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THE DREAMhallucinationthe whatever-it-was felt real Totally and coarden of his family&039;s house in the Old Country, beneath a brilliant full e statue and pulled the ivy vines free of the eyes and nose andin his ar, and after he&039;d worked the shears&039; le to the tarp that lay on the ground at his feet

"There he is," he whispered "There he is"

The statue had long hair just like him, and deep-set eyes just like him, but the radiant happiness on its face was not his Nor was the young cradled in his arms Still, there was liberation to be had as Phury continued to strip off the ivy&039;s rowth

When he was finished, the reen tears of the weeds&039; demise, but the majesty of the form was undeniable

Ain his arms

Phury looked over his shoulder "What do you think?"

Corh she stood right next to him "I think he is beautiful"

Phury s in her face all the love he had for her in his heart "One more"

She swept her hand around "But look, the last one&039;s already done"

And so the final statue was; its weeds gone, along with any stains of neglect The male was old now, seated with a staff in his hands His face was still handsoh it isdo behind hi he had once cradled in his arms

The cycle was complete

And the weeds were no e It too was ically clean, and so were the youth and the infant statues as well

In fact, the entire garden had been righted and now rested beneath the warht in full, healthy bloom The fruit trees beside the statues were heavy with pears and apples, and the ere bordered with neat boxwood hedges Inside the beds, the flowers thrived in graceful disorder, as all fine English gardens did

He turned to the house The shutters that had hung cockeyed frohted, and the holes in the tile roof were nodisappeared, and every glass pane was intact The terrace was free of leaf debris, and the sinking spots that had gathered rain were level again Potted arrangeeraniu woven wicker chairs and tables

Through the living roo move¡ªcould it be? Yes, it was

His mother His father

The pair came into view, and they were as the statues had become: resurrected His mother with her yellow eyes and her blond hair and her perfect face His father with his dark hair and his clear stare and his kind smile

They were irail

"Go to them," Cormia said

Phury walked up onto the terrace, his white robing clean in spite of all the work he had done He approached his parents slowly, afraid of displacing the vision

"Mahertips to her side of the glass

Phury reached out and mirrored the exact position of her hand As his palh the

His father s

"What?" Phury asked

We are so proud of you son

Phury squeezed his eyes shut It was the first time he&039;d ever been called that by either of theo now We&039;re fine here now You&039;ve fixed everything

Phury looked at them "Are you sure?"

Both of theh the clean glass

Go and live now, son Go live your life, not ours We are well here

Phury stopped breathing and just stared at the in what they looked like Then he placed his hand over his heart and bent at the waist

It was a farewell Not a good-bye, but a fare well And he had the sense they would

Phury&039;s eyes flipped open Loo over him was a dense cloud cover no, wait, that was a lofty ceiling made of white marble

He turned his head Cor his hand, her face as war in his chest

"Would you like so to drink?" she said

"What?"

She reached over and lifted a glass off the table "Would you like a drink?"

"Yes, please"

"Lift your head up for me"

He took a test sip and found the water all but ephe and was the exact teood, and before he knew it he&039;d polished off the glass

"Would you like more?"

"Yes, please" Evidently that was the extent of his vocabulary

Cor sound was nice, he thought

"Here," she murmured This time she held his head up for hireen eyes

When she went to take the glass froentle hold In the Old Language he said, "I would wake like this always, bathing in your stare and your scent"

He expected her to pull away Get flustered Shut hiarden"

"Yes"

There was a knock upon the temple&039;s double doors

"Wait before you answer that," she said, looking around

Corlass down and padded across the marble After she took cover in so across the way, he cleared his throat

"Yeah?" he called out

The Directrix&039;s voice was kind and respectful "May I enter, your grace?"

He pulled a sheet over hih he had his pants on, then double-checked that Cormia wasn&039;t visible

"Yes"

The Directrix pulled back the vestibule&039;s curtain and bowed low There was a covered tray in her hands "I have brought you an offering frolow in her face told him that Layla had lied, and lied well

He didn&039;t trust himself to sit up, so he beckoned her with his hand

The Directrix approached the bedding platforold top, she said, "Fro on the tray, folded as precisely as a map, was an embroidered neck scarf Made of satin, and inlaid with jewels, it was a spectacular work of art

"For ourher head

"Thank you" Shit

He took the scarf and splayed it out in his pale Strength of the Race

As the geht they were like the fehtly in their platinus