There Comes A Prophet by David Litwack

cares about the girl."
    ***
    Nathaniel stood again on the mark at the center of the room and looked up at the vicars. It had only been a few hours.
    "Nathaniel of Little Pond." The speaker proclaimed. "We have decided to grant your wish. The girl will be sent home."
    Nathaniel's spirit soared. He'd done it-Orah would be set free. He was so elated he almost missed what came next. The vicar was still speaking. He quieted his thoughts and tried to concentrate. But as he listened, the words dragged him down as if he'd been cast into the cell beneath his feet.
    "There's one condition. We find you to be a fine man, eager to learn of our ways. Rather than a teaching, we believe you might better serve the light by becoming an envoy of the Temple."
    An envoy of the Temple? He couldn't mean... "I don't understand, holiness."
    "Then let me be more specific. We're offering you the opportunity to be trained in the seminary and become a vicar."
    "But... I'm just a boy from a small village."
    "Not a boy, a man of age who has asked for a teaching. We offer you more-the chance to serve your people in addition to helping your friend. What do you say?"
    "But, sir, I... ."
    "We know it's a difficult decision. While serving the Temple is a great honor, it's also a lifelong commitment. Once you've chosen this path, you cannot step off it."
    "But there must be another way."
    "There is no other. If you agree, you'll be given a week to go home and settle your affairs before returning to Temple City. If not, the teaching of your friend will resume. You have two days to decide. In the meantime, you'll remain our guest." He leaned forward for emphasis. "Two days."
    He rose to leave, but Nathaniel called him back. "I'll consider it, holiness. But only if my friend may join me while I decide."
    The younger vicars snapped around in astonishment, but the arch vicar seemed amused.
    "Very well, Nathaniel of Little Pond. While her teaching awaits, she'll be allowed to share meals with you. It may help you choose the right path."
    Nathaniel stammered. What more could he say? But the audience had ended. The arch vicar dismissed him with a flip of his hand and the deacons returned him to his cell.

Chapter Ten
    The Keeper
    A scrape at the peephole intruded on Nathaniel's thoughts. His neighbor's presence annoyed him, and he had no desire to talk.
    "Leave me alone."
    "I'm sorry you came back," the old man said. "I hoped you'd tell them what they wanted and go home."
    Though it was intended kindly, Nathaniel waved him off. He heard the old man shuffle to the hole to look, then put the slate back into place and hobble away.
    Nathaniel slumped on the bed, fist buried in his cheek. He'd rushed from here to there, convinced he'd do anything to help Orah. But what had he accomplished? He'd been dealt an impossible choice-commit to the Temple or send Orah back to the darkness. Either would haunt him the rest of his days.
    He had nothing to eat since arriving at Temple City. Food was farthest from his mind, but his stomach knew better. Just as it started to growl, the door unlocked and a young deacon brought in a tray. The meal was simple-brown bread, apples and goat cheese-but Nathaniel was relieved to see it was enough for two. Moments later, Orah was ushered into the room.
    She was coated with dust from head to toe, but her spirit seemed intact.
    "Nathaniel of Little Pond," she said. "And here I expected to have lunch with the grand vicar."
    He gestured at the tray. "I thought I'd arrange a picnic for us."
    The two took measure of each other. Seeing her there made his choice all the more burdensome. He couldn't help but imagine her in the same state as Thomas at festival. No words seemed appropriate, and every attempt caught in his throat.
    Orah seemed to sense his mood. "Why are you here, Nathaniel? Have they taken us both for a teaching?"
    She'd see through any attempt at evasion, but he tried anyway.
    "I came to rescue you. I offered to replace you in the teaching,