Everything was made from soft-colored stone, almost the same color as the beach near Nor Esen. There were no other colors: no tapestries, no rugs, not even a painting.

Doors lined either side of the main hall, each one opening into smaller rooms. The air was cool and smelled like aged herbs and wood. Soft voices echoed through the hall, and every once in a while a monk would emerge from one of the rooms, carrying a tome or a scroll. They would glance at Selene, then carry on with their work.

“This way,” the stout monk said, and he led Selene and Karl to the other side of the abbey. Beneath the staircase was a set of doors unlike the others. The monk opened one of the doors and ushered them in. “Cohen is with Father Dominick today.”

The room was bare, with only a wooden table in the middle and a bench on either side. Two men sat at the other end, near three arched windows overlooking pine trees.

Selene recognized Cohen’s thick, wheat-colored hair. The other man was old and thin, his head mainly bald save for a couple strands of wispy white hair. Both were dressed in the same mahogany robes and wore golden chains around their necks. They glanced over as the door opened, and Cohen smiled broadly the moment he spotted Selene.

The stout monk bowed. “Father, please excuse my interruption. Lady Maris has graced us with her presence today. She said she wished to see Brother Cohen.”

Cohen and Father Dominick stood. “Lady Maris,” the older man said. “Welcome to Baris Abbey.”

Selene walked across the room. “Thank you, Father Dominick.”

His warm brown eyes studied her. “Yes, yes,” he said quietly. “You have the makings of a great lady and will be a strength to Lord Damien in the days ahead.”

Selene blinked, but before she could say anything, Father Dominick stepped around the bench. “You may visit with Brother Cohen in here. I am needed in the repository. I look forward to seeing who you become, my lady.” He glanced at the stout monk. “Brother Maelor, please follow me.”

“Yes, Father.”

Selene watched the two monks cross the room and leave through the door before turning toward Cohen. “What did Father Dominick mean?”

Cohen shrugged. “There are times Father Dominick speaks in riddles, as if he can see more than we can but cannot share exactly what he sees.”

Selene cocked her head to the side. “Is that because of his position as abbot?”

“Yes. The Light speaks to him.”

Her eyes lit up. “Does the Light speak to you as well?”

Cohen ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stand on end. “Kind of. But not directly, not like Father Dominick. Anyway, welcome, Lady Selene, to our humble abbey. I’m afraid we don’t have much to offer, but if you wish, feel free to take a seat, and I will procure some tea from the kitchen.”

Selene dipped her head. “Thank you, Cohen.”