from meeting the fate that others had met because of her.
For a moment, she felt terribly sad as she thought about what would happen shortly. She was still young. There was still so much she hadn’t seen or experienced. And now she never would.
Then a kind of peaceful resignation settled over her. Perhaps this was her fate. Perhaps she had been heading toward this choice ever since the nightmares began.
She stood up, walked over to the simple table and chair that were in the corner, and sat down there to write a brief message on a short sheet of parchment. Then she got dressed and left her chamber, heading for Brannon’s bedroom. When she got there, she shook the boy awake.
Chandra indicated the parchment in her hand. “I have to send a message. I need your help.”
He blinked sleepily. “Huh?”
“Bring your bow and arrow.” She pulled back his covers and hauled him out of his bed.
He stumbled after her, following her out of his room and along the corridors of the monastery. By the time they reached the south tower, he seemed to be awake.
“We’re sending a message to them?” he asked, looking down at the mountainside with her. The moon was full tonight, casting a glow over the landscape. “The way they sent one to us?”
“Yes.” She rolled the piece of parchment tightly around the arrow Brannon had brought, then tied it with a thin piece of twine she had brought from her room. “Here.”
He looked at her handiwork and nodded. “Yes, this will fly.”
“If they shot an arrow into the south tower…” She looked down at the rugged landscape below the tower. She could see the white glow of illumination from a base camp. “Yes, there they are. Can you shoot that far?”
“What am I aiming at?”
“That white glow. It’s probably there to help a sentry keep watch in the night. If the arrow goes that far, they’ll find it.”
Brannon took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes, I can do that. I’ve been practicing.”
“Mother Luti told me. And to make sure they see it…” She filled her breath with fiery heat, then blew gently on the head of the arrow. It caught fire. “Here. Quickly now.”
He took the arrow with a nod, his talented young fingers comfortably handling the burning head as he prepared to shoot. Brannon raised the bow, drew back his arm, and aimed. After several steady breaths, he drew back a little further on the bow, his whole body taut with the strain, his gaze focused intently on his target. When he loosed the arrow, Chandra heard it sing through the air as it left the quivering bow behind. The small flame sailed through the night, landing at the edge of the base camp.
There wasn’t enough light for her to see any figures in the distant camp. But she was able to see that the flaming arrow was lifted off the ground and its fire doused.
“They’ve got it!” Brannon said. “Now what?”
“Now we wait for a reply.”
Chandra waited anxiously all the next day for a response to her message, but it didn’t arrive until the day after that. And then she understood why it had taken so long.
She was playing with Brannon, trying to help relieve the natural restlessness of an adventurous boy now forbidden to go beyond the walls of the monastery. Brother Sergil came looking for her, to tell her she was wanted in Mother Luti’s workshop. Brannon followed her there, but waited outside the door, as instructed.
When she entered the workshop, Mother Luti said to her, “Chandra, you have a visitor.”
Her stunned gaze was already fixed on him. “Gideon?”
He nodded to her in silent greeting.
Gideon looked considerably better than he had the last time she’d seen him. His thick black hair was neatly braided down his back, and his face was clean-shaven and free of bruises. His pale brown tunic and leggings were clean and tidy, and he looked healthy and alert. The healing magic of the Order was obviously effective.
He did not have his sural with him; as a member of the Order, he would not have been admitted to the monastery while carrying a weapon.
And Chandra, though surprised to see him, specifically, wasn’t at all surprised that he had agreed to come here alone and unarmed, even after a pyromancer had killed one of his colleagues at the gate the other day. She knew by now that Gideon did what others wouldn’t or couldn’t do.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Walbert accepts your terms,” he said. “I’ve come to take you into custody.”
“Terms?” Luti repeated, looking quizzically at Chandra.
“He accepts?” When Gideon nodded, Chandra took a deep breath. “Good. I’m glad.”
“What terms?” Luti asked.
“I’m turning myself in,” Chandra told her. “Once I am in custody, Walbert will withdraw his forces from the mountain.” She looked at Gideon. “Will he keep his word?”
“Yes.”
She nodded, believing him-his promise confirmed what she expected of Walbert from what others had said of the man. Then she said to Mother Luti, “There are no other conditions. The Keralians will not be expected to abide by any terms or rules.”
“Chandra,” Luti said with concern, “are you sure this is what you want to do?”
“I’m sure.” She looked at Gideon. “And I’m ready to leave.”
“No!” Brannon burst into the workshop. “You can’t go!”
Chandra turned around to look at the boy. She should have realized he would eavesdrop. “I have to go,” she said to him. “Mother Luti will explain it to you.”
“Something bad will happen to you there,” Brannon said with certainty.
“Maybe,” she said, “but I have to go.”
“I’m coming with you!”
“No.” She shook her head.
“But you promised! You said that the next time you left, I could come with you.”
“I did not promise,” she said firmly. “Anyway, I feel certain that you’d be very unhappy in the Temple.”
“Why?”
“It doesn’t suit people like us,” Chandra said.
The boy looked to Mother Luti for a second opinion, but it was Gideon who spoke. “Chandra’s right. You wouldn’t like it there.”
“You won’t like it there, either,” Brannon said to Chandra.
“No, but that doesn’t matter anymore,” Chandra said. “This is my choice, Brannon.”
He looked angry and sad. “When are you coming back?”
She didn’t answer, not knowing what to say.
“Soon?” he prodded.
“No,” she said truthfully. “I don’t think I’ll be coming back soon.”
Chandra walked through the large front gate and beyond the monastery walls with Gideon at her side. When the gate closed behind them, she let out her breath in a rush.
Her decision was made, accepted, and enacted. She had committed herself to her fate, however unpleasant-and perhaps short-it might be. The Keralians wouldn’t suffer or die the way others had indeed suffered and died because of her. She had prevented it from happening again.
Mother Luti had dealt with Walbert at a distance for years, and she knew his reputation was good, though she disliked what he intended to see in the world. She would not have let Chandra leave if she suspected Walbert of treachery or dishonesty in this matter. And Gideon had said Walbert would keep his word, and Chandra believed him.
Now she stood between the walls of the monastery and the mystical white barrier that had surrounded it for days. Beyond the barrier, a dozen armed soldiers awaited her.
Not quite knowing how to proceed, she glanced at Gideon.
He was looking straight ahead, wearing the impassive expression he relied on when he wanted to conceal things from others.
“Gideon?” she prodded, wondering what to do.
“Walbert asked me to come,” he said quietly, without looking at her, “because he wanted to send someone
