"Or you could ask them to take you straight to the library."
"Hmm! One of the greatest in Europe!"
"See you next year, then."
"You going to stay here that long?"
Toby had been joking. He had no idea what the future held in store for him, not a year, nor even a day, and he hardly cared. "Perhaps. This would be a good place for me to learn how to keep the hob suppressed. You'll be back in Scotland long before that." He yawned.
"No!"
"No? Lost your homesickness?" That was surprisingly welcome news.
"After this? I'd be eating the heather in a week! What are we going to do now, Longdirk?"
"Eat, I hope. Sleep. Think again in a week or two."
Hamish's eager grin faded. "But this crusade the don—"
"Demons! You go crusading with him if you want. It's been a stressful day, but I haven't lost quite all of my wits."
"Senor?" said a childish voice near Toby's elbow.
It came from a cropped-headed novice who clutched a lantern in both hands as if he found it heavy. He could be no more than twelve and was either remarkably brave or unaware that he was addressing a convicted incarnate. "Will you be kind enough to follow me, senor?"
"I shall be honored. Lead the way."
Leaving Hamish staring after him with a perplexed frown, Toby followed his guide along a maze of corridors, up several flights of stairs, and finally to a low oaken door. By then he had discovered that the boy's name was Alfonso, he was a choirboy and would be chief soloist as soon as Felice's voice broke. With little less confidence, Alfonso also explained that he intended to be the abbot when he grew up.
Toby expected a monastic cell and would be surprised if he could stand upright in it. A cot long enough for him to sleep on would be astonishing. What he found when he ducked under the lintel was a chamber fit for a king, larger than Granny Nan's cottage and four times the height. Being careful not to laugh, he peered around so he would be able to remember it all and share the joke with Hamish: a fire crackling in a huge stone fireplace, candles gleaming in silver holders on the table, velvet drapes hanging beside real glazed casements, the walls hidden by tapestries—thick rugs on the floor, a basin and ewer and neatly folded towel, two padded chairs, and a four-poster big enough to take him and several friends. He had never merited such a room in his life and never would.
"I fear you have made an error, friend Alfonso. I am not the viceroy."
The boy's face crumpled in worry. "No, senor! Brother Tomas pointed you out to me himself. 'The big one,' he said!"
"But this room?"
"Yes, senor! The royal chamber, he said. For the big man—begging your pardon, senor."
"Oh, I know I'm the big one, so don't worry about that."
"We are very cramped for space just now," the boy suggested nervously. "With so many refugees. Er, I mean no offense, senor! I am certain this is the correct place."
What game was the tutelary playing now? Such effusive hospitality must come with a monstrous bill, to be presented on the morrow. He padded over the rugs and laid the casket on the table. This would be only the fourth time in his life he had ever slept in a real bed, and last night he had been chained like a dog. Hamish was right—life in Tyndrum would seem very dull.
"Well, if you're quite sure..."
"Quite sure, senor. I shall come back later to guide you to the refectory."
Could he stay awake that long? "That is very kind of you. It is a magnificent room, but I still think there has been some mistake." He heard the door close.
"Indeed there has," said another voice, a familiar voice, clear like a silver bell.
He spun around. Alfonso had shut the door with himself on the inside and was standing there with a faint smile fixed on his face and a golden shimmer around him. Bracing himself for more treachery, Toby went down on his knees, which put their eyes at about the same level, although the boy seemed to be staring through him rather than at him.
"The mistake was ours. It has been many centuries since we had to apologize to a mortal, Tobias."
"I am grateful to you for sending the don to rescue me, Holiness." What did it want of him now?
"It should not have been necessary. We misjudged you. We have not met anyone quite like you before, you see."
"What does that mean?"
The spirit chuckled, although the boy's expression did not change. "It means that even we should not claim to be infallible. Our knowledge is confined to our experience, which is vast but not infinite, and there are exceptions to every rule. And that rule we overlooked! We have some questions to ask you."
Questions? Montserrat was as close to omniscient as it was possible to be. Toby suppressed an aching yawn. Why couldn't this wait until morning? "There are others who need you more than I do tonight—the baron, for instance."
"We are attending to him now in the basilica. Your case is urgent, too. So listen. We first heard of you when reports came of the slaughter at Tortosa, obviously the work of a demon. It did not seem to concern us, for it happened far outside our domain, but a few days ago the Inquisition appealed to us for help, something it has never done before. We do not approve of the Black Friars' methods and frequently not of their choice of victims, but they perform a service in hunting down demons as they flit from one spirit's haunt to another. This one, we were told, had escaped to the north, to Lerida, and now appeared to be heading in our direction. Furthermore, although their reports were scanty, the friars believed that it had taken hostages. So we were concerned.
"Soon it became clear that the viceroy was also concerned. Instead of the handful of yokels the Inquisition is usually granted to aid it in making arrests, he assigned a troop of professionals under the competent Captain Diaz. He also had the insolence to demand our assistance. As it is Oreste's fault that there are so few tutelaries left in Aragon at the moment, we were even less inclined to cooperate with his men than we were with the Inquisition, but it was made plain to us that the consequences would be drastic if we refused."
All of this sounded very much as Toby had worked it out for himself. What was so urgent? Why must it be tonight?
"When you drew closer, though, we saw that you were far from a typical case of possession. Your companions seemed to be under no compulsion. They evidently accepted you as human, and that was worrying indeed, because only supremely crafty demons are capable of that deception. The most egregious such imposter is Nevil the Fiend, of course."
Toby had not foreseen that view of him. "But could I have misled Montserrat?"
It did not answer that question. "The other possibility was that you had somehow managed to gain control of your demon after the massacre, but that theory was so improbable that we did not consider it. The cooks are basting the roast geese, and you will not want to miss dinner. Go and get ready."
Disconcerted, but aware that some of his weariness came from hunger, Toby rose and went over to the stand with the basin. He would have to turn his back on the tutelary! Undress in front of it?
"This feels wrong, Holiness, disrespectful!"
The boy was still staring woodenly at the fireplace, but the spirit laughed joyfully.
"Since when have you worried about being respectful, Tobias? No, you have earned a little ease, and rules do not apply to you. We shall talk while you wash, for this is a long tale. Your arrival happened to coincide with a raid by a band of brigands. We decided to kill two birds with one arrow and regret to say that this may have been a lapse into vanity. We nudged matters a little, so that you encountered the brigands on the road just below here. We prepared to defend the hostages from harm and waited to see what would happen, fully expecting that you would deal with the villains as you had dealt with the landsknechte and thus relieve us of the need to do it ourselves."