The idea is this: Covered in straw, the wheel is lit on fire and then rolled by the men and the boys down a hill to a nearby stream. The object is for the wheel to reach the water before the fire goes out, though, she is told, this has happened only once in thirty years. If the men succeed, the harvest will be plentiful, the village prosperous. If it doesn’t, well, then everyone shall have to pray harder and listen more closely to the priest’s sermons.

The wheel did not make it to the stream. The fire went out, and the crowd groaned. In the night air, there was the smell of smoke.

She thinks of the wheel’s shape, how life, too, tends to move in circles: Her father is cruel to her, thrashes her; she runs away. She returns home, is beaten again. She sleeps and has nightmares about Guillaume.

But sometimes the circle breaks. There is a pause, a lull, and in that lull is when angels grant wishes, saints sign off on prayers, and God arches His ear, listens, and nods. When the pattern of daily life skips a beat, that is when a poor man may stumble upon a cave full of treasures, by luck, by accident, or a twist of fate. That is when the fever of an ailing child breaks or the force of an unstoppable army falters before it fails.

Today, for a few hours, the circle has paused its cycle of beatings, of misery. And into the lull she has had a taste of good fortune. At her feet is the goose, which now feels more like a pet, and each bump of the road makes the coins in her pocket jangle like the shirt of mail from the armorer’s.

The Duke thinks he came away with the better deal, but Joan knows he is wrong. She is saving the best for last. When they reach Domrémy, she pulls the ring out of her pocket and offers it to Catherine. She wants to see her sister’s face.

But Catherine shakes her head. She has been quiet the whole journey back. Joan does not have to ask, What is it, what ails you, tell me. She already knows. They do not have to speak to understand what pains the other, for pain has followed them, like a shadow sibling, their whole lives. She knows Catherine is ashamed for losing sight of her at the fair. She knows she is worth more to her sister than a whole kingdom full of jewels.