The crowded dining room table was loaded with food. If not for the open windows, Pyre would feel like he was suffocating. His mind was still reeling after what happened on the Meeting Hill. He felt dazed and he was very confused. Never did he expect to be chosen over Zog. What had happened? What?

At the head of the table, Jerue stood with his challis of dark wine raised to Pyre. In a clear voice he said, "To you my son. May you carry on the traditions of Our Fathers with grace and dedication." Jerue touched his challis to Pyre's. All around the table the challis clinked. One by one his uncles made toasts in Pyre's honor. In the past they had barely acknowledged his presence, but today it was as if he had turned into a true Holz, worthy of their last name. As he listened to the words spoken in his honor, the forced smile he wore atrophied his face. His stomach churned. He did not deserve this. In his mind Jerue said, "Yes, you do. A fantastical world awaits you. Remember the Keeper has called you, therefore you are equal to the task."

Pyre did not believe this and more than that he didn't care. He could still hear Zog's suppressed gasp when his name had not been called. His devastation had passed through Pyre’s body and it had hurt like smoldering coals on raw skin. He felt like the entire earth had shifted in the wrong direction. Had it only been two days ago that he had been preparing his proposal to Fand? Would he be in this mess if he had not bungled his proposal or at least waited as Zog had suggested? He would never know. What he did know was the Zog had not stayed through the closing prayer and neither had Fand. Where were they now? Zog must hate him.

His Uncle Ruben suddenly stood and said, “Never thought you’d garner such an honor boy! You have surprised us all. There is more to you than we thought.”

Embarrassed Pyre said, “Thank you.” He looked around the table at all the smiling faces. Didn’t they know he was still just Pyre the bumbler? No matter what they thought, his life would be nothing without Fand. Once again Jerue entered his mind, "Don't entertain such thoughts. You are mistaken. You would be nothing with her." This intrusion into Pyre's thoughts unsettled and frightened him. Jerue looked at him sternly. Pyre ducked his head and began to shovel food into his mouth. With all his strength he willed himself not to think of Fand.

After the dinner Jerue said, "Come, let us go for a walk."

Pyre did not want to go. He had planned to sneak over to the Geworden's to check on Zog. Jerue gripped his elbow and steered him outside. The afternoon was turning unseasonably warm. The blue wool of Pyre's Appointee shirt itched. He followed Jerue through the hay field and then into the potato field. From there they cut across to the meadow where cows grazed. Jerue stopped. He studied the distant Ruhe Mountains. "The mountains are quite beautiful in this light.”

Pyre nodded. He had planned to take Fand to the Ruhe Inn after their marriage. A bitter taste filled his mouth. Jerue began to walk again. Pyre followed. When they reached the brook, Pyre saw Fand. In that moment all that he was rushed toward her in his mind. How many times over the years had he sat with her the flat stone that jutted out over the brook? It was her favorite spot. In her hands was a tattered piece of parchment. One of her father's letters most likely. She always read them when she was upset. She turned. Her eyes were red and she had the welt of a hand print on her left cheek. Uncle Wert must have struck her again. Damn him! He wanted to run to her and comfort her, but he found himself unable to move.

Fand stood. She folded her letter and put it in her apron pocket. When she turned, she saw them. Her expression changed. Oh, no, her temper was on the rise. She quickly covered the distance between them. She got right in Jerue's face and asked, "Why was Zog denied?"

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Caustically, Jerue scolded, "You shall not address me so, young woman." He glared at her, but it had no effect.

In Fand’s eyes was the ice of her anger. Her anger was not hot like a fire, but cold like a searing wind. Again she asked, "Why was he denied? I demand to know!”

This was not going to turn out well. Pyre felt the pitch of his heart rate begin to clamor.

All at once Jerue's face softened and a peculiar light came into his eyes. His tone changed entirely. He said, "The ways of the Keeper are mysterious."

Fand stood very tall and said, "So I have been told. Answer me this, did you know last night that Zog would be denied?"

Jerue shook his head. "Oh, no, I did not. I was as surprised as anyone.”

Pyre was aware Fand did not believe the Head Council Man. He prayed she would not say so out loud.

She remained silent while Jerue continued, “The names of the apprentices are not known until the pins are unrolled. The Keeper must have his reasons, and we must trust that they will be revealed." Jerue placed his hand on Fand's shoulder and asked, "Are not the turn of events an answer to your prayers?"

Pyre saw Fand's face go white, except for the large welt on her cheek. She bit her lip and nodded.

Jerue said, "The Keeper would not have granted your petition if it were not for the best."

Fand whispered, "You think so?"

"Yes. In time, you will see." Jerue removed his hand from Fand's shoulder and touched the dove at her throat. "Where did you get this?"

"My mother."

Jerue nodded and smiled. "It is very lovely."

"Thank you Sir." Fand turned to Pyre. "Please come by this evening. It would do Zog good, to see you."

Before Pyre could answer, Jerue said, "I am afraid that is impossible."

"Why?" Fand asked.

"By nightfall, if your cousin returns, he will not be in any condition to receive visitors."

This time Fand's face flushed red. She nodded, softly said, “Please excuse me,” and ran toward home.

Confused by this exchange, Pyre asked, “Where is Zog?"

In a flat voice, Jerue said, "The Tavern, partaking of its many sensual delights.”

Pyre could not believe this. Zog would never turn so quickly.

With a sad shake of his head, Jerue said, "It is true son. Blood tells. It always does."

The phrase, “Blood tells,” echoed inside of Pyre. Was Jerue implying that Zog would sink into his cups the way his father had? All at once it occurred to him that the hand print on Fand’s face was too large to have been made by Uncle Wert, but not too large to be made by Zog. Had Zog struck her? Why? He never had before. Why would he strike her? The bastard! Anger boiled up inside of Pyre.

Jerue said, “Come along Pyre. I need to get back, I have other Apprentices to congratulate.” The Head Councilman’s long legs carried him quickly across the meadow. Half a step behind him, Pyre hurried along lost in thought. How much more violence would be visited upon Fand? He would not be there to protect her or defend her.

Jerue stopped and turned to him. "Pyre, you must stop this. Too much of your energy is being spent on the Gewordens. Here you have received the highest honor a young man can receive and instead of enjoying your triumph you are worrying over friends who do not deserve to be considered your friends."

Pyre found this comment harsh. In fact it echoed Uncle Wert's sentiment that Jerue did indeed hate the Gewordens. Not only did he hate them, he considered them unworthy trash.

In a softer tone Jerue continued, "Dear Pyre, your loyalty and steadfastness are truly humbling, but they will cost you if you don't submit them to the will of the Keeper.”

In all his life, Pyre had never asked for nor received any divination of what the will of the Keeper might be. He did not want it now. What a cussed mess this all was. If he had not signed those damned papers the other night would any of this be happening?

Jerue startled Pyre by speaking in his mind. He said, “Your acceptance of your Divine Destiny did not create this chaos in the Geworden home. Sah-Zog is the culprit, not you. Because he did not get what he thought he deserved he turned away from his belief. Is that belief? Or was it selfish delusion? I had hoped he was not like his father, but he is. That is not your fault. So let that thought go.”

Really? Pyre was too afraid to ponder that question further. Jerue was in his mind and any thought he had, Jerue would know. He turned his mind to farm work. As they made their way back to the house, Pyre kept his brain busy figuring out the harvest schedule. If Jerue was still monitoring his thoughts he could not tell and he would not risk it.