That night, too tired to build even a small fire, she rolled onto her back and considered the vast dome above her. Tears welled in her eyes, extending bright legs from each star like lighted sea urchins. She had come to the desert seeking something. Answers? Guidance? Yet all she felt was aimless and alone. The lone wolf sighed again into the sky. The sound broke her heart.

“What am I to do?” she bellowed into the cold night. “Great Mother, why do you not answer me?”

Anna’s heart sank with the knowledge that she had disappointed all those she loved.

Had she not failed to protect the Sisters? And Mother Susana? And Zahra? Even her own mother?

She felt utterly unredeemable.

Her mind heaved like a heavy door and opened onto the darkest human thought. She no longer wanted to breathe. She no longer wanted to see. All that loomed before her eyes was death. She wished suddenly that she had never come into life.

My poor daughter! I wish that you had never been born.

Without warning, a galloping herd of sobs shook her body. From the wells of her eyes and throat and ears leaked the poisons inside her—anger, shame, confusion, regret, grief, and fear—all spilled onto the sand and were instantly absorbed. She curled into a ball and was wracked with even greater sobs until, many hours later, a final, feeble moan escaped her lips.

Lying against the cool sand, her face damp and raw, Anna stared into the stars with relief and wonder. A cool breeze floated over her skin. She felt rinsed from within. She noticed that the stars were closer and brighter than ever. Communion came quickly and without effort. She rose toward the heavens. Her limbs separated from her body and dissolved into the limitless space around her. No longer could she discern the distinction between skin and starlight, breath and wind. Everything, she felt, had become a part of the other. The sensation of floating into the world seemed suddenly funny and she laughed aloud.

It was then that she heard the whistle. The sound was faint at first. And high-pitched. Too high-pitched, she thought, to be human.

An animal?

Her being returned solidly to earth. She stood and directed her every sense toward the sound. It came again, carried on the breeze. She walked toward the whistle as it quivered in the air. When it grew louder, seeming to rise almost from beneath her, she scanned frantically for the source, but saw nothing. With a whoosh, the ground gave way beneath her feet and she plummeted down a sharp slope. Her fall ended quickly, leaving her on her back. Stunned, she kept still, mentally searching to determine if she had broken any bones. A breeze rolled up her robe and the whistle again pierced her ears. She turned her head and came face to face with a shepherd. She leapt to her feet and bellowed in fear.