Abruptly she stopped talking and glanced at her hands, clasped tightly in her lap, lips also clamped together, clearly afraid she had said too much. Alyce merely stared at her in astonishment for several seconds, uncertainty warring with the impulse to reach across and take her hand in reassurance.

She had been Truth-Reading Zoë Morgan as the words came tumbling out, and had no doubt that they had come straight from the heart. She had come to trust Zoë more than any other human she had known. But was it enough, merely to trust in the goodwill of another, no matter how well-intentioned, when one's very life could hang in the balance?

«Zoë, what is it you want me to do?» she asked softly.

«I — suppose that I want you to feel that you can talk to me about — about whatever is most important to you, the things that frighten you, the part of your life that you can't discuss safely with anyone else. I want you to tell me about what it's like to be — what you are». Zoë glanced nervously at the door.

«I want to know if it's true that our two peoples once worked together openly, and if it is, I — think I want to learn to do that, too», she finally blurted. «I know that will probably mean — letting you touch my mind, but I–I'm willing to do that, because I love you and trust you like a sister!»

Tears were welling in her eyes by the time she had finished, but when Alyce would have spoken, Zoë held up one hand and shook her head.

«No, don't say anything yet. There's more I need to say. I know that you must talk about these things with your sister and with Sister Jessilde, because she's — what you are. And I think that Father Paschal must be one, too, though I don't know how that's possible, with him being a priest and all.

«But I think that the real reason he comes here so often is not just to bring you letters and presents from home, or to tell you what's happening there, but so that he can continue your training. And Jessilde either helps him, or he's training her, too. If I'm wrong, tell me and I'll be quiet, but that's what I think».

Alyce had listened to this unfolding of logic in disbelief, though she was quite certain that Zoë was absolutely earnest in what she was saying. She was also wondering whether, if Zoë had reached such conclusions, others also might have done so. Caution urged her to simply seize control of the other girl's mind and erase all memory of this exchange, also blurring the logic by which Zoë had arrived at her all-too-perceptive conclusions — and that was what Father Paschal would have advised, she felt certain.

But another part of her rejoiced in her friend's unsolicited and tearful declaration, and was already considering ways in which she might allow what was being asked. To have a friend with whom she could be utterly candid, in everything…

«Zoë, have you told anyone else about these astonishing suspicions?» she asked softly.

Zoë drew herself up indignantly. «Certainly not!»

«Not even your confessor?»

«Not even him. No one», Zoë said emphatically.

Alyce drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. Whether she obeyed her head or her heart, she would have to set certain controls, to protect both of them; but especially if it be the latter, best it be with permission and cooperation. And she would need both time and privacy to do that properly — luxuries she did not have at the moment, for the bells would soon be ringing for the evening office.

«Zoë, give me your hand», she murmured, laying hers on the shelf between them.

In the other's eyes, she could see uncertainty warring with the trust just declared, but Zoë Morgan did not hesitate to place her hand in Alyce's, even though it was trembling.

«You are so brave!» Alyce whispered, lightly closing her fingers around Zoë's. «I know you said you weren't afraid, and I know you meant it, at the time. But how could you not be afraid? — though I promise you, on my immortal soul, that I'll not hurt you».

She cupped her other hand over their joined ones and dared to send a gentle tendril of calm across their link. At the same time, she bypassed Zoë's will to resist and began teasing out the necessary threads for plaiting a quick protection that must suffice until she could do the job right — or until Father Paschal could be persuaded to assist her. Zoë had gone very still, and a little glassy-eyed.

«Zoë, understand that it will take some time to do what really needs to be done», Alyce whispered as she worked, «and we don't have that time right now — not to do it properly. But in the meantime, I need to protect both of us».

«Are you — reading my mind?» Zoë managed to whisper, eyelids fluttering.

«No, I'm not — and I won't, without your permission — but I am setting up certain safeguards. For now, I'll simply require that you speak of this to no one. From this moment, you will be physically unable to speak of it, other than in my presence and with my permission. In fact, until I tell you otherwise, you'll have only vague recollections regarding what we've just discussed, and what's happening to you now. Later, I'll give you back full memory, but for now, that's what I need. I'd like it to be with your consent».

Zoë gave a slight nod, almost drifting into sleep.

«Good», Alyce said. She gave the captive hand a squeeze and released it, also releasing Zoë to the controls she had just set. «You know, we'd better clean up here, or we'll be late for chapel. Tomorrow we can pick up where we left off».

And by tomorrow, Alyce thought to herself, maybe I'll have figured out the best way to do what needs to be done. But oh, Zoë, bless you for your faith!

Zoë blinked and ventured a faintly bewildered smile that dissolved into a yawn. «Goodness, it's been a long afternoon, hasn't it?» she said. «I can't imagine why I'm so tired. I hope I don't nod off during evening prayers».

«We both could use some fresh air», Alyce agreed.

You are right that I would not have approved», Paschal said the next time he came, after Alyce had sent Zoë for refreshments, and told him what she had done. «But having said that, I must confess to being most impressed at how far you have brought her along». He had been examining one of Zoë's illuminated pages, but Alyce knew he was not referring to the artistry of pen or brush or paint.

«Indeed, your work appears to have been both subtle and effective», Paschal continued, sitting. «Had you not told me, I would not have thought to look at her more closely — which I now must do, as soon as she returns; you know that».

Alyce only nodded, saying nothing.

«I would ask what you were thinking», Paschal went on, «but the answer to that is clear. She is fond of you, and you of her — and I know it will have given you much comfort to find a friend on whom you may rely — and that may well be true, within these walls. But it is a short-sighted measure, Alyce».

«Could you not reserve that judgment until after you have examined her?» Alyce said boldly.

«I could — and I shall», he replied, rising as Zoë re-entered the room with a tray decked with cups, a jug of wine, and a plate of sweet cakes and nuts. «Zoë, dear, put those down and come here, please».

Apparently unconcerned, Zoë did as he requested, coming fearlessly to look at him in question. «Yes, Father?»

«Have you ever seen Lady Alyce conjure handfire?»

The bald question took Zoë totally by surprise, but she only said, «That is forbidden, Father».

«Answer the question!» Paschal snapped, feigning anger, though his flicker of thought to Alyce acknowledged the deft evasion in lieu of an answer.

«No, Father, I have not», Zoë said, looking mystified.

«Say that you have never seen her conjure handfire, or kindle fire from the air», Paschal persisted.

«But, I never have…»

«Say it!» Paschal commanded again.