Marika was squirming on the Way Meeting"s pew. The Way Readings were for big people and at five-years-old, she found them boring. Mama insisted she sit quietly with hands folded. Her green eyes looked up at the three huge golden stars above the heads of the Teacher, Brother Philip, and Brother Anton. She then shifted to look out the window. It was frosted to keep the parishioner"s eyes forward and minds on the Readers. With a sigh she sat back and bolted upright as the hate-filled words spilled into her mind.
"Heretic! You so-called Teacher, tonight you will die!"
The message roared into her mind like red hot coals being stirred with a poker. She whimpered, grabbed her mother"s arm for protection, and snuggled closer to her mother"s body.
Venta remained intent on the final blessing and
