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  Sinjin kicked at the still dirty floors in the hall known as the "false hall" since it went nowhere and seemed to serve no purpose. A few paces away, Brother Vaughn explained the mystery of the hall to Trinda, who seemed intrigued. Sinjin had heard it all before and knew that the mystery had very little to do with why they were there. Brother Vaughn had become convinced that forming a bond of friendship between Sinjin and Trinda was the way to mend the animosity between their families. At least he had not proposed they marry, Sinjin thought--at least not yet. He knew how these things worked, and he had no desire to find himself bound to the least pleasant person he'd ever met.

  It wasn't that Trinda was mean or spiteful; that would have been easier to deal with since Sinjin could at least strike back. Instead she was almost always sad, her deep-set eyes seeming to hold the pain of ages, and any enthusiasm in the face of such anguish seemed trite at best. Though he had tried on several occasions to hold a conversation with Trinda, the most he ever received in return was a single-word response and most times just a nod.

  "Look here," Brother Vaughn insisted. "Look at this corner, and tell me what you see."

  Sinjin continued to drag the toe of his boot in the dust, knowing what it was Brother Vaughn wanted her to see. At times he wondered about the aging monk's sanity, for the strangest things would hold his attention.

  "A seam," came Trinda's hollow response.

  "A seam, indeed!" Brother Vaughn said with a triumphant look at Sinjin. "You see, m'boy. I told you this girl has an eye and ear for mysteries!"

  Sinjin kept his eyes downcast, not really caring. All he really wanted was to get this over with so he could return to his normal life, not that many things were normal these days. He'd heard the whispered rumors that his mother would saddle Kyrien, and he'd even sneaked a few peeks at the saddle. Normally his mother shared all of her projects with him, and he'd spent much of his life in her workshop, but she wanted to keep the saddle from Sinjin. It seemed too surreal to be true, yet he had seen it with his own eyes, despite his mother's efforts to keep it concealed. Brother Vaughn wasn't convinced that Kyrien would ever fly again, and the presence of Reaver and the other dragons also reduced the likelihood of his ever leaving the valley. Without the protection of the guards stationed around him, he would be easy prey for the ferals.

  Sinjin tried not to think about them, yet the images came to his mind unbidden--images of ferals clouding the skies and ruling the world from above. He would never look at the skies the same way again, and he found himself grateful for the stone that hung above him. Even if it did press down on his spirit, threatening to crush it, at least it protected him from the death that waited under the skies. Never again would he be able to walk in the moonlight without wondering if something was about to swoop down and devour him.

  "Tell me: How do you think the ancients did this? And what do you think their purpose was?" Brother Vaughn asked, and he grabbed Sinjin by the shoulder and pulled him closer, a not-so-subtle reminder of why they were there.

  "Maybe they wanted to give you something to think about," Sinjin suggested, and Brother Vaughn gave him a disapproving look. When Sinjin looked over to Trinda with a grin forming on his lips, he saw disapproval on her face as well, and he resigned himself to the fact that they would never find anything to bring them closer. This girl was simply no fun at all.

  "Magic," Trinda said with a firm nod.

  Brother Vaughn was clearly taken aback by that answer. The word magic seemed to bother the Cathurans a great deal. Sinjin recalled his mother telling the tale of how Mother Gwendolin had reacted to her use of the word, and it seemed Brother Vaughn wanted to scoff as well, but he resisted. Sinjin respected his restraint but didn't possess its equal. "A magical riddle, then. Perhaps all you need to do is wave a wand and speak the magic words."

  Trinda glared at him, and Sinjin thought Brother Vaughn might scold him, but Trinda caught them both by surprise when she turned back to the barely detectable seam in the corner. "Open," she said as she ran her finger along the seam.

  Sinjin nearly laughed out loud, but then the stone beneath his feet trembled. Before anyone could say another word, movement at the other end of the hall drew their undivided attention. Slowly a wall of stone moved across the opening that was their only egress. Though ponderously slow, the stone would close off their exit long before they could reach it.

  With only the glow of Brother Vaughn's herald globe to illuminate what now seemed more like a tomb than anything else, Sinjin turned to Trinda. "I don't know how you did that, but I think you had better undo it, and fast."

  Trinda wore a shocked expression, and Sinjin could see the fear in her eyes. In a moment that forever changed him, he reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. "Just try."

  Running her finger along what was now an almost identical seam, which had only recently been an open hallway, Trinda repeated her command, "Open."

  Nothing happened.

  The silence that followed was the kind that could only be experienced when encased in solid stone.