But then, at last, the prince raised his hand and gestured toward the grave. In response, the magowie came to a stuttering halt, and the four warriors who’d acted as pallbearers stepped forward, two on each side of Tom’s coffin. There were two ropes beneath it, and using these, they took up positions near the grave and began to lower it down. They were having difficulty holding on to the rope, which kept slipping through their fingers.

The coffin wasn’t going into the grave evenly. At one point they almost lost it, but at last it splashed into the water at the bottom of the pit, and they pulled the ropes free. I saw that the coffin was almost covered by the rainwater that had accumulated.

I was surprised when the four men then picked up spades and began to fill in the grave. The custom back in the County was for each mourner to throw a handful of soil over the coffin and then leave; the gravediggers only began their work when everybody else had left.

So, with lightning flashing and thunder crashing overhead, we all watched the men working: rain ran down their faces and dripped from the ends of their noses as they hastily threw sodden earth onto their wooden target.

Then I heard another sound—an eerie screech from almost directly overhead. I looked up, and the flash of lightning blinded me for a few seconds. When I could see again, I noticed that everyone else around the grave was looking upward, shielding their eyes against the driving rain. Even the four men had stopped work.

There was a figure up there, high above us. I could make out wings—huge wings, compared to the slender body. It was the being we had watched hovering over us while the three magowie foretold the coming of a champion to defeat the Shaiksa assassin and lead humans across the river to victory.

It hovered there, but suddenly folded its white wings and dropped down toward us like a stone. When it came to a halt, it was less than thirty feet above our heads—near enough for me to make out the beautiful face shining with silver light.

But then I was distracted by another noise, which drew my eyes downward.

I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, but I wasn’t the only person now staring down into the grave. The casket was slightly tilted, and the sodden earth that covered it was sliding away to reveal the wet wooden surface.

Grimalkin hissed in anger and stared up at the winged being . . . but I was filled with new hope.

The coffin was moving.

Could it be that Tom was alive?

Grimalkin’s Notes

The Contents of the Glass Containers

THESE are all biological, and in most cases held within some preserving material, usually a gel. Some are seeds; others animal (mammalian or reptilian samples plus hybrids).

Many are still alive, held in a state of suspended animation. I believe that, if planted, the seeds would grow. The same is probably also true of the animal samples. (I tested only three, which confirmed this.) They are all capable of development and growth, but into what I cannot say without further dangerous experimentation.