In the weeks that had passed, Pyre was learning the rhythm of the Council. Besides the comprehension review tests there were also tests of loyalty and devotion. Each apprentice had an earthly chore to ground him. Some how Pyre had had the poor luck of being put on kitchen clean up duty. He wrinkled his nose. Cook Grayson’s food had not improved with time and would not improve. Eating was for fuel not flavor, at least that seemed to be Cook Grayson’s creed.

With a wet rag, Pyre wiped down the tables, and then banked the fire for the night. After he checked the entire kitchen for the night, he picked up his regulation pack. He had time to study before curfew. He locked the dining hall door and dashed across the empty Common. The night was bright. He looked up and stared into the face of the full moon. Tonight its color echoed the color of Fand's eyes, when she was in a tranquil mood, which was seldom. Quickly he pushed the thought of her away from him. He must not think of her. No telling who might be monitoring his thoughts tonight. He ducked his head and ran to the dormitory. Once inside he closed his cubicle door and lit a candle. On the table was a letter. It had the seal of Wert Geworden, but it was not his handwriting. He broke the seal. His fingers began to tremble. Fand's swirling script burned into his eyes. He read:

Pyre,

Zog seems bent on destroying himself. He is brawling at The Tavern every night and he visits the rooms upstairs. Sometimes he doesn't come home at all. Please write to him. He could use a word of encouragement.

Wert Geworden

Pyre ran his finger over the surface of the parchment. How could this be? How could Zog fall so far? He never would have believed it possible.There was a knock on his door. Pyre stuffed Fand's letter into his pack. He called, "Come in."

Jerue entered. The Head Councilman seldom, if ever visited the dormitory. His presence was an unexpected honor. He asked, "Join me for a walk." It was not a request but an order. Jerue never made requests.

Pyre said, "Yes, Sir.”

The Head Councilman smiled and led Pyre back into the night. As they walked, Pyre kept his eyes off the moon and studied the pavement. He must not think of Fand.

After a while, Jerue said, "I hear from Master Uber that you are passing."

"Yes, sir."

"See, I told you, you were capable of more than you realized."

"Yes, Sir."

"I have felt your peace during prayer time. I think," Jerue paused, he looked at Pyre and said, "No, I am sure The Council agrees with you."

As unbelievable as it had first seemed this had come to pass. Pyre enjoyed the rhythms of the Council life. Beginning and ending his day in prayer had brought him a sense of peace he had never experienced before. His lessons challenged his mind and he discovered an intellectual prowess he didn't know he possessed. He actually remembered far more of the lessons Elder Zwar had taught him than he thought he did. Still, the lessons were hard. He knew he was the dumbest Apprentice, but he had by far exceeded his own expectations.

They turned east and headed toward the Inner Sanctum. It backed the Common where worship services were held. It was a domed circular granite building with large columns. There were not any windows, only two ornately carved wooden doors that lead into it. The stars and the moon were carved on the door. The moon was inlaid with silver and the stars with gold. The Inner Sanctum housed The Council’s most Sacred Rituals.

In the stillness of the night came the low moan of the wind. A sudden gust hit them full in the face. Pyre squinted his eyes to protect them from the swirling dust. Jerue stopped and looked up at the sky. His eyes were on the moon. From the moon a shaft of rainbow light spiraled into the domed ceiling of the Inner Sanctum. Without looking at him Jerue dismissed Pyre and rushed to the heavy wooden doors of the Inner Sanctum. Pyre stood transfixed by the spiraling rainbow light. The doors of the Inner Sanctum flew open with a bang. Pyre looked through them. The interior shimmered like a multicolored cloud. The smell of rotting flesh wafted into the street. The sound of blowing leaves filled Pyre's ears. Jerue slammed the doors closed.

A strange singing sound erupted in the sky. Pyre turned toward it. A mist of blue light raced along the eastern horizon. It shot up and blotted out the moon. Terror seized him. What was going on?

From behind him a low voice said, "Pyre."

He turned to face Appocca. The elder said, "Come, you must obey Jerue."

Pyre asked, "What is that?"

"I can't explain it now. We must get you to your cubicle." Appocca cupped Pyre's elbow and lead him back to the dormitory.

To Pyre's surprise Appocca accompanied him to his room and closed the door behind him. Appocca whispered, "Speak to no one of what you have seen this night. Jerue will probably send a potion to make you forget. Do not drink it."

This was strange. Pyre stared at Appocca. He asked, "Why not?"

With earnest eyes, Appocca said, "It is not good to forget."

Pyre asked, "What did I see?"

"I can not tell you now. You have yet to learn the skills needed to guard such a secret. If I told you, your life would be in danger, as would every life connect to yours."

Pyre felt cold fear seep through him. Heavily he sat down on his cot. The Elder Councilman came to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. He said, "I initially came to impart this message to you. When you return to Tashe, tell Zog his destiny will find him, but he must be patient. Tell him to repent and move forward. All is not lost regardless of how it seems. He has a fine mind and many gifts. He must not waste them."

Confused, Pyre said, “But, Jerue told me to sever all ties with the Gewordens.”

“I know. I also know that it is an impossible demand.” He paused and glanced at Pyre’s regulation pack. "Do not answer Fand's letter. Destroy it and don't write her back."

He knew about the letter? Nothing was secret here. Still he could not, would not destroy the letter.

Reading his thoughts, Appocca said, “You must. Letters from females are not allowed here. If it is discovered, it will appear that you harbor a concubine. It would not be hard to find someone one who would testify to your obsession with the Geworden girl. At best your reputation would be ruined as well as hers. At worst, well, a judgment could be passed that you would not survive.”

“What? Are your suggesting execution?” Appocca did not answer. Thoughts of what Uncle Wert referred to as the murder of Petran Schon flashed through his mind.

The Elder Councilman continued, “Besides, no one would believe that Wert Geworden would send a letter to the Council City regardless of how worried he was about his son."

So the Elder Councilman even knew the contents of his letter. Had he read it, or divined it?

Again, on point with Pyre’s thoughts, Appocca replied, "I did not read it. Still, the contents are safe with me. It is possible Fand believed The Council is so bigoted against women that a literate female would never be suspected, but she would be wrong. I have never underestimated the female mind or determination. Neither does Jerue. It is one thing we have in common.” Appocca patted Pyre's shoulder and said, “It is time for me to be on my way. Take care Pyre. Mind your thoughts.”

"I will. Good night Sir."

Appocca nodded and left the room. Pyre locked the door behind him. From his pack, he took the letter. The instant he touched it, it was if Fand entered the room. His fingers traced her fine script. How he wanted to keep this letter. He wanted to have it to hold and read. Just as he opened it, someone knocked on his door. He certainly was popular tonight. He stuffed the letter under his pillow and opened the door.

A young man with fair hair dressed in white infirmary robes stood in the hallway. He held a small vial in his hand. "I'm Loren Uhr, Dr. Kran's assistant. Jerue had Dr. Kran concoct this for you. It will help ease your mind."

Pyre took the vial. Its blue liquid sloshed to one side. He asked, "What is it?"

The young man shrugged. "I don't know. But it will put you out, I guarantee it."

"Thank you." Pyre started to close the door.

Loren didn't let him close it. He said, "No, Jerue told me I have to watch you drink it.”

Blast it all, Pyre thought. Now what am I supposed to do? Jerue said drink it, Appocca said don't. Jerue out ranks Appocca. Pyre opened the vial. He poured it in his mouth. The oily liquid burned his tongue.

Loren grinned and said, "Potent stuff."

Pyre nodded and closed his door. He spit the liquid into his chamber pot. It hissed when it made contact with his urine. Within seconds a heavy drowsiness descended upon him. He stumbled to his cot and lay down. His tongue and his lips felt numb, so did his mind. He began to drift in a warm sunlit world.

*

The next morning when Pyre awoke, he had a fuzzy memory of lights and wind, but nothing else. He yawned. What funny dreams he had had. After he dressed he opened his Keepsake box. He touched Fand's lock of hair, and then he remembered the letter. Where had he put it? He snatched up his pillow. The letter was gone!