"The Sisters of the Light think I'm dead. They've put their faith in Verna, now, as their Prelate. It would be a terrible thing to do to Verna-and to the rest of the Sisters-to come back to life in the middle of such trying circumstances. Certainly many would be relieved to have me back, but it also sows the seeds of confusion and doubt. Battle is a very bad time for such seeds to sprout."

"But they would all be encouraged by your-"

Ann shook her head. "Verna is their leader. Such a thing could forever undermine their trust in her authority. They must not lose their faith in her leadership. I must put the welfare of the Sisters of the Light above all else. 1 must keep their best interests at heart, now."

"But, Ann, you are the Prelate."

Ann stared off. "What good has that done anyone?"

Alessandra's eyes turned down. The wind moaned sorrowfully through the trees. Gusts kicked up blue-gray trailers of snow and whipped them along through the campsite. The sunlight had vanished behind somber clouds. Ann wiped her nose on the edge of her icy cloak.

Alessandra laid a compassionate hand on Ann's arm. "You brought me back from the Keeper, back into the Light of the Creator. I was in Jagang's hands, and treated you terribly when they captured you, yet you never gave up on me. Who else would have cared? Without you, my soul would be lost for all time. I doubt you could fathom my gratitude for what you did, Prelate."

Despite Alessandra's apparent return to the Creator's Light, Ann had been fooled by the woman before. Years before, Alessandra had turned to the Keeper, becoming a Sister of the Dark, and Ann had never known. How could one have faith in a person after such a betrayal?

Ann looked up into Alessandra's eyes. "I hope so, Sister. I pray such is really true."

"It is, Prelate."

Ann lifted a hand toward the shrouded sun. "And perhaps when I go to the Creator's Light in the next world, that one good act will erase the thousands of lives lost because of me?"

Alessandra looked away, rubbing her arms through the layers of clothes.

She turned and put two sticks of wood on the fire.

"We should have a hot meal. That will make you feel better, Prelate. It will make us both feel better."

Ann sat on the ground watching Alessandra prepare her hearty camp soup.

Ann doubted that even the pleasant aroma of soup would arouse her appetite.

"Why do you think Nicci took Richard?" Alessandra asked as she put dried mushrooms from a pouch into the soup.

Ann looked up at Alessandra's puzzled face. "I can't imagine, except to think that she may be lying, and she is taking him to Jagang."

Alessandra broke up dried meat and dropped it into the boiling pot of soup. "Why? If she had him, and he was forced to do as she asked-why lie?

What would be the purpose?"

"She's a Sister devoted to the Keeper." Ann lifted her hands and let them flop back into her lap. "That's excuse enough to lie, isn't it? Lying is wrong. It's wicked. That's reason enough."

Alessandra shook her head in admonition. "Prelate, I was a Sister of the Dark. Remember? I know better. That isn't the way it is at all. Do you always tell the truth just because you are devoted to the Creator's Light?

No; one lies for the Keeper just as you would lie for the Creator-to His ends, if lying is necessary. Why would Nicci lie about that? She was in control of the situation and had no need to lie."

"I can't imagine." Ann had difficulty caring enough to consider the question. Her mind was in a morass of hopeless thoughts. It was her fault Richard was in the hands of the enemy, not Nicci's.

"I think she did it for herself."

Ann looked up. "What do you mean?"

"I think Nicci is still looking for something."

"Looking for something? What ever do you mean?"

With a finger, Alessandra brushed a measure of spices into the pot from a waxed paper she'd unfolded. "Ever since the first day I took her from her home and brought her to the Palace of the Prophets, Nicci continually grew more. . detached, somehow. She always did whatever she could to help people, but she was always a child who made me feel as if I was inadequate at fulfilling her needs."

"Such as?"

Alessandra shook her head. "I don't know. She always seemed to me to be looking for something. I thought she needed to find the Light of the Creator. I pushed her mercilessly, hoping it would open her eyes to His way and fill her inner need. I allowed her no room to think about anything else.

I even kept her away from her family. Her father was a selfish lover of money and her mother. . well, her mother was well intentioned, but always made me feel uncomfortable. I thought the Creator would fill that private void within Nicci." Alessandra hesitated. "And then I thought it was the Keeper she needed."

"So, you think she took Richard to fill some. . inner need? How does that make sense?"

"I don't know." Alessandra breathed out heavily in frustration. She stirred the soup as she drizzled in a pinch of salt. "Prelate, I think I failed Nicci."

"In what way?"

"I don't know. Perhaps 1 failed to involve her adequately in the needs of othersgave her too much time to think of herself. She always seemed devoted to the welfare of her fellow man, but maybe I should have rubbed her nose in other people's troubles more, to teach her the Creator's way of virtue through caring more for her fellow man rather than her own selfish wants."

"Sister, I hardly think that could be it. Once she asked me for an extravagant black dress to wear to her mother's funeral, and of course I refused such a profligacy because it was unfitting for a novice needing to learn to put others first, but other than that one time, l never knew Nicci to once ask for anything for herself. You did an admirable job with her, Alessandra."

Ann recalled that, after that, Nicci started wearing black dresses.

"I remember that." Alessandra didn't look up. "When her father died, I went with her to his funeral. 1 always felt sorry for taking her away from her family, but I explained to her that she was so talented that she had great potential for helping others and must not waste it."

"It's always hard to bring young ones to the palace. It's difficult to part a child from loving parents. Some adapt better than others."

"She told me she understood. Nicci was always good that way. She never objected to anything, any duty. Perhaps I assumed too much because she always threw herself into helping others, never once complaining.

"At her father's funeral, I wanted to help her over her grief. Even though she had that same cool exterior she always had, I knew her, I knew she was hurting inside. I tried to comfort her by telling her not to remember her father like that, but to try to remember him as he was when he was alive."

"Those are kind words to one in such grief, Sister. You offered wise advise."

Alessandra glanced up. "She was not comforted, Prelate. She looked at me with those blue eyes of hers-you remember her blue eyes."

Ann nodded. "I remember."

"Well, she looked at me with those piercing blue eyes, like she wanted to hate me, but even that emotion was beyond her, and she said in that lifeless voice of hers that she couldn't remember him as he was when he was alive, because she had never known him when he was alive. Isn't that the strangest thing you've ever heard?"

Ann sighed. "It sounds like Nicci. She always was one to say the strangest things at the strangest times. I should have offered her more guidance in her life. I should have taken more interest in her. . but there were so many matters needing my attention."

"No, Prelate, that was my job. I tailed in it. Somehow, I failed Nicci."

Ann pulled her cloak righter against a bitter gust of wind. She took the bowl of soup when Alessandra handed it to her.