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The people cleared the pathway and stood to the side, watching and waiting.

I looked overhead, my eyes settling on the stars of the three sisters watching over my people.

Môd raised her hands and turned to face the people.

“The wheel of time has spun once more,” she called out loudly. “Tonight, we summon the Cailleach, lady of winter. Rise from the hollow hills, divine lady of darkness. With your wolves at your side, descend from the mountains. The harvest has been taken in. Brigantia sleeps, her womb full, growing throughout the winter to awake and give birth to new life come spring. Arise, Cailleach. The Brigantes call you. Arise. The wheel has turned. The new year has come. In these dark months, arise and guide us!”

The carnyx sounded once more.

We stood on the windy plain, our eyes toward the dark henge in the north. The last of the sun had gone. There was no sound save that of the whistling wind and the soft flicker of torches.

And then…

My breath caught in my throat.

The moon began to rise. Lifting from the horizon, a ball of pristine silver, the glowing orb’s light perfectly aligned with the northernmost henge’s gateways. As the moon rose slowly, the silvery beams reflected on the spearstone slurry that painted the henges and the landscape around us. With the precision of threading a needle, the moon rose, casting its light through the gateway of the northern henge, shimmering down through the henge of the mother and onward to that of the maiden.

All at once, the henge of the three sisters lit up like sunlight reflecting from polished metal.

I winced, the moonlight becoming as blinding as the sun, and then looked out at the plain. Dazzling with iridescent color, the entire henge glowed like the stars overhead.

I cast my gaze upward, seeing a shimmering iridescence cascading toward the sky. It was luminous. The light rose as if reaching out to the stars themselves.

I felt the henge’s magic deep in my chest. Whatever the mystery of the henge was, it was more than just the Cailleach and Brigantia. It was more than just our mortal realm. As the moonlight rose, those of us standing on the sacred plain had all stepped into an in-between realm.

While the priestesses held their mysteries close to their hearts, I knew that no one really remembered the true purpose of the three sisters henge anymore. Created so long ago, before we even called ourselves Brigantes, its true origin and use were lost. An ancient people lived in a world before ours. I did not know their names, but our rituals were echoes of theirs, our knowledge mere slivers of what they knew. As I watched the sky move with colorful light, I felt that ancient power.

I set my hand on my heart, touching the symbol emblazoned by the Cailleach on my skin. I knew with great certainty that the symbol was somehow tied to those ancient people, the Cailleach herself, and the magic of the hollow hills from which the little ones watched.

Standing on the edge of those mysteries, I could just feel their power. Like I was waiting outside of a great hall, swelling music playing inside, I could hear the rhythm but could not make out the details with clarity. Whatever that ancient power was, it resonated deep within me.

I glanced up at Cormag. His eyes were on the sky. I saw the colorful lights in the liquid pools of his eyes.

Child of the Cailleach.

My husband.

At that moment, I saw something luminous shimmering fromwithinhim, and my heart filled with love.

We stood in awe, watching as the moon climbed higher and higher in the sky. As it did so, the glow of the moonbeams on the spearstone began to fade, and the aurora over us dissipated like fading smoke.

As it dwindled, the heavy feeling dislodged from my chest.

I am queen of a mystery I do not understand, but I will honor and protect it with my dying breath.

Once the astral anomaly had passed, the carnyx sounded once more.

The sound of it made my shoulders tremble, a sensation like I was being pulled back within myself washing over me.

Cormag gently set his hand on my waist and pulled me close, kissing the top of my head.

The priestess sounded the horn once more and again a third time.

The sound echoed across the plain.

When it faded, Môd turned to the people.

“Brigantes! The Cailleach has risen. Winter has come. We honor the great lady of darkness. May your hearths give you warmth, your stores nourish you, and the moon’s light guide you. Brigantes, be blessed. Our lands have been watered with blood in this changeable year. Let the ground sleep, and come spring, we will begin anew. Blessed may you be.”