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ancestors a thousand years ago, who gave them food and healed the terrible wounds inflicted by Middoth’s brutal followers.” Bahir’s voice increased in volume to boom through the rocky temple.
    “Let the name of Jekutiel be blessed forever and to all eternity.”
    “May her name be praised and extolled, exalted and honored as the great tool of Epagael. The tool that conquered wickedness.” Bahir raised a fist and it cast a huge dark shadow against the wall behind him, wavering in the candlelight. “It was Jekutiel who destroyed Aktariel’s evil emissary, Middoth.”
    A shiver played along Zadok’s spine, a shiver of memories, of ancient stories, a longing that this feeling of community might last forever. He stole glances at the people around him. Their faces gleamed with faith and reverence, particularly Ezarin’s.
    “He who makes peace in the high places, may he make peace for us and for all Gamants. Amayne.”
    At the mention of Aktariel, Mikael’s breathing quickened. Zadok patted him gently on the back. Leaning down, he asked, “What’s wrong?”
    “Aktariel’s a wicked angel who fell from heaven.”
    “Yes, very wicked. He comes to deceive and destroy us.”
    Mikael shifted positions, getting on his knees so he could get closer to Zadok’s face. “And he’ll send another emissary, won’t he, Grandfather? Like Middoth. He’ll come and—”
    “No.” Zadok frowned. Where could the child have gotten such a notion? He’d have to check on those Shabbat Boker religious teachers and their lessons. “No, don’t worry. Middoth was the last, Mikael. The old books tell us that now the true Mashiah will come to rescue us from the brutality of the Galactic Magistrates.”
    “But I think maybe Aktariel himself might come, Grandfather. What if—”
    “Shhh.” Zadok stroked his dark hair, but the boy’s words wrought a pang from his heart. “Don’t think such things, Mikael. God would not punish us so.”
    “But what if it’s a final test?”
    “We’ve had too many tests already, Grandson. Surely Epagael knows our faith by now.”
    Mikael dropped his gaze, confusion on his face. “But maybe not.”
    “Believe me. You don’t have to worry. Remember, I’ve talked to Epagael and He never mentioned—”
    “I had a dream last night, Grandfather. In it Aktariel swooped down and …”
    A shuffling of feet came from the cave entrance outside and a man entered the temple. The gold stitching of his long robe reflected the light, glistening as if he were sprinkled with filaments of fire. His white hair and closely cropped beard accented his pointed nose. The stranger’s eyes searched the temple meticulously, going over each candle-lit section of the crowded pews. As he turned, Zadok recognized him.
    “Rathanial?” he called softly, waving a withered hand.
    “Zadok, thank God.” Sliding in beside Ezarin, Rathanial formed his hands into the sacred triangle of greeting, which Zadok matched.
    “Old friend, how good to see you at this celebration. It’s been so long—”
    “Zadok, we must talk immediately.” Fear stained his withered face, a hard glitter in his black eyes. “A new Mashiah has arisen on Horeb and we’re—”
    “Another false prophet?” Ezarin quipped sarcastically. “They always start wars. I think they should all be hanged.” Standing up, she slid out in front of Rathanial. “Excuse me, I have a grand entrance to make.”
    Zadok smiled warmly, watching her leave. “Getting back to your subject, Rathanial. Do I take it things are not well on Horeb?”
    Rathanial exhaled heavily. “Not well at all. The new Mashiah is gaining popularity. The planet is under siege from within. We’ve—”
    “Under siege?”
    “Yes, a rebel faction has arisen and—”
    Rev Bahir’s voice rose suddenly, repeating for the third time, “I will sing unto the Eternal for he hath manifested loving kindness unto me!”
    Zadok held up a hand to halt Rathanial’s recitation and looked toward