Creegan smiled and it was not a friendly or warm expression, but rather that of a man finding humor in a very dark place. “The end of life is not necessarily a cause for sorrow, daughter,” he said, using the form of address usually reserved for minor members of the Order—it clearly communicated the difference in their ranks. She was uncertain why, but knew he did nothing without a reason. “The Grand Master served the Goddess well, for many years, and earned his final rest.

“But the timing of it is…inconvenient.” He stood and said, “I must leave at once for Rillanon, for the convocation is only a week after the funeral, and the selection of the new Grand Master is now more critical than is usual.”

She knew he was referring to the matter of the demon host, the “Legion” as it was called, that was out there somewhere, threatening to bring its ravages to this world. Few within the temple, and even fewer outside, even knew the threat existed. Sandreena did only because of circumstances, and the trust in which Father-Bishop Creegan held her. And fewer still knew of the relationship between the Father-Bishop and the Conclave of Shadows led by the magician Pug.

She merely nodded her head and said, “I understand.”

“I know you do, Sandreena.” He rose from the desk, came and sat on the corner before her, looking down at her. “I have never told you, but there is a beauty to you that few notice.”

She was a little startled by the statement. There had always been an underlying tension between them, as she found him a very attractive and powerful man, but his reputation as something of a womanizer and their respective ranks had always kept any inappropriate behavior in check.

He held up his hand before she could speak. “I don’t mean your physical beauty—as impressive as that is when you choose to let others glimpse it—but rather a beauty of strength and purpose, what you’ve overcome and managed to achieve despite a desperately difficult beginning. It is…admirable.” He stood up and moved to the window and looked out, saying, “We may get more rain.”

The rain along the coast had made her trip even more difficult, so she hoped he was wrong.

“I am leaving you in charge of the Order while I’m away.”

Her eyes widened. “Me?”

“I’ll send back Father-Bishop Bellamy, to assume my duties, but in the interim, you will take my place here.”

“Take your place?”