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Roger Lockless thought himent was distorted by desperation and loneliness But stub-bornly he keptthe corridor outside Father Abbot Markwart&039;s quarters, broo very hard - too hard? - to look as if he was on so duty

He paused outside the Father Abbot&039;s door, looking both ways along the quiet corridor, even sweeping a bit

"An hour," he whispered to hi for vespers, and none would likely coer had studied the routine carefully, night after night, for he knew that one ht of Elbryan and Pony and the heroic centaur he had never lance each way, he went right to the door, falling to one knee

True to his surnaer had the simple lock opened in a matter of seconds Surprised by how easy it had been to break into the quarters of the highest-ranking Abellican ht be soave a thorough inspection of the seaain, looked both ways, and took a deep breath, reical trap would likely offer no physical signs

Except for the ashes - his ashes - left behind after it was sprung

With a growl, the stubborn younghappened, and then he was inside, falling to one knee again to relock the door Leaning against it, catching his breath and his resolve, Roger scanned the suite Markwart&039;s quarters consisted of four rooest, was the hub, with a door - closed - to the left, another across the rooreat desk partly open to reveal a corner of the Father Abbot&039;s bed A third door, to the right, was open wide, revealing a group of four co hearth

Roger went through that open door first, into the study, but returned to the office in a short while, having found nothing of any i friends He moved into the bedrooht table Roger wasn&039;t h a kindly woht hier could understand quite a bit of the script - an a feat for one who had lived the life of a common peasant in Honce-the-Bear The monks could read and write, as could the htbird, Pony, and other exceptional individuals But less than two in thirty of those who called the Danube Brock Ursal could understand sier Lockless was an a reader Still, he found many words that he did not know, and soical connection between the sentences A quick perusal of the journal showed his hts about the importance of the Church above the importance of the coer winced at the words, recalling all too clearly the h, the ainst the Church

Roger continued to scan the book, and though he had little luck with its finer points, he did come to believe that it had been penned by two dif-ferent , but a large part of it er believed It wasn&039;t soof the text but rather a difference in tone

Either two , or Father Abbot Markas a er wondered if he ainst Markwart Perhaps he could go to the King and present this book, along with his claims that a monk, and no powrie, had ent of the Church, and not a wild anih

He would be treated like a blithering idiot, Roger realized, even with the journal as evidence He read again all the entries he could find about the King and recognized that the author, Father Abbot Markwart, had been quite careful not to cross over the line into treason, spoutingof no actions against the Crown This was gossip, not evidence

One other thing caught Roger&039;s attention: Markwart&039;s repeated refer-ences to a new insight, a voice inside his head, guiding his hand The Father Abbot clearly thought hient of the Supre the split personality within the writing in a new light and understanding that no ent of God

He put the book back on the table and left the roo to leave the office for the last and er went to the closed door next His suspicions heightened when he found it secured with not one, but three separate locks Even reater protection, a needle- and-spring trap, on two of the locks

Roger spent a long tiers and delicate picks, disabling them but in a manner that would allow hiroaned as min-utes slipped by and he realized howat this door, but still he took the ti at the locks, popping all three open, considering again the possibility of a deadlyopen the heavy door

The roo open, and a curious design cut into the floor, but Roger&039;s heart started beating quickly, his blood racing, his breath coht into his spine, assailed him, a darkness of spirit, a sense of profound hopelessness He stayed only long enough to glance at the title of the great tome,The Incantations Sorcerous, and then he left the rooainst the closed door for several long h to reset the locks and traps

All that rereat desk, with , and, likely, many more concealed

"He should be here, brother," Master Machuso, a round little man with red cheeks that seeetically when he led Brother Francis into the larders only to find that the young man in question was nowhere to be seen The master had been on his way to ves-pers when Francis had intercepted hisbury has been assigned to the larders all the week"

"Your pardon, Master Machuso," Francis said with a polite bow and smile, "but it seereed with an ehter "Oh, I do try to keep them in line, you see," he explained, "butOnly long enough to earn a bit for the drink or pipe weed, I&039;enerous nature and know that no harm will come to them if they run off I will even hire theain for work" The cheery ive hued a strained ssbury is of St-Mere-Abelle village, then? Are you familiar with his family?"

"No to the second question," replied Machuso "And likely no to the first I knowfaer, of course A fine lad Good worker and quick with his hands - and with his wits, so they say"

"Did he claiave a noncoht have," he replied "In honesty, I pay little attention to such details Many have been displaced by the war Entire villages that once were, sier claimed that he was of St-Mere-Abelle, ould I question him?"

"You would not, of course," Brother Francis answered, bowing once more "And I do not question your procedure, Master Machuso If all of us at St-Mere-Abelle could attend our duties as well as Master Golvae Machuso, then surely the Father Abbot&039;s life would befro Billingsbury one?" Francis asked

Machuso&039;s face scrunched up in thought, but he was soon shaking his head and holding his hands up helplessly " If he has not left the abbey, then I aood worker, that young man"

Francis worked hard to hide his frustration He hoped that Roger had not left St-Mere-Abelle, for if his suspicions about the young hireling were correct, then Roger could help rid hi issues He said a quick farewell to Machuso and rushed away, back to his private quar-ters, back to the soul stone the Father Abbot had allowed him to procure fro, and fast

The hints were sparse: a crumpled piece of paper, apparently a first draft of the edict that had condemned Master Jojonah, which spoke of some mysterious "intrusion and escape" at St-Mere-Abelle, and another paper concerning a continuing conspiracy at the abbey To add to Roger&039;s frustra-tion, he had not found a single secret coh he was certain that there had to be many Still, he had counted care-fully theout of tilanced about the room one last time to make sure that all was as he had found it, then quietly went back out into the hall

"You should reset the lock," caer turned to do just that

The young man froze in place as if turned to stone Only his eyesfor soh hiht a htened suddenly to face the er Billingsbury," Brother Francis said cal the dark robes that this was a higher-ranking monk, an immaculate brother, perhaps "I was told to come up here and clean - "

"You were told to work in the larders," Brother Francis interrupted, having no time or patience for such foolishness With his soul stone, Francis&039; spirit had soared about the corridors of the abbey, and chance alone had brought him to the office of his superior, only to find, to his absolute areat desk

"Ah, y-yes," Roger stuttered, "but Brother Jhi the htly as he considered his options He ht, for though the

"And where are you froer replied without hesitation

"You are not froe, not the abbey," Roger stuttered

"No!"

Roger stood straight and gripped the broohter He had killed a monk before, a brother justice It was an experience he&039;d hoped he would never have to repeat

"There are no Billingsburys in St-Mere-Abelle village," Brother Francis insisted

"New to the region," Roger replied "Our homes were burned - "

"And where were those hoe - "

"Where?" Francis demanded, and added in rapid succession, his voice wickedly sharp and inti "What was its name? How many people lived there? What other faer started, but his e somewhere north of Paluess - and that is not likely, I assure you I recog-nize your accent"

Roger straightened and stared hard at the man, but Francis&039; next words nearly knocked him over

"You are a friend of those who knew Avelyn Desbris," the monk announced "Perhaps a friend of the heretic yourself"

Roger&039;s jaw hung slack

"But no matter," Brother Francis went on "You are a friend of the wohtbird"

Roger&039;s knuckles whitened, so tight was his grip on the broom Des-perate, he started tothe brooer back with the other "Fool," themaneuver "I am not your enemy If I were, you would be in chains already, on your knees before the Father Abbot"

"Then what?" Roger dared to ask, rubbing his sore cheek, surprised that this e, could have so easily disar, and quickly," Francis instructed, turning and starting away "Vespers is at its end and you would not be wise to let the Father Abbot find you loitering here

"What are we to do?" Brother Viscenti asked for perhaps the twentieth time, and, like all the other times before this, Brother Braumin offered no direct response

"When will Delllanced at the door of Brauh it at any second Then he twitched and turned his head quickly, eyes darting "He will be here - he said he would," Viscenti insisted, his voice rising with his anxiety

Braumin patted a hand in the air to try to calravity of their situation Brother Francis, perhaps the closest counsel of Father Abbot Markwart, had walked right in on their iveness!" Viscenti said suddenly, frantically

Brauered that Viscenti would consider such a notion Even if he was tied to the stake, the fires burning beneath his feet, Brother Brauiveness And how, if he truly believed in the holiness of Avelyn and Jojonah, could Viscenti say such a thing?

But Brau with the ood reason

"Better that we adainst the Abellican Church," Braue "Wemore Better that we craft our story - "

He stopped as a quiet knock sounded; both men froze

"Brother Dellis," the skinny man replied, his voice nasal even in a whisper

Brau his ear up close, trying to get soht be

Another knock sounded

Brau his bottorasped the handle and took a deep breath, his ies of Father Abbot Markwart and a host of angry, armed executioners come to cart him away Finally he h it was not Markwart and a mob, Brother Braumin&039;s heart sank

"Let me in," Brother Francis said quietly

"I am busy," Brauht be doing, I assure you that this takes precedence," he declared, putting a hand on the door and pushing

Brauainst the wood and held the door steady "I assure you that we have nothing to discuss, good brother," he said He started to close the door, but Francis stuck his foot in the opening

"Good brother, I a your next , yes," Braumin replied

"Blasphemy, you u his voice, "then so be it You are the one in need of secrecy, not I"

Brau wide the door and stepped aside, and Brother Francis promptly entered the room Braumin poked his head out into the corridor behind the man, then closed the door He turned his attention back to the roo hard at each other A wild look was in Viscenti&039;s eye, the look of a tiht the skinny ht pounce upon Francis Viscenti couldn&039;t hold the stare, though, and he turned away, hands twitch-ing at his side

"You see in on my every conversation," Brother Brau Francis&039; attention froht believe that you atching me"

"So," Brother Francis replied

"And you are that wiser man? "

"I am wiser than to speak heresy in the cellars of St-Mere-Abelle"

"Only truth," Braumin said, and his lip turned up in a snarl and he advanced a step

"Only lies," Francis retorted, not backing away an inch

Brother Viscenti scraht beside Francis, very close, so that he and Brau a threatening posture

Still, Francis seey," he explained

"Then why did you come here?" Braumin demanded

"To warn you," Francis said bluntly "I know of your group, dedicated to the memory of the heretic Jojonah and to Avelyn Desbris"