温馨提醒：系统正在全面升级。您可以访问最新站点。谢谢！

  　"Yes, butter." Verna scanned the report. "Seems it went rancid and we had to buy ten peck to replace it. I'm to consider this and determine if the dairyman has asked a fair price and is to be retained in the future."

  　"It must be important to have these matters checked."

  　Verna picked up the next paper. “Masons. Masons to fix the roof over the dining hall that leaks. And slate. A lightning bolt broke the slate, they say, and near to a square had to be torn off and replaced. Took ten men two weeks, it says here. I'm to decide if that was timely, and approve payment."

  　"Well, if people do work, they've a right to be paid, haven't they?"

  　She rubbed a finger on the gold, sunburst-patterned ring. "I thought that if I ever had the power, there would be changes in the way the Sisters do the Creator's

  　work. But this is all I do, Warren: look at reports. I've been in here day and night reading the most mundane of things until my eyes glaze over."

  　"It must be important, Verna."

  　"Important?" She selected another report with exaggerated reverence. "Let's see ... seems two of our 'young men' got drunk and set fire to an inn ... the fire was put out ... the inn sustained quiet a bit of damage ... they would like die palace to reimburse them." She set the report aside. "I'm going to have a long, loud talk with those two."

  　"Seems the right decision, Verna."

  　She selected another report. "And what have we here? A seamstress accounting. Dres【创建和谐家园】aking for the novices." Verna picked up another. "Salt. Three kinds."

  　"But Verna—"

  　She plucked another.”And this one?'' She waved the paper with mock solemnity. "Grave digging."

  　"What?"

  　"Two gravediggers. They want to be paid for their work." She scanned the tally. "And I might add that they think highly of their skill, by the price they're asking."

  　"Look, Verna, I think you've been cooped up it here too long and need a little fresh air. Why don't we go for a walk."

  　"A walk? Warren, I don't have time—"

  　"Prelate, you've been sitting in here too long. You need a little activity." He canted his head while rolling his eyes in an exaggerated gesture toward the door. "How about it?"

  　Vema glanced toward the door. If Sister Dulcinia did as she was told, then only Sister Phoebe would be in the outer office. Phoebe was her friend. She reminded herself that she could trust no one.

  　"Well .. . yes, I guess I would like a bit of a walk."

  　Warren marched around the desk and lifted her by the arm. "Oh, good, then. Shall we go?"

  　Verna pulled her arm away from his grip and shot him a murderous glare. She gritted her teeth as she spoke in a singsong voice. "Why yes, why don't we."

  　At the sound of the door, Sister Phoebe hastily stood to bow. "Prelate ... do you need something? Perhaps a bit of soup? Some tea?"

  　"Phoebe, I've told you a dozen times now that you don't need to bow every time you lay eyes on me."

  　Phoebe bowed again. "Yes, Prelate." Her round face flushed red. "I mean ... I'm sorry, Prelate. Forgive me."

  　Verna gathered her patience with a sigh. "Sister Phoebe, we've known each other since we were novices. How many times were we sent to the kitchens together to scrub pots for . . .?" Verna glanced to Warren. "Well, I can't remember for what, but the point is that we're old friends. Please try to remember that?"

  　Phoebe's cheeks plumped with a 【创建和谐家园】ile. "Of course .,. Verna." She winced at calling the Prelate "Verna" even if it was under order,

  　Out in the hall Warren asked why they were sent to scrub pots.

  　"I said I don't remember," she snapped as she glanced back down the empty hall, "What's this about?"

  　Warren shrugged. "Just a walk." He checked the hall himself, and then flashed

  　her another meaningful look. "I thought that maybe the Prelate would like to visit Sister Simona."

  　Verna missed a step. Sister Simona had been in a deranged state for weeks— something about dreams—and had been kept in a shielded room so she couldn't hurt herself, or some innocent.

  　Warren leaned close and whispered. "I went to visit her earlier."

  　"Why?"

  　Warren jabbed his finger up and down, pointing at the floor. The vaults. He meant the vaults. She frowned at him.

  　"And how was poor Simona?"

  　Warren checked the corridor to the right and left when they reached an intersection, then looked behind again. "They wouldn't let me see her," he whispered.

  　Outside, the rain roared in a downpour. Verna pulled her shawl over her head and dove into the deluge, dancing over puddles, trying to tiptoe across the step-pingstones set in the soggy grass. Yellow light from windows flickered in the pools of standing water. The guards at the gates to the Prelate's compound bowed as she and Warren trotted by, making for a covered walkway.

  　Inside, under the low roof, she shook the water from her shawl and draped it across her shoulders as the two of them caught their breath. Warren shook rain from his robes. The walkway's arched sides were protected only by open lattice thick with vines, but the rain wasn't driven by wind, so it was dry enough. She peered into the darkness, but couldn't see anyone. It was quite a ways to the next building: the squat infirmary.

  　Verna slumped down on a stone bench. Warren had been ready to be off, but when she sat, he did, too. It was cold and the heat of him right next to her felt good. The pungent 【创建和谐家园】ell of rain and wet dirt was refreshing after being inside for so long. Verna was not used to being inside so much. She liked the out-of-doors, thought the ground made a fine bed, the trees and fields a fine office, but that part of her life was over now. There was a garden just outside the Prelate's office, but she hadn't had time to put her head out to see it.

  　In the distance, the incessant drums thundered on, like the heartbeat of doom.

  　"I used my Han," he said at last. "I don't feel the presence of anyone else near."

  　"And you can feel the presence of one with Subtractive Magic, yes?" she whispered.

  　He glanced up in the dark. "I never thought of that."

  　"What's this about, Warren?"

  　"Do you think we're alone?"

  　"How should I know?" she snapped.

  　He looked around again and swallowed. "Well, I've been doing a lot of reading lately." He pointed again toward the vaults. "I just thought we should go see Sister Simona."

  　"You already said that. You still haven't told me why."

  　"Some of the things I've been reading have been about dreams," he said cryptically.

  　She tried to gaze into his eyes, but she could only see the dark shape of him. "Simona has been having dreams."

  　His thigh was pressed against hers. He was shaking with the cold. At least she thought it was the cold. Before she realized what she was doing, she had put her arm around him and pulled his head to her shoulder.

  　"Verna," he stammered, "I feel so alone. I'm afraid to talk to anyone. I feel like everyone's watching me. I'm afraid everyone is going to ask me what I'm studying, and why, and under whose orders. I've only seen you once in three days, and there's no one else I can talk to."

  　She patted his back. "I know. Warren. I've wanted to talk to you, too, but I've been so busy. There's so much work to do."

  　"Maybe they're giving you work to keep you occupied and out of their hair while they go about... business."

  　Verna shook her head in the murk. "Maybe. I'm afraid, too, Warren. I don't know how to be Prelate. I'm afraid I'll bring the Palace of the Prophets to ruin if I don't do the things that need to be done. I'm afraid to say no to Leoma, Philippa, Dulcinia, and Maren. They're trying to advise me in how to be Prelate, and if they really are on our side, then their advice is true. If I don't take it, I could be making a big mistake. If the Prelate makes a mistake everyone pays for it. If they aren't on our side, well, the things they ask me to do don't seem as if they could cause any harm. How much ruin can reading reports cause?"

  　"Unless it's to keep you distracted from something important."

  　She stroked his back again before pushing away. "I know. I'll try to go for more 'walks' with you. I think the fresh air is doing me good."

  　Warren squeezed her hand. "I'm glad, Verna." He stood and straightened his dark robes. "Let's go see how Simona is faring."

  　The infirmary was one of the 【创建和谐家园】aller buildings on Hal【创建和谐家园】and Island. The Sisters could heal many common injuries with the aid of their Han, and illnesses beyond the power of their gift usually ended all too quickly in death, so mostly the infirmary housed a few elderly and feeble of the staff who had spent their lives in their work at the Palace of the Prophets, and now had no one to care for them. It also was where the insane were confined. The gift was of limited use for sickness of the mind.

  　Near the door, Verna sent her Han into a lamp and carried it with her as they moved through the simple painted corridors toward where Warren said Simona was confined. Only a few of the rooms were occupied, their residents sending snores, wheezes, and coughs echoing through the dim halls.

  　When they reached the end of the corridor that housed the old and feeble, they had to pass through a series of three flimsy doors, each shielded with powerful webs of varied composition. Shields, however, might be broken by those with the gift, even the insane. The fourth door was iron, with a massive bolt protected by an intricate shield designed to deflect attempts to open it from the other side with the use of magic; the more force applied, the lighter the bolt held. It had been set in place by three Sisters, and so could not be broken by one on the other side.

  　Two guards came to attention when she and Warren rounded the corner. They bowed their heads, but didn't move away from the door. Warren greeted them pleasantly and motioned with a flit of his hand for them to lift the bolt.

  　"Sorry, son, but no one is allowed in."

  　Her fiery eyes fixed on the guard, Verna pushed Warren aside. "Is that right, 'son'?" He nodded confidently. "And who gave those orders?"

  　"My commander, Sister. I don't know who gave the orders to him, but it had to be a Sister of some authority."

  　Scowling, she thrust the sunburst ring in front of his face. “More authority than this?"

  　His eyes widened. "No, Prelate. Of course not. Forgive me, I didn't recognize you."

  　"How many are behind this door?"

  　The bolt sent a clang echoing down the hall. "Just the one Sister, Prelate."

  　"Are there any Sisters attending her?"

  　"No. They've gone for the night."

  　Once on the other side and out of earshot, Warren chuckled. "I guess you've found some use for that ring, at last."

  　Verna slowed to a puzzled stop. "Warren, how do you suppose the ring came to be on that pedestal after the funeral?"

  　Warren's grin held, but barely. "Well, let's see ..." The grin finally vanished. "I don't know. What do you think?"

  　She shook her head. "It had a light shield around it. Not many can spin such a web. If, as you say, Prelate Annalina trusted no one but me, then who did she trust to put the ring there, and spin such a web around it?"

  　"I can't imagine." Warren hiked his damp robes up on his shoulders. "Could she have spun the web herself?''

  　Vema lifted an eyebrow. "From her funeral pyre?"

  　"No, I mean could she have spun it, and then had someone else just put it there. You know, like investing a stick with a spell, so that someone else can light a lamp with it I've seen Sisters do that so the staff can light the lamps without having to carry around a candle dripping hot wax on their fingers, or the floor."

  　Verna raised the lamp higher to look into his eyes. "Warren, that's brilliant."

  　He 【创建和谐家园】iled. The 【创建和谐家园】ile faded. ' "The question remains: who?''

  　She lowered the lamp. "Maybe one of the staff she trusted. Someone without the gift so she wouldn't have to worry about them being ..." She glanced back up the dark, empty hall. "You know what I mean." He nodded that he did as she started out. "I'll have to look into it."

  　Flashes of light were coming from under the door to Sister Simona's room: silent little flickers of lightning licking out through the gap under the door. The shield sparkled when the crackles of light managed to reach it, dissipating the power with counterforces, grounding the magic with an opposite. Sister Simona was trying to break the shield.

  　Since Sister Simona was deranged, that was to be expected. The question was, why wasn't it working? Verna recognized the shield around the door as simple one used to keep young wizards confined when they were being mulish.

  　Verna opened herself to her Han and stepped through the shield. Warren followed as she knocked. The flickers of light coming from under the door cut off,

  　"Simona? It's Verna Sauventreen. You remember me, don't you, dear? May I come in?"

  　No answer came, so Verna turned the knob and eased the door open. She held

  　the lamp out before herself, sending its yellowy glimmers ahead to break the darkness within. The room was empty but for a tray with a pitcher, bread, and fruit, a pallet, a chamber pot, and a filthy little woman cowering in the corner.

  　“Leave me be, demon!" she shrieked.

  　"Simona, It's all right. It's only me, Verna, and my friend, Warren. Don't be afraid."

  　Simona blinked in the light, as if it were the sun just risen. Verna set the lamp behind, so as not to blind the woman.

  　Simona peered up. "Verna?"

  　"That's right."

  　Simona kissed her ring finger a dozen times, gushing thanks and blessings on the Creator. She scurried across the floor on her hands and knees to snatch up the hem of Verna's dress, kissing it, too, over and over.

  　"Oh, thank you for coming." She scrambled to her feet. "Hurry! We must escape!"

  　Verna grasped the 【创建和谐家园】all woman's shoulders and sat her down on her sleeping pallet. With a gentle hand she 【创建和谐家园】oothed back the shock of gray hair.

  　Her hand froze.

  　Simona had a collar around her neck. That was why she wasn't able to break the shield. Verna had never seen a Sister wearing a Rada'Han. She had seen hundreds of boys and young men wearing one, but never a Sister. The sight of it turned her stomach. She had been taught that in the dim past, Rada'Han had been put around the necks of Sisters who had lost their minds. Having one with the gift afflicted with insanity was like loosing lightning in a crowded market square. They had to be controlled. But still ...

  　"Simona, you are safe. You're in the palace, under the watchful eye of the Creator. No harm will come to you."

  　Simona broke into tears. "I must flee. Please, let me go. I must flee."

  　"Why must you flee, my dear?"

  　The woman wiped tears from the dirt on her face. "He comes."