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  　‘You would claw your own eyes out, for fear of seeing them come to question you every day. That is why you are not to know the names of the others: so you can’t give them over. That is why they don’t know your name: so they can’t give you over. It is to protect us all, so we may serve. The only name you know is mine.’

  　‘But Sister ... I would bite my own tongue off before I ever gave them your name.’

  　‘You say that now. But were there a Rada’Han around your neck, you would be begging to give me up just to have it off ... And it isn’t my forgiveness that matters. If you fail us, the Nameless One will not be forgiving. When you meet his eyes, it will make whatever could be done to you with the Rada’Han while you were alive seem a pleasant time at tea.’

  　‘But I serve ... I am sworn ... I have given the oath.’

  　Those who serve well will be rewarded when the Nameless One is free of the veil. Those who fail him, or fight him, will have an eternity to regret their mistake.’

  　‘Of course, Sister.’ She was staring furiously at the carpet now. ‘I live only to serve.’ She knitted her fingers back together. ‘I will not fail our Master. On my oath.’

  　‘On your soul.’

  　Her defiant, violet flecked eyes came up. ‘I have given my oath.’

  　She nodded as she sank back in the chair. ‘As have we all, Sister. As have we all.’ She stared at the other’s eyes a moment. ‘Did the book say anything else?’

  　‘I didn’t have time to search it thoroughly, but there were some other things I caught. He is with the Mother Confessor. He is promised as her mate.’

  　She frowned. The Mother Confessor.’ She waved her hand. That is no problem. What else.’

  　‘He is the Seeker.’

  　She slapped her hand on the desk. ‘Curse the Light!’ She let out a noisy breath. The Seeker. Well, we can deal with that. Anything more?’

  　The other nodded slowly, leaning closer. ‘He is strong, and grown, yet only two days after he triggered the gift the headaches made him unconscious.’

  　She rose slowly out of her chair. This time it was her eyes that went wide. Two days,’ she whispered. ‘Are you sure? Two days?’

  　The other shrugged. ‘I am only telling you what the book said. I’m sure of what it said. I’m not sure it is true. I don’t see how it could be.’

  　She sank back into her chair. ‘Two days.’ She stared at her desk. The sooner we get a Rada’Han around his neck, the better.’

  　‘Even the Sisters of the Light would agree with you about that. There was a message sent back. From the Prelate.’

  　She lifted an eyebrow. The Prelate herself sent orders?’

  　The other nodded. ‘Yes.’ Under her breath, she added, ‘I wish I knew if she was with us, or against us.’

  　She ignored the comment. ‘What did she say?’

  　That if he refuses the third offer, Sister Verna is to kill him herself. Have you ever heard of such an order? If he is really this strong, and he refuses the third time, he would be dead in a few weeks anyway. Why would she give such an order?’

  　‘Have you ever heard of anyone refusing the first offer?’

  　‘Well, no, I guess I haven’t.’

  　‘It is one of the rules. If one with the gift refuses all three offers, they are to be killed, to spare them the suffering at the end, the madness. You have never seen such an order before because you have never heard of anyone refusing the first offer.

  　‘I have spent time in the archives, looking through the prophecies. That is where I saw reference to the rule. The Prelate knows all the obscure rules, the old rules. And she is afraid; she has read the prophecies too.’

  　‘Afraid?’ she asked, wide-eyed. The Prelate? I have never seen her afraid of anything.’

  　She nodded up at the woman. ‘She is afraid now. Either way suits our purposes. Either he is collared, or he is dead. If he is collared, we will deal with him, in our way, as we have always done. If he is dead, we won’t have to. Maybe better he were dead. Maybe better he were dead before the Sisters of the Light find out what he is, if they don’t already know.’

  　The other leaned over the desk again, lowering her voice. ‘If they know, or find out, there are those among the Sisters of the Light who would kill him.’

  　She studied the violet flecks a moment. ‘Indeed there are.’ A 【创建和谐家园】ile spread across her face. ‘What a dangerous dilemma for them. What a glorious opportunity for us.’ Her 【创建和谐家园】ile faded. ‘What of the other matter?’

  　The woman straightened. ‘Ranson and Weber are waiting where you wanted them.’ She folded her arms beneath hei breasts. They were pretty cocky, because they have passed all the tests, and tomorrow are to be released.’ A sadistic grin came to her thin lips and flecked eyes. ‘I gave them a little reminder that they still wear the collar. I’m surprised we can’t hear their knees knocking together all the way up here.’

  　She ignored the other’s 【创建和谐家园】ile. ‘I have lessons to give. You will go in my place. Tell them I had reports to work on. I’ll go see to our two friends. They may have passed all the Prelate’s tests, but they have not yet passed all of mine. One has an oath to give. And the other ...’

  　She leaned halfway over the desk, hunger in her flecked eyes. ‘Which one? Which one are you going to ... Oh, I so wish I could watch. Or help. Promise me you will tell me everything?’

  　She 【创建和谐家园】iled at the other’s eagerness. ‘Everything. I promise. From beginning to end. Every last scream. Now go see to my lessons for me.’

  　The woman danced through the doorway like a giddy schoolgirl. She was too eager. That kind of eagerness was dangerous. That kind of lust made one forget to be careful, made one take chances. She pulled a knife from a drawer, and made a mental note to use her less in the future, and keep an eye on her.

  　She tested the edge gingerly with a thumb and, satisfied it was razor sharp, tucked the knife up her sleeve, the sleeve without the dacra. She plucked a 【创建和谐家园】all, dusty statue from the shelf, and slipped it into a pocket. Before she was around the desk and through the door, she remembered one more item, and turned back to pick up the stout rod leaning against the side of her desk.

  　It was late, and the halls were quiet and mostly empty. Despite the heat, she pulled her short, thin, blue cotton cloak tighter across her shoulders. Thoughts of this new one with the gift gave her a chill. Grown. A man.

  　She shook her head as she walked silently over the long carpets, past lamps set in wall brackets centered in the raised cherry paneling, past tables set with dried flowers, and past heavily draped windows looking out over the bailey and courtyard below. Lights of the city in the distance twinkled like a carpet of stars. Slightly rank air drifted in the windows. Must be near low tide, she thought.

  　The cleaning staff, polishing a chair-rail molding here, or a banister there, dropped into deep curtsies as she swept past. She hardly noticed them, and certainly didn’t acknowledge them. They were beneath her attention.

  　Grown. Into a man.

  　Her face heated with anger at the thought. How could this be? Someone had made a serious mistake. A mistake. An oversight. It had to be that.

  　A maidservant on her hands and knees, concentrating on wiping at a spot on a carpet, looked up just in time to leap back out of the way with a ‘Forgive me, Sister.’ On her hands and knees, she touched her head to the floor with another apology.

  　Grown. It would have been difficult enough to turn this one if he were still a boy. But a man? She shook her head again. Grown. She 【创建和谐家园】acked the rod against her thigh in frustration. Two maidservants nearby jumped at the sound and fell to their knees, burying their tightly closed eyes behind prayerful hands.

  　Well, grown or not, he would have a Rada’Han around his neck, and a whole palace full of Sisters to watch over him. But even wearing a Rada’Han, he was still grown into a man. And the Seeker. He might be difficult to control. Dangerously difficult.

  　If necessary, she guessed, he could always have a ‘training accident.’ If not that, there were certainly enough other dangers to one with the gift, dangers that could leave a man worse than dead. But if she could turn him, or use him, that would make all the trouble worthwhile.

  　She turned into a hall she at first thought empty, then noticed a young woman standing in the shadows between lamps, gazing out a window. She thought she recognized her. One of the novices. She stopped behind the young woman and folded her arms. The novice tapped her toe on the carpet as she leaned on her elbows through the opened window, looking at the gates below.

  　She cleared her throat. The young woman spun, gasped, and dropped into a curtsy.

  　‘Forgive me, Sister, I didn’t hear you coming. A good evening to you.’

  　When the big brown eyes came up, she put the end of the rod under the young woman’s chin and lifted it a little more. ‘Pasha, isn’t it?’

  　‘Yes, Sister. Pasha Maes. Novice, third rank. Next in line to be named.’