The Meri

By Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff

A WOMAN ALONE IN A MAN'S WORLD OF MAGIC...

"Aye, that Mereddyd be Wicke, sure as Colfre is Cyne," said the townboy in a secret voice. "Brys ain't here today, and she's a' fault. It's his tongue, it is. Just flops between his teeth like a dying fish. He can't use it for naught."

Chilled to the bone, Mereddyd fled. She had thought it. She remembered thinking it: May you forget how to use your tongue, Brys-a-Lach.

Just that. Did that make her Wicke?

According to the Osraed Ealad-hach it did, for a female was forbidden to wield the powers tradition reserved for men alone.
There is only one way to prove her innocence: Mereddyd-a-Lagan must go on Pilgrimage to the Western Sea where a mysterious Being called the Meri will decide her fate. She will be the only female in one hundred years to attempt the journey, and she will remember, every step of the way, that the last young woman to challenge tradition never returned.

Will Mereddyd become Caraid-land's first female Osraed, or will she die a heretic's death in the icy Western Sea?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff
• Release date: Apr 18, 2013
• ISBN: 9780918736796

Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff

Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff is the award-winning author of short fiction whose work has appeared in publications such as Analog and Interzone. She has authored a number of Star Wars novels, including the New York Times bestseller The Last Jedi. She currently resides in San Jose, California.

Book preview

Dedication:

To my father, who fed my imagination much rich food.

Special thanks:

To my mother, whose only reaction was, Oh, Hank! You didn’t! And to the makers of those keen little nightlights that keep bug-eyed monsters at bay.

To my family: my husband Jeff Vader, All-Powerful God of Biscuits and Toast; my children — Alex, Kristine, and Amanda... and newest daughter, Nura Itzel (way to go, Alex!). To my God-family: Vern, Jan, Kaathlyn and Andrew, Zee, Chi, Erik ... and Heather who has gone on ahead. And to all those who believe in me even when I don’t.

To Stan Schmidt of Analog magazine for being my angel.

To Marc Scott Zicree for being an inspiration.

To Bill Evans for giving me an extra push.

And to Himself, for putting the love of writing in my soul.

Map of Carald-land

Detailed Map

Chapter 1

There is a bridge between the finite and the Infinite. This Bridge is the Meri, the Spirit of the Spirit of the Universe, which men call God. Nothing may cross that Bridge: neither day nor night, nor old age, nor death nor sorrow nor evil nor sin.

Only the pure of heart may cross that Bridge, because the world of the Spirit is pure. In the crossing of this Bridge, the eyes of the blind will see, the wounds of the ailing will be healed, and the sick Man will become whole.

To the crosser of the Bridge, the night becomes day, because in the world of Spirit there is everlasting Light.

— The Book of the Meri

Chapter I, Verses 34-36

It was not lost on Meredydd-a-Lagan that she was the only girl at Halig-liath. It was brought home to her every morning at Assemblage where she stood, front and center in the huge cobbled yard, Surrounded by the other Prentices—boys, all of them.

It hadn’t been so bad when she was younger; she had been almost indistinguishable then—cropped chestnut hair, tunic hung loosely on a slender, angular frame. But she was fifteen now, and in the last year, many things had grown apace with height and hair.

This morning was particularly bad; she felt completely alien, awkward and unwelcome. In the warmth of a fine spring morning, she stood out from the others like a briar among roses—her bare arms hairless, her light tunic betraying mounds and bends and curves no other Prentice possessed. She sensed eyes on her as they murmured their congregational prayers and prepared for a day of lessons.

She dared to glance up at the Osraed in their gallery high up on the imposing stone wall of the Academy. They were looking at her too—Ealad-hach, Calach and her guardian, Osraed Bevol. She got Osraed Bevol to meet her eyes and he smiled. She forgot her awkwardness in an instant and filed away with the others for classwork.

She’s gotten to be such a tall girl, said Osraed Calach. Taller than some of the boys.

She’s still a girl, Ealad-hach reminded him, and glanced at the silent, smiling Bevol. She will always be a girl. She should be training in the domestic arts. Training to be the wife of an Osraed and the mother of Prentices.

And why, asked Bevol, should she do that when she could become Osraed, herself? She has absolutely no talent for the domestic arts, Ealad. None. But she is already practicing the Divine Arts with some skill.

You should not let her practice.

Why not? You let your personal favorite practice and Meredydd has shown far more natural talent and inclination than he has.

Ealad-hach wrinkled his knife-blade nose.

Ah? Bevol pressed, pointing a finger at that oversized feature. Ah now, admit what you cannot deny. Meredydd is second to none in her class.

And it goes to her head. A bad condition for a girl.

"If it went to her head and if she were an ordinary child—of either sex—I would agree, but neither is true."

The Meri will not accept a female Prentice, you know that.

I know nothing of the sort. There is nothing in the Books that denies Prentice-ship to girls.

There is tradition—

Pah! Old folk tales, hearsay—

Osraed Calach cleared his throat. Do you intend to abandon your students in favor of this ancient argument?

Osraed Bevol smiled and wagged his head. Snow-streaked copper, his hair and beard rippled with the motion, cascading over the azure of his robe. I will never abandon my student, he said pointedly, and led the way from the gallery into the Academy.

o0o

Meredydd was not watching Aelder Prentice Wyth scratching illustrations of aislinn symbology on the whitewall. She was watching a spider apply warp and woof to the corner of an open window. The web had been taking shape for the entire morning and was nearly complete. Sunlight ran like blazing golden liquid down its pristine fibers—more delicate, more gleaming, more glorious than the finest silk. Meredydd imaged herself in a robe of the stuff—so fine and light.

She could see herself upon the sill, the size of a butterfly, lying back in the sleek, shining hammock, where bees would bring her nectar and ambrosia and the spider would play duans for her upon a harp of his own design. She could almost hear its song—light as down, shimmering, whispers of melody.

It was a shame, she thought, that the Arts didn’t run to miniaturization. Then again, maybe they did and it just wasn’t something the Prentices were permitted to know. After all, it wouldn’t do to have them practicing Shrinkweaves on each other. The thought made her grin.

Prentice Meredydd. Could you tell me what you are studying that you find my lesson beneath your notice?

She jumped quite nearly from her skin and blinked up into the Aelder’s stern face. Why—aislinn symbols, Aelder.

"Aye, that is what the rest of us were studying, cailin. But you, I think, were not." He straightened and turned toward the whitewall, and Meredydd thought how spiteful he was to remind her (and everyone else) that she was a girl.

Cailin, he called her—but only when Osraed Bevol was out of earshot. He had used the word once in the Osraed’s presence and Bevol had referred to him as boy for a fortnight, refusing to dignify him by using either his name or his title.

At the whitewall, now, stood Aelder Prentice Wyth and lifted a bony, linen-clad arm to point at the group of symbols rendered there in blue oilstick. They were very well drawn, Meredydd had to allow. "Meaning, Prentice Meredydd. Give this aislinn meaning."

That was easy. The horse, she said, is life, events. Strong emotions. The rearing horse especially connotes difficulty in maintaining control of one’s destiny.

Wyth’s lips pursed. And this? His finger tapped a set of wavy lines.

Water in motion, she replied. Emotions, such as love or great passion are symbolized thusly. A stormy sea would indicate violent emotions or a fear of them—especially, a fear of passion.

At least you studied.

I always study, Aelder Wyth.

He peered at her, narrow-eyed. A man dreamed, he said, "that he went upon Pilgrimage. And when he reached the shore of the Western Sea, he lay upon the sand and slept. When he awoke, a beautiful cailin urged him to rise up and follow her into the sea. He rose and walked after her and entered the water and did not get wet. He emphasized the last words with a smile and folded his arms across his chest. Interpret this aislinn."

Meredydd glanced quickly about the semi-circle of Prentices and wriggled uncomfortably on her bench—not because she couldn’t interpret the dream, but because she could interpret it and suspected it was the Aelder’s own.

"Are you certain, Aelder Wyth, that you wish me to interpret this dream?"

Why else would I have directed you to do so? he asked sarcastically and drew a snicker from the other Prentices.

Meredydd set her shoulders and sat stiffly upright, steeling herself. Pilgrimage—

Wyth held out the bluestick. Come to the wall and illustrate your Tell for the class.

She swallowed and gave the teasing spider web a last, longing glance, then rose and went forward. She took the bluestick, erased the existing symbols with the blotter and began her illustration.

Pilgrimage, she said, drawing the symbol:

Pilgrimage symbol

—is the journey toward the heart’s desire. The Sea ( Sea symbol ) is where the journey leads, to the Pilgrim’s Post from which the true seeker awaits the Meri ( Meri Symbol ). The Sea is also symbolic of deep emotion; love, devotion, faith, passion. Sleep ( Sleep Symbol ) is forgetfulness or a lack of acceptance. The maiden who wakes the sleeping Pilgrim ( Pilgrim Symbol ) is someone or something which provides the catalyst for the continuance of the quest — a prodder, such as the conscience. The conscience wakes the sleeper and he enters the relationship ( Relationship Symbol ) with the Object of Pilgrimage but...

But?

The classroom was so silent, Meredydd was certain she could hear the wind pass through the spider web. At least, she could have if the breathing of the ten other Prentices was not so deafeningly loud.

But, she continued, no effect is obtained. There. It didn’t sound so bad when you cloaked it in academic terms.

Sum up.

She turned the bluestick in her fingers and watched it go round and round, then she pretended to study the group of figures on the wall. The Pilgrim attains his heart’s desire, but it has no effect upon him. He...enters the Water of Life, but remains dry. I would read this as a fear dream. Perhaps the dreamer is afraid he will not be able to...absorb the bounties of the Meri or perhaps he believes he does not need to absorb them.

Aelder Wyth’s face was whiter than his fine linen robe. That he had not so interpreted the aislinn was obvious.

Terrible, he finally managed to say. Prentice Meredydd, you obviously need to improve your understanding of the aislinn symbology. Therefore, you will read Aelfraed’s treatises on the Water Signs and present a written summation of your findings to me for tomorrow’s lesson. Then, I’ll give you another dream to Tell.

Meredydd’s numb fingers nearly dropped the bluestick. Aelder Wyth had always been difficult to please, but he had never shown such ego, nor had she ever known him to be vindictive. She was about to protest his out-of-hand rejection of her Tell, but his attention was already elsewhere. He swiveled his head, his eyes leaping lightly over the class. They landed on Brys-a-Lach, known, in chatter circles, as Aelder’s Pet. He was a big, handsome boy—a man at sixteen—and he was almost as impressed with himself as Wyth was.

The Aelder Prentice smiled at his favorite student and said, Now, Prentice Brys, will you kindly interpret this dream? I will allow that Meredydd’s illustrations are correct; you needn’t repeat them.

Brys stood, broad-shouldered and impressive, and Meredydd sighed inwardly. It was so much easier for a comely young man to succeed in second level classes at Halig-liath than it was for a homely or undersized youth or—Heaven’s help!—a girl. It was the system, of course. The first level classes were taught by the Divine Counselors themselves, the second level by Aelders—Prentices like Wyth who had not yet been accepted to become Osraed, and who most likely never would. The Osraed knew that good looks and physical charm had naught to do with prowess in the Art, but the Aelders were so fresh from the classroom themselves—

It is clear, said Brys-a-Lach in a voice that would ring well from the gallery, that the vision pertains to spiritual greatness. So devoted is the Pilgrim that he spends his last dregs of energy on the Path to the Quintessential Ocean and falls asleep, heedless of his own needs. Now, we also know that it is in sleep that an Osraed often receives instruction from the Meri, so this may also be interpreted as the Pilgrim opening himself to Her will. So spiritual is this Pilgrim that a special envoy is sent to awaken him to his destiny. So pure is he that he walks directly into the Ocean itself, without even having seen the Meri. So transcendent is he that the waters fail to discomfit him—even as the Book of Pilgrimages says: ‘a knower is he who is dry in the sea.’ This Pilgrim overcomes even the Ocean.

But the whole point of Pilgrimage, blurted Meredydd, "is to see the Meri. Sleep does not symbolize greatness in any other context, why should it be any different here? Traditionally, it symbolizes lack of vigilance, lack of ardor, perhaps an inability to face reality. The ardorous Pilgrim would be wakeful and vigilant against the Meri’s appearance. This poor fellow would lose his chance—the Meri could rise up and dance all about him while he snored in the sand."

The class found this a humorous image and burst into laughter. Red-faced, Aelder Wyth silenced them.

A spurious interpretation— he began.

Nonsense, said Meredydd, forgetting all but the problem of interpretation. A rational interpretation according to the texts. Furthermore, the Pilgrim is presumptuous; he enters the Sea of the Meri without the Meri’s permission. He immerses himself in the Waters of Life and doesn’t even allow himself to be touched by them or absorb their influences. This can mean only one thing: This Pilgrim misses the entire point of his own Pilgrimage. Extrapolating on that, I would say that the dream expresses the spirit’s fear that this Pilgrim is drawing no spiritual benefit from his quest.

Sagacious! exclaimed one of Wyth’s homely, undersized students—a freckled red-head named Lealbhallain. He applauded lightly and alone. Aelder Wyth and Brys-a-Lach both glared at him while the other boys ogled.

So this Pilgrim has missed the point, has he? asked the Aelder Prentice after a long, rending pause.

Meredydd shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, wishing Wyth hadn’t left her standing, exposed, at the front of the class. That is my Tell.

This pointless Pilgrim is considerably chastened. The dream is mine.

There were a few gasps from those who hadn’t already guessed this.

Aelder Prentice Wyth narrowed his eyes. Do you wish to rethink your interpretation, Prentice Meredydd?

If he sought to humiliate her, he did an admirable job, notwithstanding he had caught himself in the backwash. She felt very small and alone. She could take it all back, she supposed—wanted to with all those eyes on her. She glanced at

Lealbhallain. His green eyes were enormous in his elfin face and he had caught his lower lip between his teeth.

He’s probably holding his breath, too, she thought, and if I wait too much longer, he’ll faint.

No, Aelder Prentice Wyth, she said finally, I do not. I stand by my Tell. To do otherwise would be cowardly and self-serving.

He did not commend her for her integrity. She ended up with a triple reading assignment and the onerous task of sorting organic medicinals for the Apothecary. Poor Lealbhallain was commissioned to help her.

You’re very brave, he told her while they were up to their wrists in lakeweed. I would have cried to have Aelder Prentice Wyth so furious at me.

I’m not brave, Leal, just stupid and querulous. I should have.... She pulled lake weed from the pail silently for a moment, trying to think of what she should have done. It would have been disobedient to refuse to interpret the aislinn outright. It would have been lying to Tell the dream as Brys had. Not that Brys was lying, of course. His Tell was different, that was all. But if she had given his interpretation instead of her own....

She sighed volubly. I don’t know what I should have done. Apologized to Wyth, I suppose. My Tell wasn’t very flattering.

Lealbhallain gave her an innocently penetrating glance. Was that the purpose of the Tell? To flatter Aelder Prentice Wyth?

Meredydd chuckled. No, Leal. It was not. But I suppose I could have apologized all the same. I’ll have to ask Osraed Bevol what the correct course would have been.

Lealbhallain gave her a look of deep, admiring envy. You are so fortunate, Meredydd, to have your own Osraed to ask.

She glanced down at the little piles of lakeweed that lay in puddles on the white crystal counter. I know, Leal. And I wonder why that is, when I am so undeserving.

The boy’s eyes widened. Oh, no, Meredydd! I didn’t mean — Why, you’re a prodigy! You have so much natural talent —

No, Leal, she said, laughing a little at his zeal. I have Osraed Bevol. That is what I have.

o0o

And you said what, then? asked Osraed Bevol, sipping his broth.

Meredydd laid the baps out on the table and glanced back toward the kitchen. "Bring the butter pot, won’t you, Skeet?

Then I said that there was only one thing it could mean and that — What? she asked, seeing that the Osraed was shaking his head.

He set down his broth bowl. How many times, Meredydd, must I tell you: There is never but one interpretation for any aislinn. Hm? His crooked finger pointed at a spot in the air as if she might look there for the exact number.

She reddened. Many times, Master.

Correct. And this is a condition which also applies to other realities—to all things—whether spoken or unspoken. Even Pov knows this. Isn’t that so, Pov?

Skeet responded slowly to the use of his given name under most circumstances, but the Osraed Bevol was proof to his stubbornness. The boy let his great Master use the homely name that meant simply, Earth, though everyone else, Meredydd included, must acknowledge him as fleet Skeet if they didn’t wish to be completely ignored. Now, he smiled sweetly and set out the butter bowl.

Aye, Maister. I do so know. Seventy times seventy meanings do a’ things hae.

Meredydd sat in her place at the table and stared at her green-stained hands. I let my horse rear up and carry me off, Master. I spoke out of turn. I should have let Brys-a-Lach have the last say about Aelder Wyth’s aislinn.

The Osraed’s dappled brows fluttered up his forehead. Oh? Then did you think it the correct Tell?

Well, of course I didn’t or I wouldn’t have got so.... I spoke out of turn, she repeated and fell silent.

You spoke up, corrected Osraed Bevol. "You stood by your interpretation, which, while not the only one, was at least spiritually appropriate. Prentice Brys was currying favor, not searching for the truth." He looked at her, eyes sharp, azure.

Pardon, Master, but is it appropriate to judge Prentice Brys’s motive?

Bevol pointed at her. No, it is not. But it is entirely appropriate for you to question my judgment of him. And if it is appropriate to question my interpretation of young Brys’s motives, then it is appropriate to question his interpretation of a vision.

I wasn’t impertinent?

It was a classroom exercise, anwyl, he told her, softening his criticism with the endearment. You were impertinent to cast your Tell as the only one, but if Prentice Wyth had wanted to avoid embarrassment, he should never have used his own aislinn as the subject for a reading.

Meredydd glanced up from her soup. Skeet was already half-way through his. Perhaps he didn’t expect a negative Tell.

Eh? Well, perhaps he’s possessed of a superior detachment, hm? A man of rare humility. His eyes crinkled at the corners.

Skeet laughed, his own dark eyes glinting. Aye, rare, he said.

After dinner, Meredydd helped Skeet clear the table. Sun still slanted through the kitchen window, burnishing the pale cobbles, and she felt the pull of a place to the east, almost in the fork of the Halig-tyne where it gave birth to the dancing Bebhinn. She glanced about as she entered the great hall, straining to keep her footsteps light on the flagstones. The hall was empty and she thought she could hear the Osraed rustling in his parlor. She drew a soft cloak from the pegs by the front door and reached for the latch.

Be back in time for your studies, said Bevol’s voice behind her.

Yes, Master. She opened the door and slipped out quickly, knowing his eyes followed her down the path and up the lea. The solid oaken door was no impediment to those eyes.

He never told her not to go, however much he wished to, and it was beyond her to grant him that unspoken wish. So she fled eastward to the Fork, to the place where one river became twain.

It was called Lagan— the Little Hollow —and there had been a homestead there once. A fine homestead with an ample cottage and a big barn and a great forge. There was only burnt rubble now, and tall grass and wildflowers that waved sorrowfully in the wind.

Every spring the mounds of shattered brick and stone and crumbled masonry were less apparent beneath the green carpet that encroached and obscured. Every spring the charred beams were more overgrown with vine and bramble. But the pain in Meredydd’s heart was never overgrown and her rage was never obscured.

She picked wild roses from the tangle that embraced the fallen chimney. She pricked her fingers on the thorns and bled in penance for making Osraed Bevol so unhappy. What she could not do penance for, even by coming here and bleeding upon the thorns every day of her life, was her absence on a particular afternoon seven years past.

On that afternoon, a day of worship, Meredydd-a-Lagan had left her parents at the Cirke in Nairne and gone home through the Bebhinn wood. She had been told to go straight home and had promised to do just that, but the wood had wooed and won her before she’d even left the Cirke-yard.

Along the Bebhinn—so named for the musicality of its swift-moving waters—she had come across an amazing pool of the most beautiful, clear, sparkling water and had stopped there, as she was told never to do. After all, who knew what wolves or boar or wild dogs or other were folk inhabited the woods late on Cirke-dag? So warned her elders, who little understood that to a precocious little girl, such threats are promises.

She had taken off her shoes by the little pool and thrust her feet into the icy water and let the most wonderful aislinn images flow through her waking brain. She’d sat long, day-dreaming. How long, she never knew. But in time and delight a tendril of mist had risen from the pool, captivating her with its graceful, spiraling pirouettes. As she watched it, imagining it to be all manner of wonderful things, it assumed, finally, the form of a white-robed maiden.

This was a very wonderful and magical thing to a little girl, and it became more wonderful, still, when the beautiful mist-cailin spoke to her. Her voice was a musical whisper and it told Meredydd she would seek the Meri. She would become a Prentice.

It was such a startling, engaging idea—that a girl, a blaec-smythe’s daughter, would study the Divine Art—that little Meredydd jumped to her feet in amazement, dropping her shoes into the pool. The white cailin dissolved back into a wisp of mist and the afternoon into sudden, cool twilight.

Looking frantically about, Meredydd suddenly realized that the sky was darkening rapidly toward evening. High above the trees, a burnished light flickered uncertainly in the mists of twilight.

Affording the lost shoes only a moment’s mourning, she climbed carefully out of the pool hollow, climbed until she stood atop a slight rise among the ash and fir. Looking southeast, toward home, she could see what caused the pulsing, rippling light. Wild breakers of flame leapt above the crest of the lea, as if shattering upon an inland reef.

Her heart suddenly in her throat, Meredydd tore through the wood, heedless of her cold, bare feet, her eyes clinging to those leaping waves of incandescence. She found the main path, broke from the verge of the wood and streaked up the intervening hill.

At the crest she was stopped as if by invisible hands and stared, terrified, into the vale. Lagan was ablaze. The forge, the barn, the cottage, all burned with the brilliance of the morning Sun. She could feel the heat even atop the hill.

Figures moved about the buildings, but they carried no buckets, went nowhere near the well. She made

Reviews for The Meri

[jjmcgaffey · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Not bad, but somewhat pointless - what, every female is going to be taken? None of them allowed to go out and teach others? Also - this is personal to me - with the very Celtic names, I was expecting it to be a retelling of Celtic myth - and so few of those end well for the characters. So I was kind of wincing every time she made a choice (is this the one that will make everything go bad?) and since the whole story is about her making choices, it made it rather hard to read. I suppose I will read Taminy - I might as well get the fuller story - but the world and the characters don't particularly excite me.

[cedargrove_1 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

The Meri is a book that follows the unlikely pilgrimage and spiritual awakening of Mereddyd, a orphan girl in a world where spirituality is a man's demesne. It's one of those books that you'll either love or not with little middle ground in between. For me, unfortunately the latter was the case, as I very much wanted to like this book.The novel is at time overly self conscious, and in places runs long where Bohnoff waxes lyrical on spiritual matters which can become confusing, and distract the reader from the story. The premise is a very good one, and the spiritual messages and lessons are strong. However, the become lost amid rambling passage and language adopted seemingly for effect to give the novel an 'otherworldly' or 'older' feel, but which has the effect of taking the reader out of the story while they work out what said unfamiliar words mean. All in all I wish the story could have been more consise to give greater impact to what could have been an excellent and unique tale.

[madamediotte · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A thoroughly enjoyable and artfully written fantasy novel! I loved the main character and her growth throughout the story, as well as the secondary characters, who were rather well-developed. A few things were predictable, but I didn't mind. My only real complaint is that it needs more editing, as there were several typos.

[katyas_26 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Book Info: Genre: Fantasy/Spiritual coming-of-ageReading Level: YARecommended for: fans of spiritually based fantasyTrigger Warnings: (implied) rape, child abuseMy Thoughts: I spent a lot of this book somewhat confused, as the story seems to mix Christianity with Briton Paganism. The names are Cymric (Welsh). I've designated this as fantasy, but I'm not sure if it is. Maybe it's historical fiction? I have no idea, I can't quite figure it out.Nonetheless, it was an interesting story. Mereddyd (pronounced Meredith) is a complex character who comes into her spirituality through the course of this book. While there is some action, this story is more about the journey, about understanding, and about her thoughts and dreams, so readers will need to enjoy the journey more than action. If this sounds like your sort of thing, be sure to check this story out. It is the first book in a series. The next book is called Taminy and the third is The Crystal Rose. They were originally released in the 1990s, and are being re-released by Bookview Cafe.Disclosure: I received an e-book copy of this from the LibraryThing Early Reviewer's program in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.Synopsis: In the twenty-fifth year of the reign of Cyne Colfre, a fifteen year-old girl named Mereddyd-a-Lagan sought to wield powers reserved, until now, for men. Would she attain the station of Osraed ... or die a heretic like the one who went before her?

[lquilter_2 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

YA fantasy novel, with a Celtic/pagan/Christian spiritual/religious angle. Part of a trilogy that I was originally given review copies of back in the 1990s; recently I was also given a review copy of an electronic re-release of The Meri (the first book in the series) through LibraryThing Early Reviewers. I will say up front that the spiritual journey novel is not my thing. This is a fantasy spin on the themes, but the religious angle is pretty close to the surface. The other big angle in the book, about a young girl facing sexism and oppression from her religious community, IS my thing. So for that, it was a quick read, although I balked a bit at the spirituality. But if you enjoyed Marion Zimmer Bradley’s The Mists of Avalon, and Tamora Pierce’s Alanna and sequels, then this might hit your sweet spot.

[esotericmoment · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I just finished this book and wanted to do my review right away. I loved it! This story follows the coming of age story of the only girl studying for the priesthood (priesthood isn't used in the book, but it describes the order well). It is Fantasy, and of course, creates it's own rich and dynamic spiritual path, Divine, leaders, and dogma. This religion is developed very well. Through the dialogue between the main character and her guardian you learn the key lessons of their faith and the pitfalls of the politics involved in the priesthood. It never becomes preachy, although there are certainly relate-able lessons, because it is wrapped up in a wonderful quest of self-becoming. I don't want to give away too many details. Every new test and piece of adventure are revealed perfectly. I can say, though, that I was surprised by the ending. I expected the main character to become the typical advocate for change, especially concerning the role of women. That didn't happen. I can't tell if I'm happy it surprised me or would have liked the typical ending more. Overall, great read!

[nordie_2 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Received from the LibraryThing's Early Reviewer January 2013 batch.

Book 1 of The Meri cycle finds the 15 year old Meredydd as the only female "prentice" in a male dominated religious Academy, learning to become a priest. Objections at her existence, which is starting to disrupt and distract the other students and teachers, forces the decision to make her pilgrimage to find The Meri earlier than many believe she's ready.

There are definite allusions to both state religion and the fear of witches (Wicke) and the belief that whilst people can worship a female incarnation of Godhead, a woman cannot be a disciple/priest of the same.

Much of the book is dedicated to the pilgrimage, and how Meredydd faces the three challenges put to her in her dreams. Mere seems to "let go" of some things really easily - her friend Leal and the Wisdom crystal are released with nary a second thought which is a shame.

The result of the pilgrimage is almost predictable, but no worse for that, and ties in nicely with the overall philosophy of the story

[tavaresden · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The story begins with Meredydd as the first female to study magic. Although she is apparently talented, she is quite rash and stubborn. She then goes on a journey to find a mythical being, Meri, and worship it. Meredydd is a strong character. She has to be when almost everyone against her! Overall, the book was interesting. I would recommend this book to people who enjoy very abstract books. There is a lot of allusions to religion and God so it may not be for everyone. I think the characters could have been more developed but it's passable.Won in a giveaway in return for an honest review

[darcyoliver · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I tend to shy away from books which are "Christian" as they often lose the story in a effort to send a message. This was my initial reaction to The Meri. However, I very quickly became totally engrossed with the characters and the philosophy (not necessarily Christian). The journey of 15-year-old Meredydd is one of choices, riddles, introspection and discovery. I was with her step by step, in discovery and terror, and could not put the book down. I read this as an ebook but I may have to buy a hard copy to put in my physical library for lending to friends and family. I can hardly wait to read Taminy, the next book.

[randyharper_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I received my ebook through Librarything and have to say ----- I had it all figured out --- and then the whole ending slipped away from me and twisted what I thought was a straight read and ended up as a wonderful tale with a surprise for this experienced fantasy reader. Meredydd is the main character and she is filled with vim and vigor and plenty of spunk. As a true heroine she does not allow adversity to stand in her way (for long) and under the tutelage of her foster father she embarks on her quest and all I will tell you is that it was filled with magic, insight and even tragedy, but the ending will send you in a tailspin heading straight for the next book. Can't wait to read it.. Ms Bohnhoff delivers a fun, (even if the Welsh gets in the way sometimes), and thoroughly enjoyable book. The only reason I did not give it 5 stars is because I am hoping for more and better to come with the rest of the series. This book is wholeheartedly recommended for fantasy readers, Nice job.

[lesliejung_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Maya Kathryn Bohnhoff's the Meri is tense and beautiful, dialogue is moving and adept, characters, especially lead figure, Meredyyn and the men and women revolving around her up until her transformative final moments are compelling and surprising to the end. I was swept away, and keen to read on whenever I could. We are told author is putting more up more to follow. heartfelt and serious but utterly engaging, we follow her development as only girl in the 'Prentice' program, suffering the barbs of that - including sniping from fellows, and jealousies as well as unsolicited affections. she lost her parents in a tragedy at birth, and has been raised by a wise elder of the community who defends her, and teaches her until she realises her goals and fate traveling on a pilgrimage with steadfast companion Skeet. we come to love him and her heroism too in the hard land outside her schooling. i suppose i missed other girls in her growing up - but we meet plenty on the quest. this is a captivating and rewarding beginning to a series.

[shehasreadtoomany · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

How does one come to be a prentice? What is a pilgrimage? Why take on a larger than life quest? In the Meri, the heroine Meredydd is orphaned when her parents are murdered. That one event shapes her destiny and is part of her desire to be a prentice and seek the Meri. Loss and revenge are the kernel that Merydydd begins with. The journey takes her from knowledge to wisdom then enlightenment and oneness.This is a lovely book. It reminded me of the Bhagavad Gita. The story unfolds as a tell and the reader is the pilgrim. At first it was weighted like a youth who is new to school but as the pilgrimage progresses you become enraptured.. The Meri will transform you.

[junipersun · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Engrossing quest tale. Meredydd has strong character, sense of justice, and compassion. She gets hazed at school, as the only female apprentice. Bohnhoff has created a world where males have defined women's use of spiritual powers as Wicke (witches/wicked?), and Meredydd's path seems set to challenge this--not by her wish, but by the unfolding of her journey.This tale can be read simply as entertainment, but for those who see themselves on their own path to enlightenment if poses food for thought.

[reading_fox · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Almost religious fantasy, but sufficiently non-Christian to be enjoyed by everyone. This is probably a book best enjoyed by welsh catholic teenage girls - which might be close to a direct opposite of me. However I was able to appreciate quite a bit of it, even if the whole divine mermaid issue was a bit off-putting. Our heroine is a welsh (well OK fantasy based world, that just happens to have pseudo welsh names, and is a small sea surrounded isthmus from a larger land) orphaned teenager, living as the only girl Prentice to a holy community. Being the only girl so blessed, has it's own troubles,but she perseveres with her studies before catching a teacher's eye. The following dispute is resolved when she opts to go on Pilgrimage to the Sea, looking for her people's equivalent of Jesus - the blessed Mermaid Meri.It manages to avoid being trite, which is quite some achievement, despite the somewhat heavy moral platitudes and frequent wailings and gnashing of unworthy teeth, and instead is light and readable throughout. Meredydd overcomes various problems by being sensible and trusting her heart even through her mind thinks it might not be the best course of action. Somewhat far too sensible for a 15 yr old but otherwise quite a well brought up innocent girl who has little thoughts of boys and their troubles. The world building is all pretty small - it's a small country and only a couple of villages are explored. But there is just a sufficient sense of description to capture it well - again with a good balance between description and keeping the story moving.Surprisingly enjoyable and well written even though I'm far from the target audience, I am unlikely to seek out the sequels though.

[woakden · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I received an early review copy of this, and I'm really glad I did! It was a very quick read. Merydydd is an easy character to love, and her struggles in a very gender segregated community where she has been treated like boy her entire life but is now becoming a young woman is very well done.Religion in this world is very different - everything is centered around The Meri, a female figure who sometimes appears to specially trained folk at the end of their Pilgrimage, and grants them wisdom and special insight into the world. This still doesn't prevent people from misinterpreting things, or failing to listed to The Meri, so this doesn't just turn into a world run by a benevolent goddess. There is a little magic thrown in, but much of the time it isn't clear whether something was magical or simply luck, although this is not an entirely mundane world.Merydydd's Pilgrimage is a really nice adventure story, and while it feels a bit contrived at times, in a way it is supposed to be contrived - someone else is actually in charge of things. I enjoyed the people she met along the way, although the village of Blaec Del seemed a bit bleaker than it really needed to be, but it wasn't clear to me if that was reality, or if that was just part of the Pilgrimage designed as a test.Overall the story felt fairly predictable, you know that Merydydd is going to succeed, even when she feels she has already failed. Often you can already see how her decision is going to wind up being the right one. But the ending surprised me, even though there were hints throughout the book as to what was going to happen, I still wasn't expecting it. Which is a good thing...and now I'm really curious to find out what happens in the next book!

[pjdaniel_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

"The Meri" is a great story about a young teen and her years at a school for males only. Throughout the story Meredydd grows spiritually, physically and mentality. She learns to be proud of herself for who she is even if she makes mistakes and doesn't have all the answers. The story ends with her pilgrimage to the sea to meet The Meri and a surprised ending. Overall a great book that leaves you thinking of your own answers to the questions asked in the story.

[sweet_girl3313 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I just finished this book and wanted to do my review right away. I loved it! This story follows the coming of age story of the only girl studying for the priesthood (priesthood isn't used in the book, but it describes the order well). It is Fantasy, and of course, creates it's own rich and dynamic spiritual path, Divine, leaders, and dogma. This religion is developed very well. Through the dialogue between the main character and her guardian you learn the key lessons of their faith and the pitfalls of the politics involved in the priesthood. It never becomes preachy, although there are certainly relate-able lessons, because it is wrapped up in a wonderful quest of self-becoming. I don't want to give away too many details. Every new test and piece of adventure are revealed perfectly. I can say, though, that I was surprised by the ending. I expected the main character to become the typical advocate for change, especially concerning the role of women. That didn't happen. I can't tell if I'm happy it surprised me or would have liked the typical ending more. Overall, great read!

[ignolopi · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I’m not a fan of religious fiction, but The Meri was an exception. It was beautifully written, and totally fantasy with a totally believable religion that at no point was overtly preachy. The plot is not terribly exciting in itself, but the main character is likable and it’s easy to empathize with her. Basically, Meredydd (that’s Meredith) is the only woman involved in religious study, all others are men — men who for the most part don’t think she should be there, despite the fact they worship the Meri, a female manifestation (?) of their god. Not only does everyone say things will end badly if Meredydd goes on a Pilgrimage, but half the people she meets suspect her of being a witch, since that’s what women who practice magic are. (Religion and magic are pretty much the same.)At one point Meredydd is afraid — with good reason — of being murdered by scary villagers calling her a witch (or wych or something), but most of the time she’s simply worried that she’s not worthy, that she won’t fulfill her tasks correctly, that she’ll lose focus, that the Meri won’t show herself, and that Meredydd, like her predecessor 100 years ago, will walk into the sea and never return.While not exciting, The Meri was a pretty journey of a young girl learning her own worthiness and the strength of her compassion. There is a sequel, which I’ll probably purchase, but know that Meredydd’s journey is concluded with the first book.(Read as an ebook on an iPad.)

[amanda3richards · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Meredydd-a-Lagan (don't worry, she goes by Meredydd the rest of the story...) is the first ever female Prentice to study the Divine Arts. After her parents are killed when she is very young she is raised by Osraed Bevol (make sure you tab the pronunciation page at the back!). She is raised to seek the Meri, who is an omniscient god like being, to seek her out and worship. But she is fought at every corner because of her gender and stubbornness. After several trials she is allowed to go on Pilgrimage to seek the Meri and must complete several challenges along the way and must also learn about herself and discover that she may not be the only girl to ever follow the path the Meri.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~I received this book through LibraryThing's Early Reader giveaway. I thoroughly enjoyed this book! It was one that was almost impossible to put down. In fact I wouldn't let myself put it in my purse like I normally do when going to work for fear that I would pull it out and read it at my desk!I was captivated by the story from the first few pages all the way through the end, and then some (I also read the teaser chapter for the second book at the end). I will definitely purchase this title in print as well as the other 2 that are in the works. I loved that Meredydd was a very strong and independent character who kicked butt when needed and was also compassionate and everything that you wish for in a good protagonist. I would easily recommend this book to anyone.

[charles_ray_60 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The Meri: Book One of the Mer Cycle, by NYT bestselling author Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff, is the story of Meredydd-a-Lagan, the only female student at the Academy. A protégé of the Osraed Bevol, she studies to be a Prentice, over the strenuous objections of many who see her very presence as a violation of tradition that will displease the Meri, the conduit between man and god.Talented, far more talented that any of the other students, Meredydd is determined to become a Prentice, but even more so, she is determined to identify the murderers of her parents. As she struggles with these competing goals and contends with the resistance, she discovers something even more important. She is not only talented, but special; special in a way that no one, not even her benefactor Bevol could have suspected.Bohnhoff is a master wordsmith, creating a believable society with customs that are at the same time, alien and all too familiar. The reader quickly finds himself or herself immersed in Meredydd’s world, seeing through her eyes, and feeling her every triumph and sadness. This is fantasy writing at its best, and well-deserving of five stars.