"Hush," she said. "The dawn is rising."

Ridel strained his eyes in the darkness. "I see only stars and the Mother," he said, gesturing vaguely to the full, ripe moon. "It must be hours before day's light."

"What do you know?" Lutta said with quiet, affectionate dismissal. "You are only fourteen summers. Sit yourself beside me, Ridel, and put away your flute for now."

"I'd rather be young than old like you," he grumbled, plopping into the grass beside his sister.

Lutta's eyes were closed and she smiled, her face awash in the Mother's light. "At least I'm not a rash and troublesome summer-born."

"And you're a boring, old autumn-born," he said. "When are you going to be married, Sister? Aren't you almost twenty autumns?"

"Oh, Ridel, can you stop bickering long enough to open your eyes to the beauty of this world?" Lutta chided. "I am nearly too old for marriage and for bearing sons, it is true. But I do not want that life. I want to be a priestess of the Dawn."

Ridel stared at his sister. "A priestess of the Dawn?" he repeated incredulously. "But then you'd have to stay indoors all the time! You'd only come out for the ritual!"

Now Lutta turned her face to smile at him. "Yes."

"But, Lutta," he blurted. "You love the sky and the grass and the water of our life river. How could you give it all up for one piece of it?"

"If you quiet yourself and watch with me," she said, "you will soon see."

Ridel fell silent, though he did not watch the sky. He gazed at his sister's face and tried to imagine that sweet, sunburnt face hiding underground and muttering prayers and lighting candles. At least, that's what he imagined the priestesses of the Dawn did all day. For all that, he'd only seen the ritual once or twice when he was too young to escape and stay abed as he usually did. But he knew Lutta went at least every few days.

"Why are we here alone, Lutta?" he said softly, the charms of the darkness working on his mind. "Why are we not at the ritual if you wanted me to see the Dawn so badly?"

Lutta did not answer for a time. Then, "I wanted you to see her differently," was all she said.

Ridel turned his eyes back to the sky and saw the first signs of the sunburst. The stars drew back as if waiting for royalty to pass through their midst and the misty clouds began to part along the horizon. He felt a sudden rumble and looked at his sister quickly. The rumbling grew louder and soon Ridel had to clench his jaw to teeth his teeth from jarring. Lutta was stumbling to her feet and throwing off her robes. She stood in her shift and the beads in her hair whipped around her face in the rising wind. Ridel struggled to join her and found he had to clutch her arm to steady himself. For a brief moment, her ecstatic face turned fully towards him and he saw with a mix of horror and wonder that her open eyes were full of milky light. And as they both turned their faces towards the growing light, a sudden hush came over it all and the wind seemed to suspend them in its embrace. Ridel could not feel the ground beneath his feet.

The blackness of the steed was shimmering and still. It galloped across the valley and the Mother seemed to fade as a full white star grew to bursting in its breast. It reared and the high call of a flute was mimicked. Ridel clutched his pipe instinctively. He could see its eyes flash and its tail sweep along the the darkest parts of the night. Time seemed lost as Lutta and Ridel watched the Dawn recede into the West.

When at last the two returned to the ground, Ridel felt as hoarse as if he'd been screaming. Lutta was stretched out and staring at the sky.

"Sister," he whispered as he crawled towards her weakly. "I think you will be a wonderful priestess."

Lutta turned her face to him and smiled. "Thank you, Brother."