Nynaeve warily eyed the huge chamber, far beneath the White Tower, and eyed Sheriam, at her side, just as warily. The Mistress of Novices seemed expectant, perhaps even a little impatient. In her few days in Tar Valon, Nynaeve had seen only serenity in the Aes Sedai, and a smiling acceptance of events coming in their own time.
The domed room had been carved out of the bedrock of the island; the light of lamps on tall stands reflected from pale, smooth stone walls. Centered under the dome was a thing made of three rounded, silver arches, each just tall enough to walk under, sitting on a thick silver ring with their ends touching each other. Arches and ring were all of one piece. She could not see what lay inside; there the light flickered oddly, and made her stomach flutter with it if she looked too long. Where arch touched ring, an Aes Sedai sat cross-legged on the bare stone of the floor, staring at the silvery construction. Another stood nearby, beside a plain table on which sat three large silver chalices. Each, Nynaeve knew—or at least, she had been told—was filled with clear water. All four Aes Sedai wore their shawls, as Sheriam did; blue-fringed for Sheriam, red for the swarthy woman by the table, green, white, and gray for the three around the arches. Nynaeve still wore one of the dresses she had been given in Fal Dara, pale green embroidered with small white flowers.
“First you leave me to stare at my thumbs from morning to night,” Nynaeve muttered, “and now it’s all in a rush.”
“The hour waits on no woman,” Sheriam replied. “The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills, and when it wills. Patience is a virtue that must be learned, but we must all be ready for the change of an instant.”
Nynaeve tried not to glare. The most irritating thing she had yet discovered about the flame-haired Aes Sedai was that she sometimes sounded as if she were quoting sayings even when she was not. “What is that thing?”
“A ter’angreal.”
“Well, that tells me nothing. What does it do?”
“Ter’angreal do many things, child. Like angreal and sa’angreal, they are remnants of the Age of Legends that use the One Power, though they are not quite so rare as the other two. While some ter’angreal must be made to work by Aes Sedai, as this one must, others will do what they do simply with the presence of any woman who can channel. There are even supposed to be some that will function for anyone at all. Unlike angreal and sa’angreal, they were made to do specific things. One other we have in the Tower makes oaths binding. When you are raised to full sisterhood, you will take your final vows holding that ter’angreal. To speak no word that is not true. To make no weapon for one man to kill another. Never to use the One Power as a weapon except against Darkfriends or Shadowspawn, or in the last extreme of defending your own life, that of your Warder, or that of another sister.”
Nynaeve shook her head. It sounded either like too much to swear or too little, and she said so.
“Once, Aes Sedai were not required to swear oaths. It was known what Aes Sedai were and what they stood for, and there was no need for more. Many of us wish it were so still. But the Wheel turns, and the times change. That we swear these oaths, that we are known to be bound, allows the nations to deal with us without fearing that we will throw up our own power, the One Power, against them. Between the Trolloc Wars and the War of the Hundred Years we made these choices, and because of them the White Tower still stands, and we can still do what we can against the Shadow.” Sheriam drew a deep breath. “Light, child, I am trying to teach you what any other woman standing where you are would have learned over the course of years. It cannot be done. Ter’angreal are what must concern you, now. We don’t know why they were made. We dare use only a handful of them, and the ways in which we do dare to use them may be nothing like the purposes the makers intended. Most, we have learned to our cost to avoid. Over the years, no few Aes Sedai have been killed or had their Talent burned out of them, learning that.”
Nynaeve shivered. “And you want me to walk into this one?” The light inside the arches flickered less, now, but she could see what lay in it no better.
“We know what this one does.  Sheriam smiled pleasantly. “No one will ask you what you have faced; you need tell no more than you wish. Every woman’s fears are her own property.”
Vaguely, Nynaeve thought about her nervousness concerning spiders, especially in the dark, but she did not think that was what Sheriam meant. “I just walk through one arch and out another? Three times through, and it’s done?”
The Aes Sedai adjusted her shawl with an irritated hitch of her shoulder. “If you wish to boil it down that far, yes,” she said dryly. “I told you on the way here what you must know about the ceremony, as much as anyone is allowed to know beforehand. If you were a novice come to this, you would know it by heart, but don’t worry about making mistakes. I will remind you, if necessary.  If you want to stop now, I can still write your name in the novice book.”
“No!”
“Very well, then. Two things I will tell you now that no woman hears until she is in this room. The first is this. Once you begin, you must continue to the end. Refuse to go on, and no matter your potential, you will be very kindly put out of the Tower with enough silver to support you for a year, and you will never be allowed back.” Nynaeve opened her mouth to say she would not refuse, but Sheriam cut her off with a sharp gesture. “Listen, and speak when you know what to say. Second. To seek, to strive, is to know danger. You will know danger here. Some women have entered, and never come out. When the ter’angreal was allowed to grow quiet, they—were—not—there. And they were never seen again. If you will survive, you must be steadfast. Falter, fail, and . . . ” Her silence was more eloquent than any words. “This is your last chance, child. You may turn back now, right now, and I will put your name in the novice book, and you will have only one mark against you. Twice more you will be allowed to come here, and only at the third refusal will you be put out of the Tower. It is no shame to refuse. Many do. I myself could not do it, my first time here. Now you may speak.”
Nynaeve gave the silver arches a sidelong look. The light in them no longer flickered; they were filled with a soft, white glow. To learn what she wanted to learn, she needed the freedom of the Accepted to question, to study on her own, with no more guidance than she asked for. I must make Moiraine pay for what she has done to us. I must. “I am ready.”
Sheriam started slowly into the chamber. Nynaeve went beside her.
As if that were a signal, the Red sister spoke in loud, formal tones.  The three Aes Sedai around the ter’angreal continued their attentions to it.
“One who comes as a candidate for Acceptance, Sister,” Sheriam replied just as formally.
“Is she ready?”
“She is ready to leave behind what she was, and, passing through her fears, gain Acceptance.”
“Does she know her fears?”
“She has never faced them, but now is willing.”
“Then let her face what she fears.”
Sheriam stopped, two spans from the arches, and Nynaeve stopped with her. “Your dress,” Sheriam whispered, not looking at her.
Nynaeve’s cheeks colored at forgetting already what Sheriam had told her on the way down from her room. Hastily she removed her clothes, her shoes and stockings. For a moment she could almost forget the arches in folding her garments and putting them neatly to one side. She tucked Lan’s ring carefully under her dress; she did not want anyone staring at that. Then she was done, and the ter’angreal was still there, still waiting.
The stone felt cold under her bare feet, and she broke out all over in goose bumps, but she stood straight and breathed slowly. She would not let any of them see she was afraid.
“The first time,” Sheriam said, “is for what was. The way back will come but once. Be steadfast.”
Nynaeve hesitated. Then she stepped forward, through the arch and into the glow. It surrounded her, as if the air itself were shining, as if she were drowning in light. The light was everywhere. The light was everything.
Nynaeve gave a start when she realized she was naked, then stared in amazement. A stone wall stood to either side of her, twice as tall as she was and smooth, as if carved. Her toes wriggled on dusty, uneven stone paving. The sky above seemed flat and leaden, for all the lack of clouds, and the sun hung overhead swollen and red. In both directions were openings in the wall, gateways marked by short, square columns. The walls narrowed her field of view, but the ground sloped down from where she stood, both in front and behind. Through the gateways she could see more thick walls, and passages between. She was in a gigantic maze.
Where it this? How did I come here? Like a different voice, another thought came. The way out will come but once.
She shook her head. “If there’s only one way out, I’ll not find it standing here.” At least the air was warm and dry. “I hope I find some clothes before I find people,” she muttered.
Dimly, she remembered playing mazes on paper as a child; there had been a trick to finding your way out, but she could not bring it to mind. Everything in the past seemed vague, as if it had happened to someone else. Trailing a hand along the wall, she started out, dust rising in puffs beneath her bare feet.
At the first opening in the wall, she found herself peering down another passage that seemed indistinguishable from the one she was in already. Taking a deep breath, she went on straight, through more passages that all looked exactly alike. Presently she came to something different. The way forked. She took the left turning, and eventually it forked again. Once more she went left. At the third fork, left brought her to a blank wall.
Grimly she walked back to the last fork and went right. This time it took four turnings right to bring her to a dead end. For a moment, she stood glaring at it. “How did I get here?” she demanded loudly. “Where is this place?” The way out will come but once.
Once more she turned back. She was sure there had to be a trick to the maze. At the last fork, she went left, then right at the next. Determined, she kept on. Left, then right. Straight until she came to a fork. Left, then right.
It seemed to her to be working. At least, she had gone past a dozen forkings this time without finding an end. She came to another.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flicker of motion. When she turned to look, there was only the dusty passage between smooth stone walls. She started to take the left fork . . . and spun around at another glimpse of movement. There was nothing there, but this time she was sure. There had been someone behind her. Was someone. She broke into a nervous trot in the opposite direction.
Again and again, now, just at the edge of vision down this side passage or that, she saw something move, too quick to make out, gone before she could turn her head to see it plainly. She broke into a run. Few boys had been able to outrun her when she was a girl in the Two Rivers. The Two Rivers? What is that?
A man stepped out from an opening ahead of her. His dark clothes had a musty, half-rotted look, and he was old. Older than old. Skin like crazed parchment covered his skull too tightly, as if there were no flesh beneath. Wispy tufts of brittle hair covered a scabbed scalp, and his eyes were so sunken they seemed to peer out of two caves.
She skidded to a stop, the uneven paving stones rough under her feet.
“I am Aginor,” he said, smiling, “and I have come for you.”
Her heart tried to leap out of her chest. One of the Forsaken. “No. No, it cannot be!”
“You are a pretty one, girl. I will enjoy you.”
Suddenly Nynaeve remembered she wore not a stitch. With a yelp and a face red only partly from anger, she darted away down the nearest crossing passage. Cackling laughter pursued her, and the sound of a shuffling run that seemed to match her best speed, and breathy promises of what he would do when he caught her, promises that curdled her stomach even only half heard.
Desperately she searched for a way out, peering frantically as she ran with fists clenched. The way out will come but once. Be steadfast. There was nothing, only more of the endless maze. As hard as she could run, his filthy words came always right behind her. Slowly, fear turned completely to anger.
“Burn him!” she sobbed. “The Light burn him! He has no right!” Within her she felt a flowering, an opening up, an unfolding to light.
Teeth bared, she turned to face her pursuer just as Aginor appeared, laughing, in a lurching gallop.
“You have no right!” She flung her fist toward him, fingers opening as if she were throwing something. She was only half surprised to see a ball of fire leave her hand.
It exploded against Aginor’s chest, knocking him to the ground. For only an instant he sprawled there, then rose, staggering. He seemed unaware of the smoldering front of his coat. “You dare? You dare!” He quivered, and spittle leaked down his chin.
Abruptly there were clouds in the sky, threatening billows of gray and black. Lightning leaped from the cloud, straight for Nynaeve’s heart.
It seemed to her, just for a heartbeat, as if time had suddenly slowed, as though that heartbeat took forever. She felt the flow inside her—saidar, came a distant thought—felt the answering flow in the lightning. And she altered the direction of the flow. Time leaped forward.
With a crash, the bolt shattered stone above Aginor’s head. The Forsaken’s sunken eyes widened, and he tottered back. “You cannot! It cannot be!” He leaped away as lightning struck where he had stood, stone erupting in a fountain of shards.
Grimly Nynaeve started toward him. And Aginor fled.
Saidar was a torrent racing through her. She could feel the rocks around her, and the air, feel the tiny, flowing bits of the One Power that suffused them, and made them. And she could feel Aginor doing . . . something, as well. Dimly she felt it, and far distant, as if it were something she could never truly know, but around her she saw the effects and knew them for what they were.
The ground rumbled and heaved under her feet. Walls toppled in front of her, piles of stone to block her way. She scrambled over them, uncaring if sharp rock cut hands and feet, always keeping Aginor in sight. A wind rose, howling down the passages against her, raging till it flattened her cheeks and made her eyes water, trying to knock her down; she changed the flow, and Aginor tumbled along the passageway like an uprooted bush. She touched the flow in the ground, redirected it, and stone walls collapsed around Aginor, sealing him in. Lightning fell with her glare, striking around him, stone exploding ever closer and closer. She could feel him fighting to push it back at her, but foot by foot the dazzling bolts moved toward the Forsaken.
Something gleamed off to her right, something uncovered by the collapsing walls.
Nynaeve could feel Aginor weakening, feel his efforts to strike at her grow more feeble and more frantic. Yet somehow she knew he had not given up. If she let him go now, he would chase after her as strongly as before, convinced she was too weak to defeat him after all, too weak to stop him from doing with her as he wished.
A silver arch stood where stone had been, an arch filled with soft silver radiance. The way back . . .
She knew when the Forsaken abandoned his attack, the moment when all his efforts were given over to staving her off. And his power was not enough, he could no longer deflect her blows. Now he had to fling himself away from the leaping gouts of stone thrown up by her lightning, the explosions flinging him down again.
The way back will come but once. Be steadfast.
The lightning no longer fell. Nynaeve turned from the scrabbling Aginor to look at the arch. She looked back at Aginor, just in time to see him crawl out of sight over the mounded stone and disappear. She hissed in frustration. Much of the maze still stood, and a hundred new places to hide in the rubble she and the Forsaken had made. It would take time to find him again, but she was sure if she did not find him first, he would find her. In his full strength, he would come on her when she least expected him.
The way back will come but once.
Frightened, she looked again and was relieved to see the arch still there. If she could find Aginor quickly . . .
Be steadfast.
With a cry of thwarted anger, she climbed over the tumbled stone toward the arch. “Whoever’s responsible for me being here,” she muttered, “I’ll make them wish they had gotten what Aginor got. I’ll—” She stepped into the arch, and the light overwhelmed her.
“I’ll—” Nynaeve stepped out of the arch and stopped to stare. It was all as she remembered—the silver ter’angreal, the Aes Sedai, the chamber—but remembering was like a blow, absent memories crashing back into her head. She had come out of the same arch by which she went in.
The Red sister raised one of the silver chalices high and poured a stream of cool, clear water over Nynaeve’s head. “You are washed clean of what sin you may have done,” the Aes Sedai intoned, “and of those done against you. You are washed clean of what crime you may have committed, and of those committed against you. You come to us washed clean and pure, in heart and soul.”
Nynaeve shivered as the water ran down her body, dripping on the floor.
Sheriam took her arm with a relieved smile, but the Mistress of Novices’ voice gave no hint of past worry. “You do well so far. Coming back is doing well. Remember what your purpose is, and you will continue to be well.” The redhead began to lead her around the ter’angreal to another arch.
“It was so real,” Nynaeve said in a whisper. She could remember everything, remember channeling the One Power as easily as lifting her hand. She could remember Aginor, and the things the Forsaken wanted to do to her. She shivered again. “Was it real?”
“No one knows,” Sheriam replied. “It seems real in memory, and some have come out bearing the actual wounds of hurts taken inside. Others have been cut to the bone inside, and come back without a mark. It is all of it different every time for every woman who goes in. The ancients said there were many worlds. Perhaps this ter’angreal takes you to them. Yet if so, it does so under very stringent rules for something meant just to take you from one place to another. I believe it is not real. But remember, whether what happens is real or not, the danger is as real as a knife plunging into your heart.”
“I channeled the Power. It was so easy.”
Sheriam missed a step. “That isn’t supposed to be possible. You should not even remember being able to channel.” She studied Nynaeve. “And yet you are not harmed. I can still sense the ability in you, as strong as it ever was.”
“You sound as if it were dangerous,” Nynaeve said slowly, and Sheriam hesitated before answering.
“It isn’t thought necessary to give a warning, since you shouldn’t be able to remember it, but . . . This ter’angreal was found during the Trolloc Wars. We have the records of its examination in the archives. The first sister to enter was warded as strongly as she could be, since no one knew what it would do. She kept her memories, and she channeled the One Power when she was threatened. And she came out with her abilities burned to nothing, unable to channel, unable even to sense the True Source. The second to go in was also warded, and she, too, was destroyed in the same way. The third went unprotected, remembered nothing once she was inside, and returned unharmed. That is one reason why we send you completely unprotected. Nynaeve, you must not channel inside the ter’angreal again. I know it is hard to remember anything, but try.”
Nynaeve swallowed. She could remember everything, could remember not remembering. “I won’t channel,” she said. If I can remember not to. She wanted to laugh hysterically.
They had reached the next arch. The glow still filled them all. Sheriam gave Nynaeve a last warning look, and left her standing alone.
“The second time is for what is. The way back will come but once. Be steadfast.”
Nynaeve stared at the shining silver arch. What is in there this time? The others were waiting, watching. She stepped firmly through into the light.
Nynaeve stared down at the plain brown dress she wore with surprise, then gave a start. Why was she staring at her own dress? The way back will come but once.
Looking around her, she smiled. She stood on the edge of the Green in Emond’s Field, with thatch-roofed houses all around, and the Winespring Inn right in front of her. The Winespring itself rose in a gush from the stone outcrop thrusting up through the grass of the Green, and the Winespring Water rushed off east under the willows beside the inn. The streets were empty, but most people would be at their chores this time of the morning.
Looking at the inn, her smile faded. There was more than an air of neglect about it, whitewash faded, a shutter hanging loose, the rotted end of a rafter showing at a gap in the roof tiles. What’s gotten into Bran? Is he spending so much time being Mayor he’s forgetting to take care of his inn?
The inn door swung open, and Cenn Buie came out, stopping dead when he saw her. The old thatcher was as gnarled as an oak root, and the look he gave her was just as friendly. “So you’ve come back, have you? Well, you might as well be off again.”
She frowned as he spat at her feet and hurried on past her; Cenn was never a pleasant man, but he was seldom openly rude. Never to her, at least. Never to her face. Following him with her eye, she saw signs of neglect all through the village, thatch that should have been mended, weeds filling yards. The door on Mistress al’Caar’s house hung aslant on a broken hinge.
Shaking her head, Nynaeve pushed into the inn. I’ll have more than one word with Bran about this.
The common room was empty except for a lone woman, her thick, graying braid pulled over her shoulder. She was wiping a table, but from the way she stared at the tabletop, Nynaeve did not think she was aware of what she doing. The room seemed dusty.
“Marin?”
Marin al’Vere jumped, one hand clutching her throat, and stared. She looked years older than Nynaeve remembered. Worn. “Nynaeve? Nynaeve! Oh, it is you. Egwene? Have you brought Egwene back? Say you have.”
“I . . . ” Nynaeve put a hand to her head. Where is Egwene? It seemed she should be able to remember. “No. No, I haven’t brought her back.” The way back will come but once.
Mistress al’Vere sagged into one of the straight-backed chairs. “I was so hoping. Ever since Bran died . . . ”
“Bran is dead?” Nynaeve could not imagine it; that broad, smiling man had always seemed as if he would go on forever. “I should have been here.”
The other woman jumped to her feet and hurried to peer anxiously through a window at the Green and the village. “If Malena knows you’re here, there will be trouble. I just know Cenn went scurrying off to find her. He’s the Mayor, now.”
“Cenn? How did even those wool-headed men choose Cenn?”
“It was Malena. She had the whole Women’s Circle after their husbands for him.” Marin pressed her face almost against the window, trying to look every way at once. “Silly men don’t talk about whose name they’re putting in the box beforehand; I suppose every man who voted for Cenn thought he was the only one whose wife had badgered him into it. Thought one vote would make no difference. Well, they learned better. We all did.”
“Who is this Malena who has the Women’s Circle doing her bidding? I’ve never heard of her.”
“She’s from Watch Hill. She’s the Wis . . . ” Marin turn from the window wringing her hands. “Malena Aylar’s the Wisdom, Nynaeve. When you didn’t come back . . . Light, I hope she doesn’t find out you’re here.”
Nynaeve shook her head in wonder. “Marin, you’re afraid of her. You are shaking. What kind of woman is she? Why did the Women’s Circle ever choose someone like her?”
Mistress al’Vere gave a bitter laugh. “We must have been mad. Malena came down to see Mavra Mallen the day before Mavra had to go back to Deven Ride, and that night some children took sick, and Malena stayed to look after them, and then the sheep started dying, and Malena took care of that, too. It just seemed natural to choose her, but . . . She’s a bully, Nynaeve. She browbeats you into doing what she wants. She keeps at you, and keeps at you, until you’re too tired to say no anymore. And worse. She knocked Alsbet Luhhan down.”
A picture flashed in Nynaeve’s head of Alsbet Luhhan and her husband, Haral, the blacksmith. She was nearly as tall as him, and stoutly built, though handsome. “Alsbet’s almost as strong as Haral. I can’t believe . . . ”
“Malena’s not a big woman, but she’s—she’s fierce, Nynaeve. She beat Alsbet all around the Green with a stick, and none of us who saw had the nerve to try to stop it. When they found out, Bran and Haral said she had to go, even if they were interfering in Women’s Circle business. I think some of the Circle might have listened, but Bran and Haral both took sick the same night, and died within a day of each other.” Marin bit her lip and looked around the room as if she thought someone might be hiding there. Her voice lowered. “Malena mixed medicine for them. She said it was her duty even if they had spoken against her. I saw . . . I saw gray fennel in what she took away with her.”
Nynaeve gasped. “But . . . Are you sure, Marin? Are you certain?” The other woman nodded, her face wrinkling on the point of tears. “Marin, if you even suspected this woman might have poisoned Bran, how could you not go to the Circle?”
“She said Bran and Haral didn’t walk in the Light,” Marin mumbled, “talking against the Wisdom the way they did. She said that was why they died; the Light abandoned them. She talks about sin all the time. She said Paet al’Caar sinned, talking against her after Bran and Haral died. All he said was she didn’t have the way with Healing you did, but she drew the Dragon’s Fang on his door, right out where everyone could see her with the charcoal in her hand. Both his boys were dead before the week was out—just dead when their mother went to wake them. Poor Nela. We found her wandering, laughing and crying all at the same time, screaming that Paet was the Dark One, and he’d killed her boys. Paet hung himself the next day.” She shuddered, and her voice went so soft Nynaeve could barely hear it. “I have four daughters still living under my roof. Living, Nynaeve. Do you understand what I’m saying. They’re still alive, and I want to keep them alive.”
Nynaeve felt cold to her bones. “Marin, you can’t allow this.” The way back will come but once. Be steadfast. She pushed it away. “If the Women’s Circle stands together, you can be rid of her.”
“Stand together against Malena?” Marin’s laugh was nearer a sob. “We’re all afraid of her. But she’s good with the children. There are always children sick these days, it seems, but Malena does the best she can. Almost no one ever died of sickness when you were Wisdom.”
“Marin, listen to me.  If she can’t make you afraid of her, she makes you think you need her for the children. She’s doing it, Marin. Just as she did it to Bran.”
“She couldn’t,” Marin breathed. “She wouldn’t. Not the little ones.”
“She is, Marin.” The way back—Nynaeve suppressed the thought ruthlessly. “Is there anyone in the Circle who isn’t afraid? Anyone who will listen?”
The other woman said, “No one who isn’t afraid. But Corin Ayellin might listen. If she does, she might bring two or three more. Nynaeve, if enough of the Circle listens, will you be our Wisdom again? I think you may be the only one who won’t back down to Malena, even if we all know. You don’t know what she’s like.”
“I will.” The way back—No! These are my people! “Get your cloak, and we’ll go to Corin.”
Marin was hesitant about leaving the inn, and once Nynaeve had her outside she slunk along from doorstep to doorstep, crouching and watching.
Before they were halfway to Corin Ayellin’s house, Nynaeve saw a tall, scrawny woman striding down the other side of the Green toward the inn, slashing the heads off weeds with a thick willow switch. Bony as she was, she had a look of wiry strength, and a set, determined slash of a mouth. Cenn Buie scuttled along in her wake.
“Malena.” Marin pulled Nynaeve into the space between two houses, and whispered as if afraid the woman might hear across the Green. “I knew Cenn would go to her.”
Something made Nynaeve look over her shoulder. Behind her stood a silver arch, reaching from house to house, glowing whitely. The way back will come but once. Be steadfast.
Marin gave a soft scream. “She’s seen us. Light help us, she’s coming this way!”
The tall woman had turned across the Green, leaving Cenn standing uncertainly. There was no uncertainty on Malena’s face. She walked slowly, as if there were no hope of escape, a cruel smile growing with every step.
Marin tugged at Nynaeve’s sleeve. “We have to run. We have to hide. Nynaeve, come on. Cenn will have told her who you are. She hates anyone even to speak of you.”
The silver arch pulled Nynaeve’s eyes. The way back . . . She shook her head, trying to remember. It is not real. She looked at Marin; stark terror twisted the woman’s face. You must be steadfast to survive.
“Please, Nynaeve. She’s seen me with you. She—has—seen—me! Please, Nynaeve!”
Malena came closer, implacable. My people. The arch shone. The way back. It is not real.
With a sob, Nynaeve tore her arm out of Marin’s grasp and plunged toward the silvery glow.
Marin’s shriek hounded her. “For the love of the Light, Nynaeve, help me! HELP ME!”
The glow enveloped her.
Staring, Nynaeve staggered out of the arch, barely aware of the chamber or the Aes Sedai.  She did not flinch when cold water was suddenly poured over her head.
“You are washed clean of false pride. You are washed clean of false ambition. You come to us washed clean, in heart and soul.” As the Red Aes Sedai stepped back, Sheriam came to take Nynaeve’s arm.
Nynaeve gave a start, then realized who it was. She seized the collar of Sheriam’s dress in both hands. “Tell me it was not real. Tell me!”
“Bad?” Sheriam pried her hands loose as if she were used to this reaction. “It is always worse, and the third is the worst of all.”
“I left my friend . . . I left my people . . . in the Pit of Doom to come back.” Please, Light, it was not real. I didn’t really . . . I have to make Moiraine pay. I have to!
“There is always some reason not to return, something to prevent you, or distract you. This ter’angreal weaves traps for you from your own mind, weaves them tight and strong, harder than steel and more deadly than poison. That is why we use it as a test. You must want to be Aes Sedai more than anything else in the whole world, enough to face anything, fight free of anything, to achieve it. The White Tower cannot accept less. We demand it of you.”
“You demand a great deal.” Nynaeve stared at the third arch as the red haired Aes Sedai took her toward it. The third is the worst. “I’m afraid,” she whispered. What could be worse than what I just did?
“Good,” Sheriam said. “You seek to be Aes Sedai, to channel the One Power. No one should approach that without fear and awe.  She turned Nynaeve to face the arch, but she did not step back immediately. “No one will force you to enter a third time, child.”
Nynaeve licked her lips. “If I refuse, you’ll put me out of the Tower and never let me come back.” Sheriam nodded. “And this is the worst.” Sheriam nodded again. Nynaeve drew breath. “I am ready.”
“The third time,” Sheriam intoned formally, “is for what will be. The way back will come but once. Be steadfast.”
Nynaeve threw herself at the arch in a run.
Laughing, she ran through swirling clouds of butterflies rising from wildflowers that covered the hilltop meadow with a knee-deep blanket of color. Her gray mare danced nervously, reins dangling, at the edge of the meadow, and Nynaeve stopped running so as not to frighten the animal more. Some of the butterflies settled on her dress, on flowers of embroidery and seed pearls, or flittered around the sapphires and moonstones in her hair, hanging loose about her shoulders.
Below the hill, the necklace of the Thousand Lakes spread through the city of Malkier, reflecting the cloud-brushing Seven Towers, with Golden Crane banners flying at their heights in the mists. The city had a thousand gardens, but she preferred this wild garden on the hilltop. The way back will come but once. Be steadfast.
The sound of hooves made her turn.
Al’Lan Mandragoran, King of Malkier, leaped from the back of his charger and strolled toward her through the butterflies, laughing. His face had the look of a hard man, but the smiles he wore for her softened the stony planes.
She gaped at him, taken by surprise when he gathered her into his arms and kissed her. For a moment she clung to him, lost, kissing him back. Her feet dangled a foot in the air, and she did not care.
Suddenly she pushed at him, pulled her face back. “No.” She pushed harder. “Let me go. Put me down.” Puzzled, he lowered her until her feet touched ground; she backed away from him. “Not this,” she said. “I cannot face this. Anything but this.” Please, let me face Aginor again. Memory swirled. Aginor? She did not know where that thought had come from. Memory lurched and tilted, shifting fragments like broken ice on a flooding river. She clawed for the pieces, clawed for something to hang on to.
“Are you well, my love?” Lan asked worriedly.
“Do not call me that! I am not your love! I cannot marry you!”
He startled her by throwing back his head and roaring with laughter. “Your implication that we are not married might upset our children, wife. And how are you not my love? I have no other, and will have no other.”
“I must go back.” Desperately she looked for the arch, found only meadow and sky. Harder than steel and more deadly than poison. Lan. Lan’s babies. Light, help me! “I must go back now.”
“Go back? Where? To Emond’s Field? If you wish it. I’ll send letters to Morgase, and command an escort.”
“Alone,” she muttered, still searching. Where is it? I have to go. “I won’t be tangled up in this. I couldn’t bear it. Not this. I have to go now!”
“Tangled up in what, Nynaeve? What is it you couldn’t bear? No, Nynaeve. You can ride alone here if you wish it, but if the Queen of the Malkieri came to Andor without a proper escort, Morgase would be scandalized, if not offended. You don’t want to offend her, do you? I thought you two were friends.”
Nynaeve felt as if she had been hit in the head, blow after dazing blow. “Queen?” she said hesitantly. “We have babies?”
“Are you certain you’re well? I think I had better take you to Sharina Sedai.”
“No.” She backed away from him again. “No Aes Sedai.” It isn’t real. I won’t be pulled into it this time. I won’t!
“Very well,” he said slowly. “As my wife, how could you not be Queen? We are Malkieri here, not southlanders. You were crowned in the Seven Towers at the same time we exchanged rings.” Unconsciously he moved his left hand; a plain gold band encircled his forefinger. She glanced at her own hand, at the ring she knew would be there; she clasped her other hand over it, but whether to deny its presence by hiding it or to hold it, she could not have said. “Do you remember, now?” he went on. He stretched out a hand as if to brush her cheek, and she went back another six steps. He sighed. “As you wish, my love. We have three children, though only one can properly be called a baby. Maric is almost to your shoulder and can’t decide if he likes horses or books better. Elnore has already begun practicing how to turn boys’ heads, when she is not pestering Sharina about when she’ll be old enough to go to the White Tower.”
“Elnore was my mother’s name,” she said softly.
“So you said when you chose it. Nynaeve—”
“No. I will not be pulled into it this time. Not this. I won’t!” Beyond him, among the trees beside the meadow, she saw the silver arch. The trees had hidden it before. The way back will come but once. She turned toward it. “I must go.” He caught her hand, and it was as if her feet had become rooted in stone; she could not make herself pull away.
“I do not know what is troubling you, wife, but whatever it is, tell me and I will make it right. I know I am not the best of husbands. I was all hard edges when I found you, but you’ve smoothed some of them away, at least.”
“You are the very best of husbands,” she murmured. To her horror, she found herself remembering him as her husband, remembering laughter and tears, bitter arguments and sweet making up. They were dim memories, but she could feel them growing stronger, warmer. “I cannot.” The arch stood there, only a few steps away. The way back will come but once. Be steadfast.
“I do not know what is happening, Nynaeve, but I feel as if I were losing you. I could not bear that.” He put a hand in her hair; closing her eyes, she pressed her cheek against his fingers. “Stay with me, always.”
“I want to stay,” she said softly. “I want to stay with you.” When she opened her eyes, the arch was gone . . . come but once. “No. No!”
Lan turned her to face him. “What troubles you? You must tell me if I’m to help.”
“This is not real.”
“Not real?   It is real. Whatever you want to be real, we can make real together, you and I.”
Wonderingly, she did look around. The meadow was still there. The Seven Towers still stood over the Thousand Lakes. The arch was gone, but nothing else had changed. I could stay here. With Lan. Nothing has changed. Her thoughts turned. Nothing has changed. Egwene is alone in the White Tower. Rand will channel the Power and go mad. And what of Mat and Perrin? Can they take back any shred of their lives? And Moiraine, who tore all our lives apart, still walks free.
“I must go back,” she whispered. Unable to bear the pain on his face, she pulled free of him.  She made the thorns sharp and cruel, wishing they could pierce her flesh, feeling as if she already hung in the blackthorn’s branches. Sheriam Sedai’s voice danced just out of hearing, telling her it was dangerous to attempt to channel the Power. The bud opened, and saidar filled her with light.
“Nynaeve, tell me what is the matter.”
Lan’s voice slid across her concentration; she refused to let herself hear it. There had to be a way back still. Staring at where the silver arch had been, she tried to find some trace of it. There was nothing.
“Nynaeve . . . ”
She tried to picture the arch in her mind, to shape it and form it to the last detail, curve of gleaming metal filled with a glow like snowy fire. It seemed to waver there, in front of her, first there between her and the trees, then not, then there . . .
“ . . . I love you . . . ”
She drew at saidar, drinking in the flow of the One Power till she thought she would burst. The radiance filling her, shining around her, hurt her own eyes. The heat seemed to consume her. The flickering arch firmed, steadied, stood whole before her.
She ran toward the silver curve, not letting herself look back. She had been sure the bitterest thing she would ever hear was Marin al’Vere’s cry for help as Nynaeve abandoned her, but that was honey beside the sound of Lan’s anguished voice pursuing her. “Nynaeve, please don’t leave me.”
The white glow consumed her.
Naked, Nynaeve staggered through the arch and fell to her knees, slack-mouthed and sobbing, tears streaming down her cheeks. Sheriam knelt beside her. She glared at the red-haired Aes Sedai.
Sheriam gave a small sigh, then pulled Nynaeve to her feet. “Child, almost every woman who does this says much the same thing. It is no small thing to be made to face your fears. What is this?” she said sharply, turning Nynaeve’s palms up.
Nynaeve’s hands quivered with a sudden pain she had not felt before. Driven through the palm of each hand, right in the center, was a long black thorn. Sheriam drew them out carefully; Nynaeve felt the cool Healing of the Aes Sedai’s touch. When each thorn came free, it left only a small scar on front and back of the hand.
Sheriam frowned. “There shouldn’t be any scarring. And how did you only get two, and both placed so precisely? If you tangled yourself in a blackthorn bush, you should be covered with scratches and thorns.”
“I should,” Nynaeve agreed bitterly. “Maybe I thought I had already paid enough.”
“There is always a price,” the Aes Sedai agreed. “Come, now. You have paid the first price. Take what you have paid for.” She gave Nynaeve a slight push forward.
Nynaeve realized there were more Aes Sedai in the chamber. The Amyrlin in her striped stole was there, with a shawled sister from each Ajah ranged to either side of her, all of them watching Nynaeve. Remembering Sheriam’s instruction, Nynaeve tottered forward and knelt before the Amyrlin.
“You are washed clean of Nynaeve al’Maera from Emond’s Field. You are washed clean of all ties that bind you to the world. You come to us washed clean, in heart and soul. You are Nynaeve al’Maera, Accepted of the White Tower.” Handing the chalice to one of the sisters, the Amyrlin drew Nynaeve to her feet. “You are sealed to us, now.”
The Amyrlin’s eyes seemed to hold a dark glow. Nynaeve’s shiver had nothing to do with being naked and wet.


Raspberry Pi 2 is a very popular credit card size computer. You can use it as an Hidrun smart device or smart gateway. You also can use our Hidrun Qupy Library in Raspberry Pi 2 to do a rapid development.
API support


Statistics current as of {{ time_stamp }}.
Basic Statistics
{% block basic_stats %}| Statistic | Value |
|---|---|
| {{ stat["Name"] }} | {{ stat["data"] }} {{ stat["units"] }} |
Plots
{% block plots %}{{ plt_data["Desc"] }}
Pivot Table Reports
{% block pivot_tables %}{{ name }} Mileage
Acknowledgements
Many thanks to Stack Overflow for helping me to figure things out!
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The "offline" searcher requires Javascript.
To get search without JS, build the `locate.d` file (see the adrdox makefile) and use it as a CGI program on a regular web server, or build with -version=embedded_httpd to embed its own server and run that.
Then, configure the server to call that script instead of loading this file, or change your skeleton.html search form action to point to it.


When you think of pizza thik about about piza palace.If you love pizza, you came to the right place! started in 2019. Pizza palace is one of the original pizzas that helped define what has become known as Windsor-style pizza for the entire region.
Pizza palace is often rated the #1 pizza place in kenya. And on the african stage ,Pizza palace is ranked among the best in a compeition in cape town ,South Africa. To whet your appetite, Pizza palace goes beyond traditional Windsor-style pizza and crafts a wide range of pizza styles and configurations with hand-tossed thin crust, deep dish,
We do home deliverly
Small=650
Medium=900
large=1500
bacon=50
chicken=50
babycon=50
Crispy=100
Stuffed=100
Gluten-Free=100
email:pizza palace
contact:+254 567 8353


--- layout: post title: Captain Kirk Embraces his Takeiness date: '2012-04-30T19:32:00.001+02:00' author: Andrea Fortuna tags: - Humor modified_time: '2012-05-02T15:40:02.661+02:00' thumbnail: http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YBW5BpjGErM/T6E4iMjgD8I/AAAAAAAACfk/uzb1kGjIWGM/s72-c/kirk.jpg blogger_id: tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948348952555789070.post-8163278881430463425 blogger_orig_url: http://oldsite.andreafortuna.org/2012/04/captain-kirk-embraces-his-takeiness-pic.html ---


Calculates bias, precision, and power for multi-level random regressions. Random regressions are types of hierarchical models in which data are structured in groups and (regression) coefficients can vary by groups. Tools to estimate model performance are designed mostly for scenarios where (regression) coefficients vary at just one level. 'MultiRR' provides simulation and analytical tools (based on 'lme4') to study model performance for random regressions that vary at more than one level (multi-level random regressions), allowing researchers to determine optimal sampling designs.
| Version: | 1.1 |
| Imports: | MASS, lme4 |
| Published: | 2015-10-21 |
| Author: | Yimen G. Araya-Ajoy |
| Maintainer: | Yimen G. Araya-Ajoy <yimencr at gmail.com> |
| License: | GPL-2 |
| NeedsCompilation: | no |
| CRAN checks: | MultiRR results |
| Reference manual: | MultiRR.pdf |
| Package source: | MultiRR_1.1.tar.gz |
| Windows binaries: | r-devel: MultiRR_1.1.zip, r-release: MultiRR_1.1.zip, r-oldrel: MultiRR_1.1.zip |
| OS X binaries: | r-release: MultiRR_1.1.tgz, r-oldrel: MultiRR_1.1.tgz |
| Old sources: | MultiRR archive |
Please use the canonical form https://CRAN.R-project.org/package=MultiRR to link to this page.


Today I needed to compare two different versions of a source file. One in the main trunk folder and the other in a previously tagged version folder. This is easily done in TortoiseSVN, snippet from the TortoiseSVN manual:
Compare two revisions of a file
If you want to compare two revisions in a file’s history, for example revisions 100 and 200 of the same file, just use TortoiseSVN => Show Log to list the revision history for that file. Pick the two revisions you want to compare then use Context Menu => Compare Revisions.
If you want to compare the same file in two different trees, for example the trunk and a branch, you can use the repository browser to open up both trees, select the file in both places, then use Context Menu => Compare Revisions.
If you want to compare two trees to see what has changed, for example the trunk and a tagged release, you can use TortoiseSVN => Revision Graph Select the two nodes to compare, then use Context Menu => Compare HEAD Revisions. This will show a list of changed files, and you can then select individual files to view the changes in detail. Alternatively use Context Menu => Unified Diff of HEAD Revisions to see a summary of all differences, with minimal context.
The process of comparing two trees is really nicely done, you get a list of all the files which have been changed between the two trees. You can then drill into this list and see the changes made to individual files. Kewl!


A voracious predator. A frantic plea for aid. Can she stop a dangerous menace from devouring the dragons’ offspring?
Rhea Monroe has missed her childhood friend. She's excited when the young dragon she grew up with returns to Earth after years away. Hearing that the dragons are in desperate need, the recent college grad immediately vows to help. But the instant they arrive in the dragon world, they're tasked with helping to defeat a frightening, formless creature known simply as The Terror.
Teaming up with her boyfriend and other allies both human and winged, the resourceful companions struggle to cultivate a plan to defeat the ravenous attacker. But after a huge misstep awakens the monstrous horror, they’re aghast as two of their own are consumed….
Can Rhea and her friends stop The Terror and prevent a devastating apocalypse?
Summoned by Dragons is an absorbing fantasy novel. If you like compassionate heroine journeys, nuanced characters, and grand new worlds, then you'll love Joan Marie Verba's sky-high adventure.
Read Summoned by Dragons to save the hatchlings today!
His love is locked inside an enigma. Can he solve the mystery to make himself a home?
A hidden kingdom. The 18th century. Alden grew weary of battle long ago. And now the honorable soldier seeks to put the horrors of war behind him to settle in a land of peace and start a family. And while an attractive shopkeeper catches his eye, he finds himself caught up in the kingdom's greatest riddle: the twelve daughters of the king and queen vanish every night and reappear in the morning with their shoes worn out.
Drawn to a shared passion for dancing as he spends more time with the woman of his dreams, Alden can't avoid a growing involvement with the land's enchanted magic. And as he does so, he starts to realize that the alluring woman he's falling for may hold the key to answering the perplexing mystery.
Can Alden unravel a magical entanglement and find his way to happily ever after?
Twelve is a charming fairy tale retelling. If you like upstanding heroes, picturesque romance, and delightful surprises, then you'll adore Joan Marie Verba's heartwarming story.
Buy Twelve to expose the realm's enchanting secrets today!
An enchanting version of a classic story...also a charming love story. - P. C. Hodgell, author of the Kencyrath Chronicles
A teen without a home. A dangerous residence.
Can she survive one terrifying night
to secure her future?
Charlene Griffin never thought she'd be without a home.  And with the owner offering the estate to anyone who can spend a full night in the haunted property, Charlene decides to risk life and limb to get off the streets.
Refusing to heed the warnings of those sent running in fear for their lives, Charlene is confident she can last from sunset to sunrise. But she'll need all her wits about her to withstand the hours of terror, because these ghosts are determined to get rid of her.
Will Charlene outsmart her supernatural foes and make it to dawn?
Defying the Ghosts is an eerie YA haunted house story. If you like heart-racing action, fearless heroes, and survival adventures, then you'll love Joan Marie Verba's thrilling tale.
Buy Defying the Ghosts to explore forbidden shadowy corners today!
A ghost needs space to haunt, and a teenager kicked out of the house by a mother unable to love, lacking money for a rental, and looking for a safe place to stay doesn't have it to offer. But the haunted house offered to Charlene if she can last the night has lost its original family, driven other would-be claimants out by the aggressive late residents, and Charlene is too determined to give up on the only option she's been able to find. Instead of exorcisms or high-tech spirit guns firing special-effects rays, she tries a simpler method for dealing with ghostly threats: compassion, fueled by stubbornness and courage. Joan Marie Verba's Defying the Ghosts offers the eerie dangers expected of ghosts, but works through to a slime-less conclusion offering an elegant win to both the living and the dead. —Ruth Berman, Minnesota Fantasy Award recipient, Midwest Book Award winner for Bradamant's Quest
Defying the Ghosts by Joan Marie Verba tells the suspenseful story of a young woman's creepy night in a
haunted house. After her mother kicks her out of her house on her eighteenth birthday, Charlene spends the next few weeks
scouting homeless shelters and camping out in the back room of the bookstore where she works. Charlene thinks she
might be in luck when she hears of a challenge: anyone who can spend the entire night in the local haunted house gets to
keep the house. It seems simple enough, but Charlene will soon risk her life on the most horrifying night of her life
as she faces the multiple ghosts who do not want anyone else in their home.
For any reader who is looking for a new kind of horror story, Defying the Ghosts is a great choice for both
teens and adults. I never knew it was possible to write a book that was simultaneously terrifying and heartwarming,
but Joan Marie Verba has flawlessly managed to do just that. Charlene's story is eye-opening and brings to light the
everyday problems and prejudices that...people face when they are trying to survive. The spooky moments of the haunted
house are fast-paced, suspenseful, and overall fun to read. I was on the edge of my seat the whole time Charlene was
in the house, and I could not put the book down. I can't wait to see what other horror tales Verba has in store.
Current cover for second edition, artwork by Phil Foglio
Cover for hardback edition, indexed
Previous cover for second edition, artwork by Janet D'Airo
Current description:
Discover the rich, untold history of early Star Trek fandom. Learn how the fans kept interest in the show alive through conventions, clubs, zines, and newsletters after it was canceled and through the times when new movies and series were produced.
Curious about the circumstances behind the cancellation of The Original Series and how viewers worked to bring it back to the large and small screens? Searching for insights into the development of the Trek fandom? Looking to connect with the originators of some of your favorite phrases? Joan Marie Verba has been a Star Trek fan since the very beginning, both as a dedicated watcher from the show’s premiere and as a formative member of the burgeoning community as far back as 1969. And now she’s here to share her compelling retrospective of how two decades of pre-internet passion for the show built a fanbase destined to live long and prosper.
Boldly Writing: A Trek Fan and Fanfiction History, 1967-1987 is an extraordinary chronology of the amateur creations used to keep the story of Star Trek going when hopes for a revival were dim. With twenty years of collected zines and insider context, Verba brings to light the powerful grassroots movement that put the starship Enterprise back on the air. Grab your copy of Boldly Writing and see exactly what it was like living as a dedicated fan before it grew into the most famous science fiction series of all time.
In Boldly Writing, you’ll discover:
Boldly Writing: A Trek Fan and Fanfiction History, 1967-1987 is your straight-to-the-point source for the impressive underpinnings of the long-living Star Trek fandom. If you like carefully crafted chronicles, stunning revelations, and surprising true stories, then you’ll love Joan Marie Verba’s fascinating book.
Buy Boldly Writing to relive those exciting events today!
From the 2003 edition:
Before the Internet, before PCs and MACs became common household items, at the dawn of the era of VCRs, Star Trek fans were making history. In Boldly Writing, Joan Marie Verba chronicles the development of Star Trek fanfiction, Star Trek conventions (the first Star Trek convention may not be the one you're thinking of), Star Trek clubs, and Star Trek revival efforts. Boldly Writing tells how the term “Mary Sue” came into being, and follows the fan and fanfiction discussions and controversies of the era. At a time when fan communication was conducted largely through the mails, and fanfiction circulated through fanzines printed on spirit duplicators and mimeographs and offset printers, Star Trek fans created a lively and active fandom that continues today.
From the 1996 edition:
WhenStar Trek began in 1966, it instantly captured the attention of science fiction fans, and gained an attentive audience. When NBC threatened to cancel the show after the second season, the fans wrote in, demanding that it be returned to the air. After the third season, Paramount, NBC, and industry experts felt Star Trek was past. But the fans did not. They started clubs, organized conventions, published newsletters, and kept writing to Paramount to ask that Star Trek be revived. Through these actions, they kept interest in the show alive and flourishing. At last, fan efforts resulted in theStar Trek movies, and Star Trek: The Next Generation. Currently, Star Trek lives on in five series—and the adventure continues.
Boldly Writing chronicles all of these fan efforts, and recognizes the most valuable resource of Star Trek: its fans. The trends, obstacles, hard work, and success of the revival efforts are detailed through the first 20 years of fan publications. Author Joan Marie Verba has been an active fan since the very beginning of Star Trek, and a zine reader, writer, publisher, and collector since 1969.Henry Jenkins, author of Textual Poachers: Television Fans and Participatory Culture
This book pulls together an incredible amount of information about the history of fandom and does a major service for anyone who either wants to relive those exciting years or to better understand how Star Trek emerged as such a national and international phenomenon. I'll give you a clue. If Star Trek lives, it's because of what early fans like Verba made of it. I strongly recommend this book to anyone interested in fandom (which increasingly means anyone interested in popular culture).
Siddig El Fadil/Alexander Siddig, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Joan Marie Verba brings back to life the heady days of Star Trek fandom, chronicling the fight to revive the original series and detailing the controversy and the gossip that fueled the first twenty years and gave birth to generations of wonderful poets and writers. I couldn't stop myself from dipping into this fascinating history.
Andrew Robinson, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Thank you for your Boldly Writing. I found it most informative, especially in light of where [the] Star Trek fanzine is now. It’s come a long way. Congratulations and continued success.
Jacqueline Lichtenberg, co-author of Star Trek Lives!
Yesterday ... the galley proofs to Boldly Writing by Joan Marie Verba arrived in the mail .... I had no idea her fanzine history was such an ambitious work. I advise any Star Trek fan who wasn’t around in 1969 to order a copy .... She has taken the amorphous welter of material that came off the fan presses and revealed a sharp, clear, and most of all, documented, print. She has shown us how Star Trek fandom was a force that gathered in, energized, trained, and produced people who have since then racked up an astounding list of achievements.... I have nothing but praise for this monumental work!”
Jean Lorrah, author of The Vulcan Academy Murders, The IDIC Epidemic, Metamorphosis, and Survivors
Little did I know on September 8, 1966 that watching a new television show would profoundly change my life. Star Trek has been inextricably woven into my existence ever since. In Boldly Writing, Joan Marie Verba chronicles the height of the fanzine phenomenon.... Joan's book is an amazing reminder of all those stories we shared, those dreams we dreamed, as we went where no fandom had gone before.
In 1977, NASA launched the space probes Voyager 1 and Voyager 2 to explore Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune. This book tells of what was known about those planets and their moons before the Voyager missions, as well as what Voyager discovered about those planets and their moons. This book is written for the middle-grade reader, and can be enjoyed by readers age 12 and up.
Booklist
Verba's account is crammed with information about the moons, rings, atmospheres, temperatures, and orbits of these planets . . . the large quantity of information makes this a worthwhile resource. . . .
Science Press
Joan Marie Verba has written a wonderful tale of the craft that have gone where no one has gone before. . . . Geared toward the intermediate student, the books is well written . . . and brimful of information.
Science Books and Films
NASA launched Voyager 1 and 2 in 1977. These flights of exploration greatly expanded our knowledge of the outer planets of the solar system. Verba gives a concise but fairly thorough description of the Voyager project from conception through the completion of the probes' photographic mission. Voyager begins with a brief discussion of the exploration of the solar system prior to the project. . . . Each of the chapters on the outer planets begins by describing what was known before Voyager, followed by what new things we learned as a result of Voyager. . . . The material is appropriate for interested 5th and 6th graders, but the vocabulary level is more at the 7th- and 8th-grade level ... this is a good account of the flights of Voyager 1 and 2 and what we learned from them.
A story of magic and triumph over hardship, with a shocking ending. At 6300 words, this story is a perfect short read.
Marlys, excited about being accepted as an apprentice sorceress, is astonished to find that the other apprentices bully her mercilessly. No matter how hard she tries, no matter what she does, she isn’t good enough. Worse, no one seems interested in teaching her sorcery. Can she become a sorceress despite this, and, if given the chance for revenge, will she take it?
Original cover
The kingdom of Somerlie has been in the grip of the evil overlord Tashtalon for over 500 years. No one has ever seen Tashtalon, but he puts the kingdom to sleep every night, and during the night, people disappear, never to be seen again. Gill has spent her life thinking these things could not possibly by changed, until strange events point her to the only thing that can defeat Tashtalon…a magical weapon called the Sword of Queens. To prevent its use, Tashtalon made a law saying that any woman wielding a sword will be put to death…and he enforces that law savagely. Can Gill summon the courage to find the sword and use it before Tashtalon kills her?
Harriet Klausner, Midwest Book Review
For over five centuries, Tashtalon the overlord has ruled the patriarchal kingdom of Somerlie with an evil iron fist. No one has ever seen Tashtalon but everyone knows of his presence especially at night when sleeping is dangerous. Each evening, Tashtalon puts his subjects to sleep two hours after sunset; and awakens them each morning two after sunrise with some vanishing overnight. No one has any hope of overthrowing this invincible malevolent God.
Twentyish Gill is like everyone else living in fear of the evil ruler; wondering if she will disappear next and knowing how helpless it is as nothing can defeat Tashtalon. Gill wonders why the overlord's most enforced law is that no woman will yield a sword with the penalty of breaking his code instant death though she assumes it has to do with females being subservient to males. As she begins her required quest year "To Find Herself", Gill thinks of her elderly grandma's tales of life before Tashtalon. On her journey Gill learns that the magical Sword of Queens can destroy Tashtalon.
Sword of Queens is an excellent coming of age quest fantasy starring a likable heroine. The vibrant Verba world of magic seems real while the vile villain is made even stronger and eviler by the fearful whispers of his subjects. Sub-genre readers will enjoy Gill's adventures in an engaging good and evil thriller.
When Rhea goes with her mother to the animal shelter, they return home with a dragon! Rhea and her family find out what Wondry Dragon eats, where she sleeps, and what she needs when going out on a walk. Almost everyone in the neighborhood is friendly to Wondry, except the neighborhood bully, Johnny. However, Rhea and Wondry have a surprise for him!
Midwest Book Review
Do you like dragons? Follow the adventures of Wondry Dragon as she finds a new home with her new human friend, Rhea, in Joan Marie Verba's delightful story, "Wondry Dragon Finds a Home." Rhea and her mom and dad have never had a dragon in the house before, and they all learn what Wondry can and cannot do. Rhea and Wondry play together, help out their neighbors—and try to stay out of trouble. Rhea can never tell what Wondry will do next because Wondry is always surprising her with what dragons can do. Wondry will surprise young readers ages 6 to 8 as well! A children's chapter book story suitable for students in grades 1-3, "Wondry Dragon Finds a Home" is very highly recommended for both community and elementary school libraries. For children's personal reading lists it should be noted that "Wondry Dragon Finds a Home" is also available in a Kindle edition
Current description:
Their goal is to make the world a better place. One billionaires’s obsession may turn their altruism into destruction.
Jay Ecklund is desperate to belong somewhere. Rejected by his family and former employer, he really needs this job as a receptionist at an up-and-coming tech corporation. He’s astonished when he discovers the all-woman staff is secretly developing a portal capable of instantaneous transport to anywhere on Earth.
Thrilled to be part of a company designing innovations to help others, Jay is excited when the machine is at last operational. But he worries about it falling into the wrong hands when an ambitious billionaire hell-bent on accumulating power makes a bid to get it…at any cost.
Will the portal be used as a rescue device as intended, or will a relentless manipulator warp it to a more sinister purpose?
The Arachne Portal is an electrifying standalone science fiction novel. If you like fast-paced adventures, phenomenal science, and thought-provoking themes, then you’ll love Joan Marie Verba’s compelling story.
Read The Arachne Portal to open a gateway to the future today!
Previous description:
The women at Modern Surprises LLC, needed someone to answer the phones. Jay Ecklund was hired. From the very first day, he found this was no ordinary company: the science division there had secretly developed a portal that would allow them to go to anywhere on Earth. Madeline Chang, a military veteran and owner of Modern Surprises, had a plan: to use the portal as a device to help those in need. However, billionaire industrialist Charles Vance found out about the portal, and was willing to lie, cheat, and steal to get it for himself. But Madeline, Jay, and the rest of the team were not about to let him have it.
A note from the author: if you enjoy television shows that show how science works, Modern Surprises is for you. I definitely had fun with the novel, and intended for the characters to have fun, as well—because I believe science is fun (I have a physics degree). Through the novel, readers experience how technology needs to be tested, how there are are unexpected effects, and how technology doesn’t always work in the way the original design indicated it might (and that can be delightful). When the characters find that the portal, Arachne, responds to music, it adds yet another dimension to the technology. I hope you’ll have fun with the story, too.
Paul Cornell, author of London Falling, The Severed Streets, and Who Killed Sherlock Holmes?
Joan’s prose is always cool, it’s a majority female team and that’s such a good title.
Keith R.A. DeCandido, IAMTW Grandmaster, author of Dragon Precinct
Modern Surprises [is] a delightful adventure story. This book is tremendous fun, and has a lot of really strong, fascinating characters, most of whom happen to be female. Really groovy stuff, and you should check it out.
Leah came to Autumn World only to observe. But when her survey ship crashes, and the other survivors, traumatized, run away, she finds herself in the midst of a political and religious struggle on an alien world she barely knows.
Midwest Book Review (Philip E. Kaveny)
The novel is well-crafted and a very good read with lots sf world-building detail which takes place on a heavier-than-earth-gravity planet with some really neat aliens. It is a lot better than 90% of the stuff that you can find on a rack at...the big chain bookstores.
Mythprint (Laura Krentz)
This is a complex and fascinating science fiction story with a well-developed but very alien world. ... Some of the aliens are extremely alien compared to humans, though they usually have understandable motivations. The book would appeal to young readers as well as adult readers.
Previous cover, artwork by Terry Miller and Rita Miller at ImagiMation 3D
Something has fallen from the sky. Could it be the Sky Dwellers, as the Old Religion foretold? If so, bloodletting is at hand: the Veen, the New Religion, will destroy anyone and anything that threatens their hold on the capital.
Something has fallen from the sky. Could it be sentients from another world? The Knowledge Brokers have recovered lost technology and used it to send signals, but it could be a Veen trap.
Something has fallen from the sky. Does it matter what it is? The local Veen prelate wants it and everyone who's seen it destroyed—except that Knowledge Broker Thiele and her beautiful, beautiful feet.
Their ship has fallen from the sky. Was it sabotage?
Short Story Collection
The Wisest Wizard: Who will be the next Wisest Wizard? Maybe not who you think.
The Sum of the Parts: Susan Page is a pacifist, who is attacked repeatedly by a criminal who evades arrest. Will she need to compromise her principles to defeat him?
This One Time: Allira Elhalyn-Alton, and her daughter, Bruna, have always been protected by the men in their life. Can they stand on their own in a crisis?
Death’s Scepter: Brothers Regis and Stefan Hastur have always been close. Will politics make them turn on each other?
Mind-eater: Domenic MacAran seeks shelter in a house where the residents are terrorized by a bully. Can they turn the tables on him?
The Honor of the Guild: A murder is committed and the Renunciates are blamed. Can Janna n’ha Cassilde solve the crime and restore the reputation of the guild?
An Invitation to Chaos: Gwynn Alton has harbored resentment of his father since childhood. Will their simmering conflict mean danger for the Domains when the Towers experiment with their powers?
The Mystery Woman of the Kilghard Hills: Young Kennard Lanart encounters a mysterious young woman in the woods, but his family is skeptical of his story. Will he, or they, uncover her secret?
Safe Passage: Orain, a peddler, is beaten and robbed and left in an approaching blizzard. Can he get his merchandise back and evade the determined robbers?
“Safe Passage” was originally published in the Darkover anthology Snows of Darkover, January 1995. Reprinted by permission.
“The Madwoman of the Kilghard Hills” (retitled “The Mystery Woman of the Kilghard Hills”) was originally published in the Darkover anthology Towers of Darkover, July 1993. Reprinted by permission.
“An Invitation to Chaos” was originally published in the Darkover anthology Leroni of Darkover, November 1991. Reprinted by permission.
“The Honor of the Guild” was originally published in the Darkover anthology Renunciates of Darkover, March 1991. Reprinted by permission.
“Mind-eater” was originally published in the Darkover anthology Domains of Darkover, March 1990. Reprinted by permission.
“Death's Scepter” was originally published in the Darkover anthology Four Moons of Darkover, November 1988. Reprinted by permission.
“This One Time” was originally published in the Darkover anthology Free Amazons of Darkover, December 1985. Reprinted by permission.


My name is Jared. I graduated in 2017 from Cornell University with a BA in Computer Science and a minor in Computing in the Arts. I am currently pursuing an MEng in Computer Science at Cornell Tech in New York City.
I write code. I arrange music. Occasionally, I even spit a verse (or a few).
I enjoy creating. I enjoy the process of developing ideas, working to create them, and seeing them brought to fruition. I began studying Computer Science in the hopes of eventually finding work in music technology/software development, an area which blends both my passion for music and my love of all things digital.


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| Paul, an apostle of Jesus Christ by the will of God, and Timotheus our brother,
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| ᏉᎳ, ᏥᏌ ᎦᎶᏁᏛ ᎠᎩᏅᏏᏛ ᎾᏍᎩᏯ ᎣᏏᏳ ᎤᏰᎸᏅ ᎤᏁᎳᏅᎯ, ᎠᎴ ᏗᎹᏗ ᎢᎩᏅᏟ,
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Quo-la, Tsi-sa Ga-lo-ne-dv a-gi-nv-si-dv na-s-gi-ya o-si-yu u-ye-lv-nv U-ne-la-nv-hi, a-le Di-ma-di i-gi-nv-tli,
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| To the saints and faithful brethren in Christ which are at Colosse: Grace be unto you, and peace, from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
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| ᏫᏨᏲᏪᎳᏏ ᎢᏣᏓᏅᏘ ᎪᎶᏏ ᎢᏤᎯ ᎠᎴ ᎢᏣᎵᏅᏟ ᎦᎶᏁᏛ ᎡᏦᎯᏳᎲᏍᎩ; ᎬᏩᎦᏘᏯ ᎤᏓᏙᎵᏍᏗ ᎨᏒ, ᎠᎴ ᏅᏩᏙᎯᏯᏛ ᎢᏤᎳᏗᏙᎮᏍᏗ ᏅᏓᏳᎾᎵᏍᎪᎸᏔᏅᎯ ᎤᏁᎳᏅᎯ ᎢᎩᏙᏓ, ᎠᎴ ᎤᎬᏫᏳᎯ ᏥᏌ ᎦᎶᏁᏛ.
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Wi-tsv-yo-we-la-si i-tsa-da-nv-ti Go-lo-si i-tse-hi a-le i-tsa-li-nv-tli Ga-lo-ne-dv e-tso-hi-yu-hv-s-gi; gv-wa-ga-ti-ya u-da-do-li-s-di ge-sv, a-le nv-wa-do-hi-ya-dv i-tse-la-di-do-he-s-di nv-da-yu-na-li-s-go-lv-ta-nv-hi U-ne-la-nv-hi I-gi-do-da, a-le U-gv-wi-yu-hi Tsi-sa Ga-lo-ne-dv.
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| We give thanks to God and the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, praying always for you,
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| ᎣᏣᎵᎡᎵᏤᎭ ᎤᏁᎳᏅᎯ ᎠᎴ ᎤᎬᏫᏳᎯ ᎢᎦᏤᎵ ᏥᏌ ᎦᎶᏁᏛ ᎤᏙᏓ, ᎣᏣᏓᏙᎵᏍᏗᏍᎪ ᏂᎪᎯᎸ ᎢᏨᏯᏅᏓᏗᏍᎪᎢ,
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O-tsa-li-e-li-tse-ha U-ne-la-nv-hi a-le U-gv-wi-yu-hi i-ga-tse-li Tsi-sa Ga-lo-ne-dv U-do-da, o-tsa-da-do-li-s-di-s-go ni-go-hi-lv i-tsv-ya-nv-da-di-s-go-i,
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| Since we heard of your faith in Christ Jesus, and of the love which ye have to all the saints,
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| ᎣᎦᏛᎦᏅᎯ ᎨᏒ ᎦᎶᏁᏛ ᏥᏌ ᎡᏦᎢᏳᏒᎢ, ᎠᎴ ᏕᏥᎨᏳᏒ ᎾᏂᎥ ᎤᎾᏓᏅᏘ;
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O-ga-dv-ga-nv-hi ge-sv Ga-lo-ne-dv Tsi-sa e-tso-i-yu-sv-i, a-le de-tsi-ge-yu-sv na-ni-v u-na-da-nv-ti;
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| For the hope which is laid up for you in heaven, whereof ye heard before in the word of the truth of the gospel;
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| ᏅᏗᎦᎵᏍᏙᏗᎭ ᎤᏚᎩ ᎢᏨᏒ ᎾᏍᎩ ᎦᎸᎳᏗ ᏤᏣᏛᏅᎢᏍᏓᏁᎸᎢ, ᎾᏍᎩ ᎦᏳᎳ ᎢᏣᏛᎦᏅᎯ ᏥᎩ ᎾᎿᎭᎦᏰᎪᎩ ᏂᎨᏒᎾ ᎣᏍᏛ ᎧᏃᎮᏛᏱ,
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Nv-di-ga-li-s-do-di-ha u-du-gi i-tsv-sv na-s-gi ga-lv-la-di tse-tsa-dv-nv-i-s-da-ne-lv-i, na-s-gi ga-yu-la i-tsa-dv-ga-nv-hi tsi-gi na-hna ga-ye-go-gi ni-ge-sv-na o-s-dv ka-no-he-dv-yi,
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| Which is come unto you, as it is in all the world; and bringeth forth fruit, as it doth also in you, since the day ye heard of it, and knew the grace of God in truth:
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| ᎾᏍᎩ ᎢᏥᎷᏤᎸᎯ ᏥᎩ, ᎾᏍᎩᏯ ᏂᎬᎾᏛ ᎡᎶᎯ ᏧᏂᎷᏤᎸ; ᎠᎴ ᏥᎦᎾᏄᎪᏫᏍᎦ ᎤᏓᏔᏅᎯ ᎾᏍᎩᏯ ᏥᏂᎦᎵᏍᏗ ᏂᎯ ᎢᏤᎲᎢ, ᏅᏓᎬᏩᏓᎴᏅᏛ ᎢᏣᏛᎦᏅ ᎾᏍᎩ, ᎠᎴ ᎤᏙᎯᏳᎯ ᎢᏥᎦᏙᎥᏒ ᎬᏩᎦᏘᏯ ᎤᏓᏙᎵᏍᏗ ᎨᏒ ᎤᏁᎳᏅᎯ;
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Na-s-gi i-tsi-lu-tse-lv-hi tsi-gi, na-s-gi-ya ni-gv-na-dv e-lo-hi tsu-ni-lu-tse-lv; a-le tsi-ga-na-nu-go-wi-s-ga u-da-ta-nv-hi na-s-gi-ya tsi-ni-ga-li-s-di ni-hi i-tse-hv-i, nv-da-gv-wa-da-le-nv-dv i-tsa-dv-ga-nv na-s-gi, a-le u-do-hi-yu-hi i-tsi-ga-do-v-sv gv-wa-ga-ti-ya u-da-do-li-s-di ge-sv U-ne-la-nv-hi;
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| As ye also learned of Epaphras our dear fellowservant, who is for you a faithful minister of Christ;
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| ᎾᏍᎩᏯ ᎾᏍᏉ ᏤᏣᏛᎦᏁᎸ ᎡᎦᏆ ᎣᏥᎨᏳᎢ ᎢᏧᎳᎭ ᎣᎩᏅᏏᏓᏍᏗ, ᏂᎯᏃ ᏥᏅᏗᎦᎵᏍᏙᏗ ᎣᏍᏛ ᎢᏯᏛᏁᎯ ᎦᎶᏁᏛ ᎤᏅᏏᏓᏍᏗ.
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Na-s-gi-ya na-s-quo tse-tsa-dv-ga-ne-lv E-ga-qua o-tsi-ge-yu-i i-tsu-la-ha o-gi-nv-si-da-s-di, ni-hi-no tsi-nv-di-ga-li-s-do-di o-s-dv i-ya-dv-ne-hi Ga-lo-ne-dv u-nv-si-da-s-di.
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| Who also declared unto us your love in the Spirit.
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| ᎾᏍᎩ ᎾᏍᏉ ᎬᏂᎨᏒ ᎢᏲᎲᏁᎸᎯ ᏕᏣᏓᎨᏒ ᎠᏓᏅᏙ ᎢᏳᏩᏂᏌᏛ.
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Na-s-gi na-s-quo gv-ni-ge-sv i-yo-hv-ne-lv-hi de-tsa-da-ge-sv A-da-nv-do i-yu-wa-ni-sa-dv.
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| For this cause we also, since the day we heard it, do not cease to pray for you, and to desire that ye might be filled with the knowledge of his will in all wisdom and spiritual understanding;
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| ᎾᏍᎩ ᎢᏳᏍᏗ ᎠᏴ ᎾᏍᏉ, ᎣᎦᏛᎦᏅ ᏅᏓᎬᏩᏓᎴᏅᏛ, ᎥᏝ ᏲᏥᏲᎯᏍᏗᏍᎪ ᎣᏣᏓᏙᎵᏍᏗᏍᎬ ᎠᎴ ᎣᏥᏔᏲᎯᎲ ᎾᏍᎩ ᎠᏓᏅᏖᏍᎬ ᎠᎦᏙᎥᎯᏍᏗ ᎨᏒ ᎢᏥᎧᎵᎢᏍᏗᏱ, ᎾᏍᎩ ᏂᎦᎥ ᎠᎦᏙᎥᎯᏍᏗ ᎨᏒ ᎠᎴ ᎠᏓᏅᏙ ᎤᎬᏩᎵ ᎪᎵᏥᏓᏍᏗ ᎨᏒᎢ;
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Na-s-gi i-yu-s-di a-yv na-s-quo, o-ga-dv-ga-nv nv-da-gv-wa-da-le-nv-dv, v-tla yo-tsi-yo-hi-s-di-s-go o-tsa-da-do-li-s-di-s-gv a-le o-tsi-ta-yo-hi-hv na-s-gi a-da-nv-te-s-gv a-ga-do-v-hi-s-di ge-sv i-tsi-ka-li-i-s-di-yi, na-s-gi ni-ga-v a-ga-do-v-hi-s-di ge-sv a-le a-da-nv-do u-gv-wa-li go-li-tsi-da-s-di ge-sv-i;
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| That ye might walk worthy of the Lord unto all pleasing, being fruitful in every good work, and increasing in the knowledge of God;
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| ᎾᏍᎩ ᎢᏣᎴᏂᏓᏍᏗᏱ ᎾᏍᎩᏯ ᎤᎬᏫᏳᎯ ᏗᏂᎧᎿᎭᏩᏕᎩ ᎢᏳᎾᏛᏁᏗ ᎨᏒᎢ, ᏂᎦᎥ ᎣᏏᏳ ᎤᏰᎸᏗ ᎨᏒᎢ, ᎾᏍᎩ ᎣᏍᏛ ᏗᎦᎸᏫᏍᏓᏁᏗ ᎨᏒᎢ, ᎤᏣᏘ ᎢᏥᎾᏄᎪᏫᏍᎬᎢ, ᎠᎴ ᎧᏁᏉᎬ ᎡᏥᎦᏙᎥᏍᎬ ᎤᏁᎳᏅᎯ;
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Na-s-gi i-tsa-le-ni-da-s-di-yi na-s-gi-ya U-gv-wi-yu-hi di-ni-ka-hna-wa-de-gi i-yu-na-dv-ne-di ge-sv-i, ni-ga-v o-si-yu u-ye-lv-di ge-sv-i, na-s-gi o-s-dv di-ga-lv-wi-s-da-ne-di ge-sv-i, u-tsa-ti i-tsi-na-nu-go-wi-s-gv-i, a-le ka-ne-quo-gv e-tsi-ga-do-v-s-gv U-ne-la-nv-hi;
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| Strengthened with all might, according to his glorious power, unto all patience and longsuffering with joyfulness;
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| ᏕᏣᎵᏂᎪᏍᎬᎢ ᎬᏔᏅᎯ ᎤᏣᏘ ᎤᎵᏂᎩᏛ ᎨᏒᎢ, ᎾᏍᎩᏯ ᏄᎵᏂᎬᎬ ᎦᎸᏉᏗᏳ ᎤᏤᎵᎦ, ᎾᏍᎩ ᏂᎦᎥᏉ ᎤᎬᏩᎵ ᏗᏨᏂᏗᏳ ᎢᏣᎵᏍᏙᏗᏱ, ᎠᎴ ᎪᎯᏗᏳ ᎤᏁᎳᎩ ᎢᏤᎵᏍᎬ ᎢᏥᎩᎵᏲᎬᎢ, ᎤᎵᏠᏯᏍᏙᏗᏱ ᎠᎵᎮᎵᏍᏗ ᎨᏒᎢ;
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De-tsa-li-ni-go-s-gv-i gv-ta-nv-hi u-tsa-ti u-li-ni-gi-dv ge-sv-i, na-s-gi-ya nu-li-ni-gv-gv ga-lv-quo-di-yu u-tse-li-ga, na-s-gi ni-ga-v-quo u-gv-wa-li di-tsv-ni-di-yu i-tsa-li-s-do-di-yi, a-le go-hi-di-yu u-ne-la-gi i-tse-li-s-gv i-tsi-gi-li-yo-gv-i, u-li-tlo-ya-s-do-di-yi a-li-he-li-s-di ge-sv-i;
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| Giving thanks unto the Father, which hath made us meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light:
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| ᎡᏣᎵᎡᎵᏤᎲ ᎠᎦᏴᎵᎨᎢ ᎾᏍᎩ ᏰᎵᏉ ᎢᎦᏠᏯᏍᏙᏗ ᎢᎬᏩᎵᏍᏙᏗ ᎢᎬᏁᎸᎯ ᏥᎩ ᎤᎾᏤᎵ ᎢᏳᎵᏍᏙᏗ ᎨᏒ ᎤᎾᏓᏅᏘ ᎢᎦ-ᎦᏛ ᎠᏁᎯ;
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E-tsa-li-e-li-tse-hv A-ga-yv-li-ge-i na-s-gi ye-li-quo i-ga-tlo-ya-s-do-di i-gv-wa-li-s-do-di i-gv-ne-lv-hi tsi-gi u-na-tse-li i-yu-li-s-do-di ge-sv u-na-da-nv-ti i-ga--ga-dv a-ne-hi;
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| Who hath delivered us from the power of darkness, and hath translated us into the kingdom of his dear Son:
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| ᎾᏍᎩ ᎢᎫᏓᎴᏛ ᏥᎩ ᎤᎵᏂᎩᏗᏳ ᎨᏒ ᎤᎵᏏᎩ, ᎠᎴ ᎾᏍᎩ ᏫᏗᎩᎧᏅᎯ ᏥᎩ ᎾᎿᎭᎤᎬᏫᏳᎯ ᎨᏒ ᎤᎨᏳᎯ ᎤᏪᏥ;
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Na-s-gi i-gu-da-le-dv tsi-gi u-li-ni-gi-di-yu ge-sv u-li-si-gi, a-le na-s-gi wi-di-gi-ka-nv-hi tsi-gi na-hna u-gv-wi-yu-hi ge-sv u-ge-yu-hi U-we-tsi;
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| In whom we have redemption through his blood, even the forgiveness of sins:
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| ᎾᏍᎩ ᎢᏳᏩᏂᏌᏛ ᎡᎦᎫᏴᏛ ᏥᎩ ᎤᎩᎬ ᎬᏔᏅᎯ, ᎾᏍᎩ ᎢᎩᏍᎦᏅᏨ ᎡᎩᏙᎵᏨᎢ;
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Na-s-gi i-yu-wa-ni-sa-dv e-ga-gu-yv-dv tsi-gi u-gi-gv gv-ta-nv-hi, na-s-gi i-gi-s-ga-nv-tsv e-gi-do-li-tsv-i;
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| Who is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of every creature:
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| ᎾᏍᎩ ᏣᎦᏟᎶᏍᏔᏅᎯ ᏥᎩ ᏄᏍᏛ ᎬᎪᏩᏛᏗ ᏂᎨᏒᎾ ᎤᏁᎳᏅᎯ, ᎾᏍᎩ ᎢᎬᏱ ᎤᏕᏅᎯ ᏥᎩ ᏂᎦᏗᏳ ᎨᎦᏁᎳᏅᎯ ᎠᏁᎲᎢ.
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Na-s-gi tsa-ga-tli-lo-s-ta-nv-hi tsi-gi nu-s-dv gv-go-wa-dv-di ni-ge-sv-na U-ne-la-nv-hi, na-s-gi i-gv-yi u-de-nv-hi tsi-gi ni-ga-di-yu ge-ga-ne-la-nv-hi a-ne-hv-i.
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| For by him were all things created, that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers: all things were created by him, and for him:
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| ᎾᏍᎩᏰᏃ ᏂᎦᎥ ᎪᎱᏍᏗ ᏧᏬᏢᏅᎯ, ᎾᏍᎩ ᎦᎸᎳᏗ ᏤᎭ, ᎠᎴ ᎡᎶᎯ ᏤᎭ, ᎬᎪᏩᏛᏗ ᎠᎴ ᎬᎪᏩᏛᏗ ᏂᎨᏒᎾ ᏥᎩ, ᎢᏳ ᎤᏂᎬᏫᏳᎯ ᏧᏂᏗᏱ ᏱᎩ, ᎠᎴ ᎤᏂᎬᏫᏳᏌᏕᎩ ᏱᎩ, ᎠᎴ ᎨᏥᎸᏉᏗ ᏱᎩ, ᎠᎴ ᏧᎾᎵᏂᎩᏛ ᏱᎩ; ᏂᎦᏗᏳ ᏄᏓᎴᏒ ᎾᏍᎩ ᏚᏬᏢᏁᎢ, ᎠᎴ ᎤᏩᏒ ᏚᏓᏙᏢᎾᏁᎴᎢ;
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Na-s-gi-ye-no ni-ga-v go-hu-s-di tsu-wo-tlv-nv-hi, na-s-gi ga-lv-la-di tse-ha, a-le e-lo-hi tse-ha, gv-go-wa-dv-di a-le gv-go-wa-dv-di ni-ge-sv-na tsi-gi, i-yu u-ni-gv-wi-yu-hi tsu-ni-di-yi yi-gi, a-le u-ni-gv-wi-yu-sa-de-gi yi-gi, a-le ge-tsi-lv-quo-di yi-gi, a-le tsu-na-li-ni-gi-dv yi-gi; ni-ga-di-yu nu-da-le-sv na-s-gi du-wo-tlv-ne-i, a-le u-wa-sv du-da-do-tlv-na-ne-le-i;
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| And he is before all things, and by him all things consist.
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| ᎠᎴ ᎾᏍᎩ ᎢᎬᏱ ᏁᎰᎢ ᎣᏂ ᏂᎦᎥ ᏧᏓᎴᏅᏛ, ᎠᎴ ᎾᏍᎩ ᏂᎬᏂᏏᎭ ᏂᎦᎥ ᎪᎱᏍᏗ ᏤᎭ;
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A-le na-s-gi i-gv-yi ne-ho-i o-ni ni-ga-v tsu-da-le-nv-dv, a-le na-s-gi ni-gv-ni-si-ha ni-ga-v go-hu-s-di tse-ha;
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| And he is the head of the body, the church: who is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead; that in all things he might have the preeminence.
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| ᎠᎴ ᎾᏍᎩ ᎤᏍᎪᎵ Ꭰ ᎠᏰᎸ ᎨᏒᎢ, ᎾᏍᎩ ᏧᎾᏁᎶᏗ ᎤᎾᏓᏡᎬᎢ; ᎾᏍᎩ ᏗᏓᎴᏅᏗᏍᎩ, ᏧᏓᎴᏅᏔᏅᎯ ᎤᏲᎱᏒ ᏧᎴᎯᏌᏅᎯ, ᎾᏍᎩ ᏂᎦᏗᏳ ᏄᎾᏓᎴᏒ ᎢᎬᏱ ᎢᏳᎵᏍᏙᏗᏱ.
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A-le na-s-gi u-s-go-li a a-ye-lv ge-sv-i, na-s-gi tsu-na-ne-lo-di u-na-da-tlu-gv-i; na-s-gi di-da-le-nv-di-s-gi, tsu-da-le-nv-ta-nv-hi u-yo-hu-sv tsu-le-hi-sa-nv-hi, na-s-gi ni-ga-di-yu nu-na-da-le-sv i-gv-yi i-yu-li-s-do-di-yi.
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| For it pleased the Father that in him should all fullness dwell;
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| ᎣᏏᏳᏰᏃ ᎠᏰᎸᏅᎯ ᎨᏎ ᎾᏍᎩ ᎤᏪᎯ ᎢᏳᎵᏍᏙᏗᏱ ᏂᎦᎥ ᎠᎧᎵᎢᎯ ᎨᏒᎢ;
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O-si-yu-ye-no a-ye-lv-nv-hi ge-se na-s-gi u-we-hi i-yu-li-s-do-di-yi ni-ga-v a-ka-li-i-hi ge-sv-i;
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| And, having made peace through the blood of his cross, by him to reconcile all things unto himself; by him, I say, whether they be things in earth, or things in heaven.
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| ᎠᎴ ᎾᏍᎩ ᎠᎬᏗᏍᎬ ᎤᏩᏒ ᏙᎯᏱ ᎢᏳᏅᏁᏗᏱ ᏂᎦᏗᏳ ᏧᏓᎴᏅᏛ, ᎤᎩᎬ ᏓᏓᎿᎭᏩᏍᏛ ᎤᏨᏅᎯ ᎤᏬᎯᏳᏍᏔᏅ; ᎾᏍᎩ ᎠᎬᏗᏍᎬᎢ, ᎢᏳᏃ ᎡᎶᎯ ᎠᏁᎯ ᏱᎩ, ᎠᎴ ᎦᎸᎳᏗ ᎠᏁᎯ ᏱᎩ.
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A-le na-s-gi a-gv-di-s-gv u-wa-sv do-hi-yi i-yu-nv-ne-di-yi ni-ga-di-yu tsu-da-le-nv-dv, u-gi-gv da-da-hna-wa-s-dv u-tsv-nv-hi u-wo-hi-yu-s-ta-nv; na-s-gi a-gv-di-s-gv-i, i-yu-no e-lo-hi a-ne-hi yi-gi, a-le ga-lv-la-di a-ne-hi yi-gi.
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| And you, that were sometime alienated and enemies in your mind by wicked works, yet now hath he reconciled
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| ᏂᎯᏃ ᎢᎸᎯᏳ ᏁᏣᏓᎴᏉ ᏥᎨᏎᎢ, ᎠᎴ ᎡᏥᏍᎦᎩ ᏥᎨᏎ ᏙᏗᏣᏓᏅᏛᎢ ᎾᏍᎩ ᎤᏲ ᏕᏥᎸᏫᏍᏓᏁᎲᎢ ᎠᏎᏃ ᎪᎯ ᎿᎭᏉ ᎢᏦᎯᏍᏓᏁᎸ,
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Ni-hi-no i-lv-hi-yu ne-tsa-da-le-quo tsi-ge-se-i, a-le e-tsi-s-ga-gi tsi-ge-se do-di-tsa-da-nv-dv-i na-s-gi u-yo de-tsi-lv-wi-s-da-ne-hv-i a-se-no go-hi hna-quo i-tso-hi-s-da-ne-lv,
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| In the body of his flesh through death, to present you holy and unblameable and unreproveable in his sight:
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| ᎤᏮᏔᏅ ᎠᏰᎸ ᎤᏇᏓᎵ ᎨᏒ ᎠᏲᎱᏍᎬᎢ, ᏧᎬᏩᎴ ᎬᏂᎨᏒ ᎢᏨᏁᏗᏱ ᏂᏥᏍᎦᏅᎾ ᎠᎴ ᎪᎱᏍᏗ ᏁᏧᎢᏍᏛᎾ ᎠᎴ ᎦᏰᏥᎳᏫᏎᏗ ᏂᎨᏒᎾ ᎾᏍᎩ ᎠᎦᏔᎲᎢ;
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U-wv-ta-nv a-ye-lv u-que-da-li ge-sv a-yo-hu-s-gv-i, tsu-gv-wa-le gv-ni-ge-sv i-tsv-ne-di-yi ni-tsi-s-ga-nv-na a-le go-hu-s-di ne-tsu-i-s-dv-na a-le ga-ye-tsi-la-wi-se-di ni-ge-sv-na na-s-gi a-ga-ta-hv-i;
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| If ye continue in the faith grounded and settled, and be not moved away from the hope of the gospel, which ye have heard, and which was preached to every creature which is under heaven; whereof I Paul am made a minister;
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| ᎢᏳᏃ ᏱᏅᏩᏍᏗᏗᏉ ᎢᏦᎯᏳᏒᎢ, ᎦᎫᏍᏛᏅᎯ ᎠᎴ ᎠᏍᏓᏱᏛᎯ ᎨᏒᎢ, ᎠᎴ ᎢᏴᏛ ᎢᎦᏰᏨᏁᏗ ᏂᎨᏒᎾ ᏱᎩ ᎤᏚᎩ ᎢᏨᏒ ᎣᏍᏛ ᎧᏃᎮᏛᏱ, ᎾᏍᎩ ᎢᏣᏛᎦᏅᎯ ᏥᎩ, ᎾᏂᎥ ᎨᎦᏁᎳᏅᎯ ᎨᏒ ᎨᎦᎵᏥᏙᏁᎸᎯ ᏥᎩ ᎦᎸᎶ ᎭᏫᏂᏗᏢ ᏄᎾᏛᏅᎢ; ᎾᏍᎩ ᎾᎿᎭᎠᏴ ᏉᎳ ᎪᎱᏍᏗ ᎦᏛᏁᎯ ᏥᏅᏋᏁᎸ;
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I-yu-no yi-nv-wa-s-di-di-quo i-tso-hi-yu-sv-i, ga-gu-s-dv-nv-hi a-le a-s-da-yi-dv-hi ge-sv-i, a-le i-yv-dv i-ga-ye-tsv-ne-di ni-ge-sv-na yi-gi u-du-gi i-tsv-sv o-s-dv ka-no-he-dv-yi, na-s-gi i-tsa-dv-ga-nv-hi tsi-gi, na-ni-v ge-ga-ne-la-nv-hi ge-sv ge-ga-li-tsi-do-ne-lv-hi tsi-gi ga-lv-lo ha-wi-ni-di-tlv nu-na-dv-nv-i; na-s-gi na-hna a-yv Quo-la go-hu-s-di Ga-dv-ne-hi tsi-nv-quv-ne-lv;
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| Who now rejoice in my sufferings for you, and fill up that which is behind of the afflictions of Christ in my flesh for his body's sake, which is the church:
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| ᎠᏴ ᎾᏍᎩ ᎪᎯ ᎨᏒ ᏥᎦᎵᎡᎵᎦ ᎢᏨᎩᎵᏲᏤᎲᎢ, ᎠᎴ ᏥᏥᎧᎵᏏᏏ ᎠᏏ ᎤᏃᏒᎢ ᎦᎶᏁᏛ ᎤᎩᎵᏲᏨ ᎾᏍᎩᏯ ᎠᎩᏇᏓᎸ ᏥᎩᎵᏲᎬᎢ, ᎾᏍᎩ ᎠᏰᎸ ᏥᏅᏗᎦᎵᏍᏙᏗᎭ, ᎾᏍᎩ ᏧᎾᏁᎶᏗ ᎤᎾᏓᏡᎬ ᏥᎩ;
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A-yv na-s-gi go-hi ge-sv tsi-ga-li-e-li-ga i-tsv-gi-li-yo-tse-hv-i, a-le tsi-tsi-ka-li-si-si a-si u-no-sv-i ga-lo-ne-dv u-gi-li-yo-tsv na-s-gi-ya a-gi-que-da-lv tsi-gi-li-yo-gv-i, na-s-gi a-ye-lv tsi-nv-di-ga-li-s-do-di-ha, na-s-gi tsu-na-ne-lo-di u-na-da-tlu-gv tsi-gi;
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| Whereof I am made a minister, according to the dispensation of God which is given to me for you, to fulfill the word of God;
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| ᎾᎿᎭᎠᏴ ᏗᎩᎸᏫᏍᏓᏁᎯ ᏅᏋᏁᎸ ᎾᏍᎩᏯ ᎤᏁᎳᏅᎯ ᎤᏓᏁᏤᏗ ᎨᏒᎢ, ᎾᏍᎩ ᎠᏴ ᏨᎩᏁᎸ ᏂᎯ ᎢᏣᎵᏍᏕᎸᏙᏗ, ᎾᏍᎩ ᎠᎧᎵᎢ ᎠᏆᎵᏥᏙᏗᏱ ᎧᏃᎮᏛ ᎤᏁᎳᏅᎯ ᎤᏤᎵᎦ;
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Na-hna a-yv di-gi-lv-wi-s-da-ne-hi nv-quv-ne-lv na-s-gi-ya U-ne-la-nv-hi u-da-ne-tse-di ge-sv-i, na-s-gi a-yv tsv-gi-ne-lv ni-hi i-tsa-li-s-de-lv-do-di, na-s-gi a-ka-li-i a-qua-li-tsi-do-di-yi ka-no-he-dv U-ne-la-nv-hi u-tse-li-ga;
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| Even the mystery which hath been hid from ages and from generations, but now is made manifest to his saints:
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| ᎾᏍᎩ ᎤᏕᎵᏛ ᎬᏍᎦᎳᏅᎯ ᏥᎨᏒᎩ ᎡᏘ ᏥᎨᏒ ᎠᎴ ᎤᎾᏓᏁᏟᏴᏒᏒ ᏅᏓᎬᏩᏓᎴᏅᏛ, ᎠᏎᏃ ᎪᎯ ᏥᎩ ᎬᏂᎨᏒ ᏥᏂᎨᎬᏁᎸ ᎤᎾᏓᏅᏘ ᏧᏤᎵᎦ;
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Na-s-gi u-de-li-dv gv-s-ga-la-nv-hi tsi-ge-sv-gi e-ti tsi-ge-sv a-le u-na-da-ne-tli-yv-sv-sv nv-da-gv-wa-da-le-nv-dv, a-se-no go-hi tsi-gi gv-ni-ge-sv tsi-ni-ge-gv-ne-lv u-na-da-nv-ti tsu-tse-li-ga;
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| To whom God would make known what is the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles; which is Christ in you, the hope of glory:
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| ᎾᏍᎩ [ᎤᏓᏅᏘ] ᎤᏁᎳᏅᎯ ᎤᏚᎵᏍᎨ ᎬᏂᎨᏒ ᎢᏧᏩᏁᏗᏱ ᏂᎦᎥ ᎦᎸᏉᏗᏳ ᎨᏒ ᎯᎠ ᎾᏍᎩ ᎤᏕᎵᏛ ᎨᏒ ᏧᎾᏓᎴᏅᏛ ᏴᏫ ᎠᏁᎲ [ᎬᏂᎨᏒ ᏥᏄᏩᏁᎸ;] ᎾᏍᎩ ᎦᎶᏁᏛ ᏥᎩ ᏂᎯ ᎢᏥᏯᎢ, ᎾᏍᎩ ᎤᏚᎩ ᎨᏨᏗ ᏥᏂᎬᏁ ᎦᎸᏉᏗᏳ ᏗᎨᏒ ᏫᏥᎾᏄᎪᎢᏍᏗᏱ.
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Na-s-gi [u-da-nv-ti] U-ne-la-nv-hi u-du-li-s-ge gv-ni-ge-sv i-tsu-wa-ne-di-yi ni-ga-v ga-lv-quo-di-yu ge-sv hi-a na-s-gi u-de-li-dv ge-sv tsu-na-da-le-nv-dv yv-wi a-ne-hv [gv-ni-ge-sv tsi-nu-wa-ne-lv;] na-s-gi Ga-lo-ne-dv tsi-gi ni-hi i-tsi-ya-i, na-s-gi u-du-gi ge-tsv-di tsi-ni-gv-ne ga-lv-quo-di-yu di-ge-sv wi-tsi-na-nu-go-i-s-di-yi.
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| Whom we preach, warning every man, and teaching every man in all wisdom; that we may present every man perfect in Christ Jesus:
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| ᎾᏍᎩ Ꮎ ᎬᏂᎨᏒ ᏥᏃᏨᏁᎭ, ᎾᏂᎥ ᏥᏙᏤᏯᏔᎲᏍᎦ, ᎠᎴ ᎾᏂᎥ ᏥᏙᏤᏲᎲᏍᎦ ᏦᏨᏗᎭ ᏂᎦᎥ ᎠᎵᏏᎾᎯᏍᏙᏗ ᎨᏒᎢ, ᎾᏍᎩ ᎾᏂᎥ ᎬᏂᎨᏒ ᎢᏦᏨᏁᏗᏱ ᏄᏂᎪᎸᎾ ᎦᎶᏁᏛ ᏥᏌ ᏚᎾᏁᎶᏛᎢ;
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Na-s-gi na gv-ni-ge-sv tsi-no-tsv-ne-ha, na-ni-v tsi-do-tse-ya-ta-hv-s-ga, a-le na-ni-v tsi-do-tse-yo-hv-s-ga tso-tsv-di-ha ni-ga-v a-li-si-na-hi-s-do-di ge-sv-i, na-s-gi na-ni-v gv-ni-ge-sv i-tso-tsv-ne-di-yi nu-ni-go-lv-na Ga-lo-ne-dv Tsi-sa du-na-ne-lo-dv-i;
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| Whereunto I also labour, striving according to his working, which worketh in me mightily.
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| ᎾᏍᎩ ᎾᏍᏉ ᎤᎬᏩᎵ ᏥᏓᎩᎸᏫᏍᏓᏁᎭ, ᏥᎦᏟᏂᎬᏁᎭ ᎾᏍᎩᏯ ᏧᎸᏫᏍᏓᏁᏗ ᎨᏒᎢ, ᎾᏍᎩ ᎤᎵᏂᎩᏗᏳ ᏥᏚᎸᏫᏍᏓᏁᎭ ᏗᏆᏓᏅᏛᎢ.
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Na-s-gi na-s-quo u-gv-wa-li tsi-da-gi-lv-wi-s-da-ne-ha, tsi-ga-tli-ni-gv-ne-ha na-s-gi-ya tsu-lv-wi-s-da-ne-di ge-sv-i, na-s-gi u-li-ni-gi-di-yu tsi-du-lv-wi-s-da-ne-ha di-qua-da-nv-dv-i.
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An Easier Way To Get The Day To Day Financial Calculator
Amounts
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## Installation & Setup
_Expensive_ can be installed globally, and it has 0 dependencies. Use the following commands:
``yarn`` `global add expensive`
``npm`` `i -g expensive`
You will need the Namecheap account, so create one now (affiliate link, thank you 😊)!
Then go to your _Profile_ > _Tools_ > _API Access_ and apply for an API key.
If you don't receive with soon, contact support to help you get
access activated. Once the API key is ready, `expensive` can be initialised
by running it, and answering configuration questions in interactive mode.
## Usage
These are the main commands:
* `expensive`: show the list of domains on the account, and navigate pages (20 domains per page)
* `expensive` ``domain[.com][ domainN]``: check if domains are available. If the TLD is not supplied, the domain will be checked in 10 top zones. Can list any number of domains separated by spaces.
* `expensive` ``domain.com -i``: display information about the owned domain, including DNS records if using Namecheap DNS.
* `expensive` ``domain.com -r``: register the domain name via CLI. If applicable, will try to look up the coupon to get discount.
* `expensive` ``domain.com -g``: point domain's DNS host records to GitHub DNS to switch on _GitHub Pages_.
For more information about the usage of `expensive`, please consult the
[GitHub](https://github.com/artdecocode/expensive)
project page, as well as its [Wiki](https://github.com/artdecocode/expensive/wiki).


001 /* 002 * Licensed to the Apache Software Foundation (ASF) under one 003 * or more contributor license agreements. See the NOTICE file 004 * distributed with this work for additional information 005 * regarding copyright ownership. The ASF licenses this file 006 * to you under the Apache License, Version 2.0 (the "License"); 007 * you may not use this file except in compliance with the License. 008 * You may obtain a copy of the License at 009 * 010 * http://www.apache.org/licenses/LICENSE-2.0 011 * 012 * Unless required by applicable law or agreed to in writing, software 013 * distributed under the License is distributed on an "AS IS" BASIS, 014 * WITHOUT WARRANTIES OR CONDITIONS OF ANY KIND, either express or implied. 015 * See the License for the specific language governing permissions and 016 * limitations under the License. 017 */ 018 /* 019 * $Id: DTMAxisIteratorBase.java<PHONE_NUMBER>-10-28 07:07:05Z minchau $ 020 */ 021 package org.apache.xml.dtm.ref; 022 023 import org.apache.xml.dtm.DTMAxisIterator; 024 025 /** 026 * This class serves as a default base for implementations of mutable 027 * DTMAxisIterators. 028 */ 029 public abstract class DTMAxisIteratorBase implements DTMAxisIterator 030 { 031 032 /** The position of the last node within the iteration, as defined by XPath. 033 * Note that this is _not_ the node's handle within the DTM. Also, don't 034 * confuse it with the current (most recently returned) position. 035 */ 036 protected int _last = -1; 037 038 /** The position of the current node within the iteration, as defined by XPath. 039 * Note that this is _not_ the node's handle within the DTM! 040 */ 041 protected int _position = 0; 042 043 /** The position of the marked node within the iteration; 044 * a saved itaration state that we may want to come back to. 045 * Note that only one mark is maintained; there is no stack. 046 */ 047 protected int _markedNode; 048 049 /** The handle to the start, or root, of the iteration. 050 * Set this to END to construct an empty iterator. 051 */ 052 protected int _startNode = DTMAxisIterator.END; 053 054 /** True if the start node should be considered part of the iteration. 055 * False will cause it to be skipped. 056 */ 057 protected boolean _includeSelf = false; 058 059 /** True if this iteration can be restarted. False otherwise (eg, if 060 * we are iterating over a stream that can not be re-scanned, or if 061 * the iterator was produced by cloning another iterator.) 062 */ 063 protected boolean _isRestartable = true; 064 065 /** 066 * Get start to END should 'close' the iterator, 067 * i.e. subsequent call to next() should return END. 068 * 069 * @return The root node of the iteration. 070 */ 071 public int getStartNode() 072 { 073 return _startNode; 074 } 075 076 /** 077 * @return A DTMAxisIterator which has been reset to the start node, 078 * which may or may not be the same as this iterator. 079 * */ 080 public DTMAxisIterator reset() 081 { 082 083 final boolean temp = _isRestartable; 084 085 _isRestartable = true; 086 087 setStartNode(_startNode); 088 089 _isRestartable = temp; 090 091 return this; 092 } 093 094 /** 095 * Set the flag to include the start node in the iteration. 096 * 097 * 098 * @return This default method returns just returns this DTMAxisIterator, 099 * after setting the flag. 100 * (Returning "this" permits C++-style chaining of 101 * method calls into a single expression.) 102 */ 103 public DTMAxisIterator includeSelf() 104 { 105 106 _includeSelf = true; 107 108 return this; 109 } 110 111 /** Returns the position of the last node within the iteration, as 112 * defined by XPath. In a forward iterator, I believe this equals the number of nodes which this 113 * iterator will yield. In a reverse iterator, I believe it should return 114 * 1 (since the "last" is the first produced.) 115 * 116 * This may be an expensive operation when called the first time, since 117 * it may have to iterate through a large part of the document to produce 118 * its answer. 119 * 120 * @return The number of nodes in this iterator (forward) or 1 (reverse). 121 */ 122 public int getLast() 123 { 124 125 if (_last == -1) // Not previously established 126 { 127 // Note that we're doing both setMark() -- which saves _currentChild 128 // -- and explicitly saving our position counter (number of nodes 129 // yielded so far). 130 // 131 // %REVIEW% Should position also be saved by setMark()? 132 // (It wasn't in the XSLTC version, but I don't understand why not.) 133 134 final int temp = _position; // Save state 135 setMark(); 136 137 reset(); // Count the nodes found by this iterator 138 do 139 { 140 _last++; 141 } 142 while (next() != END); 143 144 gotoMark(); // Restore saved state 145 _position = temp; 146 } 147 148 return _last; 149 } 150 151 /** 152 * @return The position of the current node within the set, as defined by 153 * XPath. Note that this is one-based, not zero-based. 154 */ 155 public int getPosition() 156 { 157 return _position == 0 ? 1 : _position; 158 } 159 160 /** 161 * @return true if this iterator has a reversed axis, else false 162 */ 163 public boolean isReverse() 164 { 165 return false; 166 } 167 168 /** 169 * Returns a deep copy of this iterator. Cloned iterators may not be 170 * restartable. The iterator being cloned may or may not become 171 * non-restartable as a side effect of this operation. 172 * 173 * @return a deep copy of this iterator. 174 */ 175 public DTMAxisIterator cloneIterator() 176 { 177 178 try 179 { 180 final DTMAxisIteratorBase clone = (DTMAxisIteratorBase) super.clone(); 181 182 clone._isRestartable = false; 183 184 // return clone.reset(); 185 return clone; 186 } 187 catch (CloneNotSupportedException e) 188 { 189 throw new org.apache.xml.utils.WrappedRuntimeException(e); 190 } 191 } 192 193 /** 194 * Do any final cleanup that is required before returning the node that was 195 * passed in, and then return it. The intended use is 196 *
 197 * return returnNode(node); 198 * 199 * %REVIEW% If we're calling it purely for side effects, should we really 200 * be bothering with a return value? Something like 201 *
 202 *  accept(node); return node;  203 *
 204 * would probably optimize just about as well and avoid questions 205 * about whether what's returned could ever be different from what's 206 * passed in. 207 * 208 * @param node Node handle which iteration is about to yield. 209 * 210 * @return The node handle passed in. */ 211 protected final int returnNode(final int node) 212 { 213 _position++; 214 215 return node; 216 } 217 218 /** 219 * Reset the position to zero. NOTE that this does not change the iteration 220 * state, only the position number associated with that state. 221 * 222 * %REVIEW% Document when this would be used? 223 * 224 * @return This instance. 225 */ 226 protected final DTMAxisIterator resetPosition() 227 { 228 229 _position = 0; 230 231 return this; 232 } 233 234 /** 235 * Returns true if all the nodes in the iteration well be returned in document 236 * order. 237 * 238 * @return true as a default. 239 */ 240 public boolean isDocOrdered() 241 { 242 return true; 243 } 244 245 /** 246 * Returns the axis being iterated, if it is known. 247 * 248 * @return Axis.CHILD, etc., or -1 if the axis is not known or is of multiple 249 * types. 250 */ 251 public int getAxis() 252 { 253 return -1; 254 } 255 256 public void setRestartable(boolean isRestartable) { 257 _isRestartable = isRestartable; 258 } 259 260 /** 261 * Return the node at the given position. 262 * 263 * @param position The position 264 * @return The node at the given position. 265 */ 266 public int getNodeByPosition(int position) 267 { 268 if (position > 0) { 269 final int pos = isReverse() ? getLast() - position + 1 270 : position; 271 int node; 272 while ((node = next()) != DTMAxisIterator.END) { 273 if (pos == getPosition()) { 274 return node; 275 } 276 } 277 } 278 return END; 279 } 280 281 }


HAL-SET-PROPERTY
Section: User Commands (1)Index Return to Main Contents
NAME
hal-set-property - set a property on a device objectSYNOPSIS
hal-set-property [options]
DESCRIPTION
hal-set-property sets a property on a device object in the HAL device database. For more information about both the big picture and specific HAL properties, refer to the HAL spec which can be found in /usr/share/doc/hal-0.5.14/spec/hal-spec.html depending on the distribution.
OPTIONS
The following options are supported:- --udi
- The UDI (Unique Device Identifier) of the device object.
- --key
- The name of the property.
- --int
- Set value property of the property to a 32-bit signed integer. The value passed is assumed to be decimal unless it's prefixed with 0x or x for hexadecimal values.
- --uint64
- Set value property of the property to a 64-bit unsigned integer. The value passed is assumed to be decimal unless it's prefixed with 0x or x for hexadecimal values.
- --string
- Set value property of the property to a string.
- --double
- Set value property of the property to a floating point number.
- --bool
- Set value property of the property to boolean, e.g. true or false.
- --strlist-pre
- Prepend an item to a string list.
- --strlist-post
- Append an item to a string list.
- --strlist-rem
- Remove an item from a string list.
- --remove
- Remove a property.
- --help
- Print out usage.
- --version
-
Print the version.
RETURN VALUE
If setting the property succeeds, this program will exit with exit code 0. On errors a non-zero the program will exit with a non-zero exit code. Note that setting properties on the HAL device database usually requires super user privileges.
BUGS
Please send bug reports to either the distribution or the HAL mailing list, see http://lists.freedesktop.org/mailman/listinfo/hal on how to subscribe.
SEE ALSO
hald(8), lshal(1), hal-get-property(1), hal-find-by-property(1), hal-find-by-capability(1)
AUTHOR
Written by David Zeuthen<EMAIL_ADDRESS>with a lot of help from many others.
Index
This document was created by man2html, using the manual pages.
Time: 05:29:04 GMT, December 24, 2015


Directive:
Name: Bridge
Status: Core
General: Some text explaining what the directive as a whole is doing


Fury Road saunters to Monksfield glory
by Press AssociationFury Road secured an effortless success in the "Monksfield" Novice Hurdle at Navan.
The Grade Three event lost much of its sheen when the winner's fellow Gordon Elliott inmate, Abacadabras, was withdrawn on Sunday morning - leaving Fury Road to be sent off the 1-25 favourite.
Fury Road was an 18-length winner on his initial start over hurdles at Down Royal at the start of the month, and jockey Davy Russell was full of confidence from the off.
He was well in control with four flights to jump - and Fury Road cantered home 10 lengths clear, firmly on the bridle.
Elliott may consider a step up in trip for the Gigginstown House Stud-owned winner, although the Grade One Lawlor's of Naas Novice Hurdle over two and a half miles on January 5 is another option.
He said: "It was straightforward, as it should have been, but he's a nice horse and is better than that form. He could step right out to three miles if we wanted, and he jumps very well. He could go for the three-mile race at Limerick or the Lawlor's race at Naas. He's a big, staying horse."