Tuesday morning Edith arrived in her Cooper and picked up Dema and Cern from the congenial Bed and Breakfast where they were staying while in Avebury. After a long quiet drive across the Wiltshire countryside, during which Dema and Cern frequently remarked about the presence nearby of barrows and standing stones that Edith invariably was able to identify, they passed through the town of Wareham in Dorset and into a forested region.

Edith said, "I can tell you now that we are nearing the estate of Dame Agatha Holton. She is rather guarded about her Elder status, doesn't want to be hounded by novices and hangers-on, so her estate is quite private."

The way wound down a narrow lane until they came upon a tall hedgerow. There was no gate at the entrance, but passing through it Dema sensed a forbidding ward imbued in the hedges themselves that would turn back an unwanted visitor, evidence that someone here understood the nature of such things. 

Once inside, from the way the hedges curved away from the road it seemed they must form a large circle. Within was an expanse of well-manicured lawn, and about thirty yards from the perimeter a ring of stately oaks, spaced closely enough for squirrels to scamper from one to the next unimpeded. Starlings too seemed to have free rein in their branches. 

Between the oaks and the manor itself was another ring, this one formed of ancient-looking standing stones. Like the hedge, Dema could sense that the oaks and stones were imbued with their own warding power. The feeling was not unlike what she had sensed at Stonehenge and Avebury, except that here it was more actively maintained. Dame Agatha had little to fear from unwanted casual guests.

The Holton Manor house was stately though of modest size. They were greeted at the door by an elderly serving man, whose fastidiously unassuming appearance and reserved demeanor were exactly what one would expect from a British gentleman of his station. He conducted them to a comfortable-looking parlor, lit only by a small but well-tended fire in the large hearth and a number of strategically placed candles.

Dame Agatha herself appeared old and stately, gray-haired but otherwise trim and vigorous. She rose to greet them from a small writing table, tucked into a nook in a wall to wall built-in bookcase filled with old volumes bound in cloth or leather. Edith made the introductions.

Dame Agatha turned to her serving man and said simply, "Tea if you would, please, Steven," but Dema did not miss the warmth and humor in the look they exchanged, which told her their relationship was not as strictly traditional as might appear.

They made themselves comfortable in tall brocaded wingback chairs arranged about an elegantly carved low table in the center of the room, and exchanged pleasantries until tea was served and Steven left them to tend to his other affairs.

Dame Agatha turned to Edith, cocked an eyebrow and said, "Now, where is this mysterious bit of needlework that brings us together?"

Edith blushed and seemed a bit flustered as she glanced at Dema. In response Dema leaned over and reached into her bag to extract the embroidered cloth. She unfolded it and laid it on the table in front of Dame Agatha. Edith fastidiously moved the teacups out of the way.

Dame Agatha looked at it for a long moment, then raised her eyes to Dema and said, "You are a hearth witch, then."

"As I told Edith, I think of myself more as a shaman."

"Same thing. A hearth witch would spread this on her makeshift altar when she does her conjurings. You do the same?"

"No, I don't do conjurings. Nor does my grandmother. This is an heirloom of sorts that she gave me just before we left on this trip. She had to rummage through her own needlework to find it, but she had it from her grandmother. We have no certainty of where it came from before that."

A sharp look. "You don't?"

Dema blushed, recalling Sedna's words. "Grandma said I should let it speak to me, but I have not yet done that."

"Are you willing to do that today?"

Dema paused, aware of the implication behind Agatha's words. "I imagine that is why we are here."

Agatha's eyes warmed with approval. "You lead then. We shall follow, and see where it takes us." 

 Her glance included Edith and Cern, who both nodded assent, so Dema began. 

She knew nothing of Wiccan ceremony, but none seemed to be called for, so she simply leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, entering the state of shaman dream awareness that allowed her to sense the embroidered cloth as a presence in the room.

She felt the others join her in this waking dream. In her mind's eye the cloth with its embroidered patterns took on a glow, each color energized, activated by the attention of Dema and the others. 

A sense of its own antiquity pervaded the cloth itself, but this was overshadowed by the even greater antiquity of the patterns woven into it. The overall effect was a sense of the unity of the elements of the pattern, the connectedness of their meanings, until the cloth seemed to both fade and expand until the essence of its message blended into the higher essence of the eternal message the pattern was intended to convey. 

Dema was merely absorbing this awareness, with no attempt to assess its import. She was aware that Cern and Edith were doing the same. But Dame Agatha contributed the thought that the process had opened them all to a higher realm. 

As she did this, they became aware of another presence, welcoming them. Dema and Cern both recognized it as the Green Man. Edith recognized him too, but merely as a spirit who had communicated to her before. Dame Agatha welcomed him as an old friend.

Through Dema and Cern's recognition of him, Edith became aware of the connection to his manifestation as the Mr. Green she had seen in the Pub. He gave her the dream equivalent of a smile and a nod at this. Then he conveyed to them an enlarged sense of how renewed cultural awareness of the deeper meaning of these same and other symbols was leading to their manifestations in crop circles and many other forms, and how these manifestations in turn encouraged further awakening of that awareness, a hopeful sign for times to come.