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Swan's skin prickled. She sensed a bright light beating at her sealed-up eyeholes. "What is it?"

"Yes. It didn't used to hurt so much, but now... it's all the time."

"Sixteen. Josh keeps track of my birthday for me. How old are you?"

"Sixteen. Josh keeps track of my birthday for me. How old are you?"

The fire-noiseless and without heat-had shrouded Swan's face and head before Josh could get up from the floor. Swan made no sound and lay motionless, but she could hear a sizzling over the wonderful scenes that kept swirling through her mind.

Swan's skin prickled. She sensed a bright light beating at her sealed-up eyeholes. "What is it?"

Still half blinded, Sister saw the strange fire, too, saw it crawling up Swan's arms; it snapped like the uncoiling of a whip and began to wrap itself around the girl's head.

Her fingers curled around the glass. There was heat in it, a heat that began to spread into her hands, through her wrists and forearms. Under the bandages, the raw skin of her hands had begun itching and stinging. "Oh," she said, more in surprise than in pain.

Still half blinded, Sister saw the strange fire, too, saw it crawling up Swan's arms; it snapped like the uncoiling of a whip and began to wrap itself around the girl's head.

The fire-noiseless and without heat-had shrouded Swan's face and head before Josh could get up from the floor. Swan made no sound and lay motionless, but she could hear a sizzling over the wonderful scenes that kept swirling through her mind.

"Here." Sister put it into Swan's hands.

But as soon as his fingertips touched the glass, he was flung backward with such force that he left his feet before crashing into the wall, narrowly missing breaking most of the bones in Paul's body. The air was forced from his lungs with a noise like a ruptured steam pipe, and he crumpled to the floor, dazed from the worst knock he'd taken since Haystacks Muldoon had thrown him from the wrestling ring in Winston-Salem eleven years before. Damn thing repelled me, he thought, when thinking was possible again. He tried to struggle up and realized that the flaming ring had been cool under his fingers.

Her fingers stopped when they found the growths. "You've got it, too." Swan's fingers continued across Sister's left cheek, then down to her chin. "Feels like a cobblestone road."

Swan's skin prickled. She sensed a bright light beating at her sealed-up eyeholes. "What is it?"

Sister glanced at Josh. He was standing behind Paul, and Glory had come from the other room. Josh didn't know what was going on, and all this ring of miracles talk was beyond him-but he trusted the woman, and he let himself nod.

I know what my work is now.

Sister glanced at Josh. He was standing behind Paul, and Glory had come from the other room. Josh didn't know what was going on, and all this ring of miracles talk was beyond him-but he trusted the woman, and he let himself nod.

The fire-noiseless and without heat-had shrouded Swan's face and head before Josh could get up from the floor. Swan made no sound and lay motionless, but she could hear a sizzling over the wonderful scenes that kept swirling through her mind.

She thought of the magic mirror and the figure she'd seen bearing a ring of light. That figure, she knew, had been the woman who now stood at her bedside, and what she'd been carrying had finally arrived.

Yes, Swan thought as the images continued to flood through her mind in brilliant patterns of color and light. My work.

"I guess so. A doctor friend of ours calls it 'Job's Mask.' He thinks what's in the air causes some people's skin to crust over. Damned if I can figure out why it just screws up the face and head, though." She reached out and touched the girl's forehead, then quickly jerked her hand back. Under the Job's Mask, Swan was running a fever that had almost scorched Sister's fingers. "Does it hurt?" Sister asked.

"I guess so. A doctor friend of ours calls it 'Job's Mask.' He thinks what's in the air causes some people's skin to crust over. Damned if I can figure out why it just screws up the face and head, though." She reached out and touched the girl's forehead, then quickly jerked her hand back. Under the Job's Mask, Swan was running a fever that had almost scorched Sister's fingers. "Does it hurt?" Sister asked.

"Here." Sister put it into Swan's hands.

"I guess so. A doctor friend of ours calls it 'Job's Mask.' He thinks what's in the air causes some people's skin to crust over. Damned if I can figure out why it just screws up the face and head, though." She reached out and touched the girl's forehead, then quickly jerked her hand back. Under the Job's Mask, Swan was running a fever that had almost scorched Sister's fingers. "Does it hurt?" Sister asked.

The fire-noiseless and without heat-had shrouded Swan's face and head before Josh could get up from the floor. Swan made no sound and lay motionless, but she could hear a sizzling over the wonderful scenes that kept swirling through her mind.

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