Geri came in after Alberich let the door fall closed again, and it did so with a hollow thud. The priest—for Gerichen was a full Sunpriest now, just as Alberich was a full Herald—peered toward the shadows enshrouding the door, and made out at least the basic form enshrouded by a rain-cape. “What can I do for you, my s—” Geri began, as Alberich threw back the hood of his cape and stepped forward so that Geri could see who it was.

“Don’t call me your son, Geri,” he admonished in Karsite. “You’re nowhere near old enough to be my father.”

“Keep coming at me out of the dark like that, and my hair will soon be white enough to pass for your father,” Geri replied. “Of all people, you were the last I would have expected to see tonight.”

“A mutual friend suggested that I don’t come visit nearly enough.” Alberich felt himself relaxing in the familiar surroundings that said safe haven to his younger self, no matter what had happened to him later at the hands of Sunpriests.

“Ah?” Geri raised an eyebrow, and then a hand. “Well, in that case, since this is a social call, shall we take this to my quarters?”

“Lead on.” Alberich came up the aisle toward the altar. The sanctuary, the entire temple in fact, was a harmonious construction of carved and shaped wood, from the vaulted roof to the parquetry floor. The bench pews were finished with finials carved in the shape of a torch flame, and the Sun-In-Glory was inlaid in very subtle parquetry behind the altar. The several woods used to create it were of shades so near in color that you had to look for the pattern, and know what you were looking for, in order to see it. More patterns, geometric this time, were inlaid in the backs of the bench pews, in the floor, in the altar itself—and these were anything but subtle. Every color of wood possible had been used here, and Alberich reckoned that the artisan in question was either now a very wealthy man, or else was a devoted member of the congregation doing it for the glory of the One God, for it was quality work, and wouldn’t have come cheaply.

Geri led him in past the altar and the door behind the altar itself. This was a kind of robing room, with vestments hung up all over the walls. A door in the opposite wall led to the priests’ quarters.

“Here,” Geri said, motioning him into a tiny kitchen. “It’s warmer in here than anyplace else. Have a seat; Henrick’s asleep, but don’t worry about waking him. He could sleep through a war and a tempest combined. Do you want anything to drink? Beer? Tea?”