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surfaces gave off a heavenly glow. Kalin made her way through the maze of stones, carrying Hayley’s muslin-wrapped body as if she weighed no more than a wilted flower. The stiffness of death had worn off. The sight brought back all of the guilt Taris had felt two nights ago when he watched her die.
    “Please let me take her.” His voice was a dull, ragged whisper. Kalin wouldn’t meet his eyes. She simply shook her head and leaned over the edge of the tomb, gently placing Hayley’s body on the petal bed. As she backed away, he could see the redness of her eyes, the hollow gauntness of her cheeks.
    He made quick work of the ceremony, stopping only a few times to make sure Kalin was not going to fall over from exhaustion. Once the rites had been read and the prayers offered, Taris placed the crest on Hayley’s chest. It was a large piece, about the size of a small jar lid. Intricately carved into its metallic flesh was an odd creature. It had two heads, both of which looked like lions. Its body was small, almost like a goat or a ram. It had the tail of a serpent, and from its mouth emanated a brilliant fire that surrounded it completely. Kalin looked away as he placed the prized medallion over her heart.
    Kalin couldn’t take much more of the ceremony. Sensing her distress, Taris quickly placed a torch next to Hayley’s body and was blissfully relieved when it caught immediately. The oils and powders that Kalin had applied to Hayley acted as a catalyst for the flames, and in no time, the entire length and width of the stone box was filled with their burning heat. Kalin watched them lick the edges of the box. She could see bits of ash and loam drifting into the air, carried away by the blustery wind.
    “Kalin, I have to push the stone.” Taris ran a hand through his hair and tried to make her look at him. She didn’t. She wouldn’t. All she did was nod. He pulled his long, leather trench tighter around his wide shoulders before placing his hands on either side of the block. He effortlessly pushed it into place, sealing the remaining flames and smoke into the tomb with the scraping sound of stone on stone. Kalin turned her face toward the black, rolling clouds overhead and took in a deep breath. The wind was whipping her long black locks around her face.
    “I took the liberty of carving her stone this morning.” She slowly brought her head back down at Taris’ voice. For the first time since the night Hayley died, she actually looked him in the eyes. His hands were still braced against the stone. “I wanted this to be real, not just for her but for you, so…” His voice drifted off, and he stepped away from the block, walking through the tombs and down the slope toward the house. He could hear the rustle of Kalin’s black taffeta mourning gown draw closer to the stone, and his heart dropped down into his stomach when he heard her breath catch. He didn’t turn around because he knew she was crying. He could feel it.
    “She was your daughter, Kalin. Whether you brought her into being or not, she was yours. I didn’t put anything on there that wasn’t true.”
    Kalin’s delicate hand ran over the letters that were chiseled out of the marble, every one more beautiful and thrilling than the one before. Carved in the old Anglo-Saxon dialect that both she and Taris spoke from birth were the words Kalin never thought she would read in her lifetime. They were the words she felt deep down in her soul but could never have asked Taris to engrave into the marble. She placed her face down to the hot stone and absorbed them, felt them enter her body as if they were living, breathing beings. Her eyes fixed on the words, she mouthed them as she read them again:
    Entombed and sent by fire to God, here rests Hayley
.
    Daughter of Kalin of the House of Bhalthair
,
    In noble sacrifice, she did give her body
,
    For the prosperity of her people
.
    Kalin turned from the stone, wiping away a tear as she looked at her brother. She