Pyre was still shaking. He had been sound a sleep when the damn masked jerked him to this dark place. It was the same room as last time, only this time there were others. All around him were the covered faces of men. On a raised stage a man paced. His gait was very like Jerue’s, but Pyre was certain he was not the Head Councilman. The man raised his hands and the room quieted.

Another man ascended the stage. He walked to its center. The man, who walked like Jerue, put his hand’s down and stepped back.

The man at center stage said, “Tonight, the wall has been breached and not for the first time. On the surface things will appear as they always have been, but beneath the surface great suffering will occur. Suffering I fear that will be necessary if the Purge is to succeed. Some of you will suffer, and some may die. Be prepared and make your peace with the Keeper.”

Pyre shook his head twice. This was a dream, no a nightmare. It had to be. War? Was there going to be a war? A battle, perhaps just a battle? Battles led to war. He had not joined the Council to take part in an insurrection. Truth was he still didn’t know why he joined the Council at all.

The man on the stage raised his hands . In one blink of an eye the room emptied. Every man vanished except for Pyre and the man on the stage.The man said, “Come closer.”

Before he took a step, Pyre asked, “Who are you?”

The man said, “The less you know, the safer you are.”

Pyre asked, “Then, why know anything at all?”

The man laughed. “Well spoken. Still, you must know something to be of use.”

Alarms went off in Pyre’s head. He asked, “Be of use? How?”

The man stepped off the stage and came to where Pyre stood. He said, “You will find out in time.”

Was the man before him good or evil. He asked, “I want to know now.”

With a slight jerk of his head the man said, “I will tell you this much. You are at the center of the storm that is brewing.”

Pyre asked, “Me?”

“Yes you. Events are about to unfold that will be painful and perplexing, but be certain of this, the Keeper will not forget you and neither will the Purge, even though it will appear that you are utterly forsaken.”

Pyre stared at the man. “Speak plainly.”

“I speak as plainly as I am permitted. More would be dangerous for you. Know this, when the time comes you must remain silent about all you know.”

A crawling fear had begun to grow in Pyre. Angrily he said, “I know nothing.”

The man shook his head. “No Pyre, you know a great deal. More than most of the men assembled in this room tonight. None of them have ever traveled Beyond. You have. Tonight our enemies have traveled Beyond and broken the age-old law of Separation. This does not bode well for our people or our realm.”

This man’s words were too grandiose and his riddles were beginning to make Pyre’s headache. Who were their enemies?

The man said, “It is time you returned to your cubicle.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Before Pyre could even protest he was sucked into the darkness of Transferrance. He landed hard on his cot. Pyre felt his face. The mask was gone.

Outside he heard the wind stir. Then thunder rumbled in the distance. A storm was coming.

*

The Common was still wet from the previous night’s rain. During Morning Prayer, Pyre cast covert glances at the Apprentice’s assembled around him, at the elder Council men with their heads bowed. Had any of them been present in that room last night?

After prayer, Pyre headed to his Transcription class. He was stopped outside his classroom by Jerue. The Head Councilman’s eyes seemed to penetrate his soul. He said, “You are looking rather peaked these days? Still grieving for the Gewordens I fear?”

Pyre nodded, but did not speak fearful his voice would betray him.

“I will get Dr. Kran to fix you a potion. It will help you sleep. You do need your rest.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you.”

Jerue smiled. “Loren Uhr will bring it round tonight before lights out. I expect you to look much better tomorrow.”

Had Jerue been the one on the stage last night? If he had been wouldn’t he know Pyre had been there too? Surely the Head Councilman would possess such knowledge. The warmth stole over Pyre’s mind. For the first time, he recognized the intruder. It was Jerue. Pyre stilled his thoughts and his questions. He turned his mind to Zog. After several seconds Jerue released his mind. Pyre looked into the older man’s eyes. He seemed satisfied by what he had read.

Pyre stuttered, “I better, get on to class Sir, if there is nothing else.”

Jerue smiled again and said, “No, nothing, for now.”

*

As Jerue promised, Loren Uhr came to Pyre’s room that night. In his hand was a small vial. It contained a peculiar blue shaded concoction. Loren handed the vial to Pyre, he said, “Jerue’s medicine.” Then, he shook his head and mouthed something that looked like, “Don’t drink it.”

Pyre frowned at him. “What?”

Loren rolled his eyes. He mouthed, “Don’t,” then said aloud, “Drink it.”

Unsure of what to do, Pyre raised his eyebrows at Loren.

Loren pantomimed opening the vial and spreading the liquid from the bottom of his lower lip to the base of his throat, then he opened his robe revealing his bare chest. He ran his finger down to where his stomach was and stopped.

This was very odd. Still Pyre did as he was instructed. He opened the corked vial and touched the liquid to his skin. It was cold and sent a tingling sensation over him. When he finished, Loren said, “Good.” “At dawn—“ Loren made a swirling motion on his stomach and then proceeded to draw a line to his privates.

This was even odder. Pyre muttered, “What ever.”

Loren hissed, “Just do it.”

“All right.” Pyre searched his mind for any sign of intrusion. He felt a vague presence. His questions would have to wait.

Loren took the vial from Pyre and poured the remaining liquid into an empty cup. He said, “I must return this vial to Dr. Kran.”

“All right.” Pyre took the cup Loren handed him and put it on his bedside table. He tested his mind. The vague presence was gone. He had to ask his questions quickly before he was monitored again. He turned to Loren and whispered, “You and Appocca are the only ones I am sure of.”

This statement did not puzzle Loren, he said, “That is as it should be. You harbor enough secrets without knowing more.”

“How will I know who to trust?”

Loren lowered his voice to a faint whisper and said, “Trust only those who have been revealed to you. And only those.”

“Only you and Appocca have been revealed to me.”

“No Pyre, one more. Think.”

He asked, “Dr. Kran?”

“Yes.”

The vague presence returned.

*

A voice woke Pyre in the night. He sat bolt upright in bed. He recognized the voice. It was Zog’s. Pyre had the strangest feeling that Zog was in the room with him. It was not a scary feeling, but a comforting one. How could this be? Surely due to his numerous sins Zog resided in hell. Or had he been forced to haunt the earth? He whispered, “Zog are you there?” No answer came.

Thoughts began to rapidly shoot in Pyre's mind. Things he must not think. Desperate to quiet his mind he sank to the floor on his knees. He was too agitated to know if he was safe or not. All at once the hood came to him. A voice inside Pyre's heart said, “Friend, it is me. Please pray for Fand.”

With his face pressed against his hands Pyre prayed for Fand’s safety, for her life, for her future. All the while he prayed he had the strangest sensation that Zog knelt beside him. When he finished his prayer, the presence left as did the hood. Had it been Zog?

He lay back down on his cot and waited for the dawn. When it came he got up, took the cup Loren had left him and spread the remaining liquid on his body as Loren had instructed him. He was once again engulfed in tingling cold. He poured the rest of the liquid in his chamber pot. A single spiral of blue smoke hissed upward.