The Coven- Interlude

The wind was quiet and the waves were low as Miss Taris approached the shore. She walked slowly, trying not to disturb the gravel under her feet lest she break the rare moment of peace.

In the sparse moonlight, however, it was not long until she lost her footing. She tripped, and though she did not fall, she sent some gravel clattering down toward the dunes. She paused a moment as the sound died away, and then winced, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“You are a liar,” she said aloud, though no one else was present. “I may be forced to listen, but I don’t have to believe you. You are a liar.”

She took a deep breath, raised her head, and continued to walk through the dune path toward the shore. She stopped at the edge where wet sand met dry, and then looked up at the red sliver of moon.

“Wisdom,” she whispered. “Please, hear my prayers. Gain the power to hear the prayers of all who suffer.”

“Pius is transforming into Wisdom as we speak. It is all happening right now- I promise.”

Miss Taris spun around and face Brother Lux, who was walking toward her from the dunes.

“I know it is,” Miss Taris stepped forward to meet Brother Lux. A rare smile graced her face as she looked up at him. “I don’t need faith to tell me so. Every time I pray to him, I feel his peace. And now that you’ve arrived, I can see with my own eyes what he’s done for you. You have already become his angel- I can tell. You are resplendent.”

She moved with arms outstretched as though to embrace Brother Lux, but then she stopped and snatched her arms back.

“No- I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I might as well try to touch a flame.”

“My body has been changed, but it is still flesh,” he said. He reached out and placed his hand on her head, as though to soothe a small child.

Miss Taris frowned a little, but she did not object.

“My magic, however, has grown dangerous,” Brother Lux continued, and he let his hand fall to his side. “I feel as though I could move the sea itself, but I’m afraid it would cause a tidal wave that would destroy all of del Sol. I need to learn control .”

“Wisdom will help you,” Miss Taris said.

“Yes, he will. We must help him, as well.” Brother Lux removed his shoes, and tossed them aside, letting his bare feet sink into the sand. Then he stepped around Miss Taris and walked to the sea, wading until the waves came almost to his knees.

“Stop!” Miss Taris called. “You will freeze.”

But Brother Lux laughed in response, throwing his loose hair back behind his shoulders.

“I feel the cold, but it’s nothing like before,” he said. “There’s no pain- just a pleasant shiver of sensation. It cannot hurt me at all.”

Miss Taris stared at Brother Lux in silence for a moment, and then pulled her own cloak tighter around her shoulders.

Brother Lux waded back to shore until the waves barely licked his feet and looked earnestly at Miss Taris.

“How have you been faring? Have you found any relief, or at least the strength to bear your curse?”

“When I am near Lady Frey, I stop hearing the voices,” Miss Taris said. “If I stay with her long enough, even my headache fades. At night, however, I am alone, and the voices keep me awake.”

Brother Lux frowned. “Do you still hear the same voices?”

Miss Taris sighed and wiped her hand across her brow. “Yes-always the same voices, saying the same words. I hear my father telling me that I’m worthless. I hear Sir Montag telling me I am ugly. I hear Lady Fairfax telling me I am foolish. I talk back to them- I tell them that they are liars, and that I know my own worth, but they just laugh.

“I am more determined than ever to prove them wrong, but they do make my head ache terribly.”

Brother Lux went to her and, without hesitation, placed his hand on her head once more. This time she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Thank you, Brother Lux. You are a much greater relief than Lady Frey.”

“I am sorry,” Brother Lux whispered, “but you must endure your curse a little longer. As soon as Wisdom has ascended, he will make you perfect, like he has made me. You will be rewarded for your faith.”

“I told you before- I don’t need faith.” Miss Taris pulled away. “And you must not blame yourself for my pain. Before you and Wisdom gave me power, I had to endure the true voices of those who hated me. My curse is only an echo of that, and it will pass.”

“Even so, I am growing impatient for the time when we can end all of this pain,” Brother Lux said. His shoulders sagged as he spoke, as though weighed down by an invisible burden. Then he straightened them again, standing taller than before. “Is there nothing else that can be done to make things easier for you? Can’t you be quartered nearer Lady Frey, so that you can sleep?”

“I’ve already moved into closer quarters, actually,” Miss Taris said. “I haven’t slept near her yet, so I’m not sure if it will work. Lady Frey spent three days at the southern shrine with Abbess Joy, and last night she went- well, I’m not sure where she went. She often disappears with Abbess Joy or Sister Jubilee.”

Brother Lux nodded and turned to pace around Miss Taris, his hands clasped behind his back.

“I am not surprised that they are conspiring. Still, I would like to know exactly where they go. I know you are tired, but-”

“I will try to find out,” Miss Taris said, turning to watch Brother Lux as he paced around her. “One thing puzzles me. Abbess Joy said that they were visiting Lady Frey’s mother at the south dunes, but I was under the impression that it was a pauper’s cemetery, full of criminals and slaves.”

Brother Lux paused in his pacing. “Everyone is given equal treatment at del Sol, even the dead. Anyone may be buried at the south dunes, no matter their station. Lady Frey’s mother is not out of place, there; you needn’t inquire into that matter.”

“I didn’t mean to be insensitive,” Miss Taris muttered, looking down as though she’d been chastised. Then she looked up again.

“Oh! I’d meant to tell you something else- Miss Mercy is teaching us all to fight, just as she and Lady Frey fought the bandits.”

“I’m surprised that Abbess Joy hasn’t stopped her,” Brother Lux said. “The only law at del Sol is that no one must harm a fellow pilgrim.”

“Abbess Joy said that Miss Mercy must be careful that we aren’t harmed, but everyone is worried about the bandits. I decided to learn alongside the others. I want to be strong in both mind and body.” She stopped and looked at Brother Lux in alarm. “Was I wrong to do so?”

Brother Lux smiled and shook his head. “Oh no- learn whatever you can. Gain strength and continue to spread Wisdom’s word while you are at del Sol. You’ve done very well, Miss Taris. Thank you.”

Miss Taris smiled at Brother Lux, her eyes shining with happiness.

Brother Lux made the sign of Wisdom over Miss Tari’s head, and then he turned back to the abbey and beckoned for Miss Taris to follow. Miss Taris picked up his discarded boots, brushed the sand from them, and then ran to catch up.

The Coven, Part LIX


The Coven, Part LVIII

It was difficult to avoid staring at Brother Lux while I dined.

He still possessed the unmistakable Frey features- the high cheekbones, high forehead, fine nose and round eyes, but he had somehow altered. The more I looked, the more puzzled I grew as to where the change lie. His eyes were a little darker than usual- I had always thought his eyes and hair were a lighter shade of brown than Hope’s- but it might have been an effect of the refectory dim firelight. His face did seem less soft, less youthful, but it was by no means aged. He glowed with vitality; I had never seen him look so handsome, nor seem so merry.

He brazenly ignored the sisters’ custom of eating in silence, and took every opportunity he could to engage Abbess Joy in conversation. Abbess Joy indulged his mood, answering his questions and even occasionally laughing at his jokes.

“I’m afraid I’m disturbing your respite,” Lux said in a solemn voice, though his eyes sparkled with suppressed amusement. “I had forgotten how good this place is for the soul. I’ve come here thrice before- twice in my troubled youth, and once in haste to bring Lady Frey- and each time I’ve found the peace that I sought. Your sanctuary is a boon to mankind, Abbess.”

“Thank you, Brother. I’m glad I can assist those who are able to journey to this sanctuary, but I’ve often wished I could do more for the wider world.”

“Perhaps, in time, you will,” Brother Lux said. “My cup overflows with optimism, and I can afford to share it with you.”

“It’s good you are in a generous mood,” I said, unable to hold my tongue any longer. “Some of us must rely on you for our optimism.”

Brother Lux turned and fixed me with his dark gaze. “In times such as these, it’s vital that you don’t give up hope.”

“Hope is all I have,” I replied.

Brother Lux turned back to Abbess Joy.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Brother Lux said to Abbess Joy. Then he turned back to me. “Lady Frey, if you would please join me…”

He stood and I rose to follow.

We walked to the Calefactory through the icy wind, which filtered through the cloisters and across the courtyard. When we entered the Calefactory, Sister Jubilee was already there, tending the hearth.

“Ah- Grace, there you are,” she said without looking up. “If you will fill the kettle, I will bring our books closer to the fire. It’s going to be a cold night.”

“The night will be cold, but tomorrow, I expect the sun will melt away all of the ice,” Brother Lux said.

Prudence paused in her work, and then began again as though she hadn’t heard him. I followed her lead, fetching the kettle and tea tin without a word.

Surely, he recognized her voice, I thought. Did he hear it the last time he was here? Will he allow her to remain safe here, or was he really not the one who rescued her before?

“You mentioned that you had letters for me,” I prompted Brother Lux as I worked. “Was there anything else you needed to discuss?”

“I’m sorry- I didn’t realize you had private business,” Prudence said. She stood and brushed off her robes. “I shall retire early.”

“Are you sure you wish to leave, Sister?” Brother Lux said. “You must be curious what I have to say to Lady Frey, and there is a matter I wish to discuss with you, as well.”

I froze.

“What business do you have with me?” she asked in a low voice.

Lux turned toward the door and raised his hand in the same gesture he had once used to cast a spell of silence on Abbess Joy’s office, though this time he did not say anything. Then he turned back to Prudence.

“There’s no reason for us to play games,” Lux replied. “We’re too old for that now, Prudence.”

This is a trick, I screamed in my thoughts as though I could make her hear me. Don’t reveal anything.

But Prudence sighed and pulled back her veil. “Funny- the older I get, the more games I’m drawn into.”

I dropped into the nearest chair.

Lux turned toward me, his eyebrows raised.

“You aren’t surprised, are you? I’d imagined that the two of you would be plotting together from the first day you met.”

Prudence came to sit beside me, and looked into my face with an anxious expression.

“Did you intend for us to find each other, Lux?” she asked after a few moments.

Brother Lux sat across from us and gazed at us with appraising eyes.

“Of course I did. There is little room for error,” he said. “I worried that Lady Frey’s part would prove too difficult for her to bear on her own. If you had acted as expected, Prudence, then Lady Frey would not look so fatigued.”

“I will spend all of the energy I can to free my husband, help or no,” I said. “Prudence isn’t responsible for my condition.”

Lux stood again, as though restless, and paced around the room while Prudence and I watched in silence. Then he came back and examined me more closely.

“You are fatigued, but you aren’t unwell. Your color is good, and you haven’t lost any weight. What’s more-” he paused and stood straighter, pulling a bundle of letters from his robes, “the letters I carry tell me a great deal about how you’ve spent your time in exile.”

He untied the bundle and placed one of the letters on the bare table that stood beside my chair.

“This is a note from your husband’s attorney, who has been making a proper nuisance of himself. He’s already examined the blood oath, and he interviewed the accuser without my consent. Now he is demanding the right to interview the accused.”

Lux smiled as though in approval, and placed a second letter next to the first. “This letter is from your solicitor. He attempted to send this letter to you in secret, but I easily intercepted it. Tell him to be more careful in the future. Thankfully, there’s nothing of any real import in this note. He conveys the gratitude of some of your husband’s tenants for your assistance, and he also makes some investment recommendations, though he advises caution. I believe he fears Abbess Joy’s displeasure should your assets not be well guarded.”

I winced. I’d hoped to keep my money a secret from the inquisition for as long as possible. “I shall ask him to be more careful. I certainly hope he didn’t include my account information in the letter, as well.”

Lux laughed- a fuller laugh than the barking laughter I’d last heard from him. “Don’t worry- you aren’t a suspect, so the inquisition will not touch your assets as long as you use them well. I knew you would inquire after the estate, but I didn’t expect you to provide so much material help to the tenants. Thank you.”

I opened my mouth to rebuke him for his lack of action, but paused. He looked down, letting his hair fall over his face, but I could still see a patch of skin on his cheek grow pink in the firelight. When he looked up again, he wore a look of shame in his eyes.

Prudence stood and went to him. “Why? Why did you let it come to this?”

Lux gave Prudence a sad, half-smile. “I might ask you the same thing.”

I stood, ready to defend my friend, but Prudence looked back at me and shook her head. Lux watched our silent exchange, but did not remark on it. Instead, he took a folded note and placed it next to the first two letters.

“I hope this helps you feel the good you’ve already done. It may fortify you for what’s to come.”

“What is to come?” I asked. “What is happening, now? Can you tell me how Hope is- how Captain Goode, Chastity, and Lady and Lord Willoughby are? Have you brought me the one letter I long to read?”

Brother Lux gently pressed me back into my seat.

“Please save your strength; you are fatigued. I really should insist you go to bed now, but your anxiety will be worse if I leave you unsatisfied. Before I give you Hope’s letter, I must warn you- he has entered the second degree of questioning.”

“The second degree?” I looked to Prudence, whose face had gone white as Brother Lux spoke.

Prudence sat beside me again, and reached out to take my hand- her own hand was trembling.

“The first degree of questioning is bad enough,” she said in a slow, careful voice. “They strip and examine your whole body, prod you with needles to provoke a magical reaction, and keep you up all hours, asking the same questions over and over. If you prove too ‘stubborn’ to confess under those conditions, the inquisitors start the true torture- that’s the second degree.”

“The prisoners are alive and as yet unmaimed,” Brother Lux said. “The mental effects of the abuse, however-”

Prudence glared up at Brother Lux with such ferocity that he stepped back.

“You cannot allow this to continue,” she said. “Your own brother, my brother, our friends-”

“I thought of you as my sister before your betrayal,” Lux replied with an edge of steel in his voice. “The laws of magic are stronger than the ties of friendship or blood. Even so, you have my word that they won’t die.”

Prudence laughed a hollow, mirthless laugh. “The worst part is that you really believe what you’re saying. As long as nothing unforeseen occurs, our friends might survive torture and emerge from their trial unscathed. This is enough to ease your conscience.”

“I won’t disabuse you of your anger- you will need it. Forget that you’re alive now because I willed it, and fight as hard as you can to save Hope. That is all I require.”

Lux turned away from Prudence and handed the last letters to me.

“There is real anguish and despair in his letter,” Lux said in a gentler voice. “Do not become infected by it. Give him hope for the future in your reply. I will remain at the abbey for three days, so you have time to compose your letter carefully.”

I looked at Prudence’s ashen face, and back to Lux.

“How can my words possibly be enough?”

“Your words can’t free him, nor can they take his pain away,” Lux said. “All I ask is that you remind him of the light in the world, and of everything he has to gain.”




That night I fell asleep during my third reading of Hope’s letter, as the tears dried on my cheeks.

I had asked Prudence to read the letter with me, but she’d refused. I knew she understood why I’d asked her, and in the same way, I understood why she’d refused.

She had spoken to me before she left me alone with the letter. The truth she offered me gave no comfort- rather, it was as though she’d lit the lantern for me to read by its light.

“I can guess what comes to your mind when you imagine torture,” she said, sitting beside me on my cot. “I can assure you that the torture machines that you read about are never used. The inquisition has built a few, but their only use is to be carted about and exhibited at festivals. The real methods of torture the inquisition implements are far more mundane, and probably far more effective.

“During the second degree, the inquisitors would dunk my head in freezing water until I thought I would drown, or hold me over hot coals until I thought I would burn. They would beat and whip me, all the while taunting me to call upon my demon to make the torment stop. It was unbearable, but I was never tempted; I knew that magic would bring me no relief.”

“But if the others don’t feel the same aversion to magic-”

Prudence sighed. “They are stronger than I was. Hope has literally seen hell, so whatever they present him with can’t compare. My brother was always strong, even before he was trained as a soldier, and Chastity possesses a quiet strength that enables her to endure constant pain. My greatest fear is that Lady and Lord Willoughby will betray themselves. They have lived a decadent life, and are unaccustomed to physical endurance.”

A sudden thought came to me, and I stood to pace the room and shake off my fatigue.


“I don’t think that Hope literally sees hell when he sleeps,” I said.

A frown tugged at the corners of Prudence’s lips. “You must have witnessed his torment- you cannot deny such anguish.”

I stopped pacing. “I don’t mean to diminish his pain. I have seen it, and I would give anything to be able to go to him now and take it away. He described his dreams to me in great detail, once, and among those agonies he said that he saw you, beside his parents, suffering hell’s torment.”

“But I’m still alive.”

“Exactly.” I sat beside Prudence once more. “This means that he cannot really be seeing hell.”

“Then what does he see?” Prudence stood now, and paced the tiny room as I had a moment before. Then she stopped abruptly, opened the door, and looked into the hallway.

“No one is near, and Miss Taris’s room is still empty.” Prudence closed the door and sighed. “We are growing careless- this conversation is better suited to the tower.”

“I cannot go, tonight,” I said. I handed her Hope’s letter to Celeste. “Are you certain you won’t stay to read Hope’s letter with me?”

“He addressed it to you,” Prudence said softly. “I will read this letter to ensure there’s nothing that may alarm Celeste. I know he would never do so on purpose, but in his current state…”

“I understand. Thank you, Prudence.”

“Don’t thank me. Lux was right, you know- I should have been helping you from the beginning, instead of allowing that wall of mistrust to exist between us. From now on, I will give you everything I can to help Hope.”

“There’s no need to apologize. You’ve put Celeste’s safety first in your thoughts and actions, which is exactly what Hope would wish. I’m grateful that you are able to give her what I cannot.”

Prudence smiled a little, and the slipped her veil back over her face.

“If you need me, remember that I am just on the other side of Celeste’s door.”

The Coven- Interlude


Adventures in Amateur Astronomy, Pt II


I have been interested in astronomy since I was a child. I spent late nights sitting up with my Dad, watching Carl Sagan’s Cosmos,  and we attended star parties and meetings of our local Amateur Astronomy Association together. Most of all, I’ve read nonfiction and scifi books that have encouraged my love of astronomy.

But the years went on, and as I grew I became distracted by my myriad other interests. Dance, music, photography, writing, and so many other wonders in this world have all held my interest, and I struggle to focus on just one topic. How can one lifetime be enough given everything this universe has to offer?

A few years ago, while sitting in a dark parking lot, I gazed up into the night sky and was drawn in, once more, by the infinite span of possibilities above me. After so many years, I was bitten by the stargazing bug again.

At first I was content to gaze with the naked eye, re-acquainting myself with the constellations with the help of the skymap app on my phone. Then I remembered that I owned a pair of cheap binoculars, which I used to take a shaky, blurry look at the moon and planets. Then I decided enough was enough, and gave into the temptation to buy a telescope.

In Part I of Adventures in Amateur Astronomy, I introduced several reasons why I should not get a telescope. I have no safe place where I can reliably stargaze, and I have no place to store my telescope when it isn’t in use. Still, I decided to get my telescope anyway, and after the initial ordeal of getting it set up, I was ready to go. So- given the limitations I’ve already named, how is my stargazing going?

My stargazing is going brilliantly, even though I’m struggling with even more limitations than those I’ve listed.

First of all, I still don’t have a place to store my telescope. It’s in the dining area of my house right now, next to the dining room table that was cleared out to use for eating and displaying my tea set. The table has been taken over again by a lot of *stuff,* including all of the eyepieces I’ve acquired for my telescope. My telescope, however, takes precedence over the dining room, especially since my spouse and I very rarely eat there, anyway.

Secondly, I still don’t have a safe place I can use for viewing. I live in a townhouse, where there is no backyard- just a garage that leads directly into the alley. There is a small front yard, but it’s on a busy street across from a well-lit shopping center. I have a good view of the sky from the alley, however, so most often I set up my scope across the alley on a patch of pavement protected by a transformer. I keep watch for cars and trucks that sometimes travel through the alley at night, and I wear a red light-up armband for safety. I also have to remain very still and quiet so I don’t activate my next door neighbor’s bright security lights.

I must admit that I tend to get a little nervous standing by myself in a dark alley. I’m not afraid of human attackers so much as nameless horrors that lurk in the night. I have, on occasion, gone inside because of this.

The first object I viewed with my telescope was Saturn, and I was blown away by how sharp the rings looked. I had to collimate the telescope because of some smearing in the image, but the process wasn’t as painful as I’d anticipated. The only problem I’ve had was with the finder scope, which I hate. It is a laser finder that is still not fully aligned despite a long effort. To make things worse, there is a small reflection in it which can trick me unless I’m very careful.

I wish I could show you what I see when I gaze through my telescope. I have an old CCD camera, but not one I can get set up at this time, so this is the best I can do.

The Moonawesome

I took this photo by carefully holding up my phone to the eyepiece. For contrast, here is a picture taken with the same phone of the same moon without the use of my telescope.


And here’s the best image I have been able to take with a proper camera sans telescope. This was taken of Fthe umbral emergence during the 2015 lunar eclipse.


Keep in mind that the first image is just a poor replication of what I actually saw. The cell phone camera flattens everything out. The contrast is very poor, and you can’t see the shadows and the overall shape that pops out at you when you look directly through the eyepiece.

Still, these images should illustrate how my prospects have expanded. I can go outside on any clear night, now, and see the rings of Saturn, the phases of Venus, the Galilean satellites, globular clusters, nebulae, double stars, and galaxies. The universe is mine to explore more deeply than I have in years.

My telescope has been worth all of the trouble and more.



The Coven, Part LVII

“There is one more thing I must tell you before we join the others,” I whispered.

Prudence paused and turned toward me. She had veiled her face before we left the tower, becoming Sister Jubilee once more, yet I imagined I could see the soft outline of her face in the shadows beneath the veil.

“Please, let it be something simple,”  she sighed. “I don’t think my credulity can be stretched much farther, after the claims you’ve just made about Father Pius.”

Before Prudence and I left the tower, I told her everything I’d learned about Father Pius from the girl in the magic mirror. Prudence had remained silent through my rushed and nervous tale, but while she did not say she believed it, she also did not say she disbelieved.

“It isn’t anything strange,” I assured her. “I only wanted to warn you about Miss Taris. As you’ve probably guessed, she reports to Father Pius.”

“Yes- Miss Taris hasn’t hidden the fact very well,” Prudence said. “She almost seems to take pride in her treachery, despite your overtures of kindness.”

“I feel a great deal of sympathy for Miss Taris,” I admitted. “She has been ill-treated, and as a result she does not trust easily. I have never gained her trust, despite all of my efforts.”

“And yet you still try?”

“Of course. Father Pius swayed her with promises of power, and yet she is weaker than ever. If I can help her, I will.”

Prudence fell silent as we approached the abbey. A large group of sisters were already gathered in the courtyard. They stood in neat rows and performed a series of preliminary stretches. Miss Taris stood behind the last row under a  shady tree, as though she feared being seen.

Lady Frey,” Mercy strode past her other students to meet me. “Where have you been? The bells are about to ring.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but Mercy cut me off. “No- nothing could excuse you for this. You are late for the first day of the very lessons you suggested. Run three circuits around the calefactory, and then you may join us.”

Mercy turned toward Prudence, who backed away.

“I don’t plan to partake. If you will excuse me, I will attend to Celeste.”

Prudence walked toward the dormitories, and I completed my circuits. When I returned the sisters were moving through a simple form.

“Help the sisters on the back row,” Mercy ordered curtly as I slowed my pace. “I have my hands full with the front. Also- meet me here at sunset for further training- you shouldn’t be winded from such a short run.”

I followed Mercy’s instructions, and I could see several sisters in the back row who were struggling. Sister Meek was having difficulty distinguishing her right front stance from her left, and I had to demonstrate several times before she understood. Then I came to Innocence, who was only half-heartedly performing the form.

I would have guessed that Innocence could easily learn such a simple form, because she was a very accomplished dancer, but she was moving as though she were fatigued. She performed the front strike stance, dropped it, sighed, and then tried again, gesturing weakly with her right hand. Her hands were loose, instead of being held in fists.

“This is undignified,” she groaned. “This is not how a lady stands.”

Before I could object, Purity spoke. “I thought you’d already accepted the loss of your title.”

Innocence dropped her stance altogether and spun to face Purity. “How could you?”

“Lady Innocence,” I said gently, stepping between them before a quarrel could erupt. “No one will force you to learn this. You may choose to return to the calefactory, or you may choose to stay and learn to defend yourself.”

Innocence leaned over me to regard Purity, who smiled at her. “Lady Frey is right- I can’t force you to stay. But if you choose to stay, you may gain a different sort of dignity- the ability to take back what you’ve lost.”

Innocence sighed deeply, but took up a fighting stance again. “It feels awkward.”

“Think of this as a dance, and you will soon grow accustomed,” I said.

Innocence tried again, and I moved behind the last row, to the shady tree where the final student worked.

Miss Taris’s long, slender limbs shook a little, like dried twigs in a winter wind, but she held her stance. She missed the front strike, but before I could correct her, she went back and performed it again properly.

“Well done, Miss Taris” I said.

“Miss Mercy said these were beginner’s exercises, but I’m still struggling,” Miss Taris said. “I don’t feel any stronger.”

“It will take time for you to build strength,” I said. “If you need to rest-”

“No,” Miss Taris interrupted. “I will not rest until the church bells ring.”

Miss Taris moved through the form again, more quickly than before. A flash of silver caught my eye as she moved, and at first I thought she wore the symbol of Order around her neck. When she stilled, I examined the necklace more closely

The symbol of Order consists of three interlaced circles, but Miss Taris’s pendant consisted of a single circle, within which were two lines that met at the bottom like the letter V.

“What a pretty pendant,” I remarked. “I can’t recall ever seeing this symbol before.”

“No- you wouldn’t have,” Miss Taris said, tucking the pendant into her robes.

Before I could question Miss Taris further, the morning bells rang. Miss Taris wiped her brow, and then ran to follow the other sisters to the cathedral.




Prudence, Celeste and I went to the calefactory after the bells rang for prayer. We were greeted by the welcoming sight of a large fire crackling merrily in the hearth, and Prudence and I had sat in front of it for a few moments in silence. Then we set to work, combing the library for any books that might help substantiate the claims I’d made about Pius’s dark origin, or for any hints for how a powerful demon might be defeated.

While we worked, Celeste remained by the fireplace absorbed in a large book until she suddenly cried out in dismay.

“Oh no!”

“What’s wrong?” Prudence asked, descending one of the ladders with a stack of books under her arm.

“The red moon causes the tides,” Celeste said. She stood and tossed the book she’d been reading onto the table with a thunk.

“Well, yes,” I said. “Though the sun’s position with relation to the moon can also-”

“It isn’t fair!” Celeste said. “I would have thought of it- I know I would.”

“Celeste, that was very rude,” Prudence chided as she placed her own books on the table next to Celeste’s. “Apologize to Lady Grace for interrupting and for raising your voice.”

Celeste turned to me and murmured an apology before turning back to Prudence. “Why didn’t you tell me about the red moon when I asked you to help me with my experiment?”

“You wished to discover the answer on your own, didn’t you?”

“Well, yes. I thought I was close, too.” Celeste looked up at me. “I wanted to surprise you, but that’s all spoilt.”

“May I see your work, now?” I asked.

Celeste nodded and stood. She took a little book from under a stack of papers and handed it to me. It was clear that Celeste had made the book herself by folding some spare bits of paper and stitching them together at the fold. On the cover she had written, The Research of Miss Celeste Goode- DO NOT READ, and inside she had made a table full of dates and times written in rows that were neat near the top, and less neatly aligned at the bottom. I turned the page and could see the beginning of a new table, which contained only a few days and which had the addition of a row of little flags.

“The sea was always moving,” Celeste said. “It would wash away driftwood and swallow the little pools where the sea-stars live. Then it would go away again. Sister Penance told me that it was the tides, but she didn’t know what caused it.”

“So,” Prudence added with a tone of pride, “Celeste decided that she would discover what caused the tides.”

“I thought that I’d figured it out when Sister Jubilee told me weather was a type of science,” Celeste said. “I made a little flag and planted it on top of a dune to measure the wind. I thought a stronger wind would make the tide come in. But, as you see, my first few days of watching the flag and the tides didn’t match up. Now I know that I had it all wrong, and someone else already figured it out!”

“Don’t let this discourage you,” I said gently, sitting at the desk beside Celeste. “I recently made a discovery myself, only to find out someone else had already made it.”

“Really?” Celeste asked. Her eyes went wide behind her glasses. “Didn’t you feel awful?”

“I did, at first,”I admitted. “Now I understand that I can still contribute- to add more to the discovery. I read the original work, and it isn’t quite complete.”

“Science is never complete,” Prudence added. “We all work to build on and refine each other’s work.”

“That’s easy to say when you are a grownup,” Celeste sighed. “You know enough to do important things. But I’m still learning-how can add to a grownup’s work?”

Prudence took the little book from me and handed it back to Celeste. “Finish your experiment.”

“What’s the point?” Celeste asked.

“If your experiment turns out the same, then you’ve helped to verify a very important discovery, and if you find something new, then you can build on an important discovery. Never underestimate the importance of replication,” Prudence said stoutly. “Anyone can look at the world and report what they see.”

“So- this is important after all?” Celeste asked.

“Extremely important,” Prudence said. She took Celeste into her arms. “I’m so proud of my girl.”

Celeste leaned into the embrace with a happy sigh, and then quickly pushed her away.

“Why- thank you, Sister Jubilee,” she said with a tight grin.

I tried, and failed, to stifle a laugh.

“What?” Celeste demanded.

“Mercy may not teach you to fight, but perhaps she will give you acting lessons,” I said.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Celeste said with a sniff.

“It’s alright, Celeste,” Prudence said. “Lady Grace knows our secret.”

Celeste gasped, and then jumped up to put her arms around me. “Oh! Truly? Did Mother tell you?”

“Lady Grace figured it out on her own,” Prudence said.

“I told you she would,” Celeste said. She turned back to me. “But I’m so glad you know. I’m so glad I don’t have to pretend, anymore.”

“You must still pretend, I’m afraid, before the others,” Prudence said.

“I know,” Celeste slipped her arms from around my neck and sat back down with her book. “All of the grownups I know are full of secrets, so I suppose if I’m to grow up, I need to have secrets, too. They do become very tiresome, though. Science should be about the truth.”




Celeste’s words echoed in my ears as Prudence and I worked through the morning, and they continued to echo as Prudence took Celeste by the hand to take her to the cathedral. I ruminated on Celeste’s words as I worked silently beside sister Love in the greenhouse, and I barely noticed that Miss Taris had come forward to work, and was re-potting seedlings beside me. Sister Love was too absorbed in her own work to give complaint or instruction, and in the silent, sunlit warmth, I grew drowsy.

How can I hope to  win if I continue to retreat into the shadows? I wondered. When will the light of truth prevail?

My eyelids drooped a little, and the basket of herbs I’d been picking slipped onto the counter. Just then, the greenhouse door swung open, admitting a sharp wind that brought me to my senses.

“Good Afternoon, Sister Love,” Prudence said, shutting the door behind her. “I’ve come to borrow Lady Frey, if you don’t mind.”

“Feel free,” Sister Love grunted as she hauled a large sack of manure from a stack in the corner.

Miss Taris took off her gloves and stood to follow.

“Abbess Joy wishes to speak with Lady Frey alone.” Prudence turned her veiled face sharply toward Miss Taris. “We won’t be long.”

“One moment-” Sister Love wiped her soiled hands on her pinafore and handed me the basket of herbs I’d dropped. “Take these herbs with you- the Abbess needs them for the infirmary.”

“Of course,” I said.

Miss Taris stared after us, but did not move to follow. I smiled at her, and then we retreated.

“You’re right- Miss Taris doesn’t trust you,” Prudence said. “She doesn’t even seem to like you, much. Why is she with you constantly? Does she really think that Father Pius needs her to spy on your gardening activities?”

“She never follows me when I do anything interesting,” I agreed. “She is always too tired to follow me at night.”

“This might be why she asked to room closer to you,” Prudence said. “You may need to find more creative ways to slip away to the tower.”




Prudence and I did not meet many pilgrims on our way to the infirmary, and inside there were no patients. Abbess Joy sat alone at her desk, winding bandages while she read a book that was propped open in front of her. She looked up as we entered.

“Good afternoon,” she said with a welcoming smile. “To what do I owe this visit?”

“I- I thought you wanted to see me,” I said.

“That was for Miss Taris’s benefit,” Prudence said. “I’m sorry.”

Prudence pulled back her veil and knelt by one of the cots, rummaging through a box of supplies that was stowed underneath.

“Sister-” Abbess Joy began.

“You may go ahead and call me Prudence. Lady Frey and I had a very long talk, last night.”

Abbess Joy’s smile faded, and she let the bandages slip from her hands. “I see,” she said with a heavy sigh.

“Do call me Grace,” I said. “Both of you. I am completely unaware of the usual niceties that surround forming an intimacy, but we must be far beyond all of that, now.”

“Certainly, Grace,” Prudence said. “Have a seat on this cot, if you please, and roll up both of your sleeves.”

Prudence produced a smaller box, from which she drew a needle, a scalpel, and several wooden sticks.

“Do you need any assistance?” Abbess Joy asked.

“I will need several flasks- clean ones,” Prudence responded.

Abbess Joy bit her lip and looked at me for a few moments as I sat on the cot, and then back at Prudence, who was laying her supplies out on a tray. Then Abbess Joy went to her desk and took out the requested flasks.

“Prudence, if I am to be your subject, then I will need to know everything you are testing.”

“Usually, I would say that is poor practice,” Prudence said. “It should be fine today, though. I just want to see if there are any physiological differences between you and a full-blood human. I’ll be testing everything- temperature, heart rate, reflexes, and I will test your blood and a cheek swab-”

“Prudence knows your secrets as well?” Abbess Joy said, clinking the flasks together as she placed them on the tray.

“There are no secrets left between us,” I said.

“Yes- as I said. We had a very long talk, last night,” Prudence said. She produced a small notebook from her robes and began to write notes. “We are united in our purpose.”

Abbess Joy sat down again, and placed her head in her hands.

I sat and struggled to keep both of the long, wide sleeves on my robe rolled up. Prudence laughed a little as she watched, and then took some pins from her pocket and helped me pin them in place.

“One moment you are brilliant, and the next you are more of a child than Celeste,” Prudence clucked as she worked.  

“Prudence,” I said hesitantly.

“Yes?” she said, putting in the last pin.

“I trust you, but the information you find- it won’t just be about me. We might discover secrets about my people- about the Ancients. Please remember that they are enslaved and vulnerable, and if the information is dangerous…”

“I’ve considered this,” Prudence said, sitting back on her heels. She regarded me for her moment, her blue eyes wide with sincerity. “I won’t use or reveal any of the information I find without consulting you, first.  Is that acceptable to you?”

“Yes, thank you. Also, might I have a copy of your findings?”

Prudence nodded. “Done. You have my word.

“Girls-” Abbess Joy said softly, and I looked up to see her staring down at us with an expression of bewilderment.

“Yes?” Prudence said.

“Are you both- are you both alright? Is there anything you need?”

I smiled. “I can’t speak for Prudence, but I am well.”

“I’m relieved that everything is out in the open,” Prudence said. “We can plan together, now. I think that, despite all of our fear, this is exactly what we needed.”

Abbess Joy smiled a little at our reassurances, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes.




It didn’t take long for Prudence to gather her samples, and after a brief physical examination, Prudence and I parted.

She was in a less boisterous mood than usual. She wrapped herself in her veil and muttered a little to herself as she walked.

“I will have to check the samples, next. They don’t seem unusual on the surface, just like the examination, but the microscope may yield more information.”

“Are you disappointed that my examination results were normal?” I asked.

“Not disappointed, just puzzled. I must examine the facts as they are, not imagine fantastic results. I’m glad that you appear to be healthy, at least.”

Prudence went toward the refectory to help prepare dinner, and I went to the training field, where Mercy waited to put me through my paces. Mercy and I drilled and then sparred until the sun sank below the horizon, and the sky faded from brilliant scarlet to black. Then Mercy finally allowed me to stop, and we went to the refectory together.

Familiar scents and sounds greeted me at the refectory door. There was first the rich aroma of stewed vegetables and fresh fish, and beneath it the warm scent of plum wine. I could hear the scraping of wooden spoons and bowls, and the clatter of clay cups as the sisters ate and drank. Prudence, as usual, was absent, but there was a new guest seated at the table.

It took me several moments to recognize the newcomer. “Brother Lux?”

The man, who did greatly resemble Brother Lux, looked up, and then smiled as he stood to greet me.

“Well met, Lady Frey,” he said. “I was hoping to see you, tonight. I have several letters which may interest you.”


My Inadequate Epistemological Mess

I’ve been reading Eliezer Yudkowsky’s new book, Inadequate Equilibria, on LesserWrong as it’s been released, chapter by chapter. I have too many thoughts to politely fit into a comments section, so I will mull them over here. I urge you to read the original work before you continue. 

Yudkowsky’s reasoning cuts like a knife, presenting a compelling argument for why many systems fail to fulfil their stated purpose, and why it isn’t hubris for you or I to question the products of those systems or their experts. He introduces a concept of “modest epistemology,” in which intelligent people fail to grasp at low-hanging fruit because surely, if it were so easy someone already would have.

This work has had a profound impact on me personally. Line by line, the work severed mental ties that have bound me my whole life.

I’ve been juggling the arguments for and against this type of modesty for a long time, and I realized yesterday that this has been reflected in my work. Take, for example, the following two segments from my web serial/book series The Coven. In these sections, two different characters discuss the main character, Grace, who created a heliocentric model of the solar system and was subsequently reprimanded by a church authority.


The first scene occurs when Grace attempts to join a secret society of scientists:


“I believe I’ve worked out your character, Lady. You discovered an interesting puzzle and happily solved it, like any intelligent child would. Then, like a child, you ran off to tell someone, expecting praise. When you informed a learned cleric about your discovery, and he told you it was an error, you assumed he was right and you were wrong- even though you’d seen the evidence with your own eyes. Am I correct?”


I could feel my face burn with shame. “Yes, you are correct.”

Sir Silas continued. “You’re  not kind to your inferiors because you value them as equals, but because you don’t have the confidence to acknowledge your own worth. You may be sweet, and you may possess a unique genius, but you lack the strength to fight the forces of oppression.”

The next scene takes place during a later conversation about the same event:


“… In your presentation, you made it clear that you built your theory, and then tested your theory against Sir Boromir’s observations to see if everything fit your model . You made some mistakes along the way, but you arrived at the correct conclusion. If I’d judged you on your work alone, you would be a member of the guild today.”


“Then why-”

Sister Jubilee held up her hand. “Please allow me to continue. Sir Silas objected to your initiation because he felt you lacked courage, but my reason was quite the opposite. You are naturally timid, but I believe the caution this afforded you was the reason you were so methodical in your approach to science. Unfortunately, your timidity also denied you the chance to learn what the bold learn early in life- the necessity of resisting strong impulses.

Both Sir Silas and Sister Jubilee were correct in their own way. You must have humility to test alternatives to your own hypotheses and to learn from the work others have done- it’s a way to correct innate biases. Unfortunately, if you aren’t willing to question established authority, then you can never hope to do any better.

Discovering when it is appropriate to question established authority has always been a delicate matter. Yudkowsky presents a way to discern where inefficiencies in established systems exist, so we can do just that.




When I was in Junior High, I was  anti-empiricism. I was very fond of the ancient Greek philosophers, having recently discovered Plato, and I believed that anyone could arrive at the correct answer to any question if they used the correct system of reasoning. If someone ever arrived at an incorrect conclusion, the issue was never incomplete observational evidence; the issue was flawed logic.

For example, in the seventh grade I was forced to partake in the coming-of-age ritual we know as frog dissection. I was saddened by the prospect of cutting open an innocent animal, and, like many others, wondered why it was necessary. I understood that our teachers wanted us to have a hands-on experience with anatomy, but I thought a model might be just as effective as an actual frog.

As it turns out, I wasn’t able to examine the frog’s anatomy very closely, because my lab partners decided it was far more amusing to throw frog guts in my hair than do the assignment.  Instead, I waited until my lab partners grew bored of flinging frog guts, copied the frog-anatomy diagram from the textbook onto my lab sheet, and got an A on the assignment, anyway.

This incident illustrated two points to me: 1. Not only is frog dissection inhumane to the frogs, but Junior High is inhumane to children. 2. Students don’t dissect frogs so that they will discover something new, but to prove that they can find what the book tells them. The textbook is the ultimate authority.

I wasn’t surprised that Junior High was just as inhumane as Elementary School had been, and I wasn’t surprised that the science textbook was supposed to be the ultimate arbiter of scientific knowledge, above observation. In my mind, grownups already knew everything, and all that was left for a student to do was to put the information together in the proper way. When  grownups seemingly made mistakes, like allowing a small girl to be routinely bullied by her classmates, it was for mysterious reasons beyond my ken, such as “tough love.”

If grownups already know everything, why bother with empiricism? Just build models based on what they already know, and hope you will gain wisdom about things like “tough love” in time.

The entire frog exercise seemed like a utilitarian 0. However, the assignment was given by the authorities, so in the end I decided that I must have had messed up the assignment in some way- nevermind that the authorities gave me an A. Some small part of my mind questioned the necessity of using real frogs, but I didn’t question any other aspect of the situation.





I told the frog story to illustrate how deeply modest epistemology can be ingrained. My thinking has matured a great deal since I was in the seventh grade. I understand now that there are still gaps in humanity’s knowledge, and that empiricism is a vital tool in making discoveries and testing the models we build. However, my habit of deferring to authority is so deeply ingrained that I have a tough time believing that I can do anything useful.

My deference to authority may have started out as an innate sense of my place in the social order, which Yudkowsky discusses in the chapter Status Regulation and Anxious Underconfidence. Or I may have been trained to be modest by the school system- the function of which makes a lot more sense after reading the chapter Moloch’s Toolbox. Heck, a lot of my anxious underconfidence may be related to a lifetime of frog guts in my hair.

Regardless, Yudkowsky’s work has left me with a task- to overcome my habitual deference, so I can focus on analyzing when I can hope to do better than a system that allows bullying, dead babies, and a billion or so other daily tragedies. His final chapters give a rough set of ideas one can use to accomplish this, and a warning to those who would become overconfident instead of underconfident.

Yudkowsky’s best advice on how to calibrate one’s ability to predict when you can do better is, sadly, advice I cannot use: “Bet on everything where you can or will find out the answer.” One of my most annoying habits is apologizing to my friends for being right in an argument, and winning any zero-sum game makes me feel even worse than losing. I’ve gotten very good at knocking myself down the social ladder so that others won’t.

Instead, I am going to have to be methodical in my approach, to chip my way around my bad mental habits and to find ways to reward myself that don’t make me feel guilty. Most importantly, I need to find the strength within myself to look up at the giants around me and say, “you might be wrong,” and to do this without experiencing a “slapdown” that will discourage further growth. 

To this end, I think it will be useful to look at the scenario as though I am a third-party observer and ask the following questions.

  1. Have I diligently researched the claim I’m questioning, as well as the system that produced it? This includes performing any feasable real-world test.
  2. Do I assume I can’t do better because I actually can’t, or because I fear the social consequences of my presumption?
  3. Is there a way I can improve things for myself or others and still avoid adverse social consequences?
  4. If not, are the potential rewards worth the social risk?

(As someone who flinches away from betting, I assume #4 is very similar to questions all betters ask.)

I have the mental tools I need to verify what works; I will simply need to make periodic checks to make sure I’m using them. My mental process is so automatic that I rarely notice it, so I will have to make a mantra to remind myself that it’s ok to win. Building new habits is difficult.

I see this book as a call to action- not just to me, but to the rationality community. You have to tools- now use them to start winning. I have been observing the online rationality community for some time, and I see some winning already occurring, but I wonder how many observers there are out there like me- timid armchair enthusiasts. If we all get out of our armchairs, what will happen?


Don’t panic! I won’t be gone long, and I certainly haven’t stopped working on The Coven. Some personal things have come up, however, so my next post will be delayed. My hiatus won’t last long- no more than a couple of weeks- and then I will return to my usual posting schedule.

In the meantime, here’s a picture of a giraffe’s tongue.

The Coven, Part LVI

The widow’s veil had reached its zenith, and Tigris had rolled away to the west. By the heavenly clock’s hand, we approached the dawn.

“I want you to hear the worst,” Prudence said. “I’ve been running from my past for too long, and I believe that you can help me find the path to the future.”

I looked back down at Prudence. Her expression was serene as she gazed up at the stars, and guilt wrenched my stomach once more.

“Why do you believe that? It seems irrational,” I said.

“You’ve said it yourself-we are connected.”

I jumped down from the platform and began to pace the circumference of the room. “We are connected, but the more I think about it, the more I realize how destructive that connection has been.”

“I see,” Prudence said quietly. “So you really do hate me.”

I spun back to face her. “Why would I hate you?”

“You might hate me because I was your husband’s mistress, however long ago it was. Or perhaps you hate me because I left him without explanation, causing him pain. Even if you can forgive my past sins, I am a hypocrite. I accused you of witchcraft when you first arrived, in your moment of pain, when I was a witch all along. Pick a reason- I daresay there are more.”

“You might not have had to make such difficult choices, if not for me,” I countered. “You don’t realize the extent to which I have destroyed your happiness.”

I began to pace the room again as I spoke. I first related the tale Hope had told me- that his ancestors’ refusal to fight the Ancients had condemned his family. Then, before Prudence could protest my innocence, I launched into an explanation of my father’s conspiracy with the Prince to trap the Frey family with their soulless gift, freeing the Freys from hell and securing the loyalty of a powerful noble family.

I spoke more and more quickly, purging, through confession, the guilt that I’d carried. I did not hesitate to express the hatred I’d felt for my father and the Prince when they’d revealed their conspiracy, and I admitted that I’d allowed Hope to carry out my vengeance by breaking their minds. In order to be thorough,  I made sure to explain the ill-advised blood oath Hope and I had made.

“This opened the way for Father Pius to seize power,” I said. “Without any further use for Hope, Father Pius used our blood oath as an excuse to betray everyone under coven law. Don’t you see? Your family was damned because of mine, you could not marry Hope because I was intended for him, and he sits in prison now because of my actions. I’ve done nothing but cause misery since I’ve been born. Perhaps- perhaps I should have remained alone.”

I stopped pacing; all of my energy seemed to have drained away. I looked up at the stars once more, and they shattered apart into a thousand rainbows. I wiped my eyes, and the stars coalesced into their proper shapes once more. I’d been weeping as I spoke, and I hadn’t even noticed.

Prudence stood and came to me without a word. She took the veil from around her shoulders and wrapped it around mine.

“You’re cold,” she said. “Perhaps we should go back inside.”

“I’m not cold,” I protested. In truth, I was too numb to feel the cold. “Please tell me; do you hate me? Is this the end of our friendship?”

“I’ve tried to hate you,” Prudence said. “Before you came to del Sol, I despised you. You had taken Hope’s love, you had stolen Celeste, Abbess Joy loved you devotedly, and even Mr. Filius admired you. I was sick with envy.

“But then I met you, and grew to know you. I realized that you’ve earned the love I envied, and that I had foolishly tossed away.”

I dried the tears that had fallen on my cheeks. “I’ve earned nothing but disdain.”

“You’ve described circumstances over which you had no control. You made one error in all of this, and that was the result of a weakness in character I already knew. Even so, you have so much more good in you than the villains in your story- can you clearly see who those villains are?”

“Can you see the villains in your own story?” I countered.

We stood a moment, gazing at each other in the pale light of the pre-dawn sky. Then Prudence spoke.

“I haven’t finished my story, yet.” Prudence sat on the platform again, and I sat beside her.

“There are two principal types of magic,”Prudence explained. “The first is spellcraft, which requires ritual action and is more easily performed with the help of a coven. The second is innate magic, which is a special ability each mage possesses and can be cast without a spell. A mage’s innate magic strengthens after they form a contract, and it usually manifests itself before the mage’s curse.

“My curse, however, manifested itself first. When most people look at me, they see…”

Prudence trailed off, biting her lip as she struggled with the words.

“Hope said that the curse stole your beauty,” I said, “but to me it seems unthinkable that no one would see the beauty I see.”

Prudence turned her head away from me. “It’s dark. You can’t see my face properly.”

I reached out and gently turned her face back toward me.

“The sky is getting lighter- I can see you almost as well as I did in the electric light. Your eyes are the color of bluebells, you have a smudge of ink on your cheek that has been streaked with tears, and you are lovely.”

She reached up to wipe her downy cheek, missing the mark entirely. “Most people see a twisted visage and dull, lifeless eyes. Hope tried to hide my reflection from me after I’d changed, but his efforts were futile. When I learned my curse, it was more than I could bear. I’d already been shunned from polite society, but my curse ensured I would be hated no matter where I went.

“My innate power revealed itself just when I thought my lot could not get any worse. To my horror and disgust, I learned that my power is seduction. With this face- it almost seemed as though I were a player in a cosmic farce.

“Monsignor Pius, who had previously been so kind and understanding, revealed his true colors to me. He tried to convince me to seduce his church rivals, and then expose them. Why not? I was already a fallen woman. He was certain that Hope would forgive me if I did it for the greater good.”

Prudence clenched her fists as she spoke, and I reached out to take her hand without thinking.

“I refused, and I went to Hope to reveal Pius’s treachery. Pius, however, had spoken to Hope already. He told Hope that the magic was driving me mad, and that I was becoming delusional. Hope, who had been so gentle and attentive since I’d changed, was easily swayed by his own worries. Now Hope stayed by my side day and night, guarding me from acting against the coven’s knowledge. Hope would not listen when I tried to warn him about Pius. Pius used Hope’s love as a weapon against me.”

“Father Pius is especially adept at turning people’s own strength against them,” I said. “I wish I could say I am surprised by his cruelty.”

I reached toward my pocket to get a handkerchief, but Prudence clung to my hand and would not let it go.

“Father Pius found my grimoire- the book of magic research I’d compiled.” She gestured toward the black tome with her free hand. “Thankfully, no guild members were referenced in my work, but he saw and recognized the guild’s symbols and methods. My involvement with the oculists, and my intention to reveal the secrets of magic to them, was a violation of the coven law. Pius betrayed me to the inquisition, and that might have been the end of my story, if not for Lux.”

“Lux helped you?” I said, unable to contain my surprise.

Prudence wiped her eyes with her left hand, and a small smile tugged at her swollen lips.

“Yes- Lux told me what Pius had done, and warned me that the inquisition was coming to arrest me. I had hardly any time to escape, and in that time I could not decide whether it was better to warn Hope of Pius’s treachery, or to try and distance Hope from any further involvement with a woman marked for death.

“ I allowed myself one last night with Hope. He didn’t understand that I was saying goodbye, and he didn’t hear my warnings about Pius. Instead, he thought I doubted his love. He tried to persuade me that I was still beautiful in his eyes, and that he could keep me safe.

“I would have stayed with Hope longer to try and save him, but my time was short. I suspected that I was with child- the very child Hope and I had wished for, so we could persuade the bishop to allow our marriage. Now, however, I had to leave Hope to protect our child. So I escaped, I gave birth alone, and though we survived, I’m still not sure I made the right decision.”

“Sometimes there is no right decision,” I said.

“Still,” Prudence looked down and sighed. “What must Hope think of me? I did try to send word to him, but it was risky. I only managed to send him one cryptic letter, and I don’t know if he ever received it. I was always running- for almost ten years, I ran. I went from the home of one oculist guild member to the next, picking up work were I could. I tried to make my way to del Sol, but every time I got close my way was blocked by inquisitors.

“Finally, I boarded a freighter that was bound for the nearby bay, but the ship carried contraband. Inquisitors seized the cargo, and me along with it. The inquisitors quickly uncovered my identity, and then they stripped, shaved, and tortured me. The worst thing they did, though, was take Celeste away. I didn’t know what had become of her, and I agonized over her fate when I was alone in my cell.

“The torture eventually ceased, and I thought I would be hanged before I would learn what had become of Celeste. The day of my hanging, however, never came. I was left in my cell without food, alone and forgotten. I was growing thin, shrinking, dying.

“One night- it seemed like it was always night in the tower- an old woman brought me a bowl of gruel. I barely had the strength to eat it, but she helped me. I can’t remember what happened next- I must have fainted- but when I awoke, I was dressed in pilgrim’s robes and riding a cart bound for del Sol. My wounds had been healed, and I was still thin, but no longer emaciated. There was a note in my pocket that informed me that Celeste was safe with her grandmother, and which gave further instructions to ask for Abbess Joy to grant me sanctuary.

“Only one person could have healed my wounds so completely- the same person who had written the note. Lux had saved me once more.”

“Do you believe Lux is trustworthy, then? I asked. “Do you think he may be working against Father Pius?”

“He would never work against Pius,” Prudence said firmly. “Pius and Lux’s very souls are entwined. They bound themselves together using an ancient ritual of blood, mind, and spirit. The reason they chose to bind themselves in such a way was pure, simple love.”

“If that is the case, then Pius must have been complicit when Lux saved you.”

“There can be no doubt of that. Pius knew that Lux did not wish for me to die, so he allowed him to save my life after I was no longer a threat. If Pius has one weakness, it is his bond with Lux. However, the bond works both ways, so we cannot completely trust Lux.”

“Lux told me himself that he was not Pius’s weakness, and I believed him.” I closed my eyes. “I can still see Lux’s eyes, empty of any warmth or compassion as Hope begged him for mercy. After such a display, l could only see Lux’s pity toward me as a farce. Lux is loyal to Pius, and Pius has thoroughly expressed his hatred for me.”

“Then why did you go away with Lux the night you arrived at del Sol?”

“Lux asked me to help him retrieve the Frey family writ of condemnation. I had already deduced that it may save Hope, since he had yet to produce the requisite heirs, and the High Priests seal cannot be broken by anyone. Lux promised me that he would use it to help Hope, and he gave me a weapon to use against him if he betrayed me.

“Even with the weapon he gave me, however, I cannot fully  trust Lux. Lux admitted to me that the witch trial is a farce that Pius is using to serve his own goals.”

“Do you have any idea what Pius’s true goal is?”

“I’ve only gathered hints so dark that I cannot repeat them.”

Prudence shivered, and then stood, walking slowly around the platform. The first rays of morning light shone against her red hair, setting it aglow like molten copper.

“One thought gives me comfort; Lux’s curse is the inability to kill. Knowing Lux’s curse, Pius still made him high inquisitor.”

Lux could kill me, if he chose, I thought. He could kill any Ancient, and Pius would watch him do it gladly.

“There’s so much more you need to know,” I said. “But first, please answer one question honestly. Don’t try to spare my feelings.

Prudence stopped walking and sighed. After a few moments, she turned back and gazed at me so intently that I began to feel oddly naked.

“Very well,” she said. “I love him. Despite all of these years, I still yearn for him. Hope will always be a part of me.”

Without thinking, I stood and embraced her.

Prudence flinched at first, and then she relaxed and wrapped her arms around me.

“You silly girl,” she said. “We’re supposed to be rivals.”

“Our rivalry will have to wait until Hope is free,” I said. “I’m too relieved to find someone else who is on Hope’s side.”

“You trust me, then?”

“I already trusted you. Now we’re more than friends- we’re allies.”

“Not even the Gods could halt your madness,” Prudence said with a laugh. “Pius doesn’t stand a chance.”