Fand opened her attic bedroom window, grabbed hold of the thatch and pulled her body up onto the roof. In her apron pocket was the first letter her father had written her mother. There were only seven letters, but each spoke of a love that was perfect and rich. It was the kind of love she wanted and believed with her entire being that she was destined to know. Who had read her father's letters to her mother? How had her mother responded, if she had responded? Her mother, like most women, had been illiterate. Fand murmured, “Praise the Keeper, Zog taught me to read.”

When she was only eight years old, she had found the letters jammed in the back of Uncle Wert’s wardrobe. Why she was pilfering his belongs she did not remember. Curiosity, probably or maybe boredom. Still, she had come across a box holding seven letters. She knew better than to take them to Uncle Wert. He had hidden them for some purpose. Instead, she took them to Zog. He had read them all to her. When he finished he asked, “Would you like to be able to read them yourself.” Awed to silence and eager to learn, she had only manage to nod her head.

On nights when Uncle Wert was at the Tavern, Zog had taught her how to write and pronounce letters and then he taught her words. It was like magic and she soon was able toread her father’s words when ever she wanted. In truth she had soon memorized the letters. Zog shared books with her and poetry. Her reading was supposed to be a secret. Both she and Zog knew it was against Council rules to educate females but this did not stop either of them. It was Zog’s one transgression against his beloved Council.

One terrible night, Uncle Wert had gone off to The Tavern, but he had forgotten his money pouch. His unexpected return found Fand seated at the table reading a letter by candle light. The instant he saw the letter he broke into a wrath like she had never heard or seen before. He had whipped her hard and then he whipped Zog for teaching her to read. For what ever reason though, he had let her keep the letters. Tonight was the first time he had ever spoken of destroying them. That must never happen! Never!

The clouds thinned out. The moon once again painted the earth in her light. Fand unfolded the parchment letter. It crackled. The sound of it was like the sigh of a loved one. Silently she read, "Dear Stella, Tonight, when I saw you, I knew I had been made to love you. I never expected to feel anything so strong for another. Then, there you were, dancing at the harvest festival, so lovely. You stole my heart, and I shall never get it back. Stella means star, and that is truly what you will be for me. The guiding light of my life…" The image of Pyre's stricken face came to Fand's mind. If only he could speak words to her like the ones in the letter…maybe he could have turned her heart. The problem was he was not good with words. He was Pyre, familiar as dirt, nothing mysterious or enticing about him. Closing her eyes and clutching her dove pendant, she prayed, "Please Keeper, Pyre must not be the one. I want what my parents had. I want true love." Fand let go of the dove and put the letter back in her pocket.

A strange rumbling filled the air. She looked across the fields. In the distance she saw the dark forms of riders, huge men on huge horses. They rode across the potato field and then headed toward the woods. Fand’s heart hammered inside of her. Zog had told her stories of monstrous men, called Sonpur, who lived beyond the Council Wall. She slipped through her window and rushed down the ladder into Zog's bedroom. She shook him. ”Zog, wake up?”

He opened one eye and asked, "What is it Fand?"

"I think I saw Sonpur in the potato field."

He closed his eye. "Right. You were dreaming. Now go back to bed."

"I wasn't dreaming. I saw them."

Opening both eyes, he asked, "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Though, reluctant to leave his warm bed, Zog crawled out and put on his britches. "I will go see."

"You can't go out there alone!"

"I suppose a mere girl will protect me?"

"I'm not a mere girl." Fand left the room and went into the entry. She took her bow and arrows from their peg on the wall. Zog came out of his room. He laughed when he saw her. This angered her. She said, "You know I'm a better shot than you are."

"Tis, true."

Outside, the moonlight was so bright they didn't need a lantern. When they reached the middle of the potato field they found nothing. The dirt hadn't even been turned. Zog shook his head. "I knew you were dreaming."

"I was not. I saw them."

Zog put his arm around her shoulder and said, "Such a fertile imagination." His condescension angered her. She flicked his arm off her shoulder. She knew what she had seen.

*

The next morning, Fand took her bow and arrows out to the potato field. She followed the long soft rows of dirt. Perhaps in day's light she would find what the darkness had hidden. She followed the path she thought they had taken to the woods. She studied each tree for a scrap of cloth. Something. Finally her diligence was rewarded. On a jagged branch, she found a tuft of coarse black hair. She jumped up and snatched it down. Her dove pendant suddenly grew cold against her throat. It had never done that before. She touched it. It stung like frost.

Shaken, she made her way back home. When she reached the pear orchard, she saw Pyre and ducked into the shadow of the barn. She couldn't face him this morning. He entered the house. Now she couldn’t go inside!

Pyre came out of the house. She placed an arrow in her bow. He wouldn't try anything if she were armed. She pretended not to see him, and he pretended not to see her. Still, she knew he was aware of her, just like she was aware of him. He had something dark blue clutched to his chest. When he was safely down the path, Fand went into the house.

Zog came into the entry and took Fand's bow and arrows and hung them on their peg. He asked, "Out hunting this morning?"

Fand nodded.

"You little liar. So did you find any tracks?"

"I found this." Fand pulled the tuft of hair from her pocket. Zog rubbed it between his fingers. He sniffed it. Fand watched his eyes. They were perplexed.

He said, "This is just a bit of horse mane, Fand. You know many people are camping in the woods to witness tomorrow's ceremony." This was true. He continued, “The Sonpur would have had to breech the Council Wall. Jerue made no mention of that to me last night."

"Maybe he doesn't know."

"Jerue would know." Zog shoved the tuft of hair into his pocket. "Speaking of Jerue. Guess who he asked to apply to the Council?"

Fand had no idea.

"Pyre."

Dual sensations ripped through Fand, relief and deep hurt.

Zog said, "Come now, isn't this what you wanted? When he is accepted you won't have to marry him."

Fand snapped, "If he is accepted."

"He will be. Jerue says so. So don't worry about that." Zog looked into her eyes. He teased, "Fand is your female pride hurt? Look at you. You did enjoy the fact poor Pyre mooned over you after all.” He leaned toward her and said, "Little One, you have the freedom to find your dream man now. Rejoice."

Though she should be happy she was not. Her prayer had been answered, yet she felt hollow.

A hung over Uncle Wert stumbled out of his bedroom. He yawned and said, "I thought I heard Pyre's voice."

Mischief sparked in Zog's eyes. He was going to enjoy telling Uncle Wert about Pyre. Fand didn't want to hear it again. She excused herself and went up to her room.

Even with her fingers rammed in her ears and her pillow over her head she could still hear Uncle Wert's shouts of protest. "The bloody hell!" he yelled. "We had a deal. A binding contract. Pyre can't go join that stinking Council. He promised to marry Fand."

Zog mumbled something and Uncle Wert responded, "That Viper, I told you his name was never to be spoken in my presence. Not only has the bastard stolen my son, now he has taken my nephew-in-law as well. He doesn't want Pyre or you, he just wants revenge against me because I'm the only one in this damn village with the balls to defy him."

Fand heard the door slam and then she heard Uncle Wert’s footsteps coming up the ladder. He shouted, "Get that damn pillow off your head girl!”

Fand removed the pillow. She sat up and looked at her uncle. His face was very red and his eyes were popping in their sockets. He pointed his finger at her and said again, "Pyre never would have agreed to that viper's scheme if he knew you would soon be in his bed." He stepped off the ladder and into the room. Swiftly, his hand came down and struck her cheek. He spun away from her and stomped down the ladder.

Tears burned Fand's eyes. She pulled her knees to her chest. With Zog and Pyre gone, she would be left alone with Uncle Wert's moods. Perhaps she had been too hasty in her prayers.

*

The moon had lost its full face. With her arms on the window sill, Fand sat staring up at the sky. It was late and she should be in bed. The trouble was the when she went to sleep, she would rush toward morning. Not just any morning, but the morning when Zog would seal his destiny. He would be far away without any contact with home. She lay her face down on her arms. Not more tears, not now. She was weary with her own weeping. The future looked very bleak.

The sound of thunder startled Fan, but there were not any storm clouds. The front door banged open and then the cottage disappeared. The dove at her throat shot cold through her entire body. She looked around her. She was in a huge meadow, no this was a grassland. The thunder of large hooves charging toward her made her swing around. The Sonpur! Their fur covered body’s caught the moonlight and glistened. One reached out and scooped her up. It smelled foul, it smelled of carrion. Roughly, it, he, swung her in front of him. He held her in a crushing grasp.

Fand struggled to get free of him. She tried to scream out, but no sound came from her.

In the distance she heard a tap, tap, tap. The sound pulled at her…