EPHER

He lost track of days and nights on the wall, trying to hold back the legions from the Mount of Cedars. Sometimes, in darkness, he slept in one of the chambers built into the fortresses that lined the walls. Sometimes, for brief moments, he walked among his men, comforting the dying. Mostly he fought. The defenders had no more arrows; they shot sharpened sticks carved from the olive and cedar trees. They had no more round, polished sling stones; they fired whatever rocks they found. They were like children, helpless, as the legions pounded at the walls day and night. Shattering bricks. Ramming into gates. And Epher knew that it would not be long. Another hour. Maybe another day. And Claudia would enter the Mount, leading tens of thousands, and they would meet again.

It was dark and the stars shone. Panting and aching, Epher climbed off the wall for a brief rest, letting another man take his place. Only a thousand warriors remained—a thousand against the might of an empire. He walked down a path and into Tarath El, a fortress built into the Mount's protective wall. He had wanted Olive to come with him, but his wife had insisted on staying on the wall, fighting for a few more hours.

"This siege might not last much longer," she had said with a weary grin. "Let me kill a few more."

Epher walked alone down the fortress corridor, climbed stairs, and entered his chamber—a humble stone cell with a simple bed.

Maya was waiting there, sitting on the bed.

Epher's heart twisted. Maya looked worse than ever, even worse than her time in the houses of healing. Her skin was sallow, her face—once round and soft—gaunt and aged. Her eyes were sunken but still large, still full of kindness, but there were new shadows there too, a new weight upon her shoulders.

"I have to leave for a while," she whispered.

Epher narrowed his eyes. He stepped closer and knelt before his sister. "What do you mean?"

Tears streamed down Maya's cheeks. She touched his cheek. "Epher, do you remember the villa on Pine Hill?"

He frowned. "Maya, what is this about?"

She smiled tremulously, tears on her lips. "I remember Lel Urim. It was always my favorite holiday. I remember how it was so dark in the house, all our lanterns turned off. How we walked through the rooms and hallways with candles, marching in a row from oldest to youngest. You walked in the front, then Koren, then Atalia, then Ofeer, then me. I used to always light a sixth candle, do you remember? For Mica. And we'd walk through the house, climb the stairs, go into the cellar and garden, and cast back the shadows with our light and song. Do you remember?"

Epher nodded, still kneeling before her. "Of course."

Fresh tears flowed. "That's what I tried to do, Epher. To cast back a little shadow with a candle. If you see the house again, if you return to Pine Hill, remember to light a candle for me too."

He grabbed her. He pulled her up, staring into her eyes. "I don't like this. What are you talking about?"

"About home. About our family." Maya leaned her head against his chest. "I love you, Epher. I love you and everyone. But I have to leave for a little while, because every light casts a shadow, and my light burns too brightly." She looked back up at him, and her fingers tightened around his arms. "There are seven gates in the walls of Beth Eloh, and there is an eighth gate within the city center. In the Holy of Holies, inside the Temple, a place forbidden to all but the High Priest, there stands the Gate of Tears. It's through there that I entered the city, through there that I must leave. If the walls of the Mount fall, seek hope there. Seek light in those shadows."

"Maya." He tightened his grip on her. "Enough with this madness. You're staying here. With me. With us."

She shook her head. "I cannot stay. I pray that someday you'll understand, Epher. That I do not abandon you, but that I love you. That I will always love you. That Zohar will always be my home." She held him close. "Goodbye, my older brother, my guiding light."

She kissed his cheek, and she turned to leave the chamber. Epher followed her into the fortress hall, to the archway that led into the city. She passed out from the shadowy fortress onto the Mount. He wanted to follow her, to grab her, to shout, to demand she stay. But he could only stand at the doorway, watching her walk uphill between the cypresses, and it seemed to him that Maya floated, a figure of light, and he wondered whether he gazed upon his living sister or a ghost. He stood watching her until she vanished into the night.