Ch. 4: Sophia

Back to Arheled

             Ronnie   Wendy   mounted   the   steep   bank   to   the   library,   leaving   his   bike   locked   to   a   signpost   on   the   street   below. He   wondered   if   he   could   slip   past   the   librarians   and use   the   computer   without   having   to   sign   on   for   once. Something   about   the   lack   of   anonymity   at   the   Beardsley   Library   was   beginning   to   get   him   wary:   the   small-town   atmosphere   of   the   farmhouse-like   layout   seemed   to   make   it   impossible   to   slip   quietly   through. The   librarians   always   wandered   about,   watching. The   director,   Mrs. Linda,   was   the   worst. She   had   a   papery   oldish   face   and   a   mild   sort   of   demeanor,   and   yet   that   made   her   seem   all the   more   dangerous,   as   if,   with   a   deprecatory   smile,   she   might   suddenly   send   you   to   the   principal’s   office. And   indeed   there   was   a   good   deal   of   principal   in   her;   you   felt,   under   her   wise   considering   eyes,   like   a   young   boy   caught   stealing   cookies. Ronnie   avoided   her   sight   as   much   as   possible.

             Today   one   of   the   other   librarians,   the   one   with   thick   curly   black   hair   and   a   pink   round   face,   met   him   at   the   entrance   and   took   him   aside. “Mr. Wendy,   I’d   like   to   speak   to   you   for   a   moment.”

             Eyeing   her   warily,   Ronnie   complied. They   withdrew   to   the   entry. “There   was   an   incident   here   on   Wedensday.”

             “Hmm—Wednesday—was   I   even   here?”

             “Yes. In   fact,   you   were   involved. You   were   overheard   making   a   very   distasteful   remark   about   the   Carnival   Massacre. Almost   all   of   us   have   family   or   friends   who   died   there. In   light   of   this   we’ve   filed   a   criminal   complaint   to   the   Winsted   Police   Department,   and   you   are   now   banned   from   the   premises.”

             Ronnie’s   eyes   burned   under   his   brows   as   he   met   the   librarian’s   eyes. “You   mentioned   my   name   to   the   police?”   he   said   in   a   flat   voice. A   red   flash   gleamed   in   them   for   a   moment. “Traitor.”

             Then   he   was   gone,   sliding   down   the   bank   and   unlocking   his   bicycle,   wild   thoughts   revolving   in   his   head.

             The   enemies   are   coming   out   into   the   open, <span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">   was   his   first.   I   always   wondered   why   I   felt   wary   about   that   place. And   a   second,   more   bitter   thought   at   the   back   of   it:

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Never   trust   a   witch. ''

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<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             He   did   not   see   the   car   that   had   pulled   into   the   parking   lot   as   he   went   down   the   bank,   or   the   thickset   oldish   woman    who   got   out   with   some   effort. She   had   dull   rust-colored   hair   and   glasses,   and   behind   them   eyes   like   chips   of   cold   rock. She   wore   an   odd   cardigan   and   a   grayish-brown   skirt. In   one   hand   she   used   a   peculiar   cane;   it   was   carved   of   some   dark   wood,   but   so   slick   and   polished   as   to   look   like   a   plastic   imitation   of   wood. The   shapes   it   was   kinked   into   drew   the   eye,   with   mingled   unpleasantness   and   fascination,   faint   but   perceptible. Leaning   on   this   she   passed   through   the   doors   of   the   Beardsley   Memorial   Library.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Nerissa,   who   was   industriously   scanning   books,   looked   up   with   a   round   smile…which   froze   in   place,   and   then   faded.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Um,   hello,   Grandmother.”   she   said.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Good   afternoon,   child.”   the   woman   murmered   in   a   quiet   tired   voice. “And   how   have   you   been?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “I’ve   been   doing   all   right. How   is   the   back?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Oh,   much   better. I   barely   even   need   this   anymore,”   she   held   up   the   cane,   “but   I   like   its’   looks.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “I   really   wish   you   wouldn’t   carry that   around,”   Nerissa   said,   eyeing   the   strange   contortions   of   the   polished   wood   with   an   odd   discomfort.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Laurel   is   a   very   potent   wood,”   the   old   woman   said,   still   quietly,   but   no   longer   sounding   so   tired. “But   you   no   longer   seem   to   look   on   it   the   old   way. It   has   been   a   long   time   since   you   joined   our   little   book   club,   Nerissa. Some   of   us   are   wondering—if   you   are   still   with   us.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “It’s   been   really   busy,”   Nerissa   said,   pretending   to   be   engrossed   in   her   scanning   the   returned   books   so   as   not   to   have to   meet   the   other’s   eyes. “I   barely   have time   to   go   home   and   sleep.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             A   strange   smile   crept   across   the   lined   old   face. The   stone-like   eyes   now   gleamed   like   mica. “And   yet   you   made   time   to   go   out   with   a   Catholic.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Well,   I   didn’t   know   for   sure   until   we   were   already   underway,   and   then   I   just   wanted   to—enjoy   myself.”   said   Nerissa   defensively.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Really,”   said   her   grandmother,   still   smiling. “And   yet   you   haven’t   so   much   as   spoken   to   any   of   us   since.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Nerissa’s   white   hands   came   to   a   pause,   though   she   was   still   looking   at   the   computer   screen. “Why   can’t   you   all   just—leave   me   alone   or   something?”   she   said   at   last. “I   have   my   own   life   to   lead. I’m   not   really   good   with   groups   and   such.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Because   we   are   concerned,   child.”   said   the   old   woman   softly. “We   are   worried   for   your   outlook. We   would   not   want   you   to   lose   touch   with   the   energy. Not   when   you   already   have   so   much   of   a   gift. Tell   me—this   Ronnie,   did   he   try   to   shake   your   faith?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Now   at   last   Nerissa’s   eyes,   big   and   rather   bulging   and   more   froglike   than   ever,   met   her   grandmother’s   eyes.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “What   did   he   tell   you,   child? Did   he   call   you   what   the   others   called   you,   when   they   so   unkindly   drove   you   out? No,   I   see   he   didn’t. Was   he   oh-so-compassionate,   so   caring,   so   love-one-another,   perhaps? No? You   surprise   me   more   and   more. What   spell   did   he   cast   on   you,   Nerissa?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Nerissa   dropped   her   eyes,   raised   them   again,   and   lowered   them. “Catholics   don’t   cast   spells.”   she   said. “They   just—are. The   others   weren’t—he’s   a   very   strange   Catholic—“

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Tell   me,”   and   the   other’s   voice   was   now   flat   as   hidden   stone,   “what   he   said   to   you.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Nerissa   looked   up   once   more. “He   said   my   gift   was   from   the   Holy   Spirit.”

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<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             The   air   grew   cold.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Nerissa   could   no   longer   lower   her   eyes. The   lights   around   them   dimmed   and   flickered. The   face   of   the   older   woman   was   as   unmoving   as   granite,   and   as   cold.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Did   he   now,”   she   breathed,   and   yet   each   sound   was   like   a   concealed   hiss. “Then   I’m   so   glad   you   turned   him   in. That   is   the   only   thing,   Nerissa,   that   gives   me   any   hope. For   I   am   greatly   afraid   that   I   have   to   admit,   child,   that   I   am   very   disappointed   in   you.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Actually,   I   was   the   one   who   filed   the   complaint.”   Mrs. Linda   said. The   papery   smile   was   on   her   face   again. She   had   come   out   of   her   office   beside   the   entrance.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Oh,   well   then   I’m   so   glad,   Linda.”   said   the   grandmother,   returning   the   smile   with   some   effort. “He   is   certainly   a   very   dangerous   person. I   do   hope   you   make   sure   he   keeps   away   from   my   granddaughter.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Oh,   we   will,   we   will. If   he   sets   foot   here   again   he’ll   have   to   explain   himself   to   the   Winsted   police. We   work   very   closely   with   them.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Yes,   yes,   such   nice    people   they   are,   for   sure. That   Cornello,   for   instance,   actually   called   me ‘young   lady’   the   other   day!”   She   tittered. Nerissa   shivered:   there   was   a   horrible   joke   in   that   titter,   she   felt,   that   none   but   her   grandmother   knew,   and   would   not   tell. “Do   give   him   my   best   if   you   see   him,   won’t   you?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Mrs. Linda   promised   she   would,   and   headed   into   the   main   room   to   see   if   the   computers   were   working. At   once   the   old   woman   fixed   Nerissa   with   her   strong   eyes.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “You   will   come   to   our   meeting   on   Oct. 7th,”   she   said   in   a   very   quiet   voice,   “or   we   will   come   for   you. There   is   no   leaving,   Nerissa. You   are   in   far   enough   to   know   that. Will   you   be   there?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Um,   sure. I’ll   mark   it   on   my   calendar.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             The   old   woman   broke   into   a   motherly   smile. “You   will? That’s   so   sweet   of   you,   honey. We   all   miss   you,   you   know. Barbara   was   saying   to   me   just   the   other   day,   ‘Where’s   that   charming   young   niece   of   yours? The   group   just   isn’t   the   same   without   her.’   Senile,   she   is,   but   such   a   dear   for   all   that. Oh,   and   we   have   new   pupils,   did   I   tell   you! Two   young   girls   we’ve   known   for   some   time   have   shown   enough   promise   to   be   admitted. We   plan   to   welcome   them   this   Friday—no,   that’s   the   day   after   tomorrow   now,   isn’t   it? too   short   notice   for   you,   I’m   afraid. But   we’ll   see   you   on   the   7th! Don’t   forget   now!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “I   won’t.”   said   Nerissa,   making   an   attempt   to   return   the   smile. “Bye! Have   a   good   weekend!”

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<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Professor   Light   flicked   the   switch   as   he   came   into   the   lab   which   housed   his   most   puzzling   investment. The   big   machine,   looking   more   than   ever   like   a   bunch   of   old   Xerox   copiers   dumped   in   a   back   storeroom,   sat   forlornly   under   a   coat   of   dust. The   cleaning   staff   wasn’t   allowed   in   yet;   dust   knocked   inside   the   air   vents   might   upset   the   circuits,   let   alone   mop   water,   and   the   sign   hanging   on   the   door   still   read,   “lab   closed,   experiment   in   progress.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Some   experiment,   Hunter   Light   thought   as   he   switched   on   the   machines. Some   of   them   gave   queer   electric   hums   and   clicks,   one   or   two   made   an   odd   rattle,   but   the   little   lights   were   green   where   they   were   supposed   to   be   and   the   red   lights   were   dormant,   and   he   felt   relieved. Late   analysis   of   the   figures   he’d   received   from   that   one   tremendous    surge   suggested   that   some   of   the   energy   remained   dormant   in   the   memory   banks. His   computer   schematics   were   at   last   beginning   to   reduce   the   unimaginable   feedback   of   that   one   night   last   winter,   into   some   sort   of   order;   just   in   time,   as   the   Yale   bigwigs   had   been   inquiring   on   his   progress   recently. If   he   could   prepare   a   preliminary-finding   report,   that   would   keep   them   happy   for   a   while. He   wouldn’t   send   them   the   raw   numbers,   though. A   discovery   like   this,   he   wanted   it   to   be   his   own,   not   another’s. He’d   had   the   idea.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             His   fingers   flew   over   the   keyboard   as   the   computer   finished   warming   up,   pulling   up   menus   and   arranging   windows   on   the   demo   screen   upon   the   wall. Graphs   in   red   weblike   lines   formed,   making   queer   twisting   shapes;   grids   with   wavering   arrows,   streams   of   symbols   and   the   cryptic   abbreviational   shorthand   with   which   mathematicians   disguise   their   formulas   from   common   eyes,    all   flickered   up   into   view.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             So   engrossed   was   he   in   his   subject   that   when   he   looked   over   at the   demonstration   screen   and   found   his   sight   blocked   by   a   female   body,   he   barely   even   noticed   but   simply   craned   around   the   obstruction.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “I’ve   heard   of   absent-minded   professors   before,   but   really,   this   is   ridiculous.”   the   female   obstruction   said   in   a   rich,   beautiful   but   somehow   husky   voice. It   was   the   voice   more   than   anything   else   which   made   him   at   last   aware   of   another   presence,   and   he   leaned   back   with   a   start. In   the   hard   white   light   of   the   lab,   the   woman   before   him   was   revealed   to   be   tall,   strikingly,   breathtakingly   beautiful.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Um…I’m   afraid   the   lab’s   closed,   miss…we’re   in   the   middle   of   a   scientific   experiment   here…”   he   faltered.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “So   I’ve   heard,”   she   said,   gliding   about   among   the   machines,   running   her   hands   lightly   over   their   panels. As   she   did,   every   light   on   it   flared   up,   going   out when   she   passed   on. “Most   interesting,   to   be   sure. That   a   human   could   reach   by   mere   material   instruments   into   the   very   foundation   of   the   heavens   was   deemed   impossible   since   the   dying   of   the   old   laws. And   not   even   the   telescopes   of   the   Centuar   Tower   can   achieve   what   your   ingenious   cobbling   of   boxes   has.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Miss…um,   who   are? Are   you   from,   um,   a   scientific   institution   of   some   sort?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “You   tapped   into   the   forces   that   hold   the   constellations   in   their   planes,   that   keep   the   stars   from   flying   apart;   the   concealed   power,   the   breath   of   divine   horns. I   felt   that   power. I   have   come   for   it.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “I—I—I—what   are   you   talking   about?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             The   machines   all   roared   to   life,   lights   blinking   and   flickering   faster   than   his   eye   could   follow. The   computer   screens   had   gone   mad. Images   flashed   across   them   in   a   bizarre   static,   until   they   ran   together   like   a   fluttering   river. Light   rayed   about   her,   hiding   her   long   shining   hair,   playing   about   the   machines.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “''Who   are   you? Who   are   you?''”   Hunter   Light   screamed. This   wasn’t   happening. This   wasn’t   possible. This   wasn’t   scientifically   compatible. The   woman   turned   toward   him,   and   at   the   radiating   and   yet   eerie   beauty   of   her   glowing   face,   Hunter   thought   for   one   dizzying   second   he   had   died   and   gone   beyond.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “I   am   Sophia.”   she   said.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             The   machines   flashed   steadily   now. The   images   on   the   screens   processed   in   stately   sequence,   but   they   were   images   no   computer   should   be   generating   with   this   software. Light   beamed   from   every   vent.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Who   are   you?”   he   wailed.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “I   am   Sophia.”   she   repeated. “Come,   little   tinkerer. You   wanted   to   understand   how   the   heavens   hold   together? You   wanted   to   know   the   commands   that   bind   the   Stars? Draw   near,   then,   and   watch,   for   I   am   Sophia,   and   I   am   the   last   living   one   of   all   my   people.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Light-headedly,   Hunter   rose   to   his   feet. He   swayed   as   if   in   a   sugar   attack. Laughing,   the   unearthly   creature   held   out   her   hand,   and   suddenly   he   was   all   the   way   across   the   room,   standing   beside   her. Her   hand   felt   in   his,   not   like   flesh   or   even   solid,   but   like   cool   fiery   cloth,   a   wet   cloth   maybe,   or   one   tingling   with   electricity. Then   she   lowered   her   other   hand   until   it   touched   the   machines.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             He   barely   understood   the   phenomena   that   happened   next. The   arcs   of   light   springing   from   the   machines   he   knew;   the   sparks   of   some   jagged   electric-like light   of   a   queer   cold   yellow   that   left   no   electric   tingle   he   guessed   to   be   energy;   but   why   a   minor   vortex   should   be   forming   above   the   telescope’s   intake   he   had   no   idea,   nor   why   it   was   glowing   a   vivid   blue   and   purple.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Then   he   saw   the   entering   beam,   and   left   the   limits   of   his   knowledge.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Forces   he   had   no   comprehension   of   the   existence   thereof,   shot   down   to   meet   the   telescope   and   enter   the   boxes. Their   plastic   walls   were   now   transparent,   and   he   saw   the   most   delicate   rainbow   hues   flowing   and   seething   among   the   circuits;   every   color   he   had   ever   known,   and   some   colors   he   suspected   were   actually   unknown,   and   the   loveliness   of   them   made   his   eyes   bulge   and   his   breath   stop,   unable   to   move   or   blink. It   was   like   a   thousand   million   star   spectrums   all   shifting   and   flowing. Sparking   fountains   in   the   most   fantastic   hues   burst   from   the   air   vents. He   heard   the   weird   humming   musical   crackle   of   the   tremendous   energies…nay,   something   not   quite   energy,   something   ethereal,   something   his   soul   felt   as   well   as   his   body,   coming   down   with   the   energy   because   it   was   attached   to   it,   or   because   the   energy   was   bound   to   it. Stars   burst   in   his   mind,   unimaginable   speeds,   distances   beyond   mortal   measures,   cold,   incredible   heat,   wheeling   cosmos   upon   wheeling   cosmos   of   stars,   and   yet   they   all   were   linked,   they   all   were   joined,   held   together   at   the   foundation,   tied   by   their   essences. Now   he   understood   why   the   scientists   of   the   thirteenth   century   talked   like   philosophers   of   essences   and   substances,   of   quiddity   and   genus   and   quality,   limpid   light   and   humors   that   flowed. They   were   trying   to   grasp   the   base   of   nature. He   and   all   scientists   had   only   tried   to   grasp   its’   materials. Hyperspace,   he   thought,   dizzy   and   yet   afire   with   thirst. I   am   seeing   hyperspace.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Fascinating,   isn’t   it,   darling?”   said   the   radiant   being   at   his   side. “To   see   the   commands   by   which   the   Gods   laid   down   the   stars…to   see   the   power   of   the   heavens   that   once   were,   diffused   now   into   the   heavens   as they   are. Your   device   is   indeed   a   useful   one. But   I   must   not   overload   it;   and   if   I   draw   any   more   power,   I   very   well   may.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             She   lifted   her   hand   from   the   machines.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             The   vortex   imploded   and   was   gone. The   beam   snapped   out. For   a   short   while   rainbow   rivers   still   played   about   the   circuits,   and   rainbow   fountains   still   sparked   from   every   vent,   but   gradually   the   transparency   faded,   the   colors   dimmed,   and   the   panel   lights   began   to   wink   off. Hunter   Light   looked   at   the   being   that   stood   next   to   him. Luminous   white,   with   a   myriad   hints   of   other   hues   dancing   in   every   angle,   the   shape   was   no   longer   humanoid,   but   a   form   of   what   seemed   pure   light,   in   a   shape   beyond   description;   yet   still   somehow   not   only   evidently   feminine   but   incomparably   lovely.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “What   are   you.”   he   breathed.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             The   luminous   being   laughed,   an   eerie,   unbreathed   sound,   like   liquid   light   splashing. Then   it   drew   itself   together,   and   the   shape   was   that   of   a   woman,   the   woman   who   had   named   herself   Sophia.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “I   am   what   we   all   once   were,   before   the   Herald   blew   his   horn. I   am   of   the   ones   who   praised   Him   in   chorous   while   the   sons   of   God   shouted   for   joy. What   you   see   in   the   heavens   is   the   aftermath   of   ruin,   when   the   Lord   of   the   Cosmos   made   my   people   into   gas,   and   spread   us   out   across   the   vastnesses   until   the   Herald   sounds   his   horn. I   am   a   Star.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Stars   are   gas.”   he   heard   himself   say.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Are,   not   were,”   she   smiled,   and   the   mocking   beauty   of   that   smile   took   away   any   further   speech. Then   Sophia’s   eyes suddenly   narrowed,   and   she   moved   like   a   blink   toward   a   corner   of   the   room.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Who   is   it? Who   comes?”   she   said,   and   her   voice   was   suddenly   keen,   cruel   as   knives,   cold   as   stone.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “You   are   not   the   last,   fair   sister.”   said   a   faint   but   sweet   voice. Sophia   reeled   back. Through   the   wall   walked   a   ghost,   a   woman   formed   of   transparent   green   mist,   faintly   shining.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “I   don’t….Maricrondo?? I   don’t   believe   it!”   Sophia   gasped. “I   thought   you   were   bound   within   the   Stone   of   Death!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “My   body   was,”   the   ghost   answered. “My   power   was. But   not   my   ghost. The   King   of   the   Dead   held   me   captive   all   these   ages,   until   the   Hill   of   the   Road   and   the   Forest   freed   me   in   a   riddle-game. And   so   I   never   saw   the   War   in   Heaven,   nor   took   I   any   part   in   the   Rebellion   of   the   Stars.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “The   Hill   of   the   Road.”   repeated   Sophia. “The   Forest. Has   the   Warden   begun   his   calling   so   soon,   then?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “This   calling   is   like   no   others.”   said   the   Green   Lady. “The   Warden   himself   is   afraid. He   accepts   aid   from   the   Weird   Sisters. The   Five   Fortresses   have   reached   this   here   at   last. He   has   left   Nine   Signs,   one   on   each   hill. And   this   year   the   Children   number   six.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “There   have   only   been   three. Always   three. The   Hill,   the   Star,   the   Forest. Lane   and   Midwinter   and   one   variable. Why   now   six?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “I   have   spoken   with   the   Hill,   and   he   is   not   a   Lane. I   have   spoken   with   the   Forest,   and   he   is   not   a   Midwinter. This   year   the   Lane   is   a   Traveller,   and   the   Star   is   Cold,   and   the   Forest   can   not   only   see   but   also   call,   and   there   is   a   Brook,   and   a   Bell   for   the   Churches,   and   the   Hill   can   not   only   reveal   but   command. And   in   the   wings   wait   the   Three   Elders,   and   out   of   the   secret   roads   they   have   loosed   Wayham   himself,   and   there   are   dragons   abroad. And   the   Wild   Man   of   Winsted   walks the   streets.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “This   is   fell   news.”   murmered   Sophia. “The   Road   is   growing   nearer   than   it   has   been   in   all   it’s   Returnings. It   is   bestowing   strange   powers. Does   he,   then,   fear   that   the   great   time   is   ahead?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “It   would   be   a   likely   thing,   Sophia. I   give   thanks   for   this   professor   and   his   mysterious   engine,   for   by   it   I   may   return   into   the   living.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “It   has   indeed   proved   useful,”   mused   Sophia,   “for   I   have   now   within   me   the   power   of   eighteen   Stars. There   will   be   no   need   to   use   the   machines,   my   sister. Your   true   body   lies   bound   into   the   black   gem,   and   with   it   your   power…but   I   will   put   power   into   you,   and   I   will   split   my   own   shape   that   you   may   have   something   to   wear   as   a   body   of   sorts. Enough   to   enjoy,   at   least. Then   you   will   have   the   power   of   one   Star,   while   I   will   be   as   strong   as   seventeen   Stars. Nor   will   you   thus   hold   the   curse   within   you   that   prevented   us   from   fighting;   for   I   am   immune.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “This   seems   good   to   me,   my   sister.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Professor   Light   felt   an   almost   solid   force   throw   him   down,   so   that   he   fell   hard   on   his   seat   and   remained   there,   staring. Machines   creaked. A   light   bulb   splintered. Power   was   raying   from   Sophia   into   the   green   ghost,   and   Sophia   was   growing   larger,   broader—no,   she   was   two   now,   one   glowing   form   merging   with   the   green   ghost,   the   other   standing   alone. A   blinding   glow   built   up   around   Sophia’s head. Suddenly   a   thick   rope   of   power,   like   a   log   of   solid   light,   appeared   between   the   two   forms. The   greenish   figure’s   head   snapped   back. With   a   burst   of   light   the   power   flowed   in   down   her   mouth. The   two   figures   dimmed,   slowly,   one   condensing   into   the   shape   of   the   Green   Lady,   wearing   the   same   clothes   the   ghost   had   worn—a   green   frilled   dress and   a   green   bonnet—the   other   taking   on   the   unmistakable   form   of   Sophia.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “How   is   it,   Maricrondo?”   smiled   Sophia.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             The   Green   Lady   lifted   her   hands   and   looked   at   them. “So   heavy,”   she   marvelled. “The   power   I   had   so   long   missed…oh,   not   mine,   it   feels   like   another   woman’s   underclothing…but   it   is   power,   and   body,   and   it   is   far   better   than   my   former   nakedness. Sophia,”   bowing   to   the   ground,   “my   eternal   gratitude.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Hunter   Light,   blinking   on   the   ground,   suddenly   said,   “You   both   are…Stars?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Oh,   it’s   finally   getting   through,   is   it,   honey?”   teased   Sophia,   turning   to   him. “Let   me   see…my   inquiries   put   you   as   the   famous   Hunter   Light,   correct?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “I   am.”   he   said,   getting   to   his   feet. “Father   of   Bell,   whom   I   think   you   were   just   talking   about.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Hunter   of   Light.”   mused   Sophia. “A   name   like   that,   in   a   place   like   this,   never   is   coincidence. He   cannot   have   spoken   with   Arheled,   from   the   ignorance   in   his   tone,   but   nevertheless…he   did   invent   this   machine.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Hunter   Light   may   have   been   a   thick-skulled   grown-up   when   it   came   to   unusual   events,   but   he   was   a   scientist,   and   a   scientist   who   knows   his   job   is   one   who   tries   to   understand   the   unknown   (not   squeeze   the   unknown   into   his   own   square   holes). And   once   the   incomprehensibility   of   the   events   had   passed,   he   found   these   mystical,   half-angelic   beings   fitting   eerily   in   place   with   little   scraps   of   what   he’d   been   hearing   from   his   children—the   name   Arheled,   for   one—nor   had   he   forgotten   that   day   when   the   Lake   stood   on   its’   head.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Your   bodies,   are   they   composed   of   matter   at   all,   or   are   you   actually   just   wrapping   mater   around   you?”   he   said.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Both   Stars   gazed   fixedly   at   him. Neither,   therefore,   noticed   the   quiet   glow   on   the   floor   at   the   far   end. “A   surprisingly   intelligent   question,”   said   Sophia. “I   do   not   believe   I   ever   tried   to   define   the   physical   nature   of   my   own   essence,   but   I   believe   Arcturus   said   once,   ‘A   Star   is   born   of   Daslenga   and   woven   of   light   and   power.’   Our   bodies   are   changeable. Not   as   yours…at   what   are   you   staring?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Something   is   behind   us.”   said   the   Green   Lady.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Both   Stars   whirled. At   the   far   end   of   the   room   the   floor   was   melting,   rising   slowly   upward,   until   it   burst   and   fell   away,   and   left   there   standing   the   form   of a   man   that   Hunter   knew   very   well.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “You?”   he   said,   his   voice   shaking   with   rage. “What   are   you   doing   here?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “You   know   this   man?”   said   Sophia   doubtfully.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Yes,”   growled   Hunter   Light,   stepping   around   the   boxes   of   machinery,   “I   know   him. He’s   the   man   who   wrecked   my   home,   who   had   my   kids   up   on   false   charges,   the   town   bigwig,   police   in   his   pocket. He   is   Cornello.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Stop!”   Sophia’s   voice   snapped   like   thunder. Hunter   jerked   to   a   halt. “He   is   not   what   you   think   he   is. He   is   far   worse. I   know   him. You   cannot   hope   to   face   him. We   know   him.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Yes,”   the   bald   man   said placidly,   “I   am    Car’nhellnar.   I   greet   you,   Sophia. And   you,   Maricrondo. Congratulations   on   your   survival.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Beware.”   Sophia   murmered. “You   know   what   we   are   dealing   with. Beware,   sister.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “I   agree   with   your   wisdom,   Sophia.”   he   said.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             He   moved   faster   than   they   did. Hunter   Light   had   no   idea   what   happened,   but   he   saw   the   result:   Cornello   stood   untouched,   the   two   Stars   lay   on   the   floor,   fighting   a   gelatin-like   capsule   spell   that   thickened   steadily.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Even   so   trapped   I   Polaris   in   the   Rebellion.”   he   said.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             The   spell   flew   apart. Sophia   teleported   in   front   of   him. The   College   began   to   shake   to   its’ foundations   as   she   slowly   lifted   her   hands. “You   are   not   facing   Polaris   now,”   she   said   in   a   voice   like   a   hundred   voices   blended,   “you   are   facing   Sophia!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Their   hands,   held   forward   at   waist   level,   froze. Though   they   were   not   touching,   Hunter   felt   power    between   them. It   made   his   lungs   twisty. It   made   his   teeth   ache. Around   them   tiny   cracks   were   forming   in   the   plaster. The   floor,   and   indeed   the   very   walls,   creaked   as   if   strained   to   bursting   point. It   reminded   him   of   two   very   powerful   magnets   being   forced   to   touch   like   poles. He   guessed   what   would   happen.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             It   did   not   happen   as   he   expected,   with   an   explosive   recoil   that   sent   one   or   both   flying. Light   began   suddenly   to   break   out   in   arcs   and   loops   from   Sophia’s   quivering   hands. Her   hands   were   fraying. Suddenly   she   blorped,   her   shape   burst   into   an   amorphous   mass   of   animate   light,   that   light   still   pressing   against   a   something   that   was   coming   out   from   Cornello. And   he   too   was   changing. Not   one   head   but   seven   were   slowly   rising   from   his   neck,   and   on   those   heads   were   diadems….long,   hideous,   reptilian   heads….

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Dragon   heads. Cornello   was   a   dragon.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Fire—yet   not   heated   fire,   he   realized   at   once,   or   the   room   would   have   melted,   but   some   dreadful   cool   energy—poured   from   all   seven   mouths. Sophia’s   light   flared   in   a   shifting   nightmare   of   shapes. For   a   while   she   managed   to   stem   the   tide,   but   slowly   the   power   of   the   Father   of   Dragons   bore   her   down.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “It   took   thirty   of   your   kind’s   most   talented   men   to   overcome   one   of   my   lesser   brethren,   and   he   wearied   at   the   time.”   the   seven   heads   roared. “Seventeen   Stars’   strength   is   nowhere   near   enough,   Sophia,   to   overcome   one   of   the   Black   Seraphim!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             There   was   a   crash   as   the   Green   Lady   shattered   the   broken   gelatin   spell   still   binding   her. She   was   all   on   fire   with   green   light. “Sophia!”   she   screamed.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Hunter’s   eyes   were   blinded. As   they   cleared,   he   saw   a   flaming   beam   of   pure   green   light   thundering   into   the   Father   of   Dragons. The   Green   Lady   was   giving   him   everything   she   had. Sophia   pulled   free   of   the   streaming   fire   and   collapsed   into   her   normal   shape,   dim,   unshining,   fallen   to   the   floor.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Cornello,   shaking   himself   free,   laughed. “So   you   desire   to   pay   your   debt.”   he   mocked. Seizing   the   blast   of   power   he   began   reeling   it   in,   hand   over   hand,   pulling   the   Green   Lady   toward   him. “Well,   they   lie   who   say   that   we   for   our   part   do   not   honor   valor. I   need   only   one   Star. You   are   not   the   prize   Sophia   was…but   you   will   the   seventh   throne   most   nicely. Thank   you,   Sophia. You   have   been   very   kind. You   have   given   me   exactly   what   I   needed.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Then   he   had   vanished. And   the   laboratory   fell   dark   and   silent. The   only   sound   was   the   last   one   that   any   who   had   known   her   through   her   endless   ages   would   have   expected:   the   sobbing   of   Sophia,   the   last   of   the   Stars.

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<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Travel   was   a   little   surprised   when   Ronnie   drove   up   her   driveway   and   knocked   on   her   door,   but   she   answered   the   door   anyway. “Hey,   Ron! What’s   up?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “I   didn’t   want   to   call,”   he   said,   “because   I’m   beginning   to   suspect   our   Mutual   Friend   with   numerous   heads   has   been   tapping   our   phones. Need   to   bring   you   up   to   date. I   just   got   kicked   out   of   the   library.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “You   cracked   one   too   many   jokes?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Yeah,   dragons   are   a   sore   subject   in   town. But   this   is   the   nasty   thing:   I’m   almost   certain   I   saw   the   Witch   of   Winchester   pulling   in   as   I   left.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “That’s   creepy. You   think   she’s   in   league   with   the   librarians?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Considering   Nerissa   is   into   Wicca,   I   wouldn’t   be   surprised. Anyway,   I   wanted   to   ask   you:   you   been   practicing   your   power?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             She   giggled. “Um,   I   did   teleport   up   to   the   house   on   the   way   home   from   school   cause   Ben   was   making   a   pass—“

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Ronnie   sighed. “Practiced   on   objects? Trees? Rooted   things? Loose   things?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Nooo.”   Travel   said   mournfully.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             He   shut   his   eyes   wearily. “We’re   going   for   a   spin. I   want   you   to   teleport   that   car—while   it’s   driving.   And   set   it   down   again   without   crash   landing. And   teleport   small   objects   randomly. We   need   to   be   ready,   Travel. We’re   preparing   for   war.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “You’re   as   bad   as   a   gym   trainer.”   she   complained. “Or   Wayham. He’s   been   pestering   me   every   time   I   see   him   to   practice. I   yelled   out   the   window   I’d   practice   dropping   him   in   the   pond   if   he   didn’t   stop.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “You’re   practicing.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “You   are   a   natural   bully.”   she   wailed. “Fine. All   right. We’ll   practise.”

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<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Hunter   Light   walked   around   the   discolored   and   sooty-looking   equipment   until   he   reached   the   broken   floor   where   the   battle   had   been   fought. He   stared   down   at   the   sniffling   woman   who   sprawled   there,   with   folded   arms   and   a   stern   light   in   his   eyes. At   that   moment   every   one   of   his   pupils,   had   they   been   there,   would   have   been   quietly   trying   to   avoid   drawing   his   attention. They   knew what   that   meant   in   him.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Sophia.”   he   stated. He   gave   her   a   sharp   nudge   with one   foot. “You   and   I   have   some   talking   to   do. And   some   things   you   had   better   answer.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             She   lifted   tear-wracked   cheeks,   pushing   back   dark   hair   from   them,   and   in   that   moment   she   looked   like   the   loveliest   thing   on   God’s   good   earth. He   ignored   it. His   entire   being   was   taunt   with   anger.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “I   want   to   know   exactly   what   is   going   on,   and   what   my   family   is   being   caught   up   in. Who   is   Arheled? What   are   you   Stars? Why   do   you   say   the   Five   Churches? What   has   Bell   got   to   do   with   them? And   what   is   the   Road?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Tears   dried   up,   replaced   with   a   sizzling gleam. “I   could   fry   you   where   you   stand.”   she   hissed.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “No,”   said   Hunter   brutally,   “you   can’t. I’m   willing   to   bet   you   went   all-out   in   that   little   firefight,   and   now   you’re   so   exhausted   from   fighting   that   Book-of-Revelation   dragon   you   can’t   even   swat   a   fly,   much   less   do   me   any   harm.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “My   body   is   light.”   she   snapped.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             He   smiled   in   contempt. “You   felt   as   solid   as   I   am. And   that   means   you’re   vulnerable…as   any   strong   man   would   be   if   he   was   taken   ill.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Bending   down   he   grabbed   her   by   the   throat. With   a   vicious   yank   he   pulled   her   off   the   floor. Part   of   him   was   revolted   at   this   violence   to   a   beautiful   woman,   but   the   rest   of   him   was   mad   as   hell. “I   want   some   answers,   Sophia. So   talk…now.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “You   don’t   have   the   nerve.”   she   laughed   scornfully.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             He   hadn’t,   but   having   his   bluff   called   made   him   really   mad. He   squeezed. Hard. As   Sophia’s   face   reddened   and   her   breath   choked,   he   saw   the   sudden   sickening   realization   flash   through   her   eyes:   she   really   couldn’t   fight   him. He   let   go,   and   she   sagged   limply   to   the   floor.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “All   right.”   she   gasped,   when   she’d   rubbed   her   throat   some. “You   want   answers,   college   boy,   you’ll   get   them. And   they’ll   be   more   than   you   can   handle.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Then   I’ll   ask   for   explanations.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             She   sighed. “So   much   to   say…does   the   name   Arheled   have   any   meaning   to   you? Have   you   heard   it   before?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “From   my   two   children,   yes.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Oh,   you   have   two?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Both   Bell   and   Forest   are   my   own.”   said   Hunter   stiffly.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Sophia’s   eyes   actually   widened. “You   are   one   of   the   Three   Elders.”   she   stated.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “I   am   not. Who   are   these   Elders?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Oh,   you   are,   or   will   be.”   she   smiled   wearily. “Old   Arheled   doesn’t   leave   that   big   of   a   chance   go   dangling. Father   of   two   Children   of   the   Road,   and   with   a   name   like   Hunter   Light—you’re   an   Elder,   all   right. Only   an   Elder   would   dare   attack   me   like   you   have—most   men   in   this   town   would   be   running   for   the   cops,   tails   tripping   their   arses. The   other   Elders   will   likely   be   Lane   and   Midwinter—he’d   never   let   those   houses   pass.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “But   what   the   heck   is   all   this?!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Oh,   where   to   start,   where   to   start. Well,   how   about   starting   with   your   two   children,   since   you   know   them   best?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “I   haven’t   seen   Forest   in   four   years.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Divorce?”   She   laughed   at   his   surprised   look,   but   it   was   a   painful   laugh. “I   know   more   about   your   world   than   you   could   guess,   boy. I   am   not   young. I’ve   been   around   since   before   the   Elves   awoke,   when   the   New   Stars   were   called   into   being.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Ah   yes,   your   charming   offspring. Well,   they’ve   been—singled out,   I   suppose. Called. Only   those   who   can   see   truly—who   notice   things,   appreciate   things,   have   a   certain   thoughtful   way   of   regarding   life   outside   themselves—can   hear   him   calling. He   awakes   them. Dreams,   whispers   on   the   wind. Riddling   remarks   from   odd   men   met   at   public   places.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “That   rhyme   of   the   churches!”   exclaimed   Hunter. “Of   course! That   strange   man   in   brown. But   who   is   he?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “The   Warden   in   White.”   said   Sophia. The   half-mocking   tone   had   vanished   from   her   voice. “The   Superior   Silver. He   of   the   High-noble   Crystal. The   King   of   the   Road. Arheled   is   what   we   name   him,   but   who   is   he? Venda,   that   is   all   we   know,   but   not   Mid. Of   the   Great   he   is,   and   high   in   power,   second,   perhaps,   to   none   save   the   Gods.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “I’m   a   Christian.”   he   said. “I   don’t   believe   in   gods.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Names,”   she   said   dismissively. “You   know   them   as   Messengers,   but   that’s   only   one   thing   they   do,   and   done   by   a   small   percentage   at   that. Not   everyone   in   the   Post   Office   delivers   mail,   you   know. Some   have   bigger   jobs. Lords   of   the   West,   Powers,   Gods—it   doesn’t   matter   what   they’re   called,   as   long   as   they’re   not   worshipped.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             He nodded,   to   show   her    she   could   go   back   on   target.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Yes. Well,   I’m   not   of   them.   Not   a   spirit. I   doubt   even   our   fair   Lord   ever   made   more   than   one   of   him;   He   does   that,   sometimes. He   was   in   charge   of   holding   the   Road together   while   we   drove   away   the   Dark   One,   and   it   was   he   who   told   us   he   would   walk   the   Road   and   steer   it.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “What   is   the   Road?”   He   still   couldn’t   make   sense   of   Arheled,   but   he   suspected   she   couldn’t,   either.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Power.”   she   answered   simply. “A   command,   we   call   it. You   would   think   of   it   as   a   spiritual   force,   aware,   able   to   act   on   its’   own,   like   a   Ring   of   Power. That’s   why   it   must   be   steered. It   binds   together   the   surface   of   Arda;   but   Arda   is   round   now,   and   flies   wildly   through   space;   so   every   hundred   years   the   Road   returns   to   Earth.”   She   held   his   eyes   with   hers,   suddenly   stern. “This   is   the   hundredth   year.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “And   there   have   to   be   ceremonies?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “No. All   that   is   needed   is   that   it   be   anchored;   not   only   to   the   substance,   but   to   the   denizens,   of   Arda. For   this   purpose   Men   have   been   called   to   walk   the   Road,   ever   since   the   World   was   Bent.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “If   you’re   a   Star,   why   are   you   the   last   one   left?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Oh,   that. The   Great   Disaster. Around   Noe’s   time,   that   was. I   hear   you’re   a   Bible-thumper;   my   Genesis   is   a   little   rusty,   but   I   seem   to   recall   that   the   heavens   were   convulsed   as   well   as   the   earth.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “The   best   Bibical   scholars   hold   that   tectonic   action   didn’t   begin   until   the   Flood,   if   that’s   what   you   mean.”   Hunter   said   stiffly.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Ah,   how   right   they   are,   and   how   wrong   they   surmise. Why   do   you   think   the   crust   shattered,   and   what   could   have   broken   it? Every   time   the   Road   returns,   Arheled   calls   three   to   greet   it,   to   walk   upon   it   when   it   is   there,   to   show them.”   A tremendous   sorrow   suddenly   yawned   in   her   eyes,   normally   hidden   by   shuttered   doors,   a   sorrow   so   at   odds   with   her   eerie   mocking   personality   it   was   profoundly   shocking. “To   show   them   of   what   was   there   before.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Your   people?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             The   shutters   closed. That   worldly   mockery   was   back   in   her   eyes;   but   there   was,   as   well,   a   sense   of   unguessed   ages   of   existence,   a   weight of   time   behind   her. “You’ve   seen   some   of   what   we   can   do. Magic,   you   might   call   it,   but   science   too. But   we   destroyed   ourselves.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Nuclear   war   in   heaven?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Sophia   gave   him   the   wise,   patronizing,   humerous   look   a   mother   gives   when   her   little   boy   is   trying   to   act   grown-up. “War,   yes. A   war   our   only   law   forbade. I   was   the   only   one   there   who   kept   that   law—I   fled   here. To   Earth. And   the   curse   took   the   others. And   then   the   Herald   blew   his   horn,   and   we   were   all   dead. We   have   vast   power,   Hunter. When   a   bomb   goes   off,   and   you   somehow   deflect   the   energy,   where   does   it   go?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Somewhere   it   can   expand.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Well,   our   energy   did. And   condensed. The   Herald   sent   us   speeding   outward,   away   from   Earth. We   made   stars   as   we   died. Our   power   changed   to   gas. Galaxies   of   gas. One   or   two   stars   of   each   of   our   wreckage   stayed   visible   in   its’   old   place,   to   hold   the   constellations.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             She   held   out   one   white   arm,   indicating   his   star   chart. “All   those   galaxies,   and   stars? We   were   seventy   thousand   when   we   died. And   of   them   all,   from   70,000   Stars,   came   the   uncounted   zillions   of   gas-balls. Maybe   you   can   begin   to   understand,   now,   just   what   happened   in   this   room. I   had   as   much   power   as   17   of   my   people. That’s   a   good   few   thousand   galaxies   of   wattage   up   my   belt. And   that   dragon   just   beat   me   to   a   pulp.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “He’s   the   Devil,   isn’t   he?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “One   of   them.”   She   shuddered. “Not,   of   course,   the   Dark   One   himself,   but   still—high   up. Or   Low   Down,   if   you   prefer   Lewis’s   expression.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “But   you   still   haven’t   answered—“

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Sophia   climbed   slowly   to   her   feet. A   smile   briefly   passed   across   her   face:   hard,   uncanny,   and   frightening   beyond   belief. It   was   not   a   human   smile. “You’ll   have   to   get   your   answers   elsewhere,   boy. It’s   a   saying,   ‘Nothing   can   quench   the   thirst   of   a   piercer.’   Or   a   scientist,   if   you   prefer.”   The   smile   died. “I   haven’t   seen   one   of   our   people   in   nine   thousand   years….and   the   only   other   Star   alive   is   taken   down   to   Hell.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             White   flickered   in   her   eyes. “I   may   have   to   walk   out   of   here,   but   I’m   rested   enough   now to   keep   you   from   harming   me. Stand   aside. Let   me   go,   that   for   the   first   time   in   ninety   centuries   Sophia   herself   may   weep.”

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