Once in the far hills I found a ring of stones, not a great one like that which stood on the Tor at Avalon, nor the greater one which had once been Temple of the Sun on the great chalk plains; here the stones were no more than shoulder-high even on me (and I am not tall) and the circle no greater than the height of a tall man. A small slab of stone, the stains faded and overgrown with lichens, was half-buried in the grass at the center. I pulled it free of weed and lichen-, and as I did whenever I could find food unseen in the kitchens, left for her people such things as I knew seldom came to them-a slab of barley bread, a bit of cheese, a lump of butter. And once when I went there I found at the very center of the stones a garland of the scented flowers which grew on the border of the fairy country; dried, they would never fade. When next I took Accolon out of doors when the moon was full, I wore them tied about my brow as we came together in that solemn joining which swept away the individual and made us only Goddess and God, affirming the endless life of the cosmos, the flow of power between male and female as between earth and sky. After that I went never unattended beyond my own garden. I knew better than to look for them directly, but they were there and I knew they would be there if I needed them. It was not for nothing that I had been given that old name, Morgaine of the Fairies ... and now they acknowledged me as their priestess and their queen.

I came to the stone circle, walking by night, when the harvest moon sank low in the sky and the breath of the fourth winter grew cold on the eve of the Day of the Dead. There, wrapped in my cloak and shivering through the night, I kept the vigil, fasting; snow was drifting out of the sky when I rose and turned my steps homeward, but as I left the circle I turned my foot on a stone which had not been there when I came thither, and, bending my head, I saw the pattern of white stones arranged.

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I bent, moving one stone to make the next in sequence of the magical numbers -the tides had shifted and now we were under the winter's stars. Then I went home, shivering, to tell a story of being benighted in the hills and sleeping in an empty shepherd's hut-Uriens had been frightened by the snow, and sent two men to seek me. Snow, lying deep on the mountainsides, kept me within doors much of the winter, but I knew when the storms would lift and risked the journey to the ring stones at Midwinter, knowing the stones would be clear ... snow lay never within the great circles, I knew, and I guessed that it would be so here in the smaller circles, where magic was still done.

And there at the very center of the circle I saw a tiny bundle-a scrap of leather tied with sinew. My fingers were recapturing their old skill and did not fumble as I untied it and rolled the contents into my palm. They looked like a couple of dried seeds, but they were the tiny mushrooms which grew so rarely near Avalon. They were no use as food, and most folk thought them poison, for they would cause vomiting and purging and a bloody flux; but taken sparingly, fasting, they could open the gates to the Sight ... this was a gift more precious than gold. They grew not in this country at all, and I could only guess how far the little folk had wandered in search of them. I left them what food I had brought, dried meats and fruits and a honeycomb, but not in repayment; the gift was priceless. I knew that I would lock myself within my chamber at Midwinter, and there seek again the Sight I had renounced. With the gates of vision thus opened I could seek and dare the very presence of the Goddess, begging to reprcnounce what I had forsworn. I had no fear that I would be cast forth again. It was she who sent me this gift that I might seek again her presence.

And I bent to the ground in thanksgiving, knowing that my prayers had been heard and my penance done.

10

The snow was beginning to melt off the hills and a few of the earliest wild flowers showed in sheltered valleys when the Lady of the Lake was summoned to the barge to greet the Merlin of Britain. Kevin looked pale and worn, his face haggard, his twisted limbs dragging more reluctantly than ever, and he braced himself with a stout stick. Niniane noticed, her eyes hiding the pity she felt, that he had been forced to put My Lady from him into the hands of a serving-man, and she pretended not to see, knowing what a blow that must have been to his pride. She slowed her own steps on the path toward her dwelling place, and there she welcomed him, summoned her women to build up the fire, and sent for wine, of which he took only a token sip, and bowed gravely in thanks.

"What brings you here so early in the year, Venerable?" she asked him. "Have you come from Camelot?"

He shook his head. "I was there for a part of the winter," he said, "and I spoke much with Arthur's councillors, but early in the spring I went southward on a mission to the treaty troops-I should say now, I suppose, the Saxon kingdoms. And I take it you know whom I saw there, Niniane. Was that Morgause's doing, or yours, I wonder?"

"Neither," she said quietly. "It was Gwydion's own choice. He knew he should have some experience in battle, Druid teaching or no-there have been warrior Druids ere this. And he chose to go south to the Saxon kingdoms-they are allied with Arthur, but there he would not come under Arthur's eyes. He did not-for reasons known as well to you as to me- wish for Arthur to set eyes on him." After a moment she added, "I would not swear that Morgause did not influence his choice. He takes counsel of her, when he will seek the counsel of any."

"Is it so?" Kevin raised his eyebrows. "Aye, I suppose so-she is the only mother he has ever known. And she ruled Lot's kingdom as well as any man, and still rules, even with her new consort."

"I heard not that she had a new consort," said Niniane. "I cannot see as well what happens in the kingdoms as did Viviane."

"Aye, she had the Sight to aid her," Kevin said, "and maidens with the Sight when her own Sight failed her. Have you none, Niniane?"

"I have-some," she said hesitating. "Yet it fails me now and again-" and she was silent a moment, staring at the flagstones of the floor. At last she said, "I think-Avalon is-is drifting further from the lands of men, Lord Merlin. What season was it in the world outside?"

"Ten days have passed since the equinox, Lady," said Kevin.

Niniane drew a long breath. "And I kept that feast but seven days since. It is as I thought-the lands are drifting. As yet no more than a few days in every moon, but I fear soon we shall be as far from sun tide and moon tide as that fairy kingdom they tell of... it is ever harder to summon the mists and to pass forth from this land."

"I know," said Kevin. "Why, think you, I came at the slack of the tide?" He smiled his twisted grin and said, "You should rejoice-you will not age as women in the outer world are prone to age, Lady, but remain younger."

"You do not comfort me," said Niniane with a shudder. "Yet there is none in the outer world whose fate I follow, save-"

"Gwydion's," said Kevin. "I thought as much. But there is one with whose fate you should be concerned as well-"

"Arthur in his palace? He has renounced us," said Niniane, "and Avalon lends him no more help-"

"It is not of Arthur I spoke," said Kevin, "nor does he seek help from Avalon, not now. But-" He hesitated. "I heard it from the folk of the hills -there is a king again in Wales, and a queen."

"Uriens?" Niniane laughed, a scoffing laugh. "He is older than those same hills, Kevin! What can he do for those folk?"

"Nor did I speak of Uriens," said Kevin. "Had you forgotten? Morgaine is there, and the Old People have accepted her as their queen. She will protect them, even against Uriens, while she lives. Had you forgotten that the son of Uriens had teaching here, and wears the serpents about his wrists?"