PART III

THE RECONDITE STIRS

THE YEAR 2,223 OF EVERON
THE MONTH OF PONTHMEN

When wakes the recondite world, the sword shall appear as a feather, the wolf as a mouse, the legion as a carnival. I shall laugh from my grave, and it shall sound as a lute.

—FROM THE CONFESSION OF THE SHINECRAFTER EMME VICCARS, AT THE PRONOUNCEMENT OF HER SENTENCE OF EXECUTION