For the second time in only a handful of hours Mayta found herself running back up the steps. Her feet pounded hard against the stones, urging herself forward even faster. At the top, the same monk who she had seen earlier was sitting on the steps that led up into the deep green temple nestled so close to the mountain’s peak. Mayta walked over to the monk and doubled over, hands on her knees, to catch her breath.

“Back so soon,” the monk said.

“I’m here,” Mayta announced between labored breaths. “To warn you about oncoming danger regarding Theocharista.”

“You are here to warn me about the Le Faye,” the monk said. “I already know the risks of my position. Though I do thank you for being so considerate.”

“You don’t understand-” Mayta tried to argue.

“Morgana Le Faye is a force of nature,” the monk interrupted. “She can rip roofs from buildings, kill a greenhouse worth of plants with a thought, and is more than willing to destroy the lives of others in order to keep what she perceives to be hers. Is that what you were going to say?”

Mayta paused then. That was, almost word for word, what she was going to say. She lifted her head up to look at the monk. A twinkle of something mischievous flashed across her smiling eyes. The monk stood putting an arm under Mayta’s elbow and led her inside.

“I don’t believe we were properly introduced,” the monk continued. “My name is Sister Pa. I know you are this generations Mayta. You seem unfamiliar with how this should be happening.”

“I don’t understand,” Mayta replied. “This wasn’t in my book.”

“Every Mayta has been less prepared since they stopped giving you the first edition,” Sister Pa said, clicking her tongue. “Come in, sit, sit, we have much to discuss.”

“Why are you helping me?” Mayta asked.

Sister Pa led her into the temple. Down an undecorated corridor and deep into the belly of the building, Mayta found herself in a plain looking empty room with a locked door behind her. Sister Pa sat on the bare floor after she flipped the lock shut. Mayta hesitantly followed suit.

“Do you read ancient runes well?” Sister Pa asked.

“Not particularly,” she admitted. “Theocharista is much more adept than I am.”

With a smile Sister Pa replied, “That is no surprise.”

Sister Pa pointed to the ceiling. When Mayta looked up she gasped. Decorating the ceiling in a perfect spiral were lines of ancient runes and parallel to those were spirals of intricately crafted spells. Mayta couldn’t read what either of them said but there was one thing she knew for certain.

“That spell crafting,” Mayta said, following the movement with her fingers. “It’s the same as mine.”

Mayta’s hand strayed to the base of her neck. The difference was minimal but Mayta could always feel the slightly raised skin where her own intricate runes started. Sister Pa looked up at the runes fondly.

“I can only read a handful myself,” she admitted. “Most are their own specific variations, not in any book, with no translations possible. Every phrase, every word, every letter, they’re all unique. Expertly crafted by a practitioner so thorough even her ancestors couldn’t decipher it.”

“This is why they’re all drawn here,” Mayta concluded.

“I don’t believe so,” Sister Pa disagreed. “Something calls them but this cannot be it.”

“If you can’t read what the runes say then how do you know this isn’t what calls them?” Mayta asked.

“Because none have been in this room,” Sister Pa replied. “All on the steps, all in the garden, all in the hall of enlightenment, even some so far as the kitchen, but none have ever come this way. If this were a beacon then why not try and find it?”

Mayta had no answer.

"The further we stray from the founders of Morgana's Keep the more seems to be lost," Sister Pa speculated. "Censoring your only guide was not the first transgression but it was a calculated one. Find the first edition. It will explain everything."

With that, Sister Pa stood. She offered her hand to Mayta who took it out of courtesy. Before she unlocked the door Sister Pa tapped the lock. When she knew Mayta was looking Sister Pa traced her index finger around the doorknob. Runes flared to life, flashing gold and then fading, after the last glow was gone the door popped open. She knew that magic. There was no way to mistake the color.

On their walk back towards the steps Mayta kept silent as long as she could. She clutched at her hands, wringing them against the hem of her cloak. On the first step down Mayta turned back to address Sister Pa.

“You’ll tell Theocharista whatever she asks, won’t you?” Mayta asked.

“Why would I not?” Sister Pa replied.

“She is a Yost,” Mayta said. “I cannot hope to contain her if she learns everything.”

“Mayhaps you should change your goal then,” Sister Pa suggested.

“If Theocharista leaves Morgana will turn this building into a pile of rubble,” Mayta blurted out.

Sister Pa smiled, softly touching Mayta’s arm before saying, “Read the first edition.”