“I cannot remain here, Lev. A prophet’s heart must serve one master if he is to remain a prophet, and a woman born to service will not be locked up and fed. If Batya sent away her maidservants then their quarters sit empty, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Take me to her home.”

This had to end. Whatever Tamar’s objections to staying in the cave, walking into the capital was insane. “You are hunted! Don’t forget the dead priests as well. Do you think we can walk you past the guards of Shomron?”

“The men you fear have heard of a prophetess on the run, but they have never seen me.”

I held back a laugh. If any woman looked like a prophetess, it was Tamar. She was younger than Aunt Leah, with sharp cheeks and a flat chin. It was her eyes that gave her away. Their depth was not that of a simple woman. She stood straight, as if labor had never bowed her back. Even if she changed the brown, fine-wool cloak fastened tight about her neck for poorer garments, she would never pass for one of the people of the land. If I were charged with spying out a prophetess, there is no way I would allow her through the gates.

The lamplight reflected in her eyes. “Judge not by what you now see. I am a woman who knows my power as well as my place. I restrain myself in the presence of my brothers to avoid clouding their minds, but weak-minded guards will be clay in my hands. I can shape their vision of me into whatever form I desire.”

Tamar might be confident, but I was not. The risk was too great. If she were caught, we would all be lost.

“Fear not,” she said, “I will do nothing to endanger you, or anyone else. We will enter the city separately. Should I fail, the consequences will fall upon my head alone.”

“And if Batya should refuse your service?”

“Then I will turn elsewhere, for I will not remain here. But why should she refuse?”

I was out of objections. “Very well. When would you like to go?”

“At once.”

I knew the answer before she said it, and my knees sagged at the thought of the walk to Shomron. I needed to sleep, and here with the prophets was the perfect place to do so. But Tamar’s needs were greater than my own, and she would have no rest as long as we remained.

Ovadia’s donkey waited for us outside the cave, already packed by Sadya. He had even strapped my sleeping mat on top. As we stepped out under the open sky, Tamar paused behind the olive tree. She loosened the cloak at her neck to expose her throat and pulled back her hood, setting free a few strands of hair. When she stepped out from the shadow of the tree, there was a subtle sway to her step that had not been there before.

She gave me a full-lipped smile which softened the sharp lines of her cheeks. With her hood down, her hazel eyes shone in the sunlight. Then her smile disappeared, and her eyes went dark. “All this I’ve done for any stray eyes that should happen to catch us on our journey. You keep your gaze forward. Whatever thoughts I may invoke in others, to you I remain a prophetess.”

I whipped around and led the donkey down the terraces. Only once I hit the trail did Tamar descend and follow from a distance. When I reached the gates of Shomron, I passed through as easily as always. The attention of the guards was already fixed behind me.

Though Tamar had warned me to keep my eyes forward, I could not help but stop twenty paces from the gate and turn to watch. The guards’ eyes followed her as she approached, and I reached for my father’s knife under my tunic. Tamar must have felt their suspicions, for she hurried through the gate, her hand drawing her cloak tight about her neck.

Why was I so stupid? I never should have listened to her. I watched as her composure fell apart under the gaze of the guards. I unfastened the knife from my thigh. I would not let another prophet die as I watched.

The Tzidonian stared at Tamar as she passed through the gate, but did not reach for his sword. A grin spread across his face as he watched her, then his eyes drifted back to the next person approaching the gate.

“Eyes forward, Lev,” the prophetess said as she passed me, her voice perfectly calm.

I hurried up the hill of Shomron, passing her on the road. At the corner of Ovadia’s street, I stopped to tighten the straps on the saddlebag. Heads turned to watch Tamar, and with all attention on her, none saw my subtle sign. I remained at the corner after she passed to make sure no one followed, but once Tamar stepped out of sight, those on the main road returned to what they were doing as if she had never passed.

I caught up to Tamar and led her to Ovadia’s door. I raised the hammer to bang on the gate, but she held up her hand.

“Not yet,” she said. “I am about to enter another woman’s domain.” She refastened her cloak at the neck and tucked the loose hairs back under her hood.

She looked at me with piercing eyes. “I have left your mind untouched, but I wanted you to get a glimpse. I have the power to enter a man’s dreams, or his nightmares. Lest you ever come to consider your thoughts to be your own, remember that moment back at the gate. Each of those guards considered himself strong and me weak. Yet, I chose what they saw. I wished to draw their attention and hold it for only a moment. I could as easily make them fear me or fall sick with desire, but neither would have served our purposes.

“There is nothing unique about these gifts. If you were only battling in the world of men, it might do to strengthen your body, but Izevel will use all her powers to achieve her ends. To survive in her realm, you must strengthen your will.

“Now, knock upon the gate.”

One’s gifts make room for them, and bring them before the great.

Proverbs 18:16

5

The Spy

The gate opened a crack. Batya’s eyes fell on me and her dark brows drew down. Only when she opened it a bit wider did she see Tamar. I stood braced for questions, but Batya merely stepped back to let us both in the courtyard.

“You are a prophetess,” Batya said after bolting the door. There was no question in her voice.

“I am Tamar bat Yoram. I have come to help with the bread—if you will have me.”

“She has hardly slept in three days,” I said, afraid Batya might put her right to work. “Nor I since Shabbat,” I added.

“Come in and eat, then you may both rest. I can manage the baking today. You are welcome in my home, Tamar bat Yoram.”

Hot bread was less tempting than sleep. Bypassing the kitchen, I went straight up the ladder and dropped like a stone onto the straw bed.

Ovadia shook me awake early in the afternoon. “I hear you’ve had a busy few days?”

I pushed myself into a sitting position. “I’m so sorry I’ve messed everything up.”

He waved away my apology. “The main problem was we needed your help with the baking, but I expect Tamar will prove equally capable.”

I allowed myself a laugh. “What will you have me do now? Remain with the musicians?”

“Now that Zim knows you’re here, we have no choice. We can’t risk having anyone so close to Yambalya grow suspicious.”

“I could still come help in the mornings. Zim rarely wakes before midday.”

Ovadia shook his head. “Sooner or later they’ll wonder where you’re going.”

I had failed. Much as I hated baking, at least it helped keep the prophets alive. “I understand. I’ll go live with the musicians and find work where I can. I’ll bring whatever copper I earn for you to buy grain.”

Ovadia’s grin grew wider as my voice sank. “Oh, I believe you can still contribute more than that. In truth, I’ve had another role in mind for you from the beginning.”

“What? Why have you said nothing about it?”

“Batya thought it too dangerous, and she needed your help with the baking.”

“And now?”