Secret Sacrament by Sherryl Jordan

beneath his bare feet. He longed to go for a run but remembered Ferron’s request that he stay here. He walked a short distance out into the garden and noticed lamps between the trees, lighting the leaves to gold. Beyond the garden the smooth lawn ran down to a high wall built of white stone. Narrow steps were cut into the wall, leading up to a gap in the stones near the summit, obviously used as a lookout in times past. Gabriel glanced behind him but could see no one. Quickly, exulting in the beauty of the night and the softness of the grass beneath his feet, he ran across the lawn and climbed the steps. Reaching the top, he leaned on the stone barricade, and looked down.
    The view was breathtaking. Before him, lucid under the silver moon, lay the Citadel fields, gardens, orchards, and vineyards, all containedwithin high walls. Past those walls, out toward the east, were gently rolling hills and shadowy valleys. Beyond them stretched a great plain, bordered on the far side by mountains. The plain shone with prairie grass, and a silver river ran through it: the Shinali lands.
    Involuntarily Gabriel touched the bone carving that lay against his chest. His heart hammered, and his throat went tight. For a long time he stared at the grasslands, blue and serene under the moon. But he saw, too, the face of a woman, dark skinned and beautiful, and her hands reaching out to him, imploring, pleading. Guilt and nameless longings swept through him. Still with his hand on his chest, caressing the amulet, he went back down the steep stairs to the lawns and the lamp-lit garden. Later he slept in his unfamiliar bed, his fingers still about the Shinali bone.
    He dreamed of the silver river, and of paddling through the waters in a log canoe. He was sitting close behind a man whose naked back was brown and strong and who wore bone beads in his hair; and they chanted together as they paddled, their canoe swift and purposeful in the sunlit waters, between the singing lands.
    Gabriel came up out of the water, his heart pounding, his eyes blinded by the light thatflooded down from the shining tower above. Dimly he was aware of the Masters about him, quietly chanting; of someone drying his body and hair with a soft towel; of someone else putting a long crimson robe on him; of a sash being tied about his waist, and sandals being strapped on his feet. He glanced over his shoulder at the glittering golden pool and the shaft of sunlight that streamed down into it. On the other side stood the other two initiates, waiting. Looking up, he saw the soaring marble walls of the tower and the vast dome above, its pinnacle lost in light. Someone gave him a scroll of parchment on which were words, beautifully written. Dazzled, he could hardly see them.
    â€œThey are your vows, Gabriel,” said a voice. “You will say them aloud.”
    Gabriel stared at the words wavering like flames across the white. So much light . . .
    â€œGabriel?” The voice was Salverion’s. Gabriel blinked and saw the Grand Master standing in front of him. Salverion was smiling a little, his expression questioning. “Have you a difficulty with the vows, my son?”
    â€œNo, Master.”
    â€œWhen you’re ready, just read aloud what is written. Take all the time you need.”
    Gabriel looked at the parchment again and sawthat the words were now clear. In silence he read the vows through several times, accepting them, making them a part of his life. Only then did he say them aloud.
    â€œIn the Name of Sovereign God, I swear that I shall honor the sacred laws of compassion and respect for all life. I swear that I shall bow to the will of the Grand Masters, for as long as I live in the Citadel. I swear that I shall hold sacred in my heart all skills that I learn here, and never disclose them to another person; neither shall I use the Wisdoms for anything other than the free and loving service of healing. And, within the sacredness of that