The professor stopped outside one of the opposing doors and opened it. Without waiting for them to follow, she crossed the tidy study beyond, and put the fragment on a desk before turning to a tall bookcase beside it.

  “Close the door behind you,” she said, selecting a large hardcover as Jamie and Amanda came into the room behind her.

  The lecturer did as he was told before crossing to where the professor had laid the book on the desk beside the fragment.

  “Now,” Marie said, turning to Amanda and gesturing toward the fragment, “what do you see?”

  “I see a piece of pottery with a blue pattern on it,” Amanda replied. “Why?”

  Marie sighed.

  “Because I still see a grey pebble,” she replied, then turned to the lecturer, “And you, Jamie, what do you see?”

  “I see a pebble too,” Jamie replied.

  “Now,” Marie began, opening the book and beckoning for Amanda to come closer, “I need you to tell me when you see a pattern similar to the one on the fragment. Even if it only seems to match part of what you see, I want you to tell me.”

  The magic of the sword's song scratched inside Amanda's head making her feel irritable and cross. Why was the professor pretending that she could only see a pebble, when Amanda could see the fragment and its pattern clearly?

  She sighed and bent over the book, flicking past the red patterns, and the yellow patterns, slowing only when she reached the blue.

  Carefully, she ran her finger beneath each pattern as she studied it, comparing it to the one on the fragment.

  Let them have their games, she thought, I can afford to go along with that.

  The first page revealed nothing similar to the fragment's pattern. Amanda turned to the next. Beside her, she felt Marie stiffen as though holding her breath. Amanda moved her finger from one pattern to the next, then stopped half way down the page.

  “This one,” she said, after tracing over part of the book's pattern to make sure.

  Marie leant forward to look.

  “You're sure?”

  “Of course, I'm sure,” Amanda snapped.

  Marie ignored the sudden harshness in the girl's voice, and turned to the bookshelf again.

  “Where did you find it?”

  “Find what?” Amanda didn't feel like sharing her secret any more. She was even beginning to regret sharing the pottery pieces with the lecturer, or including the fragments in her experiment in the first place.

  “The pottery piece, Amanda.”

  Marie's voice was gentle, coaxing. She frowned over the girl's head at Jamie as he opened his mouth to rebuke the youngster's rudeness. With a shrug, he closed his mouth and watched.

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  “Why do you want to know?”

  “It would help me to identify it,” Marie answered.

  Amanda gave a reluctant sigh.

  “In my uncle's field.”

  “How did you come across it there?”

  Marie's voice was still gentle. Amanda shot a pleading glance at Jamie. He nodded at her encouragingly.

  “I was taking soil samples for my school project,” Amanda told her. “When I found it, I thought it would make the project more interesting.”

  “Have you shown it to anyone else besides us?”

  “My teacher,” Amanda replied sulkily.

  “And what did he see?” Marie pressed.

  “My teacher saw a pottery fragment just like he did,” Amanda snapped, pointing at Jamie.

  Marie frowned, selecting another book from the shelf.

  “Are you sure you showed no one else?” she asked.

  “My uncle,” Amanda allowed, then she scowled. “He said he saw a pretty rock. I thought he was joking.”

  “Does he often joke?” the professor asked.

  Amanda thought for a moment.

  “No,” she said at last.

  Marie's frown did not fade as she leafed through the pages of the book she had selected. Gradually her page-turning slowed, became more a search, and stopped. She turned, with the book still open before her, to the fragment on the desk.

  “Ferethet,” she commanded, speaking directly at it.

  Amanda watched, recoiling in horror, as the pattern gleamed a malevolent blue then, still gleaming, seemed to lift from the fragment's surface. It hung in the air for a moment before exploding into shards, too painfully bright to see.

  Behind her, Amanda heard Jamie's exclamation of surprise. Marie sighed in satisfaction.

  “Ah, now I can see what all the excitement was about,” she purred, “and a nice piece of pottery it is too.”

  She lifted it carefully between forefinger and thumb and held it before her. Amanda was surprised to still see the shimmer of blue pattern on its surface. She watched as the professor examined it, and waited for the woman's verdict.

  Marie picked up an eye magnifier and looked over the fragment a second time before turning to Amanda.

  “I could tell you where it came from,” she said, “but you would lose marks in your project for what would be considered a preposterous piece of imagination.”

  “Tell me anyway,” Amanda said.

  Marie drew a short breath.

  “You wouldn't believe me,” she answered.

  Again, the fragments of sword-song rang in Amanda's head.

  “Tell me,” she growled.

  Marie looked at her in much the same way she had regarded the fragment.

  “It's a piece of pottery brought here by the Garathians,” she said. “You wouldn't have heard of them. They're a race not recognized by many scientists. They spent most of their time living amongst other cultures; hiding is my theory, and developing their...plots, in secret.”

  Jamie snorted, and then turned reproachful eyes to the professor.

  “Marie,” he began, “you can't go around telling your own private brand of fairy tale. I've only heard of the Garathians from one other person and he's in an asylum now.”

  Marie's eyes became dark with sorrow. The song whispered its music with sudden, joyous victory in Amanda's mind. Suddenly she didn't feel as irritable any more.

  “That was Marcus,” Marie said. “I would have thought that you...”

  “I'm sorry,” Jamie said. “I shouldn't have brought him into this. It's just that I never...”

  “Well, you should have,” Marie snapped. “If you had, maybe, but no...” Her voice softened. “That isn't fair, either.”

  They were quiet then, remembering Marcus and whatever he had meant to them. The song stirred into irritation once more.

  “If the Garathians are only a figment of someone's imagination,” Amanda snapped, “where did the fragment come from?”

  Marie looked at her and sighed.

  “I couldn't say,” she answered.

  Amanda looked at her, then at the fragment.

  “Then what do I tell my teacher?” the girl demanded.

  “You could say it's a piece of earthenware used...” Marie paused. “No, that would never do.”

  “I think I know a way of making it acceptable,” Jamie spoke. “We could run an excavation of the site.”

  Marie looked at him, and shook her head.

  “No, I don't think so,” she said. “Some things are better left buried.”

  “I think it's a little late for that,” Jamie replied.

  Marie glanced at him sharply.

  “What do you mean?”

  The song roared a warning in Amanda's head.

  “Nothing,” she said. “He means nothing by it.”

  “I mean the results of your experiment,” Jamie told her, pulling the sheaf of notes from his jacket. “Here, Marie, take a look at these.”