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her home in the sun. Her soul is set free.
    The flaming arms of the fire reach to the sky, its smoke mingling with that of the Eternal Flames, and my thoughts unexpectedly turn to Kaiya and her father. It's hard to deny that he loved and cared for her, or that she loved and missed him in return.
    The Cloister needs daughters, but I fear the haunted eyes of other Gathered girls following my footsteps for the rest of my days. Perhaps I only need time to forget this Gathering. Perhaps.

9.
    Days pass.
    Busy with the work of helping Adar establish herself, I have little time to consider Kaiya or her father. Except at night. I think of them at night, while my sister breathes lightly across the room, and sleep will not come.
    The Teachers take their evening meals and share snippets of information about the girl. She is not called Kaiya; they never learned her given name. They feel the daughters adjust to the Cloister more easily with a new name, one like our own.
    "A good student," says one Teacher.
    "And a strong fighter," says another.
    But there is a hesitation in their voices and faces.
    "What is it?" I ask.
    They exchange glances.
    "She is unhappy."
    "She does not embrace our ways."
    "Give the girl time," Grimma says jovially over her cup at the table next to ours.
    The Teachers agree, but a look passes between them again as if they have seen this before and it did not end well.
    One day, Adar and I sit in the great hall listening to a disagreement between two of our Sisters. They've had an argument and no longer desire to live together, but neither wants to give up the home they shared.
    My sister sits straight in her chair, fingers needled under her chin, lips pursed. If the women are not careful, she will give them hard labor as punishment for their selfishness. I am about to say as much when Brande bursts in, spear in hand.
    "A man . . . there is a man at the gates. He demands his daughter back."
    My temples pound; my breath quickens.
    Adar sits up. "What man? What daughter?"
    "I do not know."
    Spears in hand, we run down the hill to the gate in the western wall and then up the ladder. We peer into the forest from the top.
    He is here. He did not give up.
    He stands on the ground below— unkempt, shoulders drooping, one arm held stiffly. But even from a distance I see the determination in his eyes as he stares at us, just as I saw it in his daughter's. Not many would dare to approach the walls of the Cloister, unarmed and alone, demanding the Sisters give his child back.
    "Kill him," Golnar says from beside me.
    "No," I say sharply. "He is no threat to us."
    "How do you know?" She pauses, scrutinizing me. "Has he come for the girl you Gathered? Were you followed, Alev?"  Accusation slicks her voice. 
    "If I were," I respond coolly, "he would have been here long ago."
    The man's black eyes seem to hold mine, as if my Sisters and the walls and the Cloister and nothing else exist except us.
    I wish that were true for a moment. He has shown great courage, persistence, and a devotion to his daughter that I did not know a man could possess. I would like to speak to him, to understand him better, but that's impossible.
    "If he wants his daughter, he should pick up a weapon and fight." Brande’s mouth curls with disdain.
    Niran would have had him killed immediately rather than risk any further trouble. What will Adar do?
    She speaks. "If he leaves before morning, we will allow him to go unharmed. If not, we will kill him. Watch him closely, Brande."
    Golnar's fist tightens around her spear. A few eyebrows are raised, but we all lower our heads in acknowledgement of her decision.  I release my breath.
    My gut churns as we descend the ladder. I brought Kaiya here. Her father followed to the doorstep of his death. If he does not leave, his death will be my fault.
    He's a man; I should not care. Kaiya is a daughter of the Cloister now, not his. But as the thoughts form in my mind, I know with a sudden