Robin sighed as she sagged down onto the couch. She was safe now. She had managed to find a waitressing job, and was in a corridor that no one would think to look for her in. She had enough money to live on, and enough for a cup of coffee besides.

Idly, she thought of the stranger she had encountered a few days before. She wondered if he was a morning person, or if the man would be there this late in the day. Before she realized that she had made a decision, she had risen and moved out the front door.

There was no one there. She closed her eyes for a moment in a strange disappointment, then walked into the dark café, her eyes easily adapting from the sunlight. She sat at the back-most table, and smiled at the shop owner.

"Senorita?"

"Negro, por favor." She said, leaning back in the chair. The coffee came as requested, and she tipped the glass to the room. "Amon." She whispered, and leaned back to drink it.

The clock bell tolled in the back of the shop, reminding her of the time, and she finished her cup, left it on the table, along with her tip and payment, before heading down the street towards Seville's cathedral. She slipped into the side door, with the four or five older women who faithfully attended mass everyday, and knelt for a moment, before sliding back into the old pew and waiting. Exactly on time, the ancient priest entered the room in silence, accompanied by his alter boys. Robin bowed her head as she spoke the ritual phrases, in the language she was learning on the fly, reveling for a moment in the peace of Spain's holy ground, before raising her eyes to look at the beautifully ornamented chapel. For a moment, she allowed her mind to drift away from the mass long enough to wonder what mass had been like at the main alter reserved for the monarchy, before drawing her eyes back from the huge pipe organ into the (relatively) small chapel she now sat in.

Emerging from the chapel after mass, she walked along beside the wall and iron fence, her eyes scanning the gothic designs worked into the stone. Her eyes fell on the large tower that had once been part of the Muslim mosque. Without being sure why, she turned in and paid the money that was requested of tourists who came to tour the chapels of the main cathedral. She ducked inside, gazing up at the gilded altar, and sank into a genuflection before it, closed off as it was. She rose, crossing herself, and turned to see the tourists with their cameras staring at her. Looking to her left, she saw one old Spanish woman, who had also knelt before the iron gate. The woman glanced her way and nodded once, before completing her own Sign and rising to leave.

Robin found herself moving back towards the exit, before she saw a marriage party approaching through the door and heading into one of the old chapels that had once belonged to the nobility. She turned aside, not wanting to move through the bridal train, and found herself looking at the sloping ramp that led to the prayer tower. Tucking her black skirt tightly around her legs, she began to climb, stopping at each of the little 'shrines' that held treasures of the cathedral's august past.

By the thirty-second level, her legs were burning, and her hair had pulled out of its handlebars to hang around her face. Somewhere behind her, she could hear a child whining about the height of the climb, and she found herself abruptly surprised that she was climbing this tower, before being immediately ashamed. An old priest had climbed this tower daily to call the faithful to prayer when the Moors had occupied Spain, and schoolchildren and tourists climbed it daily. Massaging her leg for an instant, she resumed her climb.

The wind whipped around her, and sunlight caught at her blonde hair, rendering her for an instant back into the fire witch she had been for so much of her life. Beneath her, the city spread itself gloriously, and the roof of the cathedral stretched, beckoning her, calling her name…

"Robin. I see you made it." A voice said behind her. She turned, to see a woman in a spreading renaissance gown looking at her with soft, green eyes. Blonde hair was caught in a bun, and the hue of the dress was as black as midnight. For the first time, Robin realized that the tower was remarkably free of tourists, except for herself and this woman. "I wondered how long you would be."

"What are you?" Robin asked, then wondered at her own choice of phrasing. The woman laughed, delightedly.

"You are just as I had hoped, recognizing me from the first, for what I am." She crossed to Robin, and embraced her for an instant, then pulled away, turning Robin to look out over the city, specifically turning her attention to the plaza. Robin wrenched her eyes, away, again turning to look at the woman who guided her eyes.

"I cannot show you anything again. You are missing your lessons, Little Robin." The woman scolded gently. "I will explain after you have witnessed."

A man feebly climbed the tower, his voice chanting across the city. Day after day he came, until at last he required the aid of a donkey to make his journey. A queen stood in the garden for a moment, looking after the departing man, before sinking to her knees, the words of her prayer not-quite reaching the soaring tower. A whore pounded at the cathedral gates, her voice carrying, rising to meet Robin,

"Sanctuary, sanctuary!"

Lovers embraced, praying fervently that God find some way to save them. A girl prayed to escape the fires. A woman and her husband thanked God for the birth of their son, asking for a long life and health for the child. A man rejoiced in his marriage to his beautiful wife. A widow thanked God that her husband's suffering was over. Faith and prayer resounded, and one voice called out to Robin from the courtyard fountain…

"And bring us your new chosen, the one who will save all of the children you gave these powers to. We ask this through Christ the Lord…"

Robin whirled, her eyes frantically searching the woman's face. Unruffled, the woman smiled at her. "You see? Witches have been God's people since this cathedral was built. They left imprints of themselves here, and all of them wished for God to send them the Eve to help them, the one who would show them how to use their power, to help them understand what God wants of them. Eve, you and Adam were sent to be the one they have prayed for at this cathedral, not to hunt them. Find Adam. Train the witches to control their crafts, to use their power to help the humans God has not granted power to."

"And in the meantime, get a cup of coffee, my sister. You look like you need it."