For a long time, Zechariah would not take it. He just stroked his beard and studied the map. Finally, he lowered his hand as if to point at something, flattened his palm against the stone, and erased Justin's lines. He rubbed them out until his hands were black with soot, and the stone was a blank canvas again.

There was a lump in Justin's throat as Zechariah took the twig. He held it like a paintbrush, and with intricate strokes and gentle curves, he began to draw a map of his ...