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the massive sack of food.

While the pack of dogs ate the sections of beef in the shade of the shed, Lyra crossed the yard to the well and turned the crank, the magic-infused winch rotating effortlessly as a full bucket of water rose to the top. She unhooked the bucket and emptied it into a nearby trough. After rehooking the bucket, she lowered it until it sank below the water and then again hoisted the full bucket to the top. This time, she poured a bit of water into a shallow pail and used the water and a bar of soap to scrub her hands. She dumped the remaining water into the trough as two dogs loped over to drink. With the dogs fed and their water refilled, she passed through the courtyard and into the house to check on dinner.

As she entered the kitchen, her stomach grumbled when the scent of baking bread greeted her. She slipped a pair of leather gloves on and opened the perpetually hot oven, removing the bread before setting it on the table. The strips of lean beef she tossed onto the iron stovetop quickly began to sizzle. While they cooked, she glanced toward Cal’s door and frowned in thought. Over an hour had passed since he had disappeared with the lute.

Crossing the room to open the coldbox, she removed a carafe of milk and a bowl of butter. After setting them on the table, she used a pair of tongs to rotate the beef strips. A minute later, she grabbed them with the tongs and set the beef strips on a plate. She opened the oven, grabbed the two sizzling potatoes, and set them on the plate with the beef as Cal’s door opened. He emerged with the lute in hand, appearing worn.

“Are you okay?”

He entered the kitchen and nodded. “I’m just a bit exhausted.”

Her brow furrowed. “What were you doing in there?”

Cal shrugged. “Magic things.” He held the lute toward her. “Here’s the lute, all finished. However, you need to be careful where and when you play it.”

She accepted the lute, her eyes flicking from the instrument to Cal. “Why do you say that?”

A grin spread across his face. “Because this lute is now a magical instrument.”

Lyra held it up and examined the back of the lute, finding three instances of the same symbol etched into the drum. “Does it have to do with these runes?” He nodded. “What will happen?”

“Others will feel the way I feel when I hear you play. I’m afraid it might do more than that, but I can’t be sure until you try it.” His focus shifted, the energy in his voice returning as he stared at the table. “It looks like dinner is ready. It smells wonderful, too.”

Cal rubbed his hands together as he passed Lyra on his way to the table. Lyra bit her lip and stared at the lute in her hands, unsure if she ever dare play it.

12

A scream pulled Lyra from her dream, and her eyes flashed open. She sat up, her heart racing.

Fumbling in the darkness, her fingers danced along the top of her nightstand until she found the cloth and pulled it aside. The glowing rock Cal had given her lit the room, the soft blue nimbus giving shape to her surroundings and chasing the shadows into the corners.

Another scream disturbed the silence and sent chills down her spine. Lyra slipped out of bed and gripped the doorknob. When she eased it open, she held the stone above her head and found the corridor empty, the doors open except the one to Cal’s room.

She crept down the corridor and peeked into the kitchen, finding it exactly as it was when she had gone to bed. Cal’s voice came from behind her in a series of unintelligible shouts. Lyra retreated to his room and put her hand on the doorknob. With trepidation, she pushed the door open.

Cal lay in his bed, alone in the room. He jerked and moaned, shifting his covers. Lyra approached his bedside and found his face damp with sweat, his breathing in gasps and fits. She put her hand on his shoulder and shook him.

His eyes shot open, and he bolted upright, gasping for air. The look on his face sent another chill down Lyra’s spine.

“It’s alright, Cal. It was just a dream.”

He turned toward her, his eyes meeting hers. “No.” He shook his head. “Not a dream. This was something more.”

Cal tossed his covers aside and climbed out of bed wearing only his smallclothes. He grabbed his trousers from a hook on the wall and began to dress. Having never seen him with his shirt off, Lyra found herself distracted by the ripples of his lean torso. She became aware of her own body, feeling self-conscious in her thin shift, and she turned around to return to her own room.

“I had a vision, Tali.” The tone of Cal’s voice stopped her mid-step. “A powerful vision of the future.”

She spun about to face him. “Like a…a prophecy?”

He nodded before slipping his tunic over his head. “Unlike any I’ve experienced before.”

“You’ve had them before?”

“Yes. However, they’re usually only about me, something small and about my own near future – like the one I had about you just before you tried to rob me.”

“You had one about me?”

Cal ignored the question, and he opened the top drawer of his desk. After removing his journal, a bottle of ink, and a pen, he walked toward Lyra, grabbed the glowing rock from her hand, and slipped past her into the hallway.

She followed him to the kitchen, where he sat at the table with the glowing rock resting beside his journal. He flipped through the pages until he found the first blank page, tore the blank sheet out, and began writing.

“What is this about, Cal?” The screams that woke her flashed through her mind. “Is something bad going to happen?”

He stopped and stared at the paper for a moment before nodding. “You’re right. You deserve to know. It affects you, too.”

Lyra slid into a chair opposite from him, her attention fixed on his intense eyes.

“Something is coming, something I wasn’t quite able to discern in my vision. Whatever it was, it will be massive and terrible. They are going to use magic as a weapon, a weapon of the worst type. This magic will target people’s fear, rendering them powerless to fight it. More importantly, I must try and stop them.”

Lyra considered his cryptic words. “What are you going to do?”

Cal took a breath, releasing a long and deliberate exhale. “I must create a weapon to combat theirs.” He focused on the paper before him, the single sentence written on it now dry. “And, if this vision is true, we’ll also need a way to ferret out the lies. The truth cannot remain hidden or things might grow worse.”

“You keep saying they. Who are you referring to?”

Cal rubbed his eyes and sighed, seeming reluctant to respond. “I’m not sure, but I’m afraid that this vision is about The Hand. I’m afraid they are twisting my discoveries into something I never considered.” His voice fell to a whisper. “Something horrible.”

Lyra carried the bucket of meat and bones across the courtyard and out into the yard. She turned the corner and spotted the dogs resting in the shade of the outbuilding. A number of them saw her and stood, their tails wagging eagerly as she approached. Every dog now had black hair, even the white one Lyra had brought to the manor just two weeks earlier.

“Who wants breakfast?” she asked, causing the others to stir. The dogs clustered around her, sniffing and rubbing against her. Slowly upending the bucket, she dumped the contents out as she walked, leaving a trail of cooked beef, still on the bone. Once the bucket was empty, she glanced back at the dogs as she headed toward the house.

She paused and frowned. A quick count revealed eight dogs present, with Gilo and Striah both missing. Her focus shifted to the outbuilding where the dogs slept. She approached the single-room structure, its door standing open. As Lyra reached the doorway, the heavy scent of canine odor wafted from inside. Blinking, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the dark confines.

“Gilo? Striah? Are you in

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