Two pairs of green eyes met, one doubtful, one sure.

 "You look nervous," Chatoya noted, surprised at the depth of hesitation that showed in her boyfriend's eyes. She was so used to Jepar Jubatus's effortless confidence that when it vanished, she was reminded he was only a few months older than her, and nowhere near as experienced in what they were about to do.

 He shifted from foot to foot, edgy as cat dancing over hot tiles.

 "I've never done this before," confessed Jepar.

 She blinked. Of all people... He was the child of a prominent Nightworld family, eminently marriageable - or he had been until he'd been exiled from his family. Surely he'd done it at least once, if only for political reasons?

"Never? But...I thought..."

 Her voice stuttered out, and Chatoya could feel heat creeping up her face. The first time always held an unforgettable intimacy: those tender gestures had curious significance, a freshness that would never again be felt.

 It had been two years ago, her first time, stripped bare beneath a bruised sky. She had been drawn down into the flesh-veiled mysteries of her very self, recalling fingers brushing her skin with infinite care, the taste of salt on her lips, kneeling before the prickly heat that made sweat bead on her skin.

 She had crossed a threshold that night, and she would never return.

 Would it have been different if she'd waited - would her life have changed in some indescribable way? She could not decide, but she toyed with the thought from time to time. Afterwards, her perceptions were coloured by her knowledge, her eyes brushing over strangers and wondering - have they? Do they know? Did they burn in a dark night, learning the motions of their heart?

 It was witchcraft at its truest: parting the worlds with a touch light as rain, wedding heart and soul and body to welcome in the summer.

 Jepar made some vague gestures, obviously uncomfortable. "Well, you know, I was going to once, with Vanira, but my parents caught on. My dad decided to give me one of those little talks..."

 Ah, those talks, where both child and parent tiptoed around delicate subjects. "My parents couldn't really stop me. After all, they'd done it when they were my age - it wasn't as if they had a leg to stand on."

 "As far as I know, there isn't much standing involved," he quipped, and she had to smile at the mixture of mischief and discomfiture in his eyes, that beguiling green.

"Sometimes there is," she replied, "It's all a matter of taste."

 "And mine's excellent," Jepar proclaimed, shedding his awkwardness like a coat he'd outgrown. That sunny smile, wide and bright, matched the morning sky and in it, she saw the promise of summer more truly than in any of the spring flowers that dotted the path. "Just look at the company I keep!"

 "You're lucky no one else is around to hear that," she said as they followed the trail out into the hills. She shifted the rucksack on her back. "Cougar would be vomiting in the corner right about now."

 "Which is why he isn't here. This is one occasion where he's definitely not allowed." The shapeshifter gave a theatrical shudder. "Romance just isn't his thing."

 She had to agree on that. Cougar's last attempt at romance had ended with him hopping around the room, hands clutching his shin. His dignity hadn't recovered yet, having been bruised rather more permanently than his leg.

 "It would help if he thought before he spoke," she murmured.

 "He's a Redfern. They're used to getting a round of applause every time they open their mouths. It's going to take more than a few months with us before that changes."

 Maybe, and maybe not. She thought Cougar Redfern had already changed more than he knew, and under that snarling, arrogant exterior, there was someone quite likeable waiting to emerge.

 "Or a few more kicks in the shin," she agreed.

 "He's lucky it wasn't any higher," remarked Jepar, wincing. "If we ever disagree, promise me you'll find a different way to let me know?"

  A wicked thought occurred to her. Keeping her voice solemn, she said, "Well...usually when my boyfriends annoy me, I just do a little voodoo and stick pins in their-"

  His head snapped round. "You don't!" He sounded aghast.

 Innocent as an angel, Chatoya looked him straight in the eyes. "Well, they have to really upset me. It's a last resort. It's not as if it's going to grow back."

He gaped like a goldfish, then his eyes narrowed, unfairly piercing. "You're winding me up, aren't you?"

She let the pause drag out, then unable to help herself, started to giggle. "Of course I am."

 "Witch," he grumbled, shooting her a mock-angry glance. "I'll make you sorry for that."

 All the same, he slid an arm around her waist, and his mouth curved into a smile. In step, they carried on up the path under the sinking sun, and she realised this was how she'd always wanted Beltane to be; walking the path together to find what the future would hold, never looking back.

~*~

 Dusk had come by the time they reached the plateau, and beneath the sullen sky, the world was painted in hues of grey and blue. A flat circle halfway up the hills, it was tufted with sparse grass, and had a breathtaking view of Ryars Valley, all nebulous curves and glittering lights in the dark. Orion hung above, a warrior picked out in stars, and beside her, her own warrior moved easily through the shadows.

 Jepar had fought for her, though his weapons had been nothing mightier than words and affection.

 They never spoke of it, but all the same, it was an invisible layer underpinning their burgeoning relationship. Part of her wished he had not had to fight for her; the shame was always with her, a stark reminder that cruel deeds could done as easily from neglect as from intent. But...

 But if he hadn't chased her, if he hadn't faced her down, would they be as close? Would he be here with her now, submitting himself to the intimacy of shared magic?

 "Stop worrying. That's my job, not yours."

 She glanced across, and he was watching her with his head on one side.

 "I just want to make sure everything's perfect," she answered.

  She had prepared everything the night before; the fire was laid, waiting to be kindled, and the circle was drawn out with a small break in one corner for them to enter, a thin line of salt that gleamed under the dull light. Beyond that, she needed nothing more than herself and her craft. Chatoya beckoned him into the circle. A soft breeze lifted her hair, but it wouldn't be enough to put out the fire.

 He stepped through the gap, and stood inside the circle shifting from foot to foot. "What do I do?"

 Rummaging in her rucksack, she dug out the lighter fluid and matches; Jepar caught them deftly. "Put those hunter-gatherer skills to use, then get comfortable. I need to close the wards."

 She emptied her rucksack onto the ground; a bottle of salt water fell out, as well as the food they'd packed earlier and a small pouch; this, she kept hold of. It was the work of minutes to seal the protective circle, pouring her power into it until she could feel it on her senses, a vibrant green hemisphere that extended around and above them.

 By that time, the fire was crackling away and the last of the lighter fluid had burned off. A pool of orange light extended across the plateau and remade Jepar in gold and red, her own personal Sphinx.

 Other fires would be burning across the valley as the witches gathered to celebrate Beltane, and she wished them glad tidings and good times to come. It was this fire that concerned her now, though; this fire, and this boy.

 She sat down next to Jepar, and opened the pouch. The jewellery inside was one of her most treasured possessions. It wasn't particularly valuable, but it had been made expressly for her, and made with love.

 The necklace was a thin silver choker, strung with green jasper and jade, with chunks of moonstone at either end. The bracelet was similar, but the moonstone was replaced by azurite. She didn't have much affinity with gems, but these had been keyed to her, moulded to the shape of her magic as carefully as a tailor pinning clothes.

 She slipped them on, holding her wrist out to Jepar so he could fasten the catch. As he touched the bracelet, he started as if he'd had an electric shock.

 "Wow," he breathed, the firelight flickering eerily on his face. "Someone put a lot of effort into those if I can pick up the power."

 "My parents." When she wore it, she thought she could feel the echoes of their magic in it, maybe even something of their love, though that was probably just her imagination. She thought they would be proud of her now, if a little dubious about the boy next to her. "They bought it for my first Beltane."

 "What do you use it for?" His eyes drank down the firelight, throwing it back in shadowy green.

 "Beltane rituals are different for everyone, but in my family, it was always a time when the winter ended and we look forward to the summer and the next year. It's a time for the future, for looking at the best of your life. And when we can reach from life into the future and see what might be."

 "But what if..." He hesitated. "What if there's nothing good in your future? What if there's just..."

 She saw the fear in his expression and in his tensed body.

 "You think that even in the worst time of your life there won't be one good moment? One instant when you can't see past it all, past the drama and the sadness and the regret? It won't be like a movie, Jepar, it's just flashes of things, but everything you see is always good."

 She didn't tell him, but when she first looked through time, staring down tomorrow, she had seen a glimpse of green - a deep, calm colour that she had thought at the time had to be water, or maybe the emerald on her mother's wedding ring. Now she rather thought she had been looking into a then-unknown face, never dreaming it would bring her to this moment.

 "Aren't you frightened, though?" he asked, a strange note in his voice. He reached for her hand, and his grip was tight and urgent. "Doesn't it mean the future's all set out, that everything's already been decided?"

 She shook her head. "I was scared the first time. But...not everything I saw has happened. Seeing the future isn't certain, all you see is what's most likely. My mother always said that it was something to let you know that good times were ahead - that you would never experience everything you'd glimpsed on Beltane, so it always gave you something to hope for."

 Even if hope was just the colour green, or fingers squeezing hers on a cool night.

 He only watched her for a long moment as if he was trying to read the truth in her face. He was struggling with himself, she realised, and he was afraid, as she had been. To open yourself up to strange magic was no small thing, even when the voice that spoke the spells had spoken your name with tenderness in different circumstances.

 "All right," he said finally, his thumb stroking along her fingers. Jepar took a deep breath. "Initiate me into the wisdoms of the world, O witch. But be gentle - it's my first time." He even dredged up a watery smile, and she felt a rush of warmth for him.

 The ceremony itself was simple; most of the spells were inlaid into her jewellery, released with a few words and gestures. They sat face to face beside the fire, her left side prickling with heat, her right side cool as marble.

 Gently, she daubed his face with salt water, his forehead, his eyelids. As she ran a finger across his lips, he exhaled, and a hot intensity slid into his eyes. In that moment, witch, she was aware of the still night and the rustling of the flames, reflected in his pupils.

 More salt water on his palms, and at the base of his throat.

 She mirrored the actions on herself, and the air took on the crisp smell of the sea, tinged with smoke.

 The magic welled up into her body with eagerness, shining threads of green and pale blue, drawn by the jewellery. She lifted his palms and kissed it, sending out her power at the same time. Her mouth and magic were imprinted on his skin.

 Like a pilgrim retracing her steps, she marked him with her lips and her magic; palm and throat, and there he shivered, his muscles taut with more than arcane ceremony.

 The brush of her lips on his forehead seemed like absolution; that soft kisses she dropped on his eyelids spoke of reverence, and when she leaned forward and kissed his mouth, the tangle of lips and teeth and tongues lasted long after her magic had sunk beneath his skin.

 When she drew back, her mouth still tingled, and there was a warmth to her face that the fire hadn't put there.

 Goddess...yes, that was why so many witches met at Beltane, when the motions that were archaic and dry on paper became raw and real, flesh to flesh, separated only by air.

 "I think I've been missing out," he said in a voice that was suspiciously husky.

 "Let that be a lesson," she muttered. Her heartbeat was beginning to slow, and she drew in long breaths, calling the words and motions to mind.

 "I'll happily learn it," Jepar replied, lit by a brilliant, feline grin. At least his nerves seemed to have vanished, though his smile dimmed as she mimed silence to him. "What now?"

 She turned towards the flames and took his hands, twining her fingers into his. If his grip was tight, she pretended not to notice. "Look into the fire, and wait."

 "That's all?"

 "That's all," she reassured.

 At first he stared avidly, as if he thought the future would fly from the flames like a phoenix, drawing truth from ashes. As time passed, his determined squint relaxed, and he settled into a more natural expression.

More used to the wait, she found a comfortable position, and let her eyes adjust to the light. With her vision fixed on the blaze, the surrounding darkness seemed to envelop them, dark and plush as moleskin, edging ever closer.

 Orange and yellow and at the core, a faint electric blue; the flames licked at the air, nothing more than commonplace chemistry-

 Jepar jumped, a shocked gasp escaping him. He swayed forward, intent.

 Before her, colours began to appear: patches shone and then vanished. Soon, she knew, they would coalesce into a blur of visions, and despite herself, impatience made her twitch her hand in Jepar's, hungering to know.

 "Oh my god!" she heard Jepar hiss behind her, and then she paid no more attention as shapes leapt from the Beltane fires, flashing fast as a strobe light.

 A profile she recognised as Cougar Redfern, hair slicked down with the water that streamed off his nose and ears, eyes a swirl of gold.

 A boy she didn't know, on one knee with a box of chocolates, grinning like a maniac. Snub features, hand on heart was all she caught before-

 Lisa was showing off a bright yellow dress, twirling like a catwalk model. Beside her, Jepar, face subtly different - older, perhaps? - and dressed to the nines in a tuxedo that made him look like he'd stepped straight from a fifties soiree.  

  Emerald green, no mistaking what it was this time, deep and cool and clear.

 A glimpse of the sea on a dark night, the sky beaded with stars whose reflections wavered in the water below. She watched it from a white-painted balcony and a hand rested on hers-

 She was sat around a table with all her friends and a number of faces she didn't know, people caught mid-mouthful, drinking, laughing - one girl was flicking peas at Cougar - while a Christmas Tree stood in the corner.

 A blast of azure: the bright, searing colour of the sky just before the first hints of sunlight struck it. A clear and cloudless sky, this one, unmarred by so much as a wisp of weather. Winter, she thought, and a beautiful one. It's either that or it's Blue, and I know he's going to bring me nothing good.

 A glimpse of snow and dark bushes over someone's shoulder. She wondered who it was who was obviously holding her...

 And the scene was replaced by her bedroom, though it was a different colour and the furniture had been moved around. She gazed over someone's body - someone's naked chest, oddly pale and bisected by a ragged scar. How racy, she thought, amused.

 A man knelt in front of her, but on her eye-level; she had to be kneeling too. His hands seemed to cup her face, and he had the saddest eyes she had ever seen - but his wide clown's mouth was turned up in a charming and soft smile. A landscape behind him, but the scene was fading, separating into its constituent colours...

 As the pictures dissolved into rainbow rubble, she sat back, feeling an urge to clap and scream and shout. Parties, new friends, old friends, sunny days, snow, an assortment of intriguing encounters with strangers.

 "Fantastic," she breathed, fingers flexing on Jepar's hand. Flushed, eager, she turned to him to find he was wearing an equally idiotic grin. "What did you see?"

 "All sorts of stuff!" he said gleefully. "We're going to go windsurfing, and I think there's new people showing up, and Cougar's going to throw stuff, but it'll be fun. And I saw some brown and grey, and the top of a mountain, and I think I saw the Taj Mahal!"

 They spent several minutes swapping their futures, trying to match details, though she kept one or two of the scenes to herself. She didn't think telling her current boyfriend about some naked man who didn't look like him was a good idea.

 Finally, the pace of their revelations slowed, and Jepar did a little jig from where he was sat, using the kind of hand motions she'd only ever seen in Night Fever. "This was the best idea you've ever had," he announced. "There's so much to look forward to!"

 "Know what's even better?" she prompted.

 "Uh...if there'd been free ice-cream?"

 She thought about it. "Mmm. No. We're all there - nothing bad happens to any of us!"

 Jepar put his hands together. "No more serial killers."

 "No more dragons," she added.

 "No more deaths."

 "No more psychos."

 "No more trouble," he finished with a happy sigh. "Except for the kind where Cougar throws things. But that's normal trouble."

 "So..." she began, slinging a sideways glance at him. "How was your first time?"

 He put a hand to his head, eyes to the sky like a holy roller. "Unforgettable."

Lyrics from Norweigan Wood by The Beatles.