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"I see," I offered.

He laughed and kissed me. "Pray that we all do."

We filed into the chamber proper.

It was a vaster space than I would have reckoned from the antechamber. Groin vaults arched, the ceiling soaring. More lamps flickered. I gazed up at the gathering shadows, then down at the floor.

There.

An insignia similar to the Seal of Shalomon engraved into one side of my medallion was engraved on the floor itself. This one contained a circle with a six-pointed star within it. There was a brazier at its center. Words in a language I couldn't read were inscribed along its circumference. Members of the Circle drifted around its perimeter and took up established positions at each point of the star.

"Come." Raphael beckoned, holding out his hand.

I took it.

"Claire?" Denis lifted his head. "Will you speak the first conjuration?"

She did.

Whatever she said, it was in a language wholly unfamiliar to me. The longer she spoke, the more her voice grew in strength. I let it wash over me. The air seemed to pulse and tighten, but nothing happened.

"The second conjuration," Denis prompted her.

She spoke again at length in the strange language; and then again, the third conjuration. The air grew tighter and tighter. In the center of the star, it shimmered. An image formed in my mind of a closed doorway with light streaming around the frame. At one point, Balric Maitland drew a sword and extended it over the brazier, something dangling from its tip. The brazier flared briefly. The light around the doorway in my mind grew stronger.

More words.

"Moirin," Raphael muttered. "Now!"

I took a deep breath, summoned the twilight, and pushed.

The doorway in my mind opened and vanished. Crimson light streamed upward from the floor. When it faded, the figure of a beautiful young boy in a white tunic stood in the center of the star.

"Elua!" someone breathed.

The room swam in my vision and only Raphael's hand sliding beneath my elbow kept me on my feet. I'd lost my grip on the twilight. Claire Fourcay, her voice trembling, spoke in a rush of words. The boy's image flickered, then steadied. He made a reply to her in a high, sweet voice.

"It's him," she whispered. "Valac."

"Ask him!" Orien de Legasse's voice was feverish. "Ask him to tell us the charm for revealing hidden things!"

"You speak Habiru as well as I." She was pale. "You ask."

Lamplight flashed off his spectacles as Orien made his inquiry. The boy smiled and replied sweetly, then raised one finger and began to write on the air. Fiery letters in a strange alphabet formed and faded in the wake of his finger.

"Damn it!" Raphael swore. "Lianne, can you commit it to memory?"

"I'm trying!"

I felt dizzy and very much as though I might faint. I breathed the Pulse of the Earth, willing myself to remain upright. Everyone was watching the boy, rapt. With the last of my strength, I summoned the twilight and took refuge in it, hoping to draw strength there. The room turned dim and muted, the fiery golden-orange letters turned to soft silver flame.

The boy turned toward me.

You.

He looked different in the twilight. His eyes were yellow with vertical pupils like a goat's. He wore only a clout of cloth around his loins and his slender chest was bare. Wings as black as raven feathers sprang from his shoulders.

I swallowed hard.

Those inhuman eyes regarded me with curiosity. What are you?

"Moirin," I whispered.

His lips stretched in a smile. What is a Moirin ?

"A child of the Maghuin Dhonn."

Ah. The boy looked past me. I do not know of this Maghuin Dhonn. But there is a vast presence attendant on you.

It made my heart hurt. "You see Her? Can you reveal Her to me?"

He shook his head. She is not mine to command.

"Oh." I was disappointed. "Well, thank you for telling me nonetheless. It's a comfort."

The boy smiled again, wider this time. His teeth were very white and pointed. You are welcome. For your courtesy, I will do you a kindness. Be careful, Moirin of the Maghuin Dhonn. We are not all so benevolent.