Was Tion Robin or the Sheriff of Nottingham? Did he play for the Service or the Chamber? Edward was about to find out. If he did not submit to the archpriest's orders, then the old man could summon all those efficient-looking gold-plated guardsmen. Suss was too small a town to hide in. There were only four passes out of the vale. The population was fiercely loyal to its patron god and would not harbor a fugitive. All in all, the chances of escaping from Tion now were nonexistent, even without allowing for the workings of magic. The astonishing thing, really, was that Edward had evaded detection for so long.
He reached the shack. He should have brought a lantern. A three-quarter Trumb lit the sky, but the trees were casting heavy shadows.
As he threw open the door to the black interior, someone spoke behind him: “By George, you really let the bally cat out of the bag, didn't you?"
The voice was unfamiliar, but the words were in English.
He spun around, stubbed his toe on a rock, and almost fell into a bush.
"Who?..."
There were two of them. One was a youth of his own age, or perhaps slightly younger. He was slim, golden-haired, and wearing even less than he was—wearing, in fact, nothing but an inexplicably self-assured smile.
It was the woman who had spoken, though. She was tall by Sussian standards, and her smock revealed thin arms and bony shoulders. He could make out almost nothing of her face.
"Monica Mason,” she said. “Delighted to make your acquaintance, Mr. Scholar. May I have your autograph? I suspect it will shortly acquire rarity value."
He resisted a mad impulse to fall on his knees and kiss her feet. He found his voice somewhere. “Delighted to meet you, also, ma'am. You are with the Service, I presume?"
"Of course. I am usually known as Onica, by the way. What the hell were you doing, making an exhibition of yourself like that?"
"It was indiscreet."
"Indiscreet? Indiscreet, the man says!” She moved closer, and the moonlight gleamed on a hard, mannish face, framed by longish dark hair, hanging loose. She was wearing the standard local smock as if it were a coronation gown. “There are reapers in town, you dunderhead! Even if there weren't any in the audience, they're going to hear about you soon enough. And if they don't, then Tion will!"
"Tion already has! I mean his high priest or someone did. He knows who I am. He wants me to go back to the temple with him."
She snorted. “I came here to rescue you, not bury you. That is, if you want rescuing?"
"Want? Of course I do! Creighton was killed by—"
"I heard! The dragon trader told us. Well, if you want to come with me, then you'd better get some clothes on. Running around in that getup isn't going to help. You look like a bloody cherub sprouted in a dark cupboard."
Clothes ... He pulled his wits together, stifling a swarm of questions buzzing around in his head. He turned to the blackness of the shed. “I need a lantern."
"Never mind! Even a pinafore would be better than that. Grab whatever you can. Move!"
She shoved him. He stepped into the dark and promptly stubbed his toe on a stool. The youth came in after him and raised a hand. Instantly a faint glow illuminated the plank walls, the rough benches strewn with clothes, the footwear lying around the floor.
He dived for his smock and sandals. “Gosh! Is this mana?"
The boy just smiled.
Edward repeated the question in Joalian, but still received no answer. Pulling his smock over his head, he went out. “Where are we going?” Home, Home!
Mason was a rangy black shape against the moonlight. “Anywhere we can, I suppose. Zath has his dogs loose, and as soon as that priest gets word back to the temple ... He can probably notify Tion directly from here, actually. He's not on a node, but it's not far. He's bound to have some ritual or other."
Edward fumbled into his sandals. There was nothing else he needed. Naked he had come into this world; he had acquired no possessions yet. The woman turned and he began to follow ... Then he remembered Eleal. His mouth went dry and his heart froze in his chest.
"Wait! What happens if I go to the temple?"
She stopped and looked around. “Can't say. Tion may turn you over to Zath. You're not serious?"
"The girl, Eleal. She saved my life! She stayed and nursed me when I was ill, although she knew the reapers were hunting me."
"You don't ... What of it?"
"She's a cripple. The priest says that Tion will cure her limp."
Mason snorted again, a very unladylike noise. “And you have a huge honorable schoolboy lump of guilt, I suppose? Well, it's your neck. I'm leaving, and leaving pronto, because I value my skin. One reaper I might just be able to handle, if I saw him in time. Several reapers I can't, and God knows I wouldn't have a hope against Tion.” She did not move, though.
Oh, hell! He clenched his fists in agony. “Would Tion cure her? I know he can. Would he?"
"Impossible to say. He's mad as a hatter. They all are. A few hundred years of omnipotence boils up their brains."
"He's one of the Chamber?"
She shrugged. “Probably not, and he can't be very happy having Zath's killers all over his manor.” She frowned. “Tion fancies himself as a collector of beauty—pretty girls, pretty boys. He has unorthodox tastes in what he does with them. You would most likely find yourself in the temple guard, I'd think. He favors that role for tall young men."
"My preferences wouldn't matter, of course?"
"Not in the slightest. He's quite capable of turning you into a woman, if that takes his fancy, but he can do whatever he likes with you. You'll probably enjoy it, although I can't guarantee that, even. He's better than some, but I shouldn't want him as a friend."
Judging by her companion, who wandered around so shamefully in the altogether, she had liberal tastes in friendship.
"But Eleal saved my life!"
Mason tapped her foot on the path. “Make up your mind. Tion may very well appoint you a god, you know. That's what's prophesied. Whether that comes after the hanky-panky or instead of, I don't know."
"Make me a god?"
"There is no god of courage—hasn't been for a couple of hundred years. Gunuu was one of Tion's but he switched allegiance. You must know about the Testament by now, surely?"
"I haven't read it. What does it say?"
He could hear voices. Someone was coming, probably looking for him. The woman had heard them also. She glanced around as she spoke. “D'ward shall become Tion. He shall give heart to the king and win the hearts of the people. D'ward shall become Courage. That's it. Come on, laddie! Time to go."
Eleal! Blasted, meddling Eleal! Giving him the part of Gunuu had been all her idea. She had arranged the whole debacle. She must have found that passage in the copy of the Testament they had left back in Ruatvil. That was how the old priest had guessed. But...
"I fulfilled that prophecy tonight, in the play!” Bless you, Eleal!
Mason uttered a harsh bark of laughter. “Damn my eyes! I suppose you did. Actually, that's quite a relief, old man. We were worried about that one. Good show.” She took a couple of steps and then looked back. “Are you coming or not?"