Matthew Torrent remembered standing before the elders. Only then his name was not Matthew. He had a name more musical than any human name could ever be; he liked Matthew better. He had run away from the first day he had known about the prophecy. He had hidden among the caves that gleamed black like earth’s jet. He had found the secret rooms in the Empress’ tower. He had found company in the people the elders had never bothered much about, but at that moment it seemed that it was all coming to an end, unless he did something about it.
One of the elders stepped forward and the face terrified him, because it was like a mask, pale and unmoving. He had seen such masks at the Empress’ tower. Her actors had worn them, as he sat huddled in a dark space, where no one could see him as he watched,and forgot for a while that he was a runaway. Those were the good times. The masks had never seemed fearful on the actors. He remembered their versatile voices, and sweeping motions that seemed almost hilarious and were absolutely perfect.
The elder stepped forward stiffly, and Matthew Torrent’s eyes went up past the mask-like face to the eyes, cold, blue, and somewhat amused.
‘’ Well, you have run valiantly, but alas, futilely, for who among us, though we be swift, can outrun Fate? Though you escape yet again, the prophecy will find you.’’
‘’ You mean that you will find me,’’ said Matthew, glaring at elder.
A rueful smile broke the elder’s mask. ‘’ The prophecy will not leave you, but we mean to insure that it happens the way we want it to. It will follow you even if you leave this planet, but we intend to make that as hard as possible.’’
Matthew stepped forward, as if to fight the elder, but it looked like he struck nothing but air.
A shield room. Matthew cursed. He should have expected nothing less from them. He was trapped and they were ‘’ shielded’’.