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intensified so Rachel wore her dark cloak. With her she brought a basket of food.
    She stumbled and nearly fell over the brush at the top of the trail. Devon stepped out of the shadows and caught her. Rachel stifled a cry. He took the basket and guided her to their usual place beside the pine.
    “I worried that you wouldn’t come,” said Devon.
    “It was a long meeting,” said Rachel. “Elder Micah’s sermon went on forever. But that’s not important.” She tilted her head up and kissed him happily.
    Devon said, “What’s happened? You’re excited.”
    “The Elders met, Devon. They’ve decided you can end your exile and come back to Cypress Corners.”
    Devon said nothing.
    “What’s the matter?” said Rachel. “You can go home now.”
    He laughed bitterly. “I have no home.”
    She said, “The farm of Old Devon—”
    “What farm? I should rebuild it out of the ashes?”
    “Everyone will help. Of course you can build it again.”
    “And have to end up beholding to the likes of Elder Jubal and Elder Micah? I’d rather stay here in the hills.”
    She clung to him. “Don’t say that, Devon. Your home is down there. When Elder Jubal comes up here on the morrow to deliver your summons, accompany him back to Cypress Corners.”
    “What about you?” Devon said. “My home is down there only if it’s with you.”
    “Don’t say that. I’m bringing you good news and you try to hurt me.”
    “No,” he said, stroking her hair. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
    “Then will you think about the Elders’ summons?”
    After a while he slowly nodded.
    “Now let’s talk about something else,” Rachel said.
    “Anything?”
    “Anything.”
    He told her about his latest dream, judiciously editing out some of the details. Devon attempted to describe the vistas he had glimpsed and the strange, giant structures that dwarfed even Cypress Corners; but words came disjointedly, failed him, and he wished he could show her. All the same, it disappointed him when Rachel seemed to shuffle aside the true wonders of what his mind had seen.
    “I was there in your dream?” she said.
    “It was no other.”
    “And I held out my arms to you?”
    “As though you wished me to come.”
    She said, “And you did not?”
    “I couldn’t. I came closer and you moved away.”
    “That’s odd,” she murmured. “You did not move away when...” Her voice trailed off.
    “When what?”
    Glad for the mask of tree-filtered moonlight, Rachel said, “I was visited last night.”
    “By what?”
    “My parents and the Elders would say an incubus, a night demon.”
    “And what would you say?”
    She shook her head. “It took your form as I lay asleep.” She hesitated. “I cannot call it a demon.”
    Devon smiled. “You dreamed of me.”
    “Indeed,” Rachel said quietly.
    “Was it pleasant?”
    Again, hesitation. “Yes.”
    “Was it pleasurable?”
    “It was sinful.”
    Devon considered the distinct planes of her face as he carefully chose his words. “I’ve had much time to think, up here. I’ve come to—to conclusions.” He took a breath and the words came closer together, as though he feared to hold them in. “I’ve come to the conclusion that things which give pleasure are not necessarily sinful.”
    Soberly she said. “That is counter to the teachings of the Book.”
    He met her gaze. “I know it, but I think it’s something I can now accept.”
    “The Elders—”
    “And neither,” he said, “are they necessarily infallible.”
    “Devon, why do we always seem to talk of things which trouble me?”
    He gently framed her head with his fingers. “Then I’ll speak of other things tonight.” He touched her chin. “Shall I talk of Aram’s early barley crop?”
    “Don’t make fun of me.”
    Their kiss was tender and tentative, as it had been the year before when they had first met secretly in the woods beside Aram’s lower meadow.
    Devon said, “Tell me about your dream.”
    “I cannot. That