When Renate came for her shift with Fand, Pyre headed for the prison. Resen was most likely being detained there. Fury churned inside of Pyre. He was not a violent person but right now he just wanted to whip that Pathfinder’s ass. Not that he could, but he sure wanted a go at it. When he reached the Prison, he asked where the Pathfinder was being held. The guard on duty jabbed a finger in the direction of the holding room. Pyre made his way to the door. A single guard stood there. It would be so easy for Resen to escape. The only reason he was still captive was because he chose to be. The guard opened the door.

In the room, Loren was inches from Resen’s face. His voice was low as he said, “Because of you, Petran has sunk into a coma again. We don’t know how much longer he has. And Fand is very upset. Do you honestly think you have done good this day?”

Pyre noticed that though there was concern in Resen’s eyes, there was not any remorse.

Loren continued, “Fand could have managed with only one hand. Petran’s life is not worth one hand. But no, your future wife must be whole. A Pathfinder can not have a blemished bride.”

“What?” Pyre asked. No one answered him. Had the marriage been settled? Surely Fand had not agreed to marry this man.

Furious but silent, Resen turned away from Loren. His eyes met Pyre’s. No, there was no remorse in those eyes. In fact there was an odd kind of satisfaction. Pyre was confused. He had honestly thought Resen cared a great deal for Petran.

Loren saw Pyre and said, “Don’t waste your time with this one. It’s pointless.”

With all the courage that Pyre possessed he asked, “Did Fand agree to marry you?”

Resen just smirked.

The impulse to slug the man tingled in Pyre’s fist. In his mind, Loren said, Don’t. Fand can’t have you injured right now. This comment stung. Silently, Pyre agreed. Aloud Loren said, “We won’t waste any more of our time here. Come Pyre.” Pyre followed. Out in the hall, Loren said, “Damn him. He never listens to anyone unless it suits him. No good will come of this. None what so ever. The arrogant fool, does he really think Fand will agree to be his wife after what he did today?”

This was a truth to latch onto. Pyre said, “No.”

Loren smiled at him and said, “Exactly. He made a fatal error in judgment today, I just pray Petran death is not the consequence.” He laid a hand on Pyre’s shoulder and asked, “Could you sit with Petran and pray? I don’t know if he will recover. I also don’t know how much longer he has. Pray for peace, not healing. If Petran survives it will be because he has chosen to.”

This was not good news, but Pyre would do as he was asked. He bowed to Loren and headed for the infirmary. Inside he made his way to Petran’s room. The old man was so pale and his breathing was irregular. Dr. Kran had his hands over Petran’s heart. He glanced over at Pyre and asked, “Have you come to pray?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

Pyre began the first prayer of peace. As he prayed, Dr. Kran gently massaged Petran’s chest and from time to time, he blew air into his mouth. For over an hour they remained at it until finally Dr Kran asked, “Does it look like some of his color is coming back?”

Pyre stood and went to Petran’s bedside. There was a slight tinge of pink in his sallow face. “Yes,” he said, “he looks a bit better.” Petran’s chest was also rising and falling in a more rhythmic motion.

“Thanks for verifying that. I have been staring at him so long I wasn’t sure if my eyes were tricking me. Now if he will only regain consciousness.” He paused then said, “I need you to go sit with Fand. Wert is worried about her. She’s very upset. Please reassure her. Say whatever you must. It will not do her any good to fret over Petran.”

Pyre confessed, “I am not a good liar.”

Dr. Kran smiled at him and said, “With any luck or should I say grace, you will not be lying. Petran is not so easy to get rid of. We must both put some faith in that.”

His words brought a shred of hope to Pyre. “Yes Sir, I will.” He bowed to Dr. Kran and went out into the hall. When he rounded the corner Uncle Wert was standing outside of Dr. Kran’s office.

When he saw Pyre, he asked, “How is Petran?”

“Weak, but still breathing.”

“Blast that Pathfinder! It seems he can do as much good as harm.”

Pyre nodded and asked, “Is Fand going to marry him?”

“She hasn’t said a word to me. My gut says no.”

Pyre prayed Uncle Wert’s gut was right.

Uncle Wert said, “Please sit with Fand. See if you can soothe her. She’s so upset, I’m worried she will lose the strength she has gained.”

“Of course I will sit with her.”

Uncle Wert put a hand on Pyre’s shoulder and said, “Thank you son.”

“You are welcome.”

Uncle Wert told him. “Renate is with her now. Ask Renate to come fetch me when she leaves. I will be in Petran’s room.”

Pyre said, “All right I will see you then.” Uncle Wert headed down the hall and Pyre went into the office. He touched the back wall. The door slid open. Renate was seated on the stool beside the cot. She turned and looked at Pyre. He could tell she was worried. Face down on the bed, crumpled and weeping, lay Fand. Silently, Renate got up from the stool and motioned for him to sit down. He did so. For several long moment he sat helplessly watching Fand. He had no idea of what to do or say. Finally, he lay his hand on her shoulder. At his touch she turned and looked up at him. She pushed herself into a sitting position and wrapped her arms tightly around him. How many times had he held her when she cried? How many more times would he have the opportunity to do so?

She pressed her wet face against his cowl. Her tears stained it a deeper shade of blue. She whispered, “I know about the young Apprentices who were killed in the Inner Sanctum.”

"So you remembered that night?"

Fand looked up at him. "Not all of it. I heard many things as I traveled in and out of consciousness. Some one, I don't know who, said that Guards tried to open the doors to the Inner Sanctum, but they would not open. Everyone was trapped inside. Why?"

Knowing evasion would not work with Fand, he said, “No one knows. It was as if the doors had been sealed shut.”

“Why?”

“I don’ t know."

Huge tears filled Fand's eyes. "Why was I the only one to survive? Why do I keep surviving when others perish?”

Gently Pyre said, "Some think it was because your work is not finished, others think it was a fluke and some think it was a miracle.”

With large fear filled eyes, she whispered, “What do you think?”

“I know I am grateful you are alive. I don’t have to know the reason, I just accept it. Try to do the same.” He stroked her hair and said,"Be grateful you are alive Fand, leave the mystery of it to the Keeper."

She pressed closer against him. In a shaky voice she said, “I don't know if I can.”

His arms tightened around her. He could feel the wild beating of her heart.

She asked, “How is Petran?”

“His color is returning and his breathing is steadier. Dr. Kran and Uncle Wert are with him.”

With a violent thrust Fand pushed away from him and jabbed her left hand into the air. “I will cut off this hand if Petran dies. It is only my left hand, and I am right handed. I could have lived without this!”Pyre took hold of her arm and pulled it down. “And if you do that Petran’s last miracle will have been wasted. He will be better served by your prayers than by your violence or guilt.”

Her eyes met his. Her lashes were crusted with the salt of her tears. She said, “Let us pray then,” and slid off the bed onto her knees.

Pyre knelt down beside her. Fand grabbed his left hand and squeezed it. A strange sensation stole into the room, it was as if they had been joined by another. Pyre peeked through his lashes. Fand’s left hand lay slightly open on the bed. It seemed to be holding an invisible hand. Whose? Zog’s?