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We rode awayfrom the village, turning off a cart path and into the dense woods. From there, we found a path that followed a stream, leading away from all signs of humanity. We rode for over an hour when I felt a strange shift in the air. The hair on my arms rose, and I felt a tingling at the base of my neck. Around me, the landscape grew rocky, with heaps of stones poking out of the ground, some of which surrounded caves. And from within, I felt eyes on me…

The little ones of the hollow hills watched in silence.

Following a path leading up a hill, we emerged onto a plain.

Then, for the very first time, I saw them…the Claws of the Cailleach.

Taller than five men standing on top of one another, they were aligned in a straight row across a grassy field. Under the moonlight, I saw the wildflowers swaying in the breeze. Beside each stone, a torch flickered, casting orange and black shadows on the rocks.

The tall monoliths were nearly square in shape but tapered, cone-like, toward the top. Trailing down from the pinnacle of the stones, deep grooves had been cut into the rocks, making thestone look almost like arrows…or claws. In the distance, I saw more torches and what appeared to be a circle of similar, claw-shaped stones.

We dismounted. I took Branagán’s reins, leading him on. The horse eyed the monolith, his withers quivering as we passed. When Corva joined me, I saw that she had a pensive look on her face.

“What is this place, really?” I whispered to her.

“It is a place of deep and ancient magic. Like the great henge of the three sisters, this place is older than memory. And its use… That is a secret known only to the High Priestess of the Cailleach. But today… Today, we will see.”

I eyed the stones. “The stones. They are grooved.”

Corva nodded.

“Why?”

“I do not know.”

When we approached the final stones, I saw they were formed similarly to the other, with grooves at the top, but sat in a nearly complete circle. There was an opening in the stones to the south, aligning with the row of stones in that direction.

Within the stones, Môd and her priestesses waited. I saw no sign of Onnen and the priestesses of Brigantia.

“Queen Cartimandua,” Môd said, joining me. She gestured to two of the younger priestesses to take the horses. The young girls took the reins and headed off in the darkness, across the field, to a grove of trees not far away. For some reason, I felt that Môd was trying to get the horses as far from the stones as possible.

“High Priestess.”

“Come. The moon is beginning her descent. We must make ready.”

“What is this place, Môd?”

Môd lifted her hands. With one hand, she made a clutching gesture. She then fanned her other hand, aligning it with thewrist of her clutched hand. “The Cailleach reaches from the earth, one hand summoning the magic of the hollow hills, the other directing it.”

“The magic of the hollow hills,” I whispered. “I… I sensed them. They watch us this night.”

“They watchyou, Cartimandua. At all times,” Môd said, then turned to the others. “Take your places,” she told the priestesses.

“What are we doing here?” I asked Môd.

Môd looked pensive. “This night, we shall perform a rite not done in many, many years. We will draw the magic from the ground, find the Roman emperor, and stop him.”

“But how?” I asked.

“We shall make an offering to the Cailleach, asking for her help.”

“Buthowdo we stop him?” I asked. “Can he be killed with this magic?”

Môd tipped her head to the side. “Perhaps.” She gestured to the line of stones. “The voice of the Cailleach will rise,” she said, gesturing to the center stones, “and with great sacrifice, we will gain her favor. With her magic in our hands, we will act.”

“What sacrifice?”

Môd flicked her gaze toward Corva.