The white afternoon sun was too warm. The dappled gray horse lumbered beneath Fand. She held on as tightly as she could. If Resen didn’t stop soon, she was going to slip off the damn creature. She looked ahead to where he rode on Donner. They moved as a single entity. He called back to her, “We are almost there.”

She asked, “Almost where?”

“To your Uncle Wert.”

Fand looked around her at the swaying grasses. Was this near the Wall? She didn't see the wall. All along she had assumed Resen was taking her home. She yelled, “Where is my uncle?”

“With Petran Schon.”

Fand stopped her horse. If Uncle Wert was with Petran Schon, he was dead.

When Resen realized Fand wasn’t following him, he turned Donner around and rode back to her. “What is it?”

“I thought you were taking me home. I didn’t know you were taking me to my uncle’s grave.”

A frown creased Resen’s forehead. “Your uncle is not dead.”

“If he is with Petran he is.”

“Petran isn’t dead.”

This was crazy talk. Fand shook her head. “No, he was executed over twenty years ago.”

Resen looked at her and said, “Petran is very much alive. My father found him outside the Wall broken and near death, but not dead. Who delivered him, we do not know. My mother nursed him back to life. He lives and so does your uncle. We are almost to his farm.”

Was this possibly true? Please let it be true. There was something in Resen's eyes that troubled her. She guessed what it was and asked, "We won't be going back to Tasche will we?"

He shook his head. "I am sorry. No. Once one has crossed over, they have crossed over for life.”

She would never see home again. Never sit on her favorite rock by the stream. Never hear the birds sing outside her window. What would her life be here in this land? If Uncle Wert were with her, it would be enough. It had to be enough. Her thoughts clouded with the foolish girl she had been. This was not the way it had to be. Instead of accepting Pyre’s honest devotion she had chased after a dream man and dream sensation. What had she gotten? A nightmare and the loss of almost everyone she loved.

*

The sun began its swift slide toward the horizon. Soon she would be with Uncle Wert. She would see him and hold him, and grieve with him. She clucked to her horse and caught up with Resen. They crested a small rise. Below them was a ring of trees. Within the ring were a barn and a burned down house. Resen cursed and goaded Donner forward. Fand remained rooted. Who lived in that house? Oh, Keeper, not Petran. Please, no! No! She felt herself slipping, but she did not even try to stay on her horse. She hit the ground hard and wrapped her arms around her knees. If Uncle Wert was dead, she wanted to be dead too. So what if she resided in hell with Uncle Wert and Zog, at least she would be with them. She just wanted to be with them.

Resen’s voice punctuated the stillness. He called out “Petran” then “Wert.” No one responded. His voice echoed back and forth, but no one answered when he called again and again.

Fand had been right. Resen had taken her to her uncle’s grave.

The wind stirred the grass around her. An ant crawled across her boots. She brushed it away. She didn’t have the heart to take its life. She wished she had the courage to take her own. At the sound of Donner approaching Fand closed her eyes. She did not want to see Resen’s face. She did not want his eyes to tell her she was now alone in the world. She did not want to be told, “I’m sorry, but your uncle is dead.”

Resen dismounted and knelt down beside her. With his left hand he lifted her chin up and said, “Look at me.”

Reluctantly she opened her eyes but did not look at him. Her gaze strayed toward the darkening horizon.

He said, “I found no evidence of their bodies. They may still be alive.” His voice broke. Fand glanced up at him. Tears welled in his eyes. With his clenched right fist he rubbed them away. He said, “I am certain they were forced into hiding.”

Stolen story; please report.

Fand whispered, “So certain that you grieve already?” She jerked her chin from his grasp.

Resen didn’t answer her question, instead he told her, “We best get you below ground.” In one deft movement, he scooped her up and put her back on her horse. He laid his hand over hers. “Until we are sure, don’t count your uncle among the dead.”

Though Fand nodded, the truth was, she did not have the courage to hope.

*

The night was alive with crackling electricity. The thunder boomed then echoed. Rain pelted the makeshift cover Resen had positioned over the cellar opening. He was in the barn tending to the horses. Fand rolled onto her side. The disc poked the back of her neck. She sat up and touched the place where it resided. It slipped into her hand. A bolt of lightening flashed. A single shaft of light pierced the dark cellar. The disc became suddenly warm, then hot. Fand dropped it. The metallic disc made a ringing sound as it hit the brick floor. The disc broke open in a pool of white light. A round stone glowed and spun into the air. It hovered over Fand a moment, before it shot across the small space and dropped to the floor. She got up and went to the stone. Beneath it was a burned scrap of paper. The burned paper instantly regenerated. Words in the Ancient Tongue appeared, and then translated themselves. As Fand read the phrase the stone moved restoring the paper as it went. It revealed the sentences, “The Prophet Jerim held the stone of Cedrin in the ring of execution. A beam of moon light passed through the stone and destroyed the army of Caldas. Thus Jerim saved his people. And became known as a great prophet.” The stone stopped. The paper beneath it turned black. The stone flew passed Fand and returned to the disc. The disc snapped shut. She went to the disc and picked it up. It was cool now. She turned it over. There were no pictures or words on it.

The disc burned cold in her hand. It emitted a blue light. Outside she heard the sound of women’s voices singing. Women? She rushed up the ladder and out the cellar doors. In the sky was a fast spinning spiral of blue light. What ever it was, it was not Angs. As the spinning wheel neared she saw it was made of female forms dancing a slow moving dance. The ring hovered over her and she began to rise. Though she should have cried out, she did not. This something that had her was not evil. Up, up she went until she was in the very center of the circle. All the women around her were like reflections of her, except each had a magnificent set of wings. One flew away from the circle and came to her. In a voice as soft as a breeze she said, “We are the concubines of Angs. His poison had bound us to him even in death. By destroying the Spire, you set us free. We are on our way to the place of rest. Thank you.”

Fand asked, “Are you Talbot?”

”I was.”

All at once the circle vanished and Fand floated back to the ground. Still grasping the disc, she looked up at the sky. There was nothing up there but storm clouds. Had it happened or had she just imagined it? Was it just another trick of the poison that had invaded her? She opened her fist and looked at the surface of the disc. it was blank. It revealed nothing.

The hand of Resen gripped her shoulder, she curled her fingers over the disc and turned. In the darkness, she could not make out Resen’s features. He said, “Please tell me that is not what I think it is.”

“What?”

“The thing in your fist.” Had he seen the circle of light? He gave no indication that he had, nor did he ask about it. He did ask, “May I see it please?”

This was not something Fand wanted to share.

For a moment he gazed at the sky but still he said nothing about the blue spinning wheel. When he did speak, he said, “We must get below.” He grabbed hold of her elbow and led her back to the cellar. Once they were below ground he asked again, “May I see it? I promise I’m not going to steal it.”

Reluctantly, Fand opened her palm. Lightening flashed. She saw the words EIUI KAVOS appear on the surface of the disc. She asked, “Do you know what that means?”

“Yes, it means, I am sufficient.”

“Who is sufficient?”

Resen curled Fand’s fingers over the disc. He whispered, “The Keeper is sufficient. And this is a good omen.” He let go of her hand and scratched his head. “Where did you find it?”

Fand shrugged. She didn’t want him to know.

Resen said, “You must tell me. Secrets will only make my job more difficult than it is already.”

Reluctantly Fand told him, “I got it from Zog.” It wasn’t exactly the truth, but it was close.

“How did he get it?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he uncovered it among some of Petran's belongings.”

“So, the lie still persists.” Resen walked away from her and stood at the ladder. Another flash of lightening cast him in silhouette. He shook his head. “Petran never stole that relic. He never got that girl pregnant who accused him of the theft. Someone set him up.”

This was hard to absorb. Only Uncle Wert had defended Petran everyone else had condemned him. Was it possible only Uncle Wert had known the truth?

Resen asked, “Where have you kept this hidden?”

Well, she hadn’t exactly kept it hidden, it hid itself. She said, “In my braid.”

“That is as good a place as any.” Resen started up the ladder. “I best go back and check on Donner. He’s not too fond of storms.”

Fand watched him ascend the ladder. She had expected Resen to ask more questions or at least take the disc away from her, but he had not. The instant he was above ground, the disc flew from her fingers and reinserted itself in the nape of her neck. How it entered and left her skin without pain or laceration, she had no idea. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts and fears, grief and wonder. The scars on her shoulders itched. It was as if the clipped wings wanted to sprout so she could fly again. When she rose up to the center of that circle had she flown? The disc in her neck radiated warmth. The itching of her scars ceased. Had the disc become part of her. Had it claimed her as it had claimed the Prophet Jerim? Why would it claim a mere girl? She mouthed the words, Why Me? No answer came, not that she expected one.

She lay down on her bedroll and pulled her blanket snug around her. Of this she was sure, sleep would not come to her this night. Her body did not agree with her mind, it was tired. Soon she slipped into deep and dreamless sleep.