3.3

May 12

We followed the bidding of the bones.

We stood at the hazel tree and faced the empty docks.

We saw nothing, but we stood in silence for a long time.

At last, Hannah pointed and said, "The sound of the waves is different over there." And again Marketa looked at her as if seeing her for the first time.

We followed Hannah down to the water, and watched as she seemed to disappear beneath the waves. I heard Marketa's sharp intake of breath.

There was a cave below us. Sunken in, and protected from the water by a barrier of rock. The sound of the water echoed inside it.

Beyond the mouth of the cave, deep and far into its gullet, we could see a glowing light.

The two of them turned to me. Hannah took her knife and her warm sheepskins and pressed them into my hands.

"I won't need them in Bohemia," she said.

Marketa took her satchel, which contained her herbs, her compendium, and a handful of coins, and laid it at my feet.

"Nor will I," she said. I was trying very hard not to weep and made some ugly sounds. She hesitated. Then she put her arms around me. "You should return to the workshop," she said. "It is yours. I always intended it for you."

"Your mistake was not in loving her," I said pleadingly, which sounded as if I had not been listening, although I had.

But she pulled away and did not answer.

They looked at each other, and nodded as if agreeing on something. And then they turned their backs to me and walked deeper into the cave, toward the light.

I took their things - my things - and I left them. I did not want them to hear the sounds I would make, the sounds I am making, as I sit here at the hazel tree.

For at last, I have run out of words.