Brianna walked round the cairn feeling the druid’s power as she followed him one step at a time. Each step seemed to bring down the swirling mist and she found herself struggling to see, causing her to trip over her skirts as she tried to keep up with him. It was important for her to be there when the doorway opened. She had seen it once before and knew that the magical portal to the otherworld only opens once a year, and this was it. This was the time when the land met the sky and time stood still. For a few moments the alignments clashed and forced an entry into another dimension.
Seven years ago, she had been on that same cnoc, on the same Inis, when the sun was low. She had been there with Conall, her handsome, lean husband. He collected herbs in the forest and together they searched for special plants and roots to make potions and poultices mixed with magic to heal ailments. Conall knew many spells. His travels had helped him to build up knowledge in these things.
On this day, their coracle had taken them to the other side of the land where they first saw the Inis. It stood low in the glistening sea, flat except for the one small cnoc. There was nothing to pull them there, but there was a great pull to go there. Conall knew instinctively that this was a special place of power. This was a nexus point where the gates open to the otherworld. He turned the coracle into the wind and paddled northward. They landed in shallow waters and paddled to the shore, taking time to survey the sandy dunes and stony waterfront, searching for salty weed and samphire. The gentle climb to the top of the cairn brought them to the sacred stones, each one atop the other in a conical shape and equally spaced around the burial mound. At that moment they had no idea what would befall them, but Conall began to pace the cairn, getting a feel for the power lines and the way the land lay. Three times, he walked round it. Three times he sat at the top of the hill. Three times Brianna followed, wondering, and not quite knowing, what he was up to. She flopped beside him and began to ask questions about the place.
“What are you looking for Conall?” “I am not looking, I am waiting,” he replied.
“What are you waiting for Conall?” she asked. “Shh!” he said, whispering. “Shh!”
Brianna started to ask why she must be silent, but Conall waived her questions and restrained her. They sat there hardly daring to breathe, in case the slightest sound broke the spell.
Then, slowly, the light fell, bringing an orange glow to the sky. Then a mist descended, and the eerie green light of dusk enveloped the cairn. Conall got up and began, once again, to walk round the cnoc. Once, twice, three times. A strange light appeared in the mist, and suddenly the sound of hooves against hard ground rose from nowhere. The white horse appeared from out of the mist and galloped toward the left side of the hill. Conall rose to follow and chased after the horse.
Brianna leapt up and ran after Conall. Three times she ran around the cairn, searching for the horse and searching for her husband. They had disappeared into the night. Three times more she ran and searched, searched and ran…
Brianna broke the silence. Her piercing cry could be heard as far as the mainland.
And so it was that every year Brianna came back to the Inis to break the silence, calling for her husband. Every year she sobbed for him and every year she went back to her home in Feltar alone. This year she had brought a druid with her, in the hope that the portal to the otherworld, the way of the Goddess Epona, would open up and release her husband from the darkness of that underworld.
So she followed the man dressed in black robes as he waved his fey. The druid walked in silence. Once, twice, three times… And once again, the silence was broken by the screams of Brianna.
By Tina Zee, from the book, Confluence, Celtic and Arabian Visions and Stories