Her eyes rested briefly on the woman standing opposite her, inside the circle. Was this the current Lady of the Moon? She could see the glow of their magic, could see the waxing and waning of the gift within each woman, just as they could surely see it in her while they stood together in this place. There was strength in the woman standing on the other side of that globe of power, strength that was anchored to earth. But…She looked at the woman directly to her right. That woman also was anchored to earth, and while she wasn’t quite as strong as the woman inside the circle, her power was richer.

Puzzled, Selena turned slowly to look at the other women. More of them had power anchored to air or fire than earth or water. Neither air nor fire could channel the power that had been raised—at least, not without careful, extensive training—but they could have supported earth and water. Why hadn’t they?

And what were they waiting for?

She looked at the woman inside the circle, looked at the clenched hands and a face now hardened by hatred.

The test. Wasn’t there supposed to be some kind of test to see who would ascend to be the Lady of the Moon, the Huntress? When would it start? How was she to indicate she wanted to be part of that test? How…

The test, the Fae…everything had to wait. Because the point had been reached when the dance wouldn’t wait.

She walked forward, felt the air grow thick and heavy as she moved to the very center of the clearing, the very center of the power.

She didn’t know the dance for the moon. She knew the spiral dance and other ritual dances, but she’d always danced for the moon in her own way, for her own pleasure.

She looked at the other women. No one moved.

They don’t know how to do this. They don’t know how to dance to draw power into themselves and send it back out into the world. All right. A spiral dance, but not one that draws power to the center before being released. The power has already gathered, so the spiral has to go outward, giving the power a clear path to follow. So, a dance for the moon. Never changing, ever changing. Dancing around her older sister while the Great Mother moves through the seasons. Waxing moon. Waning moon. Full moon to dark of the moon. Merry meet, and merry part, and merry meet again…little sister.