When the workday was over, Dema picked Cern up at his apartment and drove to her place. On the way she asked, "Did you get many comments on the torc?"

"I got some looks, but a lot of guys wear similar things nowadays, so not many comments. 

"Except for one of the office girls who spotted it and couldn't wait to talk to me. Said she didn't know I was into new age. Put her leg up on my desk to show me a silver torc she wears on her ankle. Invited me up to her place for some channeling. 

"With all this new awareness I could tell she was dead serious. She was thinking I might be the soul mate she's been hoping to find. No, destined to find. It was all I could do to get rid of her. I ended up telling her I was seeing a shaman. Her eyes got big, she said, No, really? and wandered off in a state of awe."

"I hope you didn't mention my name. I like to keep people thinking what I do is sheer talent."

"Hadn't thought of that. I've been insisting what I do is sheer talent for a long time. Now I find out there's more to it than I knew."

"Just wait 'til you meet Sedna."

When they arrived at the town house, she led him into the sitting room and introduced him.

"Sedna, this is Cern."

"Short for Cernunnos."

Cern was about to correct her and say, no, it's just Cern, but hesitated, because to his heightened awareness her flat statement had a strange ring of truth.

Dema sensed his puzzlement, and said, "Cernunnos? There was such a person?"

"In Celtic lore he is a god. The antlered god. The antlers give you away, Cern. Here, let me show you." 

She went to one of her many bookcases and started looking for something.

Cern looked at Dema with his eyebrows raised and whispered, "Antlers?"

She looked back at him, not knowing what to say, feeling almost as confused as he looked. "I didn't want to say anything, because I realized you didn't know. But you have antlers, Cern, a great rack of stag-horns. It's an illusion, but it got much stronger when you put on the torc. Most people won't see them, but I do, and apparently Sedna does too."

Sedna came back to them, carrying a rather large book. She had it open to an illustration, a picture of a large, highly decorated cauldron that appeared to be made of silver. Sedna pointed to a second illustration that showed a detail from the inside surface. It depicted a man seated cross-legged. He wore a torc on his neck, and he had antlers.

"It's called the Gundestrup cauldron, after a hamlet in Denmark near the peat bog where it was discovered. It dates back to about the first century B.C. The stag-horned man is the most well known of the decorations on it."

Cern studied it closely, and Dema could feel his awareness expanding again, feel him sensing a connection. He said, "I see a torc on his neck, and another one in his right hand. But what's the long things he's holding with his left hand here?"

"It's a snake. The stag-horned man is always pictured with a snake." As she realized what she was saying, Sedna's face lost all expression. Her eyes drifted to Dema and went wide with wonder.

Dema wasn't there anymore. For a moment, she was transported to an ancient forest, and felt the powerful presence of the stag-horned man who ruled there. Ruled with a sense of justice and compassion that brooked no deceit. A man with a compulsion to defend the innocent that rivaled her own. A man who had accepted her as his equal, and had welcomed her into his domain.

Dema recovered enough to stagger to a chair.

Sedna was staring first at the picture, then at the two of them. "I didn't know," she whispered. "I've looked at this picture a hundred times, and never once made the connection. But there is a connection. A very deep one."

Cern looked at Dema, then at Sedna. "You're saying Dema is the snake?"

"The Lamia," said Dema. "I am the Lamia."

Cern said, "But in the poem..."

"Forget the poem. It's pretty, but contrived. As far from the underlying truth as most mythology. The real Lamia was a shaman, and that's what I am."

"And the snake part?"

Dema hesitated. "Some shamans can take on the forms of animals..."

Sedna said, "Go ahead, Dema. Show him."

Still hesitant, Dema looked at Sedna, then at Cern, who had a puzzled but expectant look on his face. Then she opened herself to her snake dream, and changed. 

In her sixteen foot long snake form she slowly slid off the chair and wound around behind and between Cern and Sedna, then went back to the chair and coiled up in the seat.

She changed back. "That's how the myth of the Lamia began. The original Lamia shifted into snake form in defense of her tribe."

"We Culvers are a matriarchal line," Sedna told him. "The old meaning of Culver is people of the snake, and we go by that name to honor our heritage."