Over the following week, I attended several executive board meetings with Father. Blane Industries was in a flurry of change and innovation after the press conference. As Father and Stonecipher predicted, the industry readily adopted the design for the new Harbinger vessel, and the unions returned to the negotiation table. The strike came to a swift end.

True to his word, Father sold many of our estates on Earth, keeping only Highveld and a few others which we utilized for business reasons. He transferred as much of the staff as he could to our other properties. Employees he couldn't find jobs for received excellent references and severance packages. The point he instilled was clear. Foundations of authority were composed of people. By meeting their needs, one's base of power remained strong.

I learned much by observation. Others were eager to teach me as well. Mr. Forsyth and Mr. Tremaine became mentors, and I spent long hours at company headquarters. I wanted to excel, and there was always something new to add to my growing list of skills. Eventually, Father persuaded me to take some time off.

Mother and Castor returned a few days later. I expected the usual detached greetings, but that afternoon was different. Mother seemed lighter, somehow. She carried a covered birdcage in one hand, and a clutch purse in the other.

"Hello, my dear," Father said. A cordial yearning edged his smile.

Mother teased with a flick of her eyes. "I heard tell of your triumphant demonstration at the press conference. I'm proud of you, darling."

"I'd say we've both championed the common citizen this week."

"Yes," she said. "We accomplished much for the mission as well."

"May I take this for you?" He reached for the handle of the birdcage.

Juno screeched. "I'm always right!"

Father dropped his hand. "Your bird dislikes me quite a bit."

Mother's laughter mingled with Juno's taunts. "I'll carry her." She turned to me. "And how is your new job, Silas?"

"Well, thank you."

I was unprepared for Castor's dignified approach. There were no childish antics. It was as if he'd grown overnight.

"Are you alright, son?" Father asked.

"Better than ever," Castor said. "I'll tell you about it at dinner."

Later, over a course of filet mignon with mustard wine sauce, he elaborated. "We went to the refugee camps in Lesiranon, to help the people who lost their homes when the Kaezer bombed the cities of Jeshalem and Beimyra last month. I've never seen what the war zones look like in real life. On the holo-vision, the news makes everything seem far away. But these people...Father, why don't we help them? I felt terrible wearing my new boots and clothes, when those kids didn't even have a blanket to keep warm at night. We have to do something more."

Father set his fork down, and glanced at Mother.

She sipped her glass of claret with a remote expression.

"I donate a generous sum to the mission every month." Father smiled. "I'll increase the amount. How does that sound?"

Castor beamed. "I want to include my allowance from now on, too. I don't need it."

My parents admired his nauseating show. Castor had never been concerned with the outside world before. It must be a ploy for attention. I didn't like it.

"This is all very sentimental, Castor," I said, keeping a refined tone. "But it'll take a lot more than giving away your credits to make a difference. How will you actually assist the downtrodden? In between your studies, of course."

"I'm joining the mission project, and I'll be volunteering as much as I can during my breaks."

"A hefty commitment at your age," Father said. "Are you sure about this, son?"

"Yes. I've finally found what I like to do...helping people."

I sighed, annoyed by Castor's gloating. As long as he stayed out of my way, I could tolerate him. Working for the mission would require him to visit Highveld often. Overall, the arrangement would work in my favor. Pleased by the thought, I finished my entree, and the footman removed my plate.

Mother cleared her throat, and set her left hand upon the table, her skull ring glinting in the candlelight. "Silas, Mrs. Forsyth has issued her invitations, and the gathering is tomorrow night. Will you be able to come?"

"Of course," I said. "Please send her my acknowledgment." I'd been working so much lately, I'd almost forgotten about The Order's impending summons.

Father looked at me, brow furrowed. "When did you become interested in their little social club?" he asked.

A social club was a good cover, and I played along. "During Mrs. Forsyth's last visit."

"Well, it's good to see you boys spending more time with your Mother." He locked eyes with her.

She said nothing, and covered a yawn with her fingers.

The next morning, I went to the office with Father. I spent most of the afternoon with Mr. Tremaine, learning to monitor the resource reports. Though it was a daunting task, I applied myself heartily. I went home when I was finished, to rest before the gathering.

Mother called just as I woke from a nap. "The circle we'll be visiting tonight is over in Chandara," she said. "Wear something comfortable, but appropriate for a social outing. And bring the athame I gave you."

Following her suggestion, I chose a dark gray suit, with a pressed dress shirt and black silk tie. It was like preparing for a casual dinner party, with the exception of the aged bone knife hidden on my belt.

The sedan waited in the driveway, and I met Mother there as night fell across the dome.

"How dashing you are." She kissed above my cheeks to avoid smearing her makeup.

Her sleeves trailed down the sides, ending in tasseled points. Stockings and garters flashed as she walked to the car, revealed through the plunging slit at the front of the skirt. Black plumes curled from the rippled waves of her hair, which was set at the nape of her neck. She pulled her evening wrap around her shoulders as Crawford shut the door behind us.

"I thought you said this was an informal affair," I said.

She smiled. "It is for you. This is my night as the oracle, and I must present myself accordingly."

"The oracle?"

"You'll see soon enough," she said, squeezing my arm affectionately. "And in the future, you'll serve as one, too. Oh, my dear, sweet son. I'm so pleased that you're coming."

Her doting annoyed me as always, but I was used to it now. She cuddled against me the entire way to the adjacent arcology known as Chandara. It was about an hour's ride, and the sun disappeared beneath the horizon as we crossed over the arterial connecting the settlements.

"Mother, what exactly does Father think of these meetings? Does he know what The Order is?"

"He knows what we do," she said. "I told him as much as I could long ago, without breaking the rules of secrecy. He thinks it's just a theatrical performance. No. We raise true power. And you're a part of us now."

Chandara was similar to Belenus. The majority of elite citizens such as ourselves lived on the less populated outskirts. We arrived at a great house about three miles in, a pretentious brass and iron gate barring the way to all outsiders. The security guards stopped us.

Mother rolled her window down, greeting them with her most enticing smile.

"I believe we have special guests," the closest guard said.

Mother tilted her head. "Yes. The name is Mrs. Tibia."

The guard waved us through with a dramatic bow, the gate sliding open. Beyond waited a long driveway, lit with torches on both sides. We disembarked before a pillared colonnade. More torches and lanterns glowed from every eave and overhang.

The brass doors ahead displayed auras of parallel bars, shining around a pair of armored goddesses. Each brandished a sword, the tips pointed to the ground. Borders of interlocking diamond shapes gave them modern definition.

I was about to ask who this property belonged to, when the elaborate doors swung open. There were no footmen or servants, nor any hosts to greet us.

Mother's hand coiled around my arm. "Don't be afraid. The virtues are, in this order: beauty, joy, will, and wisdom. Remember these, in every question you're asked tonight." Her face warned me with amusement. She surveyed me with one downward cast of her eyes, and went inside. Her brisk stride clashed against the silence. Sconces of what appeared to be genuine bones led her further down the passage.

I hesitated at the entrance. All I heard was the assured tap of Mother's heels, the flap of silk in her wake, the pace of my own breath. I took a few steps after her, removing my glasses in the dark.

Figures moved at the end of the corridor, swift and silent. Draped in dark velvet cloaks, I saw only the pale leer of their skull masks, heard only the hiss of their blades. One of them seized Mother from behind, and held her against him. The other wielded a silver dagger against her throat.

Mother grinned.

"The Guardians protect," said one of the men.

"I come in beauty and joy, bearing the will and the wisdom," she said, displaying neither submission nor terror. She winked at me.

When they grabbed me, I uttered the same statement. I didn't know what the words meant, but they granted me entry.

Mother took my hands, and led me through the foyer. She pushed a pair of heavy doors open, and we entered a magnificent ballroom.

Soft music played, a trio of viola, cello, and bandoneon. A hundred people mingled about. Conversation and laughter waltzed alongside the couples on the textured hardwood dance floor. Two fireplaces blazed at either end of the chamber, a parade of bone masks and accouterments flickering red and orange in the glow. Generous refreshment tables lined the walls, under garlands of flowers decked between skulls. It could pass for an eccentric costume ball. Perhaps the ruse of a social club wasn't far off.

I followed Mother through the crowd. Heads turned, observing me. Could any of these disguised merrymakers be someone I knew? I suddenly wanted a mask, too.

My wish was granted when a young girl approached. Black and violet chiffon flowed with each step she took, strings of beads and silver chains glistening along her shoulders and neck. Her grin teased beneath the bare fangs edging her skull mask.

"I have something for you," she said, presenting a mask fashioned in the likeness of a raven. The black beak protruded from a fanned array of feathers. "Let me help you tie it on."

It was safe to keep my glasses off, as flame only enhanced my vision. I bowed my head, and she secured the leather lacings for me. I recognized the gray eyes peering from her deathly sockets. "Miss Forsyth, is that you?"

"None other."

Mother placed an arm around her. "Hello, Maeve. I've brought a special guest tonight."

"I'd say he's the guest of honor," Imogen said. "Come, she's waiting for us."

At the far end of the room, before one of the roaring hearths, a cluster of people surrounded a strange woman. Clad in a gown of misty veils, she held a studded goblet in one hand. Brunette ringlets tumbled around her shoulders, streaming from a headdress of standing feathers, beaded designs, and fur trim. A pair of young antlers branched from the sides of her deer skull mask, tiny bells and baubles chiming. Fragrant smoke wafted from a pair of brass skull braziers, candle flames winking in the draft of her advance.

"Kneel, and address her as 'My Lady'," Mother said. She smoothed her skirts and sank elegantly to one knee.

Imogen did the same.

I imitated the submission, keeping my eyes down. I recognized the Lady's commanding presence, and the firm set of her jawline beneath the bone facade. It was Mrs. Forsyth, wife of my father's Chief Financial Officer, a person well below me in status. Yet within these esoteric walls, everything was contrary. Here, she was a goddess, and I her supplicant.

She traced the edge of my raven mask with one finger. "I see we have a newcomer to the fold," she said. "What do you seek, young man?"

I was bewildered, as she'd invited me here. But I remembered Mother's instructions. "I seek to know beauty, joy, will, and wisdom, My Lady."

Approval murmured through the bystanders.

"A flawless response. You learn quickly." She motioned for us to rise with a twirl of one wrist. "Allow me to introduce myself. You know me already by my earthly name. But within the circles and the Otherworld, I am Lady Selketh Av Dodsneret. First and Last Mother of the Rites, High Ordained Priestess of the Order of Sacred Skulls, and Keeper of the Blessed Elixir. I understand you wish to learn more about the ways of Knoseidtru."

"Yes, My Lady," I said.

"Tonight, you'll behold the full expression of the Song of Bone, manifested through a most gifted oracle--our own Verthandis, she who sees all that lies between."

I glanced at Mother. These odd names must be secret identities within the sanctum.

"It's time," the Lady said. "Go and prepare for the ceremony, all of you."

Several people assented in what sounded like Pruessian. "Jie, Eldnya Dama."

Mother smiled, and whispered to me. "The journey begins. Watch the others, and they'll show you the way." Then she followed the participants through a curtained doorway.

Lady Selketh placed a hand on Imogen's shoulder. "Initiate Maev, please serve as the guide for our guest tonight."

Imogen curtsied. "With pleasure, My Lady."

I was left with Imogen, the music, sweet smoke, and muted candlelight.

"You remind me of myself, on the first night I experienced all of this," she said. "What do you think?"

I'd never really conversed with her before, but she was my only connection to familiarity at that moment. "It's interesting," I said. "Tell me, who does this house belong to?"

She tossed her head, beads swinging alongside her concealed face. "This is the Circle of Chandara, obviously. The house itself is owned by Lord Interpreter Abraxos, a member of the Inner Quorum. He's one of the Guardians in Knoseidtru. This was the first circle to be established off-world. Thanks to Lady Selketh, we now we have several shrines among the colonies." She sighed. "Now we wait for the ritual to begin. I can hardly bear the suspense. Do you feel the power tonight?"

"I've noticed something, ever since I arrived," I said, "but I have a lot of questions."

"I did too, at first," she said. "Everything will be revealed to you soon. I hope you'll become an Initiate, like me. Perhaps we could study together."

I'd never been fond of her before, considering her a tiresome bore. However, seeing her in the contrast of firelight, in the garb of beauty and death, stirred an unexpected longing. "Would you care to dance, Miss Forsyth? Or must I call you Initiate Maev?"

She slowly took my arm. "You may call me Imogen, if it pleases you. And yes, I'd love to."

She was adept, better than myself at keeping time and step.

"What first drew you to join the Order?" I asked, as we whirled among skeletal visages.

"Aunt Phyllis told me stories when I was little," she said. "About the Guardians, and the immortal voices which speak from the bones. I felt the power in those tales, and Auntie initiated me when I was old enough, at thirteen. My family isn't Pruessian, but I've always loved their ancient ways. The Order keeps them alive, preserving them for future generations."

"Is the Order truly of Pruessian origin?"

"In the beginning, yes. Your great-grandfather, Kraelis Jaster, brought it to the orbital society for the first time. Over the years, he incorporated the wisdom of other cultures as well. What a blessing for these difficult times."

The music came to a rousing finish, and applause ensued. Voices were tense with excitement. The large doors at the opposite side of the room opened.

All dancing and socializing ended. Everyone headed toward the exit.

"From here on, never speak unless you're spoken to," Imogen said. "Never look anyone in the eye without permission. And always address the Inner Quorum by their proper titles. They'll identify themselves with the Guardians. Do you understand?"

I could only nod.

Beyond the doors lay a lush garden. Amphitheater tiers surrounded a terrace paved with worn stone. Only the evenly spaced lanterns marked the path. Darkness and light met in distinct lines against every column and statue. A circle of inlaid silver was set into the ground, wincing in reflection of the open flames, mysterious sigils etched around it. At the center, an altar spilled over with offerings of bone, incense, and candles. Most prominent upon it was an immense bronze cauldron filled with murky liquid. Antiquated figures of animals and humans morphing together were hammered into the sides.

More than a dozen people stood at attention in the middle of the pavilion, with Lady Selketh at the forefront. Before the altar, a petite woman knelt in meditation. As we drew closer, I realized it was Mother, bent in reverence while her audience gathered. Her ivory skin showed smooth and flawless beneath a mantle woven of small bones. She'd removed her gown, wearing only a primitive beaded guise. Ashen paint covered her face and shoulders. Dark smudges resembled bare sockets over her eyes and nose, and teeth were scrawled across her lips, a striking yet simplistic portrayal of a skull.

Imogen led me to a spot along the first row.

Once all of the guests were present, Lady Selketh stepped to the altar, facing Mother. Three people drifted to marked points on the circle. They wore barbaric regalia similar to Mother's, woven meshes of beads and bones dangling from exposed limbs, their flesh covered in feral paint. Several others spread through the audience, each carrying an oil lamp, and a small dish of dark liquid they'd dipped from the cauldron.

Lady Selketh threw her head back, jeweled hair and feathers cascading down her back. Her sleeves fanned from her outstretched arms, delicate spirals and the effigies of two grinning human skulls embroidered in metallic thread. "Hail to the seekers, and the keepers of the Old Ways," she said, her voice imploring.

The assembly answered, in monotone unison. "Hail the Guardians of the Circle."

"We come before you, riding the chariot of the moon goddess," said The Lady. "Hear our call, spirits of death and time." She pulled an athame from the engraved sheath on her belt, and held it aloft.

Everyone gathered did the same. I drew mine as well.

Nearly forgetting the rule of silence, I turned to ask Imogen why we were doing this. She shook her head, placing a finger against her lips to remind me. An answer came soon enough, when one of the bearers brought the lamp and vessel of liquid.

Imogen passed the tip of her athame through the lamp flame four times. Then she dipped the point into the offered liquid, capturing a few oily drops. She pricked the center of her palm, allowing the mixture to sink into the wound.

Asulma. When my turn came, I swallowed. I knew the overwhelming effect it had on me. Here, among all of these people, I dreaded how I might react. Nevertheless, I cleansed my blade, and mimicked the ceremonial application. As before, my blood pounded with a heartbeat outside my own as it absorbed the concoction.

The bearers returned to the center, and one by one set their tools alongside the altar. They formed semi-arced groups around the four people standing on the intricate symbols. Those behind Lady Selketh began a chant, which was echoed by the rest of the congregation.

Mother still huddled upon the ground, silent, staring at the odd pile of bone instruments before her.

"Knoseidtru, astisya il nos..." The chant intensified, droning at a persistent rhythm.

The Lady raised her athame before the man at the first point of the circle. He wore a mask shaped like a bird of prey, a magnificent cloak of feathers around his shoulders.

"Who descends from the east?" Lady Selketh asked.

The man spoke boldly. "Lord Interpreter Abraxos, I call the spirit of Adlorel before us."

Mother stood, fetching a leather bundle from the heap of bones. She presented it to the stocky, older man dressed like a dead eagle, this Lord Interpreter Abraxos.

He unwrapped what appeared to be a handful of hollow bone pipes, and gave one to each of the bearers near him, keeping the largest for himself.

Next, Lady Selketh approached a slender woman, dressed in wild fur and a breastplate of fangs and talons. The skull of a predator snarled over her eyes.

"Who descends from the south?" asked The Lady.

"Grand Lorekeeper Skulda, I call the spirit of Fenvolvna before us," the woman replied. She accepted the handful of peculiar items from Mother. They were animal skulls mounted on rods, dangling bones, rocks, beads, and bits of wood tied around them with leather cord.

Mother finally gathered an armful of skulls and long bones from the pile.

The Asulma captured my Sight, shadows shivering around me. The chant helped me to focus. I tried to remember the names and titles being announced.

Lady Selketh reached the third Guardian, a man bedecked in the splendor of a stag. "Who descends from the west?" she asked.

"Noble Steward Cyrilio, I call the spirit of Olenhesch before us." He presented Mother's skulls and what appeared to be leg bones to each person near him.

Auras trembled around Mother, intensified by the elixir in my veins. She resumed her position before the altar.

Lady Selketh paced around the circle four times, hands raised in her petition to the Otherworld. "Who descends from the north? Lady Selketh av Dosneret, I call the spirits of all the ancestors before us. By the four, we cast the circle round, Song of Bone herein be bound. Knoseidtru, astisya il nos. Potye av gehmnesser..."

Energy rushed through me, almost electric. I stumbled, my vision tossing.

Imogen grabbed my arm, her macabre mask quivering with life.

I steadied myself as the ceremony unfolded.

The Guardian representing Olenhesch and his bearers clacked their bones against the skulls, a percussive wave enfolding all in its swell. Fenvolvna and her wild bunch shook their rattling wands of bone and trinkets. Then, the patrons of Adlorel blew upon the flutes and whistles. A high-pitched wail sliced through the air, resembling the keen of a raptor in flight.

Discordant, yet haunting, the Song of Bone began. I watched it flow, thrumming around everyone.

Mother knelt before the altar, and purified her athame in the flame. She drew the blade across all of her fingertips, and the palms of both hands. "Knoseidtru, veknadit il mig," she said, as blood trickled in ruby beads down her wrists.

Lady Selketh again saluted the Guardians, and the chant escalated.

Mother washed her hands within the large cauldron on the altar, splashing copious amounts of the elixir upon her neck and face. She rose to the trill and clatter of the bone song. For several minutes, she gyrated and whirled in a trance. Throwing her head about, her eyes glazed over in bliss. She dove back to the cauldron, and doused herself with more Asulma. Before long, she'd poured the contents over herself. Her dance became a frenzy.

The music grew shrill, more dissonant. It sounded as if voices shrieked from the soil, the stones, the sky.

The dose of Asulma I'd just taken was smaller than the last time. My vision became a mirror, projecting a second reality atop the actual one. I recognized the power, saw it moving, building, embracing.

Mother careened, and one of the Guardians caught her, gently urging her back into the circle.

Without warning, my Sight awakened to full clarity. I heard the voices in the music. They'd tormented me in dreams before. Before my enlightened eyes, Mother transformed--fingers to feathers, arms to wings, eyes rolled white. I saw her spirit burst free as an ecstatic bird.

"The gateway," she mumbled, reaching for a platter of small bones on the altar. "The gate is open..."

Lady Selketh sang. "We hear you, voices beyond the veil. We hear you, ancestors and guides. Share with us your beauty, your joy, your will, your wisdom."

Mother cried out, with both fear and rejoicing. I heard her voice in my head.

"Tread carefully, my son. Your path shall be wrought with peril."

She threw the carved pieces of bone across the stone tile. Each bore a rune, creating an ominous arrangement at her feet. The music reached an impossible crescendo, and she thrashed to the commotion.

"Daring enough, Mr. Blane?" An unknown woman taunted me. Startled, I looked at Imogen.

She was enraptured within the chant. It wasn't her.

Everything faded, except for Mother and the bones. Footprints appeared, fragile marks upon sand. I followed them, staggering into the circle as if pushed by a current. The footprints wavered, and filled with thick red blood.

Mother whipped about, shock lining her face.

The music and chanting stopped.

I came to, and found myself on my hands and knees before the altar, incredulous stares creeping over me.

Mother placed a hand soaked in Asulma against my cheek. "Greatness is your fate, but the precipice waits for you." She collapsed, shuddering.

The impending steps of Lady Selketh resounded over astonished stillness. "You've broken the rite," she said. "And our most important law." She dominated my view, tall against the glistening dark.

My throat tightened. "I'm sorry, My Lady."

The Lady's lips curled into a smile. "Have no fear. You're new, and thus we'll forgive this trespass. Answer us now, as you're so moved by the Old Ways. Will you join us, and surrender to the Song of Bone, from this day forth?"

"Yes," I said. "I choose this path."

"Then I hereby decree, before the seekers, the guides, and the Guardians, that you belong to us." Her grin dripped with satisfaction as she stroked my hair. "Welcome to The Order Of Sacred Skulls, young Initiate."

Two nearby bearers helped me stand, and led me to a spot just outside the circle.

Imogen sat beside me, and I reassured her with a nod.

Lord Interpreter Abraxos hovered over the scatter of runed bones, assessing the omen. "Verthandis speaks true, as always," he said, pointing. "The blessed gate opens here. From it, the tree sprouts forth, its branches unstoppable. We will encompass the world, from the seeds we've sown this very night."

Lady Selketh laughed. "The oracle has spoken. So it shall be."

The congregation answered in unison. "So it shall be."

Once the Inner Quorum was satisfied with the interpretation, Lady Selketh settled the power with four raps of a staff tipped in animal skulls. "The circle is open," she said, "and surrounds us always."

The Guardians lifted Mother to her feet, and carried her back into the house.

The Asulma began to subside, and I gradually regained my composure.

Imogen reached for my hand.

"I knew it," she said. "You're a seer, too. Most people don't experience Asulma in such a way. But your family is different. The Jasters are one of the strongest shamanic lines. I'm honored to have shared this night with you, Initiate."

She lifted her mask, and brushed her lips against my cheek.

I realized for the first time how pretty she was. Unsettled, I moved away from her. "Thank you for your company this evening, Miss Forsyth," I said. "Excuse me. I'd like to check on my Mother."

Her storm cloud eyes flashed. "Of course. I look forward to our next meeting."

I hurried away, before I allowed my growing fondness to reveal itself. Gerald would mock me to no end for finding his cousin attractive. I'd be wise to keep it a secret, along with everything else I'd seen tonight.

The crowd wandered inside, and engaged in quiet discussions around the ballroom. The music and refreshments were pleasant, but a somber atmosphere prevailed.

I found Mother in a nearby room, reclining upon a cushioned velvet chaise with one arm thrown across her paint-smeared brow.

High Lorekeeper Skulda gave her a glass of water, then opened the doors to the adjacent veranda. A breeze fluttered the gauzy curtains, bestowing coolness and tranquility.

I approached, but Mother didn't see me.

"She'll come to in a few minutes," the High Lorekeeper said. She pushed her lupine skull mask back, and I was surprised at her identity. I'd met her before, a friend of Mother's from the mission, named Agnes Hammond. The Order apparently had followers among many reaches of society.

"I'll stay with her, High Lorekeeper," I said, being sure to use the proper title.

Mrs. Hammond, Skulda, or Fenvolvna--being all three in this mesmerizing place--gave me a kind smile. "You're a promising one," she said. "We'll see if your mother's prophecy fulfills itself in time."

She left me alone with Mother.

"My son..." Mother took my hand.

"Can I fetch anything for you?" I asked.

She kissed my fingers and smiled. "No. You've already given me joy beyond imagining."

I glanced at a nearby candle, sputtering near the open window, "I didn't mean to interrupt you and spoil everything," I said. "I heard...a girl. She's spoken to me before, in dreams. I followed her footsteps to you."

She chuckled. "You didn't spoil anything. You were a part of my vision. We stood at the edge of a great cliff. One day, we'll fly over it, you and I. It won't stop us from claiming our birthright."

"What obstacles do we face?"

"I don't know. Such is the nature of traveling between the realms--always a riddle to be solved. But we'll find out someday."

A few hours later, we rode home to Silvring Hall. She fell asleep on my shoulder, and I put my arm around her. My Sight was leading me somewhere. Each time, I got closer. Yet the answers still eluded me, melting to nothing in the end.