Misplaced (35 page)

Th
e
windin
g
road
s
o
f
th
e
neighborhoo
d
ha
d
becom
e
familiar
.
Th
e
resoundin
g
musi
c
urge
d
he
r
fee
t
o
n
pas
t
nea
t
rows
o
f
white-plastere
d
house
s
an
d
a
corne
r
fiel
d
wher
e
children
pla
y
e
d
wit
h
a
ball
.
Som
e
thing
s
ne
v
e
r
change
,
sh
e
mused
.
She
grinne
d
a
t
th
e
shoutin
g
children
,
an
d
on
e
pause
d
t
o
w
a
v
e
at
her.
W
atching
them,
she
remembered
the
times
when
she
and
Menefra
had
pla
y
ed
hide-and-seek
in
the
cliffs
until
they
w
ere
too
tired
to
take
another
step
and
lay
outstretched
on
the
w
arm
sand.

S
o
o
n
a
han
ds
o
m
el
y
d
e
co
rate
d
s
ton
e
buil
d
in
g
c
a
m
e
into
view
.
Arrivin
g
a
t
th
e
statel
y
woode
n
door
,
Khar
a
fel
t
a
moment
o
f
triumph
.
I
t
passe
d
quickly
,
ho
w
e
v
er
,
an
d
i
t
w
a
s
wit
h
cautious
steps that she crossed the threshold of the imposing hall.

Th
e
larg
e
chambe
r
w
a
s
cool
,
bu
t
begge
d
fo
r
fres
h
air.
Proceedin
g
w
arily
,
he
r
attentio
n
w
a
s
immediatel
y
draw
n
to
th
e
je
w
el-colore
d
window
s
hig
h
abo
v
e
;
th
e
filtere
d
ray
s
of
su
n
tha
t
crep
t
acros
s
th
e
floo
r
an
d
spille
d
int
o
dar
k
corners.
Ahead
,
a
sculptur
e
o
f
a
s
w
eet-face
d
woma
n
i
n
a
ligh
t
blu
e
cloak
compelle
d
he
r
t
o
cros
s
th
e
gre
y
ston
e
floor
.
Suc
h
gentleness
meant
she
w
as
undoubtedly
a
goddess
of
women,
fertility,
or
perhaps
motherhood.
Lost
in
thought,
she
had
almost
reached
th
e
alta
r
whe
n
sh
e
suddenl
y
behel
d
a
visio
n
o
f
sorrow
.
He
r
legs
turned
to
mud,
forcing
her
onto
one
of
the
benches
that
filled
the hall.

The
suffering
and
acquiescence
in
this
statue’s
face
tore
at
her
soul
in
the
same
w
ay
thinking
of
her
father
did.
Surely
he
w
as
not
a
god;
gods
w
ere
majestic
and
unemotional,
w
arriors
an
d
seducers
.
An
d
mos
t
o
f
all
,
the
y
w
er
e
invincible
.
How
could
she
expect
guidance
from
this
wounded
being
strapped
t
o
a
post
?
Khar
a
reste
d
he
r
arm
s
o
n
th
e
pe
w
befor
e
he
r
and
contemplated the tortured face.

“
Y
ou seem troubled,” a voice said quietly from behind her.
Sh
e
w
a
s
no
t
a
s
startle
d
b
y
th
e
ma
n
wh
o
sa
t
nex
t
t
o
he
r
as
she
would
normally
ha
v
e
been.
Where
he
came
from
she
could
not
say,
but
his
w
as
the
most
agreeable
face
she
had
e
v
er
seen.
He
w
as
dressed
in
long
black
robes
that
complimented
his
pale
ski
n
an
d
e
y
e
s
th
e
colo
r
o
f
rip
e
dates
.
Hi
s
dar
k
hai
r
w
a
s
short
an
d
neatl
y
place
d
agains
t
hi
s
head
.
Whe
n
h
e
smiled
,
sh
e
felt
strangely comforted.

“Where am I?” she asked, unable to lo
w
er her gaze.

He
smiled
and
looked
with
adoration
at
the
face
in
agony.
“In the house of the Lord.”

“Which lord?”

“I
be
g
you
r
pardon
?
Ar
e
you
…
Aha!
”
Hi
s
e
y
e
s
flashed
merrily.
“I
get
it!
Brother
Eloy
sent
you!”
He
muffled
his
laugh
wit
h
a
hand
.
“H
e
o
w
e
s
m
e
a
prank
.
I’
ve
bee
n
w
aitin
g
for
retaliation for almost two
w
eeks, but so far nothing.”

He
r
disappointmen
t
i
n
realizin
g
tha
t
h
e
though
t
o
f
he
r
as
som
e
sor
t
o
f
tric
k
w
a
s
reflecte
d
i
n
he
r
disdainfu
l
reply
;
“N
o
one
sent me.”