Kos had been betrayed by Cardinals before, and if traitors were to strike again, now was the time. But gods made poor detectives, their perspectives unmoored from time. Who better to be Kos’s spy than Abelard? So He whispered to the Cardinals and folded the young Technician in their confidence.

Because He was afraid.

But He was wrong.

Bede was more loyal to Kos than to Seril. Nestor was a busybody. Aldis had her territorial insecurities. No person, no church, was perfect. But the Cardinals were faithful. Bede could have taken Ramp’s deal and left Seril to die.

Kos did not trust His Cardinals, so He inspired them to include Abelard in their work. And the Cardinals were smart. They knew the score.

You’re micromanaging, Abelard prayed, because you’re scared.

Only crackling fire answered.

These people love You. They joined the church to serve You, and they do so now, though service scares them. Let them serve.

The fire in Abelard popped and pitted, and sparks burned his skin.

We’re wasted in here, You and I. We could be out in the city, spreading miracles. The work your Cardinals do is important, which is why You called priests to do it for You. Trust them.

Presumption? Temerity? Pride?

Of course.

But what was a saint for, if not to talk with God?

Sun warmth spread through his limbs. That was Abelard’s answer.

When they broke for coffee and tobacco—sorcerers’ hunger for caffeine surpassed only by priests’ need for a smoke—he sought Cardinal Nestor and Cardinal Bede. “Your Excellencies. Thank you for including me in this meeting, but I’m no use here. I can best serve Our Lord by working with Prelate Evangelist Hildegard.”

“Thank you, my son,” Nestor said, and Abelard felt embarrassed by the relief he read in the old man at the news God trusted him. Even Bede’s shoulders rose.

“Do what you can,” the Cardinal said. “Go with God.”

“And you as well,” Abelard replied.

47

47

“Whatever happens,” Tara cautioned Shale as they flew west between skyspires and over the mansions of the Drakspine ridge, “do not try to kill the King in Red.”

“Okay.” Shale sounded unconvinced.

“This is important.” She fed their optera from her expense account—far from bottomless, but she could afford the ride. Travel by dragonfly felt strange at first. She’d been surprised when Shale accepted one rather than flying under his own power.

“He’s a monster.”

Tara shook her head. “He’s a respectable citizen. This city wouldn’t exist without him.”

“A man can be both citizen and monster. Especially here.”

“In which case he’s a monster and a respectable citizen, whom we’re about to ask for a big favor. Besides, if you try to kill him, you’ll probably just piss him off.”

“We almost broke him in the Wars.”