As she looked and listened, a new strength stirred in Rachel's heart. At
first she had felt afraid, but now courage flowed into her, and it seemed
to come from the old, old woman at her side, the mistress of mysteries,
the mother of magic, in whom was gathered the wisdom of a hundred
generations of this half human race.
"Look at the stars, and the night," she was saying in her soft voice, "for
soon thou shalt be beyond them all, and perchance thou shall never see
them more. Art thou fearful? If so, speak, and we will not try this
journey in search of one whom we may not find."
"No," answered Rachel; "but, Mother, whither go we?"
"We go to the Land, of Death. Come, then, the moment is at hand. It is
hard on midnight. See, yonder star stands above the holy Tree," and she
pointed to a bright orb that hung almost over the topmost bough of the
cedar, "it marks thy road, and if thou wouldst pass it, now is the hour."
"Mother," asked Noie, "may I come with her? I also have my dead, and where
my Sister goes I follow."
"Aye, if thou wilt, daughter of Seyapi, the path is wide enough for three,
and if I stay on high, perchance thou that art of my blood mayest find
strength to guide her earthwards through the wandering worlds.
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