They were walking home from the bus on the longest dark of the year. They lugged bright bags of Christmas shopping and they were full of good cheer. Mona had had a few beers. Jerry didn't drink.
By the three stones they stopped to reorganize their packages. Mona was twenty, Jerry twenty two. The three stones were three thousand and four. The stones stood on the edge of the village as they always had and the people had long forgotten their purpose.
``So dark,'' said Mona, the middle stone at her shoulder.
``So dark,'' agreed the stone. Only Jerry heard.
``That stone just said something,'' he said.
``No it was me, I just said `so dark'.''
``The stone said `so dark' too.''
They stepped back from the stones, so finger like, so phallic, so like three French baguettes. They were not two hundred yards from the nearest house with Christmas lights atwinkle, but the stones pulled him to another time. He thought he saw three young women trying to free themselves from the rock. Trying to pull themselves away. Transparent and hardly there.
``Help us free ourselves!'' they called, ``we are three sisters, fair and virtuous. Held by demons in the stone!''
``Why do you speak to us? How can we free you?'' asked Jerry.
``We call out to all who pass in darkness,'' said the stone, ``but not all hear us. The Vicar hears us. The dark postman hears us. The one from Pakistan.''
``But they do not free you.''
``Because they fear us.''
``I do not fear you,'' said Jerry.
``Then free us!''
``Who are you talking to?'' asked Mona.
Jerry looked at the three beautiful women. So pure. So fair.
``Three thousand years is a long time!'' called the middle stone, ``break the spell and set us free! Just three words of the Old Tongue, I will whisper them in the midnight wind and you will hear and repeat them.''
Jerry looked up at the woman of the third stone then and caught the glitter of the greenest eye he ever saw. For three thousand years people had turned down their request. One hundred and twenty generations had refused them. Could he be the one to break the spell? At first he thought yes, why not? But one glittering green eye had changed his mind. A blue eye, a brown would not have deterred him.
``What's the color of an eye?'' he thought. ``A lot,'' an ancient voice within him answered.
``Jerry who were you talking to?'' said Mona.
``No one,'' he answered.