There was an air of anticipation (or was it dread?) in the dining room. Pyre sat between Rube Johan and Wilm Koft. Both seemed on edge. As he looked around at his fellow Apprentices he had the strange sensation that there was a wall around him. Who had was encompassing him, mind, body and spirit? Fear shot through him. This could not be good. His eyes traveled to the Dining Hall doors. Guards were posted. This was unusual. Something was up. Something was about to happen, he could feel it. Wa it about to happen to him? He asked, Rube, “What’s with the guards?”

Rube shrugged and said, “Dunno.”

Pyre sensed that Rube did know, but he wasn’t telling. Did this have something to do with- Pyre felt eyes upon him. Jerue held him in his gaze. Was it Jerue that now held him. It did not feel like Jerue. The Head Councilman motioned to Pyre.

Reluctantly Pyre rose from the bench. His encounters with Jerue were becoming more and more difficult. Slowly he walked to the Council table. He felt all eyes following his progress across the room. When he reached the head table Jerue said, “Wilm Koft to do your after supper chores.”

Wary Pyre said, “Thank you Sir, but why?”

Though Jerue smiled, his smile did not comfort Pyre. The Head Councilman said, “I have something I want to show you. After you finish eating, meet me outside the Inner Sanctum.”

“Yes Sir.” Pyre bowed. His knees trembled. He thanked the Keeper that his Apprentice robe hid their trembling. He felt quite unsteady, even light headed, but he forced himself to walk back to his table as if he was just fine.

Rube whispered, “What was that about?”

Wilm said, “I dunno but, I get to do Pyre’s chores tonight.” He looked at Pyre and asked, “Why?”

Pyre could honestly say, “I don’t know.” He didn’t. Whatever it was could not be good.

To avoid further conversation Pyre bent his head low and shoveled stew in his mouth. It stuck in his throat when he tried to swallow. After several tense seconds it went down. This was no good. He picked up his bowl and took it to the kitchen.

At the hearth Cook Grayson was at the sink washing his foul concoction off the pots and bowls. When he saw Pyre’s uneaten food, he asked, “My victuals ain’t agreeing with you boy?”

“Do they ever?”

“Nay, but do ye have to be so honest?” He gave Pyre a quirk of a grin.

“Sorry.” Pyre exited through the kitchen door and crossed the herb garden to the Inner Sanctum. As he waited for Jerue he looked up at the twilight sky. It was streaked with burnt orange clouds. A slight breeze ruffled his robes. Then Pyre caught a whiff of the nearby stables. Earlier that day, he had given Braun a good brushing and spent some time riding around the city. He and Braun both longed for wide open spaces, but neither of them were allowed outside the city.

A thought dropped into his head, this time last year he had been with Fand. They had been together on Braun. Fand’s arms had been wrapped around his waist and her cheek pressed upon his shoulder. Immediately he stopped his thoughts. It hurt too much too go there even in memory and it was dangerous. He turned his thoughts and his eyes to the fading light of day.

Pyre heard a step behind him. He turned, it was Jerue. The Head Councilman smiled and said, “Punctual as always.” He placed his hand on the ornate wooden doors and said a few words. The doors of the Inner Sanctum sprung open. At the center of the Sanctum’s floor was a circle of pale orange light. Pyre glanced up at the domed skylight grateful it was just natural light and not some magic.

Without speaking Jerue entered the circle of light. A long shadow formed on the floor behind him. In the even glow he looked other worldly. It was as if he had been touched by fire. He passed into the shadows. All Pyre could make out was his silhouette against the western wall. Jerue said, “Pyre, come here.”

Obedient but reluctant, Pyre crossed through the fast fading circle of light and into the shadows. Jerue lit a sconce candle with a snap of his fingers. He touched a wooden panel that slid open. In the flickering light Pyre saw a rectangular vault that was taller than he was. Jerue repeated an incantation and the vault clicked server also times before it opened. When it did, the middle drawer shot out. Jerue peered into it. Pyre saw a series of wooden boxes. Jerue picked up a small one and opened it. Inside was a silver dove. He asked, “Pyre, have you ever seen anything like this?”

A lie would not work. Jerue knew he had. “Yes sir.”

“Where?”

“Fand Geworden had one.”

Jerue dangled the charm between his long fingers. He asked, “Do you know how a poor farmer’s niece came to have a pendant from Kedir?”

This was a question Pyre couldn’t answer. He had never heard of Kedir.

With eyes narrowed, Jerue asked, “You don’t know?”

“No Sir.” He could feel Jerue’s mind bending toward his, trying to push through whatever barrier had formed around him. Pyre had to force himself to remain calm.

Jerue put the dove back into its box and selected another. This one was larger and very ornate. It was made of ebony and inlaid with gold. On its surface was the Beidenung. His long fingers caressed the word. He touched a button and the box opened. Inside was nothing but a circular indentation in the black velvet. In a low voice Jerue said, “Jerim’s Relic remains lost. Petran Schon never divulged its location.”

The sensation of Jerue’s mind prying into Pyre’s should be overwhelming only it wasn’t. The Head Councilman’s turned his cold eyes to Pyre. They seemed to be penetrating his soul, only they weren’t. Thankful he did not have to lie on this point Pyre blurted out, “I know nothing of Jerim’s Relic.”

Jerue raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

“I would not lie about that Sir.”

A strange fire flickered in Jerue’s pale eyes. The fire was cold and seemed to crystallize the air between them. With an angry hiss, Jerue said, “You are lying. Tell me your friend Zog revealed it to you. Where is it Pyre? Where did he hide it?”

Pyre could feel his eyes grow wide in astonishment. Jerue actually thought Zog would share such a secret? Hid heart began to hammer away inside of him. He had to steady his voice. “Sah Zog never shared such a secret with me, nor would he. If he knew where it was, he would never trust me with such information. Never. Sir, I swear. I don’t know where it is.”

An ugly frown creased Jerue’s face. Again he said, “You are lying.”

“No, Sir. I would not lie to you.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

Again he repeated, “No, Sir.” It wasn’t true, but he had to say it anyway.

Through clenched teeth Jerue said, “You best not be.” He jerked his thumb toward the Inner Sanctum doors. “Go back to your cubicle until you are called for. You are dismissed Apprentice.”

Completely shaken Pyre made his way across the floor. The circle of light was gone. When he stumbled out the doors, he was well aware Jerue’s mind was attached to his. He could feel it pushing and probing. Panic shot through him. He was going to break. He could feel it. A power greater than Jerue’s seemed to cut through Jerue’s hold. This sensation had a different quality than what Appocca used to protect Pyre’s thoughts. Jerue’s presence diminished. It was still there but it was weaker. Pyre could only wonder who had hold of his mind. Was this for good or ill?

Just outside the dormitory, Loren Uhr was waiting for him. All at once Pyre knew who had taken him hostage. It was Loren. Loren smiled and pressed a finger to his lips. He ushered Pyre to his cubicle.

Once they were inside, Pyre tested his mind. Jerue was still there but he felt very far away. He asked, “Is it you?”

Loren nodded.

Pyre asked, “How?”

“Can’t say. It’s just a trick me mum taught me.”

Pyre’s mouth dropped open in surprise. Mothers, women didn’t have such power did they? This was more than a trick. Who was Loren's mother? More importantly, who was Loren?

Gently popping him in the jaw, Loren said, "Shut your trap and no more questions for both our sakes." His voice dropped as he added. "No matter what happens, know that Dr. Kran and I will not forget you."