Slowly the full moon revealed her face. The moon had been full the night Pyre had told Fand they would wed. What if, what if he had waited like Zog had advised, what would now be like? Would they all be safe now, if only he had been patient, but he had not been patient. And now...now.

The white light of the moon obliterated the stars it was so bright. It cast its silver all around Pyre. The color reminded him of Fand’s eyes. He knew he must not think of her eyes and yet, in this moment, she was so vivid in his mind it was almost like she was with him. He needed to stop thinking and get to get to his cubicle, but the moon held him.

There was a twisting in his gut. Instinctively he knew it was about Fand. Something was happening to Fand. He could feel it. She was in danger. It felt like her fear had called out to him. All he could do was pray and that felt like such a pitiful exercise in futility. He wanted to save Fand, he wanted to help her. The only way he could help her was to shut his mind off from thoughts of her, lest she be discovered in his thoughts. It was so damn hard.

A warmth seeped into Pyre’s mind. He was no longer alone with his thoughts. Frightened, he began to recite a prayer of thanksgiving he had memorized. All the while he recited it fear in him grew. It would be far too easy to betray Fand and put her in more danger if he gave into panic. He must not give into panic. He crossed the empty Common. His shadow kept pace with him. There was a strange ringing in his ears that he had never felt before. He dare not acknowledge it or question its existence. He must just keep walking and praying.

Once inside his cubicle, he stripped off his clothes and put on his nightshirt. Through his small window, moonlight passed creating a path across the floor. Damn the moon!

With tender and flint, Pyre lit his candle and slipped beneath his covers. He reached for his prayer book. He needed its solace to divert his mind. With great concentration he began to read. It was hard to focus, thoughts and images of Fand kept trying to surface but he pushed them down. He had to. He forced himself to read the letters on the page one by one. The letters formed the words that could create a wall of safety in his mind if he would just let it. Exhausted by the effort, his vision began to blur. His head nodded once and then sleep overwhelmed him.

Moments later, hours later, Pyre did not know, a hand on his shoulder shook him out of sleep. He blinked his eyes. It was too dark to see. The moonlight no longer illumined his window. There was a man standing over him. He smelled of the infirmary. He asked, “Loren?”

The man placed his hand over Pyre's mouth and whispered, "Yes. Here, put this on."

Pyre took a heavy metallic cloth from Loren. He had not idea how to put in on. Was it a hood, a shawl, he didn’t know. He asked, "What is this?"

Loren hissed, "A hood.”

“Why?”

Softly, Loren said, “Shh. You will find out soon enough. Now do as you are told.”

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Pyre lowered his voice, "By whose orders?"

"Appocca's."

This was a moment when Pyre had to choose trust or disobedience. He chose trust. Loren had always been good to him. Would someone who worked so hard to heal him betray him? Pyre did not think so. The instant he slipped on the hood it adhered to his skin. All though it didn’t have eyeholes he could see Loren’s dark silhouette. There weren’t any nose holes either, he could breathe normally. He asked, "What does it do?"

Loren sat down beside Pyre. "Be quiet and you will find out."

A single bell tolled in Pyre's mind. He felt himself being sucked into the darkness of Transferrance. This was impossible. There was not any fire or steam. Terror gripped him. It had been wrong to trust! With sweaty fingers he tried to remove the hood that was taking him to--where? It held his head fast. He was falling and falling. Would he survive the landing? Abruptly, the sensation of Transferrance ceased. Pyre found himself in a small stone room with a single candle. He was alone. At least he thought he was until a voice behind him said, "Pyre." He turned. The man wore a hood exactly like his own. The voice was not recognizable through the heavy fabric, neither was the face. The man’s body was clad in a shapeless black tunic.

Pyre asked, "Who are you?"

The man stood in perfect stillness. He said,"You do not need to know. Ignorance is safer than knowledge sometimes and this is one of those times.”

Frustrated Pyre asked, “Why am I here?”

The voice patiently responded, “You have been summoned here because you have become a key player in the Purge." Pyre hadn't heard of any Purge. In his Religious History Class he had studied a few, but he had no idea they were in the midst of one. We’re they in the midst of one? And how in the hell had he become a key player? Fand. That was how. The man continued, "Within this city is an uprising. We oppose the abuse of power and the practice of whitewashed dark magic."

Inwardly Pyre groaned. This is just what he needed more trouble to deal with. If only he just remained a farmer! If only...

The man continued, "The hood you wear will protect your mind from the intrusion of others. It will help you keep the secrets you now harbor." He paused.

Pyre could feel the intense gaze of eyes he could not see. He was being summed up. Under the scrutiny, he began to twitch. How in the hell had he landed in this?

The man said, "This hood will bring you to this room when there is information to be shared."

Information? Had he been summoned here to be told about Fand? Surely he had. He asked, "Do you have word of--"

The man cut him off, "Never assume anything Pyre. Never ask a question that divulges information. The answer is yes. We have word of Fand. This night, by some miracle she has done what no other concubine has ever done in the history of Angs' foul city. She has escaped."

Fand was safe. Praise the Keeper! She was alive. "Is she hurt?" He was desperate to ask if Angs had raped her but he found the words impossible to form.

The man said, "Yes, she is hurt, but not mortally. Her union with Angs was not consummated."

Tears came to Pyre's eyes. Fand was safe, Fand was whole.

The man said, "You must continue to grieve her, Pyre. More minds than you know are bent toward yours. If you fail to keep her life a secret, it could undo all. You must pray. The Keeper will help you as he has done in the past. And when your thoughts grow too frantic, this hood will come to you."

The candle extinguished itself and Pyre was cast into complete darkness. He felt his body begin to slide into Transferrance. It was too soon! He had more questions!

He needed to know if he would ever see Fand again. He so wanted to see Fand again! Would he ever see her again? For a brief moment he tried to fight against being transferred, but it was pointless. When he landed, he was on the floor beside his cot. Loren was gone. The hood released him and disappeared.

He took in a slow breath of air, and grabbed his prayer book off his bed. It was too dark to read it, but he held it and he prayed for all he was worth, for all Fand was worth. He prayed for continued mercy.