Coryn gulped. She looked at the stack of books, volumes that she had virtually memorized over the years. Yes, the other tome fascinated her more than any of rest, and again impulsively she blurted out the truth.

"Actually, Umma, I read your secret book for the first time a long time ago, even though it seemed like so much nonsense. I couldn't make anything out of it. But then, later, I felt almost like it was calling me. Last winter, it was, the first time it called me. You were napping out here in your rocking chair. You just had some of those winterberries I brought you, and a little nip of that bottle on the mantle-"

"You never mind that bottle, Child!" Umma said sternly. "That's an old woman's medicine, not for the likes of you!"

"No-I mean, I know! I've never touched it. Well, only touched it to pour some for you, I mean. But I don't even like the way it smells!"

"Never mind my bottle-tell me about the book!"

"Well, I started to tell you, if you would only let me finish! I felt the book calling me that day, last winter. I remember when-it was just after the Night of Two Moons. At least that's what the villagers called it. You know, when the big white moon changed, got smaller. And there was a red moon, too, one I had never seen before. But Papa told me they had been the moons when he was a boy, only they went away when the gods left. All the old hunters were talking about it… about the two moons coming back."

"Yes, yes, the moons. Stop dawdling, girl. Tell me!"

Coryn set her chin and spoke defiantly. "Like I was saying, if you'd stop interrupting, they all were talking about two moons. I didn't say anything to them, didn't want them to think 1 was crazy… again. But there are three moons up there now, aren't there? The red and the white. Everybody sees the two. But there is a darker one, too-a black moon? One that nobody can see."

"Nobody?" Umma's eyes, for the first time, glimmered not with irritation, but with concern for her granddaughter. "You are saying you can't see it then?"

"No, I can't see it," Coryn replied, surprised to see relief soften the old woman's visage. "But I can sense that it's there. Sometimes I watch the night sky, and see that stars blink out of sight for a little while. And I know, somehow I know, that's because the black moon is crossing."

"Get back to the book! What about the book? Tell the truth, and don't waste my time!"

"Grandma!" The young woman stared defiantly. Without softening her own gaze, Umma waited for her to continue. "It's… it's just the most fascinating thing I have ever seen," Cory admitted. "A lot of it doesn't even make sense to me- like it's written in a whole different language. But even when I don't know the words, I like reading them, thinking about what they mean, and trying to make the sounds."

"Surely you haven't read that whole book? Many a fool has tried and failed!"

"All of it," Coryn said, getting angry. "All of it! Twice. The first time, when I didn't understand a thing, and the second time, when it called to me."

Umma sat back in her rocker and looked at the girl with an expression as close to astonishment as anything Coryn had ever seen on the old woman's generally cross, stony, and inscrutable visage.

"All of it! Huh!" It was as if Umma were speaking to herself. She looked at Coryn, shook her head once, and snapped curtly, "Help me up!"

Cory climbed to her feet and extended both hands, taking her grandmother's thin but deceptively strong fingers. She pulled her up, and the old woman hobbled over to the crowded writing desk next to her small dining table. She fumbled through the stack of objects, pulling out a sheet of parchment that, while torn and ragged, seemed to be free of writing.

"My quill!" she snapped. "Where is it? And bring some ink, too! Hurry, Girl!"

Coryn hastened to obey, finding the writing implements on the hearth over the big stone fireplace. Umma sat down at the desk, uncapped the inkwell beside the flat sheet of parchment, and scowled at her granddaughter who stood, full of curiosity, nearby.

"Well? Shouldn't you brew some tea or something? And get out of those wet things-can't have you catching a chill! Not now, of all times! You're going to be needing all of your strength, you are. Besides, your hair's a mess-you'll have rats making a nest there if you don't take care. Move, Girl!"

Shrugging her shoulders with irritation, Coryn hurried to fill the teapot, stoke the fire, doff her soggy trousers, and run a stubby brush through her long, dark tresses. Every time she glanced toward the desk, she saw Umma busily scribing away. Every once in a while the old woman looked up and gave her a fierce stare, and Cory quickly went back to her combing. She had a particularly stubborn tangle, where her hair had picked up some burrs during her struggles in the snowbank.

"My stamp!" Umma snapped, looking up finally and rolling the parchment into a tight roll. "And don't forget the candle!"

Obediently, Cory lit a long wax taper with a coal from the fireplace then carried the burning candle and the small brass stamp over to the old woman. She tried not to show her burning curiosity as she peered at the scroll of leathery paper. Wasting no time, Umma melted a spot of wax and dropped it onto the edge of the parchment, then stamped it tightly shut.

"Here," she said abruptly, thrusting the scroll at Coryn as if it were a short, blunt sword. "Take this now!"

"Sure," the girl replied. "But, urn, where? "

"Why, to Palanthas, of course," snapped the old woman. "Weren't you just telling me how much you wanted to see that place? 'Fabled city'… 'shining knights'… 'ladies in their fine gowns?' It's all kind of overrated, if you ask me, but I 'spect you young'uns have to find that out for yourself."

"Palanthas!" gasped Coryn. Her head was spinning, and she wanted to sit down and jump in the air at the same time. She settled for standing stock still and staring at Umma in disbelief. "Why, that's on the other side of the world! It's got to be a thousand miles away from here! I can't go to Palanthas! I can't even leave Two Forks! What will Papa say? And Mama-I have skins to tan, nets to haul…" Her voice trailed off as a myriad of real obligations, boring and mundane to the last, rose in her mind. Was her grandmother going crazy?

"And what about the fish? You know how the men need me to tell them right before the salmon start running-I listen to the water, and I know."

"Bah, I'll talk to your Mama and Papa-remind your Papa of when he decided to take off for Tarsis, if I have to. Let the fishermen fend for themselves. Stop babbling, and get moving. You're going to Palanthas!"

"Why? Why am I going to Palanthas all of a sudden?" demanded Coryn, determined to get a grip on the conversation before her mind spun completely out of control.

"Why am I going to Palanthas?" Umma mimicked the question, her scratchy voice harsh with sarcasm. "Why, you were just telling me, Girl. Knights! Ladies! Nobles! Sounds like you know that city better than some folks who've lived there all their lives. Now, get cracking."

Coryn didn't budge, but now her face looked puzzled and worried.

Umma's mouth creased into a hint of a smile as she reached and lifted up her granddaughter's chin, stroking it with an affection she didn't usually show. The old woman gestured to the parchment scroll that Coryn was clutching very tightly in her hands. "You are going to visit an old friend of mine, one of those 'fine ladies' you're all hepped up about. You are to do me a favor and deliver her that scroll, and after that, you are to do whatever she tells you to."

"You mean, I'm to be her servant?" asked Coryn, aghast. The old woman shrugged. "If that's what she wants, yes. Hear me well, Child-you are to do whatever my good friend tells you to do."