She hailed a carriage, tried to climb in, had Caliban attempt to hand her in, gave him a look that practically steamed the rainwater off him, and settled herself inside without further incident.
“Sorry,” he said, sitting opposite. “Were you a nun, courtesy would dictate…never mind.”
“I amnota nun,” said Slate. “Incidentally, that’s the first time I’ve ever had to tell anyone that.”
Caliban smiled briefly. “I was largely raised by them,” he said. “Please believe me that it is no insult.”
“Mmm.”
The carriage rattled to the temple square. Four temples stood opposite each other, one in each cardinal direction. The Dreaming God’s temple stood on the eastern side, pillars sheathed in marble, glinting even in the evening rain.
Slate paid the driver. Caliban stood next to the door, looking slightly lost.
“Fine,” muttered Slate, giving him her hand. “Don’t tell Brenner.”
He gravely assisted her down onto the wet cobblestones. Slate wondered if treating her like a nun boded well for their working relationship.
He did murder several of them, of course.
Yes, well. People are complicated.
She strode out across the square toward the temple, only pausing when she realized that her guard dog was apparently no longer at heel. Slate turned her head.
He stood staring at the temple. It was too dark to see through the shadow of the hood, but he had an edge of his cloak in his hands and was wringing it with such force that she almost feared for the oilcloth.
“Come on,” she said, walking back to him. “If you stand here, people are going to notice.”
“I was a fool to think I could come here,” he said hoarsely. “I can’t go in there.”
“Well, I already paid the bribe and I hate to waste money.”
He blinked at her. She wondered if anything else she said would have gotten through to him. “Bribe? Youbribedsomeone?”
“Seat in the choir loft. I told him we’re wealthy donors looking to check out the acoustics, but he’s pretty sure we’re actually going to be screwing. Come on, you can have a breakdown once we’re out of the rain.”
That got him moving. “One of the temple servants took money? But we could be possessed! Or—or—this is a threat to the security of the temple!”
“Good thing it’s us, huh?”
He stalked beside her all the way to the temple steps. The doors were open, revealing a glimpse of vaulted ceilings. Slate started up the steps, didn’t hear footsteps, turned and looked again.
“Do we need to keep doing this?”
Caliban shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said, pulling the hood lower over his face.
“Good. Let me do the talking.”
They went through the doors. Slate heard Caliban draw in a sharp breath, as if he’d been struck. She put her own hood back and went up to the short, pleasant-faced man standing at the door.
“It’s me,” she said.
“Lady!” he said. “Of course—yes—follow me.” He looked curiously at Caliban but asked no questions. “When you are finished, you may leave by these stairs. Please lock the door behind you. The loft is not open for evening services, but of course, in this case, an exception…”
Caliban rumbled something wordless and angry.
The temple servant looked doubtful for a moment. Slate took his hand, pressed a coin firmly into it, and said “Thank you for your assistance. I predict great things for so helpful an individual as yourself.”
“Yes, of course…” He glanced at the coin in his palm and the doubt smoothed away completely. “Anything that I can do to be of assistance, of course!”
