"I am here, you see," said the smith. On reaching the churchyard, he perceived the melancholy procession descending the hill. “An Oracle you are! Sebastian never told me he’d made one!” Rhea screamed a scream that was part horror and part laughter. A pretty name for a pretty girl. The sky beyond was a surreal color of pink that reminded her of the windows she had once been entranced by at the castle chapel, their leaden lines depicting old religious stories and sufferings. His face was that of a quick, intelligent-looking boy, with fine hazel eyes, and a clear olive complexion. The two lovers sat together, and their sole discourse turned upon Jack and his ill-fated mother.
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