.

As time passed, Rowena became even more hostile toward Helga. Perhaps because of her talent with the spear, or maybe because Helga had developed an ability to listen with the Gift in addition to the Sight, a rarity for a Priestesses of the Raven. Helga was uncertain why Rowena’s mood became darker, but now she was no longer content to merely show Helga up ­ she had to humiliate her abilities. And after she succeeded, she turned to Helga and said, “You don’t belong here.”

Helga felt more uncomfortable when Modron started to sequester Rowena for private conversations. Occasionally Rhiannon joined them, but more often than not she stayed behind and talked to Helga. It was during those times Helga felt like she had a friend. After the meeting, Rowena would see the two of them together, glare at Helga, and storm off.

One night Helga was awakened by a scream. She looked around. Neither Modron nor Rhiannon was disturbed. Helga heard the scream again. No one moved. This time she understood ­ she was hearing the sound in her mind, her special gift. She was unsure exactly who it was. No stranger could enter the Glen. Perhaps one of the forest animals was hurt and she was hearing its pain. Helga went to find it. She took her sheet, in case she needed to wrap a wound.

She did not get far. As soon as she left the hut she saw Rowena sitting outside, her back to the door. She turned her head toward Helga, and then wordlessly turned away again. There were tears in her eyes. Helga was taken aback; Rowena never cried. She understood that the silent screams came from Rowena. Helga put the sheet around her cousin’s shoulders. At first Rowena stiffened. Then she grasped at it and pulled it around her. They were silent for a little while.

“I’m not telling you what’s wrong,” Rowena said with as much dignity as she could muster.

“I wasn’t going to ask,” responded Helga quietly.

The two girls sat in silence for hours, gazing at the stars above the Glen, neither one looking at the other. Finally Rowena got up and draped the blanket across Helga’s legs.

“Thank you,” she said. It was the first kind words Helga ever heard her say.

Rowena went back inside the hut. Helga stayed out all night and at dawn, watched the sun climb over the treetops.