In the west, where the stone holds a raven’s wing and a bowl of Kirsten’s irises and gentians, another priestess raises her hands and makes the invocation.

Raven in the West,Lady of the waters,Raven of twilight,Swift-stooping fate-bringerRobed in shadow.Watcher at the gates of evening,Stand as our Guardian in the WestAnd grant us the gifts of healing and vision.

Finally, Morgan herself moves to stand at the northern stone, where a green branch lies before the skull of a wolf.

Wolf in the North,Lady of Earth,Wolf of midnight,Soft-footed tracker of spiritsHidden in starlight.Stand as our Guardian in the NorthAnd grant us the gifts of wisdom and truth.

Morgan moves forward then, and raises the Corn Mother high above the altar, facing the Amazai. "Blessed be the Lady, Mother of all that lives. Blessed be all life that is born of Her and returns to Her again."

"Blessed be," the Amazai answer in unison.

She sets it down, lifting the bowl and pouring a handful of water onto the earth. "We have planted. We have watered." Next she raises the platter of loaves. "We have harvested, we have winnowed. Lady, we give thanks for your gifts of life. We give thanks for the sweet Earth and its bounty." Finally, she breaks one of the loaves and holds it high, the light of the fires running golden over its surface. "The Goddess has gone into the grain!"

"We will not hunger!" the women answer as the loaves are passed among them.

"The Goddess is in the springs and waters!"

"We will not thirst!" The bowl passes, and as Koda drinks she tastes the salt of its blessing and its sweetness, both vivid on her tongue.

"The Goddess is in the corn!" Morgan cries.

"It will grow again in spring!"

"The Goddess goes down into the earth!"

"She will return with the Sun!"

"The Goddess is within us!

"Life comes forth from death!"

The drums begin their pulsing beat again, and the Amazai join in one long, snaking line with Morgan at the head. Koda takes Kirsten’s hand and Dale’s; with her other hand Kirsten takes Inga’s. The dance this time moves about the circle at its perimeter, then inward toward the altar, winding more and more tightly toward its center until the spiral can be no tighter, then unwinding until the women stand at the edges of the circle, each with her arms stretched out to her sisters on either side. "Life," Morgan repeats, "comes forth from death. We release to life those who have left us."

A murmur passes around the circle, each woman naming her dead and those she has left behind. Koda whispers the names Wa Uspewikakiyapi, the Hurley family, remembering all those fallen at the Cheyenne or at Ellsworth. Beside her, Kirsten stands with tears in her eyes, murmuring the names of her parents and her colleagues. Other women weep openly, some whispering some shouting, the names of children, husbands, wives, friends, all those lost in the uprising known and unknown.

Ina Maka, Koda prays as the women disperse to feast and celebrate. Give us strength and wisdom to do what we must do. Let the death end. Let the life come forth again.

Later, Morgan seeks them out at the edge of the fire. Her raven mask tilts back from her face, perched precariously on the back of her head. She carries her plate piled high with pit roasted beef, corn and potatoes roasted with it. Koda, replete, has set her empty dish aside; Kirsten, slowly but enthusiastically, is still working her way through seconds. Morgan folds crosslegged to the ground and says, "You’re still planning on leaving in the morning?"

Koda nods. "We need to get on."

Morgan takes a bite of the meat, washing it down with a mug of chamomile tea. "You’re welcome to stay if you want. Or to come back to us when you return."