HeartFire Page 0,51

could, but he could see into the body. He could tell when Margaret was speaking but had no notion what was said. He could hear the heartbeat, feel the breathing, tell if she was upset or calm, but he could not know why.

She was eating. She was tense, her muscles held rigid, her attitude wary. Two companions at dinner. One of them unfamiliar to him. The other...

What was Calvin doing across a table from Margaret?

At once Alvin did a closer check on his wife and baby. Nothing interfering with the baby in the womb - her heartbeat was regular, she showed no distress.

Of course not. Why should he even imagine that Calvin posed any threat to his family? Calvin might be a strange boy, plagued with jealousy and quick to wrath, but he wasn't a monster. He didn't hurt people, beyond hurting their feelings. No doubt his fear came from Margaret's constant warnings about how Calvin was going to get him killed someday. If he posed any danger to Margaret or the baby, she'd know long beforehand and would take steps to stop him.

Calvin and Margaret dining together. That bore thinking about. He could hardly wait for Margaret to get some time alone and write to him.

Then he got to thinking about Margaret and how he missed her and what it might be like, the two of them settling down without feeling the weight of the world on their shoulders, spending their time raising children and working to make a living. No Unmaker to be watched for and fended off. No Crystal City to be built. No horrible war to be avoided. Just wife, children, husband, neighbors, and in time grandchildren and graveyards, joy and grief, the rising and falling floods and droughts of the river of life.

"You fall asleep, Alvin?" asked Verily.

"Was I snoring?" asked Alvin.

"Arthur finished his tale. Your life story. Weren't you listening?"

"Heard it all before," said Alvin. "Besides, I was there when it happened, and it wasn't half so entertaining to live through as the tale Arthur makes of it."

"The question is whether Miss Purity wants to be one of our company," said Verily.

"Then why are you asking me?" said Alvin.

"I thought you might help us listen to her answer."

Alvin looked at Purity, who blushed and looked away.

Arthur Stuart glared at Verily. "You accusing Miss Purity of lying?"

"I'm saying," said Verily, "that if she believed your story, then she might fear the great power that Alvin has within him, and so she might give the answer that she thinks will keep her safe, instead of the answer that corresponds to her true inclinations."

"And I'm supposed to know whether she's telling the truth or not?" asked Alvin.

"Her heart isn't made of wood," said Verily, "so I can't tell if it beats faster or slower when she answers."

"She's the one with the knack to tell what people feel," said Alvin. "Margaret's the one as sees into folks' heartfire. Me, I just fiddle with stuff."

"You are too modest," said Purity, "if what your disciples say is true."

That perked Alvin right up. "Disciples?"

"Isn't that what you are? The master and his disciples, wandering about in the wilderness, hoping to recruit another."

"To me it looks more like a lost man and his friends, who are willing to be lost with him till he finds what he's looking for," said Alvin.

"You don't believe that," said Purity.

"No," said Alvin. "They're my friends, but that's not why they're here. They're fellow dreamers. They want to see the Crystal City as much as I do, and they're willing to travel hundreds of miles to help me find it."

Purity smiled faintly. "The Crystal City. The City of God. I wonder who it is you'll end up hanging, since you can't very well hang witches."

"Don't plan on hanging anybody," said Alvin.

"Not even murderers?" said Purity.

Alvin shrugged. "They get themselves hung no matter where they go."

"Once you have the gallows, you'll find new reasons to hang people from it."

"Why are you being so spiteful?" asked Verily. "New England hasn't added a capital crime in the two hundred years since it was founded. And some former capital crimes haven't led to the gallows in a century. You have no reason to think that a decent society will go mad with the power to kill."

"New England didn't need new reasons," said Purity, "because it had such a fine catchall. No matter what someone did, if you want him dead, he's a witch."

"I wouldn't know," said Verily.

"You said it yourself,"