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It made Cass feel self-conscious to hear herself described this way, accurate though the words were. She smoothed the front of the smart blue dress that she and Mrs. Peelstick had bought for the occasion, caught herself fidgeting, and folded her hands in front of her.

“Cassandra,” Brendan continued, picking up the Bible, “place your right hand on the Holy Bible and repeat after me…” He then led her through a litany of phrases in which she solemnly promised to promote the interests, aims, and objectives of the society; to further the search for knowledge through study and exploration; to use such gifts as she was given and that came to her for the good of her human family; to offer immediate aid to any of her fellow members in need; to provide counsel and contribute to the material welfare of the society and its members; to keep herself in perpetual preparedness to further the quest at every opportunity; to safeguard all that would be placed upon her and expected of her; and, finally, to fight valiantly against evil in all its insidious forms to the glory of the Creator who made and-by perpetual loving care-continually sustains the Omniverse and everything that lives, moves, and has being within it.

With her palm firmly on the Bible, Cass repeated the phrases, mentally agreeing with each one and concluded by saying, “I, Cassandra Clarke, make this vow in good conscience and of my own free will, pledging life, health, and strength to the quest set before me, so help me God.”

As she spoke these last words, it really did seem as if she had taken on a new and different dimension to her personality, indeed, to her very soul. The feeling was confirmed when Brendan handed her an unlit candle and asked her to light it from the larger candle on the table. As she held her candle to the flame, he said, “May this light be a symbol of the Great Light on which you may rely as you make passage through the darkness of ignorance, evil, and death towards the never-ending light of eternity.”

The unlit wick caught, and the candle flared to life with a bright yellow flame. Cassandra turned to face the gathered members once more.

“Ladies and gentleman of the Zetetic Society,” Brendan announced, “please welcome our newest member, Cassandra Clarke.” To the accompanying applause, he shook her hand, and then each of the other members came forward to shake hands and welcome her into the fold.

Then it was over-a simple ceremony, but satisfactory in every regard. Cass did feel as if she had joined a band of fellow travellers and friends on whom she could rely in the days ahead. A fine meal of Syrian delicacies followed-flat bread with hummus, baba ganoush, roast lamb with rice, broad beans with tomato and mint, fatoush, and chicken kabobs-which Cass enjoyed, but not as much as the company of her fellow diners, who all made it a point to approach and offer her special words of wisdom for travelling the leys: wear loose clothing and carry a change of underwear; gold is the universal currency, always have a few sovereigns or Krugerands at the ready; a Swiss Army knife with a corkscrew is a lifesaver; a no-nonsense cotton scarf can work wonders; sturdy, high-topped leather shoes won’t let you down; secure a broad-brimmed hat… and so on.

Each comment was delivered with the best wishes of the giver along with a pledge to help their newest member in any and every way possible. Cass thanked them all for their good advice.

Later, as they were having their coffee out in the courtyard under the stars, Tess sidled up to her. “Smell the jasmine,” she said, inhaling the sweet, heady scent. “Absolutely heavenly.”

“It’s always been one of my favourites,” Cass replied, drawing in the perfume-laden night air. “Ever since I was a little girl.”

“You seem distracted,” Tess observed. “Has someone said something to upset you?”

“No, not at all. On the contrary,” replied Cass quickly. “It’s just…” She hesitated, then confessed, “I feel a little daunted, is all. Overwhelmed. So much has happened all at once, and I know so little about any of it. I feel like I’ve got a mountain to get over.”

The old lady regarded her with a sudden intensity, then announced, “I’m going to adopt you, dear heart. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Cass replied. “But do I look like I need adopting?”

“Not in the least,” Tess answered. “I do it for purely selfish reasons. I am far too old to pursue the quest anymore, but I can still be involved in my way. I can uphold you in prayer, for example.”

“Prayer is our greatest and most salutary weapon in the eternal battle,” put in the man called Schecter, joining them. He took a sip of coffee and continued, “No less than gravity, prayer is one of the elemental forces that moves the world. We underestimate it at our peril.”

“Keep your sermons to yourself, Robert,” Tess told him. “I saw her first.” She took Cass by the arm. “Come, we’ll go where we can speak a little more privately.”

“You cannot keep her all to yourself,” Robert called as Cass was pulled away. “We all hope to get to know her better.”

They found chairs in a leafy corner of the courtyard and sat down together. “Robert is right, of course, but he will pontificate so,” said Tess. They settled themselves, and Tess leaned close. “Are you a believer?” she asked in her forthright way.

“In prayer?” wondered Cass.

“In God-Creator and Sustainer of the Universe.”

“Well, yes-ever since I was a little girl.” Cass regarded her elderly companion. It was not easy to believe that she was as old as she claimed to be; the vitality radiating from her was almost contagious. “Why do you ask?”

“Because it means there is so much less that one must unlearn.” She leaned back, and a smile spread across her wrinkled face. “I should know-I was the most obnoxious atheist you ever met. In my unenlightened years I positively relished playing the cat among the pigeons with my God-fearing acquaintances. I thought it great sport to poke holes in their reasoning and rhetoric, to point out all the inconsistencies, and to ridicule their muddled thinking. Although so much religious dogma serves only to buttress power and befuddle the masses, it really deserves to be ridiculed. I mean, you hear these so-called revivalists banging on about heaven and hell and what notwhat do any of them reall y know about such things? They claim to know what God wants and what he demands… Bosh!” She tapped Cass on the arm. “Anyone who tells you he knows the mind of God is selling something. You can take that to the bank.”

She looked at Cass’s mildly perplexed expression and sat back. “Good gracious me-I seem to have gotten rather carried away. This is not what I wanted to talk about at all. I want to talk about your assignment. Has Brendan mentioned it yet?”

“He hasn’t said anything about any assignment.”

“No? Well, in my day all new members were required to undertake a purposeful project-something of material value to the advancement of the society, something we need doing.”

“He didn’t mention anything like that. If he did, it failed to register.”

“Maybe it has gone by the wayside,” the old woman sighed. “It has been so very long since we had a new member, you see. Perhaps we don’t do that anymore.” She passed her gaze around the courtyard. “I wonder what has become of Cosimo? I want to introduce you. I’ve never known him to miss an induction-or a dinner, for that matter. He is usually the life of the party…” Her voice trailed off.

“Cosimo Livingstone?” wondered Cass.

“You know him?”

“Brendan told me about him.”

“Well, I should very much like you to meet him. I shall look forward to introducing you personally.”

“Are you very good friends?”

“Friends, yes, and something more.” Her voice took on a wistful note. “Cosimo and I were once engaged to be married.”