Was it morning or night? Pyre had no way of knowing. The only thing he was certain of was that the fleas, ticks and lice in his cell appreciated his presence. From time to time he felt little rodent eyes watching him, waiting for a chance at fresh flesh. So far the rodents remained unsatisfied.

Four meals ago, someone had smuggled a few torn pages of The Prayer Book beneath his bowl of stew. It was the section on endurance and hope. Pyre pulled the tattered pages from his pocket. He placed them in the slice of light at the door base ready to be read the instant anyone opened the outer door. He had committed himself to memorizing every phrase of these prayers. It was the only thing that made him believe he had not been forgotten. Softly he recited the words, "Our hope is in your love. Your love is our shelter though the world may forsake us and our bodies may fail." How long would it be before his body began to fail. At his best estimation he was only being fed sporadically. He had no idea when food or water would arrive. His thirst sometimes became so unbearable he wanted to scream and yet he forced himself to pray. Often he cried. The tears brought relief. They had the power to express his hurt, his anger and his fear in the way screaming could not. Wearily he focused all his attention on the prayer. This time in this dark place was not unlike the time he had been badly burned. The previous suffering had taught him that endurance was possible, that living in the moment was something he could do even though he was afraid and miserable. Firmly he said aloud, "My hope is in your love." A tear slid down his cheek. He was so lonely. The Keeper's love was real to him, but he longed for human contact.

Beyond the door a Guard shouted. Boots crunched gravel in the hall. He had been expecting another interrogation at some point in time. Now must be the time. Quickly, he grabbed the pages and scooted away from the door. He crumpled the pages in his hand and shoved them into his pocket. The door swung open. Bright torch light blinded him. It hurt his eyes. He squinted at the two dark silhouettes that towered over him.

One said, “Get up and come with us.”

The other didn’t wait for Pyre to do as he was told. He jerked him to his feet and pushed him through the door. Pyre's eyes adjusted to the light. Light was a glorious thing. It was so necessary. To see again, for even a little while was a gift. They headed up a flight of steps. At the top was another door. Was it possible he might see out a window? At the thought of seeing the sky his heart leapt. He was thrust into the room. It was the prison lavatory. It did not have a window but it was bathed in soft candle light. The tiny flames were beautiful flickers. Roughly, Pyre was stripped of his robe. His fingers had just an instant to retrieve the ball of parchment from his pocket.

The prison warden, a stocky man with thick dark hair came into the room. He nodded at the Guards. They picked up Pyre and tossed him into a tub of warm water. The water smelled strong. The wadded pages in his became sodden. A cloud of vermin rose from his body and floated in the tub. One of the Guards pushed his head under water. Pyre had the presence of mind to hold his breath. This water was poison laced. The guard jerked pulled Pyre's head up. More vermin leapt into the water and instantly died. As soon as he took in two gasps of air, the Guard shoved him under again. In Pyre's hand the pages of The Prayer Book disintegrated. Grief filled him. At least he had managed to memorize five of the prayers. Though the others were lost he still had those five.

After two more dunks the Guard seemed satisfied. Pyre was hoisted out of the tub. The Warden threw him a towel and left the room. The Guards remained.

For several seconds Pyre stood filling his lungs with air. Slowly he began to towel himself off. The lavatory door opened. Loren entered. It took everything Pyre had in him, not to run to him and throw his arms around him. Tears pricked at his eyes but he held them back. He must not betray his friend. In Loren's arms were a pile of clothes. He did not speak as he handed him the pile. Their eyes met. Pyre felt the strength of Loren's friendship and also the innate power he possessed. He wanted to give him a word of thanks, but he knew better. Loren said, “Hurry up and get dressed Apprentice.”

Pyre put on the undergarments then the robe, at the bottom of the pile was a green cowl. It must be a gift from Master Uber. In his mind, Loren said, “Many are praying for you. You have not been forgotten.” Loren turned to the Guards. "Escort the prisoner to his next destination."

The two Guards roughly took hold of Pyre.

Loren said, “Let him walk unheeded.”

The Guards looked at one another, shrugged and obeyed Loren. How was it that a mere nurse had authority over Council Guards?

With Loren in front, Pyre was led through the prison to the main doors. Loren pushed open the wooden doors. Pyre looked up. The evening sky was streaked with fire. It was so beautiful. A warm breeze blew from the south. Pyre took in one great gulp of fresh air. It was so pure after the stench underground. The Guards prodded him forward.The Common was deserted. There wasn’t even a servant around. Pyre was taken to the school and lead up a winding staircase. Four guards stood in front of two stone doors. Loren said, “Open.”

The doors were slid open. The instant Pyre stepped inside the room he knew where he was. This was the place of clandestine meetings. This was the place the hood took him. He looked at the stage. Jerue sat behind a table. To Loren he said, "Go." To the Guards he said, "Close the doors." When the room was empty and the doors were closed he looked down at Pyre and asked, “Would you like to get out of prison?”

Something rose inside of Pyre. A courage he did not possess. He heard himself saying, "That depends on how?"

"Simple. Tell me where the Geworden girl is?”

Pyre said, “In heaven.”

"Liar, you know as well as I do that she is not dead." He rose from the table and came to him. He cuffed Pyre upside his head and asked, “How is it that I can not penetrate your mind? Who is protecting you?”

"The Keeper."

His words brought fury into Jerue's eyes. "The Keeper! The Keeper does not protect liars! You know where Fand is. You have traveled Beyond. You know who she is with. You know. How is it that you have done these things. How? You are surely not smart enough, not even Zog was smart enough." The Head Councilman halted. Pyre watched as he struggled to gain control of himself. After several silent moments Jerue said, "According to Gregor Zwart, you and Fand were lovers. According to our records we have found Transferrance residue all around the Geworden farm and in our Council Dining Hall. In and out you went some how, satisfying your lust with that girl."

Anger rose in Pyre. Rage colored his face. "How dare you speak such filth. Fand is pure."

Jerue smiled. "IS, IS. Then she is not dead."

Angry with himself for being so easily baited Pyre said nothing.

"Tell me where she is or your family will suffer."

Pyre knew this was not and idle threat. How could he keep his family safe? He couldn't. Jerue was evil, an evil that cloaked itself in righteousness. He knew he must be careful, very careful. He sent a prayer upward asking for wisdom. The first words that came out of his mouth were, "Why is her whereabouts so important to you?"

Jerue visibly flinched. His eyes held a trace of fear which he quickly extinguished. Someone, something was compelling Jerue. What was it? Who was it?

Pyre proceeded, "Fand would not want me to risk my family for her. My father raised me to be an honorable man. Thus I am stuck, here with a single truth. I do not know where Fand is."

"You know who she is with."

Pyre looked at Jerue and realized, Jerue knew who Fand was with too. "I can't tell you more than you already know. I have been kept in the dark, for the protection of my family and myself. If you harm or murder to get further knowledge, you will gain nothing but more sin heaped upon your own head."

With one hard crashing blow, Jerue slapped him. "You will tell me where the girl is. You will!"

There was such fear in Jerue. Fear that only something or someone more powerful than he could create. Pyre looked into his eyes, those cold eyes that held no light. He said, "Something bad will happen to you if you don't locate Fand won't it Jerue?"

Horror registered on Jerue's face and then door seemed to shut over his eyes. Pyre knew Jerue finally understood that he could not help him. The Head Councilman shouted, "Guards!"

The doors swung open and the Guards returned. "Take Pyre Holz to the Special Chamber."

Pyre had never heard of any Special Chamber, but he knew it would be worse than the one he had been inside. Fear like he had never known took hold of him.

The Guards hoisted Pyre into the air and carried him out of the room. They did not leave the way they had come in, instead they exited down a pit of a staircase. It spiraled into thick darkness. A tunnel was at the base of it. A single torch lit the way. Panic surged through Pyre. He struggled to free himself, but the Guards were far too strong. At the end of the tunnel, a panel opened into a small entry way. Another torch blazed in this room. There was a single door. The Guard on Pyre’s left unlocked the door. In the torch light Pyre saw the swollen blood caked face of Uncle Wert. The guards shoved him into the cell and slammed the door.

Pyre crawled to where he had seen Uncle Wert. He reached out in the darkness. Thick fingers wrapped around his. Pyre hugged the old man to him. How good his arms felt. In a hoarse voice, Uncle Wert said, "Petran is with us too. But not for long I fear. Damn, Jerue! Damn him!"