He bent over the manacles, seeing how they fastened. There was something like a keyhole there, though it wasn’t quite anything he had seen before. Holy locks were something he had a passing familiarity with, however, to the despair and fury of a dozen separate church treasurers. He tucked a finger into his belt and winkled out one of his sets of picks.

Luck was with him then, for there was a scuff of sandaled feet behind him before a voice challenged him.

“Brother, what do you do?” Surprised, but not suspicious yet.

Lief stood hurried, making sure his hood was up and shadowing his face. “I checked on the monster. It seemed to be working free of its bonds,” he reported.

There was one of those awkward do I know you? sort of pauses that had screwed Lief over in similar capers, but then the monk was pushing past him.

“That should be impossible,” he announced briskly. “Our Lord Abnasio set those chains himself. This beast has no power to break them, certainly not here in the heart of the Light.” And yet he went to see for himself, as people always did. He knelt before Enth without fear and bent his head to scrutinize the shackles. Really, he could not have obliged Lief more unless he had divested himself of his robe first.

Thwock! went the sap, and Lief gave him another quick pair of thwocks as he went down, because he had cast his lot in temporarily with the monsters of the Dark, apparently, and so a little pettiness seemed appropriate.

“Right,” he said quietly, as he crouched by Enth again. “Now we’re definitely on the bloody clock, so let’s get this off you, and get a robe on you, and then hope that the Li—that something’s smiling on us enough to get you out.” He had his picks into service now, feeling out the contours of the lock, using his handful of little charms and tricks to cut through the holiness of them to get to the physical components behind. Even as he spoke, he felt a heaviness in his stomach that spoke of long odds and bad consequences if he failed. And where the hell’s Cyrene then? If she’s still sitting in some prelate’s waiting room I am not going to be happy.

Enth whimpered again, holding his hands very still to let Lief work. The sound was pitiful. I wonder if feeling pain is something Penthos gave him? Spiders don’t experience it, I’d have thought. Those parts of Lief’s mind unnecessary for lockpicking drifted about, trying not to get in the way. Or perhaps pain’s the enemy no matter which side you’re on, and surely Ghantishmen and the like are close to us, and bleed, and scream. But there’s a line somewhere. Surely spiders are on the far side of it.