Anyone could come inside the temple buildings and see artwork that had been collected for more than a thousand years. There were paintings and sculptures and tapestries with colors so brilliant they seemed to vibrate.

Han and Mari walked in through the side door as the great bells overhead began tolling the hour. They shook like a pair of dogs, scattering droplets over the slate floor of the foyer.

Classes were held in one of the side chapels. When they entered, Speaker Jemson was at the podium, riffling through notes. Behind him stood a line of easels holding paintings drawn from the temple collections that would be used to illustrate his presentation.

His dozen students fidgeted on cushions pulled from the benches in the sanctuary. It was a motley group of girls and boys, ranging in age from Mari’s seven to seventeen. Some were dressed for trade, meaning to go on to their jobs after class.

Jemson, Han thought. So the topic would be history.

“History,” Mari muttered, as if she’d overheard his thoughts. “Why do we need to know what happened before we were even born?”

“So hopefully we get smarter and don’t make the same mistakes again,” Han said, grinning at Jemson. It was one of Jemson’s favorite lines, and he knew his old teacher would appreciate it.

“Hanson Alister!” Jemson said, rounding his desk and striding toward them, his gown flapping around his thin legs. “It’s been a long time. To what do we owe this pleasure?”

“Well, I, um…” Han stammered, exquisitely conscious of Mari looking on. “Actually, I’m not staying. I have something I need to do…”

“He thinks he’s already smart enough,” Mari said, nibbling at a fingernail.

“That’s not it,” Han said. “It’s just I’m working now and…”

“That’s too bad,” Jemson cut in. “We’ll be discussing the Breaking and how it’s been depicted in art through the ages. Fascinating stuff.”

Jemson thought everything was fascinating. It was kind of catching.

Only this time Han had his own reasons for being interested in the Breaking. The story Lucius had told was still rattling around in his brain, kindling little fires wherever it landed. And buried under the forge in the yard was something that might be a piece of that history. Han wanted reinforcement of what he knew to be true.

Except…

“The thing is, I’ve got business in Southbridge and I can’t bring Mari along,” Han said. “So I thought I’d go while she’s in class.”

Jemson eyed him, no doubt taking in his still-purple eye and bruised cheekbone, but not feeling the need to mention it. Which was one of the things Han liked about Jemson.

“I see. Well, most business in Southbridge doesn’t get up this early anyway,” the speaker said dryly.