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fingertips slipped on the corners of the lid, causing the priest’s grip to falter. The lid fell with a lurching crash, solid gold. So what? Gold would not free Hyacinthe from his isle, and I did not need to be told that I had spent my one and only chance. I bowed my head and tasted the bitter fruit of failure. The voice between the cherubim had remained silent, but the Luvakh Shabab had spoken. Adonai had answered. He would not speak twice. Knowledge had failed me, and it was bitter, bitter indeed.
    I should be glad, I thought, that I had tongue left to taste defeat.
    I took a deep breath and raised my head to confront my failure.
    On the far side of the Ark, his face framed betwixt the silent cherubim, the priest of Aaron’s line was smiling. Neither young nor old, he was smiling; smiling, he who had aided me in raising the Kapporeth to no avail. I stared dumbly at him, uncomprehending. A man, a mortal man, with an unruly beard and kind eyes, radiant with joy. Why? His smiling teeth were strong and white, framing the cavern of his shriveled tongue. Such compassion, in his dark gaze; and such joy, such unbearable joy. I wanted to ask why, but fear stopped my mouth. It hurt too much to hope, now.
    Silence filled the Holiest of Holies. No stir, no echo, no whisper of sound. Even the flames stood silent and motionless in the golden lamp-stands. And in the deafening silence ...
    Tongueless and unvoiced, the priest spoke the unpronounceable Name of God.
    “________________!”
    How does one endure a sound not meant for mortal ears to bear? It burst within the confines of my skull like thunder over the mountains, rolling and brazen, setting off clamorous echoes. A word, one word, seared upon my memory. It burned in me like strong wine, like the first taste of joie I had known as a child, like Melisande’s touch. I knew it all, then, saw my course mapped, from the moment I had glimpsed Anafiel Delaunay, all down the winding path that had led me here-here, to a humble temple on a hidden isle, surrounded by a goddess’ grief. Who could have charted this course? The myriad branchings of my fate were foreordained and unknowable. Along dark paths, they had led me here. Here. I understood it all, and grasped at last the whole of the pattern. I gasped for air, feeling my chest like to crack open, streaming flames. The Sacred Name! I was too small to contain it. My knees gave way beneath me and I sank to the earthen floor, curling my body around the space it hollowed within me.
    The Name of God.
    The Name of God.
    Oh, Hyacinthe !
    How long I laid upon the floor, I cannot say. I would have laid there forever, I think, if the priest had not roused me. His hands were gentle, insistent, shaking my shoulders. His eyes were kind. I could smell the dusty soil of the temple floor, and the pall of incense. I could smell the peppers he’d had for dinner. I was alive, gravid with the Sacred Name. My body felt strange to me as the priest helped me to my feet. All the space in my mind was taken up by the Name. It swelled the cords of my throat, and I had to clench my teeth to keep from speaking it.
    It would have destroyed me had I not found a place within myself where naught but love abided, simple and unencumbered. Only then had the priest, in his wisdom, opened the door. I marveled at the symmetry of the pattern. If I had not brought Imri out of the darkness of Daršanga, this brightness would never have come to pass. Truly, love was a wondrous force, now that I perceived the complexities of its workings.
    Everything in the temple seemed distinct, objects standing out bright against the darkness. I had trouble gauging distances. I touched a lamp-stand, marveling at the smoothness of gold. Freed from stasis, the flame in its bowl danced like a little animal, flickering saffron. I put my fingers close to it, feeling its warmth burn. I would have touched it too, if the priest had not put his hand on my wrist, drawing me away and shaking his head gently. He pointed toward the distant door in inquiry. Was I ready to leave?
    I nodded my head, not daring to speak. The Name was insistent on my tongue.
    He led me into the outer circle, and there I sat upon a marble bench to don my shoes. I felt the cool surface of the marble, the tiny veins and flaws. I gazed at my bare feet, slender and white, engrained with dirt from the temple floor. So many delicate bones, articulated joints! All of that, all for the purpose of treading the earth. I put on