Holding the torch aloft, Ruth stood at the door, peering through the cracks for any sign of movement. Beneath them, Mother Susana lay on her mat, looking like a bird that had unexpectedly dropped from its nest. Anna watched the quickened rise and fall of her narrow rib cage. Despite their ministrations, her breathing had become shallow. Anna feared that the next time she peered down, her breath would have ceased.

Ruth lifted two more seeds from her pouch. She placed them under Susana’s tongue. Lowering the torch, she sparked a small pile of dried herbs on the floor. The room filled with thick, spicy smoke. She came and sat next to Anna. “Let us join,” she said. Anna was unsure what to do as they held hands over Mother Susana. She remembered what Shereen had told her to do when working to heal someone.

Listen, she had said. But not just with your ears. Listen with your whole body.

Anna felt her soul expand and open to the two women before her. She sensed her own thoughts rushing out and theirs rushing in. Her fingertips buzzed and she knew that something of significance was passing among them.

Mother Susana’s eyes opened slowly as the women leaned over her. Her tongue worried at the seeds beneath it. She and Ruth linked eyes. The expressions on their faces widened with disbelief.

“I have seen things. Things I wish I could tell you,” the old woman said. “All has become clear. And I have seen the sycamore rising.”

Ruth nodded.

Anna looked from one to the other in confusion.

Was Susana hallucinating?

Susana continued to hold Ruth’s eyes. “The Way is in your hands, daughter,” she said.

“I understand,” Ruth whispered.

Anna wanted to protest. She wanted to say, No, Mother Susana. You will get better! The Way is still in your hands!

Mother Susana turned her eyes on the young shepherd. Anna melted beneath the benevolence of her gaze. The old woman lifted a shaky hand to her own throat. She struggled to pull Zahra’s medallion from inside her robe. “This was meant for you,” she told Anna.

Ruth helped the old woman place the chain over Anna’s head. Anna stared in disbelief.

Why should she be the one to wear the medallion? It was not right! She did not have the wisdom of an Awakener. She was not even truly a Sister!

Susana scooped Anna’s gaze into her own. “Wear it always. So that you will remember who you are, no matter who you must become,” she whispered. A wet cough hacked at the old woman’s chest. A trickle of blood spilled from her lips.

Anna did not understand.

What was happening? What did she mean?

A river of questions rose within her. She lifted the old woman’s hand, but as she did, it went limp. Anna’s own hand began to tingle.