"Wait!" Benedict called.

Samuel stopped mere feet from the beginning of the silver tracings. "What is it, Father?" He turned back, curious. "I am ready to begin. I have gone over everything you have told me. There are the three veils, and then the Grand Curve. I am not to stop, no matter how much I might want to. I may not step from the tracings, and must follow it exactly to the center. And once there, I am to wish myself back to where you wait." The boy grinned eagerly. "I am ready, Father."

Benedict approached him slowly, a smile lighting his solemn features. "You remind me of your mother," he spoke softly. "You have her eyes, and her features." He rested a hand on Samuel's shoulder. "Her energy and enthusiasm."

The boy's eyes misted with faint tears. "That is not fair, Father, to remind me of her now." He glanced away, looking towards the Pattern as if hoping it would somehow give him strength. "It still hurts," he said softly.

It had been three years since Aria's death. In that time Samuel had trained hard with Benedict, following in his father's footsteps, and trying to keep up with his older cousin. But a year before Demeter had taken the Pattern and left to explore shadow. Now Samuel wished to follow his own path.

"The Pattern will remind you," Benedict told him. "It will evoke every memory you have, reminding you of the life you have lived until this moment. If you cannot bear those memories now, they will tear you apart upon the Pattern."

Samuel squared his shoulders. "You are trying to frighten me, Father. Demeter has taken the Pattern, and now it is my turn. Do you expect me to stay in Amber all of my life?"

Benedict squeezed his son's shoulder briefly. "Come back here when you are done."

"When I am done," Samuel nodded. He turned, and faced the Pattern, his expression solemn for mere moments. Then with a grin flashed at his father, he took the first step.

Benedict watched, proudly smiling, as his son took his first few steps. The silver flickers of flame rose up about his ankles, then licked at his knees. A faint frown began as Benedict stared. With each step, the flames seemed to rise higher and higher, until as Samuel approached the first veil, they seemed to caress his shoulders.

Samuel disappeared into the flames at the first veil. And when the flames died away, Samuel did not emerge on the other side.

His father stared for long moments at the Pattern, which had just stolen his son. He could see his wife's face reflected in the silver tracings, saw her smile as she held their son for the first time. Saw Samuel's cocky grin as he took that first step.

Then it was as if a shutter came down across his face, his features grave and solemn. Benedict left the Pattern room, locking the door behind him.