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As they passed the fountain and followed the cobbled stone path from the center courtyard, Issylte noticed three gray stone buildings extending in a long row to the left.

Each building stood two stories high, with windows opening onto the fountain in the central courtyard.

Viviane gestured to them and explained, “These are the residences for acolytes, such as yourself, who have come to study the healing arts here in Avalon. We have the capacity to house four women in each of these three residences. Although we can accommodate twelve, we currently have only eight—now that you have joined us.”

Nyda and Cléo entered the farthest of the three buildings, with Viviane and Issylte close behind.

A central stairway led to the two quarters on the upper floor.

On the ground floor to the left, an entrance door led to an acolyte’s chamber.

Issylte followed Viviane and the two priestesses down the long corridor to the entrance on the far right.

Viviane led Issylte into her new quarters.

“This will be your room,” she said, indicating a spacious chamber with two large windows on opposite ends.

One faced the fountain to the east; the other looked upon the lake to the west. The setting sun basked the room in a golden glow which shimmered on the ripples of the lily strewn water.

A small night table was placed beside a comfortable bed on the wall opposite the entry door. A large wooden armoire stood beside the window near the lake; a large table and chair were centered under the eastern window, offering a spectacular view of the fountain.

“The morning sun will shine in this eastern window, making the fountain sparkle with light,” Viviane said cheerfully. She turned to the west. “And the setting sun reflects off le Lac de Diane from this window.” The Lady of the Lake beamed. “You will be enlightened by the Goddess every day.”

Retuning Viviane’s bright smile, Issylte brought her attention back to the details of the room.

A small table sat in the corner, holding a candle, a pitcher, and a basin, with a chamber pot on the floor underneath.

Nyda and Cléo stood near the window by the lake, waiting patiently for Viviane to finish showing Issylte the features of her new residence.

The Lady of the Lake opened the door to the armoire, which held several light blue garments, extra linens for the bed, a bar of soap, and several small jars of ointments.

The High Priestess gestured to the clothing on the shelf.

“As an acolyte, you will wear one of these light blue robes, and a soft white chemise as an undergarment.” Indicating the soap and jars on the shelf, she explained, “Nyda and Cléo will show you where the baths are located. Each morning, the priestesses wash in the sacred spring, and use soaps, such as this one,” she said, holding up the bar and inhaling its fragrance, “which is made from our jasmine flowers. Mmmm,” she murmured contentedly, smiling at Issylte.

“The priestesses make our soap, as well as ointments, such as these,” Viviane continued, holding up one of the jars. “We extract delicate oils from the flowers and make salves which are wonderful for our skin. And essential for healing many of the wounds which we treat here at Le Centre .”

Viviane turned to Nyda and Cléo. “I am certain Lilée would like to wash after her long sea voyage and rest before our evening meal. Please take her to the spring where she may bathe, and show her the dining area, where we’ll meet when the bells chime.”

The Lady of the Lake faced Issylte once again, giving her hands an affectionate squeeze.

“I am most pleased to welcome you to Avalon, Lilée. You’ll enhance your impressive knowledge of herbal medicine that you acquired with Maiwenn in the Hazelwood Forest. And learn the healing properties of water—and sacred gemstones—here in Avalon. ”

With a kiss on each of Issylte’s cheeks—the familiar French la bise that Maiwenn had always used —and a nod to her two priestesses, Viviane left the room with a smile. She crossed the courtyard, passed the spraying fountain, and headed back to the pristine white limestone walls of Le Centre .

Nyda, the smaller priestess with light brown hair, took a few items from the armoire and said to Issylte, “Come with us. We’ll show you where to bathe.

After that, we’ll return here to deposit your things, and you can let us know if you prefer to rest until supper or walk around Le Centre a bit more.

” She gestured with her head, inviting Issylte to follow. “This way.”

The bathing area was to the north, adjacent to Issylte’s acolyte residence.

A freshwater spring, fed from the same underground source as the central fountain, bubbled into a large pool, encircled by smooth, flat stones.

A high stone wall, covered with jasmine vines in bloom, surrounded the bathing area and ensured privacy.

Cléo said cheerfully, “Here’s a clean white chemise and light blue acolyte’s robe to put on when you’ve finished bathing. ”

She set down a bar of soap and a towel on one of the flat stones.

“This jasmine soap will wash the salt from your hair after the long sea voyage.” With a soft smile, the dark-haired priestess crooned, “The water of the spring is rich in minerals from the earth, which your body and hair will absorb. When you emerge from the water, your skin will tingle, and you will feel rejuvenated. That’s why it’s called la Fontaine de Jouvence. ”

Nyda said, indicating with her head, “We’ll wait for you just over there, on one of the benches by the fountain. Take your time and enjoy the sacred waters of the Goddess.” The two women left Issylte to bathe in the cool, bubbling spring.

As she slipped into the gurgling water, Issylte remembered the delightful pool where she’d bathed near Maiwenn’s cottage.

The waterfall and the clear stream which flowed into the grassy back yard.

Where Tatie cultivated her two gardens. Where Florette and the hens loved to drink.

The enormity of loss smothered her, and Issylte sobbed, letting the tears flow freely, a catharsis which cleansed her soul as the water of the spring washed away the brine of the sea.

When the well of her emotions finally ran dry, she dipped her head underwater and washed her long blond hair with the jasmine soap.

The floral fragrance was as sensual a delight as the cool kiss of water on her skin.

Emerging from the bath at last, she did indeed feel rejuvenated, her skin enriched by the nourishing minerals of the underground spring.

Issylte dried off with the towel Cléo had placed on the rock and dressed in the chemise and light blue acolyte’s robe.

She gathered her soiled clothing, the soap, and the damp towel, walking toward the fountain where the two priestesses waited for her with a welcoming smile.

“Doesn’t your skin feel alive ?” Nyda exuded, her eyes alight with pleasure.

“It does feel wonderful, just as you said,” Issylte agreed with a faint smile as she followed the cheerful priestesses back to her residence.

Nyda pointed to the table in the corner of her room.

“You may place your soiled clothing here, to be laundered by the village women that we employ here at Le Centre . They will change the linens on your bed each week and restock the supplies in your armoire.” With a warm smile, she added, “They take very good care of us, and we provide healing services and protection to all inhabitants of the island in return. We live in harmony, among ourselves, and with the earth.”

Cléo flashed her a bright grin. “Would you prefer some time to rest, or would you rather see more of your new surroundings?”

Issylte would cry miserably if left alone. “I’d prefer to walk around, please.” With the hint of a smile, she added softly, “Thank you both very much for your kindness.”

Nyda and Cléo took Issylte around Le Centre, showing her the residence where Viviane and the priestesses lived as well as the conservatory where patients convalesced with music.

They paused for a few moments at the doorway to the vast open room, listening to a priestess play the flute.

As she gazed out the window at the bubbling waters of the fountain, the melodic music made Issylte’s heart soar, lifting her spirits with its pure, crystalline notes.

Music is a powerful source of healing, too.

She spotted a magnificent golden harp in the corner of the room near the window. Perhaps I can learn to play one day.

They took her to the dining area, explaining how meals were served three times a day, announced by a chiming of bells. They visited the library, where priestesses and acolytes hovered studiously over manuscripts on smooth tables in front of rows and rows of precious books.

When Issylte arrived at the area where herbs were stored and processed, women were preparing ointments and salves, in much the same was Tatie had shown her in Ireland.

The crisp, clean scents of sage, chamomile, and rosemary filled her nostrils with nostalgia.

Her throat constricted; her heart felt clenched in a vise.

Swallowing the lump of sadness, Issylte followed the two priestesses to the room which housed the sacred stones.

Wooden shelves lined the walls of the enormous white room, where hundreds of brightly colored gemstones and sparkling crystals were laid upon pieces of cloth or stored in clear glass containers.

Brilliant rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and moonstones glistened in the afternoon light from windows at each end of the long rectangular room.

An aura of power emanated from the gems, calling to the verdant magic simmering in her soul.