Part 36 (1/2)
”Of course I will.”
”Then except for two small personal items, I've done all that is appropriate at this point. Let Mike and Sis guide you, accept the support of the others who are or want to be Sealed, and work for the Protector's objectives.” He smiled at her. ”The first personal item is to reclaim the symbol Shayan stole and marked you with. You belong to me, not him--as do the other Sealed. Please remove your gloves.”
Cortin obeyed, finding as she did that the circled triangles no longer disturbed her. And they didn't look like burns any more; instead they seemed to glow with blue light, somehow comforting. ”Will . . . the others have these?”
”If you and they want, yes. It isn't a requirement; being openly Sealed will mark them for Shayan's personal torture if his people capture them, and he needs no supernatural powers to make that weeks of agony. His millennia of practice are enough.”
”My team would never forgive me if I left them out of anything, even if it was risky. They'll want these marks, but I don't know about the others--I can't choose for them.”
”True. If they want them when they see yours, they'll get them. The other item is a trade, if you wish. Your back pain for the Stigmata, which will show you act with my approval. To compensate for the inconvenience of bleeding periodically, they won't cause you any pain.”
”I could hardly refuse anything you offer--I'll make the trade.” She hesitated. ”Uh, what about the cartridges? Was Sis right about them?”
”She was indeed, so long as the wearer doesn't commit a mortal sin deliberately. You'll forget about the symbols and trade both until the latter takes effect.” He kissed her again, in a brotherly way this time, and vanished as he had appeared.
Cortin woke with a feeling of imminent disaster. It had seemed like a nightmare, especially Shayan on the Papal Throne . . . Still, Jeshua had said there was a purpose to it, and he'd outlined what sounded like the only reasonable thing for her to do. She got up, but instead of dressing--the message she'd been asked to pa.s.s along sounded like one that shouldn't wait--she put on a robe and went to Odeon's room.
He'd apparently had a quieter night than she; when he called for her to come in he was still in bed, stretched out in a way that reminded her of a large and perfectly contented cat. ”Join me?” he invited.
”Uh-huh.” Cortin slipped the robe off and slid under the covers, comforted by his warm strength. ”I'm not sure how much help it was, but I did have a visitor last night. He asked me to tell you it was time to inst.i.tute the Communion of Promise, and I got the impression he meant today.”
”Good--I've been waiting for word I could. What about what you wanted to know?”
”I found out, sort of. He said I'm the Herald, 'in part'--I was too chicken to ask what he meant by that--and that I shouldn't deny what I'm being called, even if it's the Protector.” Cortin s.h.i.+vered, huddling against his chest. ”I found out a couple of other things, too. You know the Protector could be a woman? And that Pope Lucius is Shayan, and you and Sis're the Protector's version of a Pope?”
”The last I'd guessed, the rest I knew, yes.”
”And that we're on our own now?”
”I thought that was getting close.” Odeon kissed her, holding her snugly and stroking her back. ”We need two more people, Ivan says, then we'll be in position to hold the fort till the Protector's ready to surface. I expect Betty'll be one of them, but I don't think we've met the other yet.”
To her surprise, Cortin found herself becoming aroused. That didn't seem possible, much less appropriate, after her vision--but it was happening. ”Mike--”
”What better way to put what you've just been through into perspective?
It took a shelter party to straighten Sis and me out, but I don't think you need anything that extreme.” He raised himself as if to get out of bed. ”Of course, if you think otherwise . . .”
”I don't, even if a shelter party does sound nice.” Cortin shook her head, bewildered. ”Shouldn't we be getting ready for Ma.s.s, though?”
”Is it your conscience or habit asking that?” Odeon stroked her hair, then caressed a breast. ”Trust your feelings, Joanie. You can't sin, remember?”
”I remember.” And Jeshua had been specific about telling her to follow Mike and Sis' guidance . . . She closed her eyes, trying to a.n.a.lyze what she actually felt. That was complicated by Mike's continuing caresses, but it did seem her feelings said this was the right thing to be doing now. Ma.s.s was important, yes, but she shouldn't go to it in the mood she'd had when she wakened, of impending doom; this was the Protector's way of comfort and rea.s.surance.
Cortin kissed Odeon one last time before getting up. ”Thanks, Mike--I'm feeling human again, and I'm in fit condition to say Ma.s.s.”
”I could tell.” Odeon smiled at her. ”Glad I could help.”
”So'm I. Mind if I use your tub before I go get dressed?”
”Only if you're willing to have company,” Odeon replied with a grin.