"Of course I will."

"Then except for two small personal items, I've done all that is appropriate at this point. Let Mike and Sis guide you, accept the support of the others who are or want to be Sealed, and work for the Protector's objectives." He smiled at her. "The first personal item is to reclaim the symbol Shayan stole and marked you with. You belong to me, not him--as do the other Sealed. Please remove your gloves."

Cortin obeyed, finding as she did that the circled triangles no longer disturbed her. And they didn't look like burns any more; instead they seemed to glow with blue light, somehow comforting. "Will . . . the others have these?"

"If you and they want, yes. It isn't a requirement; being openly Sealed will mark them for Shayan's personal torture if his people capture them, and he needs no supernatural powers to make that weeks of agony. His millennia of practice are enough."

"My team would never forgive me if I left them out of anything, even if it was risky. They'll want these marks, but I don't know about the others--I can't choose for them."

"True. If they want them when they see yours, they'll get them. The other item is a trade, if you wish. Your back pain for the Stigmata, which will show you act with my approval. To compensate for the inconvenience of bleeding periodically, they won't cause you any pain."

"I could hardly refuse anything you offer--I'll make the trade." She hesitated. "Uh, what about the cartridges? Was Sis right about them?"

"She was indeed, so long as the wearer doesn't commit a mortal sin deliberately. You'll forget about the symbols and trade both until the latter takes effect." He kissed her again, in a brotherly way this time, and vanished as he had appeared.

Cortin woke with a feeling of imminent disaster. It had seemed like a nightmare, especially Shayan on the Papal Throne . . . Still, Jeshua had said there was a purpose to it, and he'd outlined what sounded like the only reasonable thing for her to do. She got up, but instead of dressing--the message she'd been asked to pa.s.s along sounded like one that shouldn't wait--she put on a robe and went to Odeon's room.

He'd apparently had a quieter night than she; when he called for her to come in he was still in bed, stretched out in a way that reminded her of a large and perfectly contented cat. "Join me?" he invited.

"Uh-huh." Cortin slipped the robe off and slid under the covers, comforted by his warm strength. "I'm not sure how much help it was, but I did have a visitor last night. He asked me to tell you it was time to inst.i.tute the Communion of Promise, and I got the impression he meant today."

"Good--I've been waiting for word I could. What about what you wanted to know?"

"I found out, sort of. He said I'm the Herald, 'in part'--I was too chicken to ask what he meant by that--and that I shouldn't deny what I'm being called, even if it's the Protector." Cortin shivered, huddling against his chest. "I found out a couple of other things, too. You know the Protector could be a woman? And that Pope Lucius is Shayan, and you and Sis're the Protector's version of a Pope?"

"The last I'd guessed, the rest I knew, yes."

"And that we're on our own now?"

"I thought that was getting close." Odeon kissed her, holding her snugly and stroking her back. "We need two more people, Ivan says, then we'll be in position to hold the fort till the Protector's ready to surface. I expect Betty'll be one of them, but I don't think we've met the other yet."

To her surprise, Cortin found herself becoming aroused. That didn't seem possible, much less appropriate, after her vision--but it was happening. "Mike--"

"What better way to put what you've just been through into perspective?

It took a shelter party to straighten Sis and me out, but I don't think you need anything that extreme." He raised himself as if to get out of bed. "Of course, if you think otherwise . . ."

"I don't, even if a shelter party does sound nice." Cortin shook her head, bewildered. "Shouldn't we be getting ready for Ma.s.s, though?"

"Is it your conscience or habit asking that?" Odeon stroked her hair, then caressed a breast. "Trust your feelings, Joanie. You can't sin, remember?"

"I remember." And Jeshua had been specific about telling her to follow Mike and Sis' guidance . . . She closed her eyes, trying to a.n.a.lyze what she actually felt. That was complicated by Mike's continuing caresses, but it did seem her feelings said this was the right thing to be doing now. Ma.s.s was important, yes, but she shouldn't go to it in the mood she'd had when she wakened, of impending doom; this was the Protector's way of comfort and rea.s.surance.

Cortin kissed Odeon one last time before getting up. "Thanks, Mike--I'm feeling human again, and I'm in fit condition to say Ma.s.s."

"I could tell." Odeon smiled at her. "Glad I could help."

"So'm I. Mind if I use your tub before I go get dressed?"

"Only if you're willing to have company," Odeon replied with a grin.

"I was hoping you'd say that. Come on."

They bathed in comfortable near-silence, then Cortin went to her room to dress. She was feeling better, and it surprised her. The circ.u.mstances hadn't changed, the odds against her and her team were still bad, she was still sure she wouldn't survive her next meeting with Shannon--but Mike was obviously a sovereign remedy for what had ailed her. It was hard to believe he wasn't the Protector, but that couldn't be, if the Protector might be a woman. Sis, maybe? Jeshua had appeared in a Blue Sister's habit . . .

She forced herself to stop that line of speculation; the Protector's ident.i.ty would be revealed at the proper time. In the meantime, speculation was pointless; she'd have enough to occupy her doing whatever the Herald was supposed to do without having instructions.

Follow her instincts and Mike's guidance, she supposed.

When she opened the vestry door to approach the altar, she was surprised to see the entire team--except Bain and Pritchett, who were probably at Betty's by now--waiting, along with the rest of the Sealed ones, Their Majesties, and some others of the Household, who normally attended Ma.s.s at the Cathedral. Her surprise didn't last, though; as usual, when she approached the altar her mind had no room for anything except the ceremony.

That went normally until the Consecration. When she raised the Host and the bell rang, the pain in her back vanished, and she remembered the trade she'd agreed to. As she raised the Chalice, she felt warm wetness circling her head, and on her wrists, back, side, and feet.

Her absorption in the Ma.s.s was complete enough she couldn't spare real thought, but she was able to include a wordless prayer of thanks with the Remembrance and other prayers before Communion.

The rest of the Ma.s.s went normally--the bleeding stopped as soon as she'd administered Communion to the last of those who wanted it--until the after-Ma.s.s prayers were finished. Then she was able to notice a small table had been set up just inside the altar rail--a table like the altar in the common-room--and she knew this was the beginning of the Communion of Promise. But . . . should she give it, or should Mike or Sis? She glanced at them, got the thumbs-up from Mike, and took a deep breath.

Addressing the entire congregation, she gave a brief explanation of the Protector--what she understood, at least--and the Families. She could see doubt on several of the Householders' faces as she described them, mixed with revulsion at her b.l.o.o.d.y state. She could understand that, from civilians; the Enforcement people, to her relief, seemed more intrigued and willing to believe her. "All of my team, myself included--and a few others--are Sealed to the Protector, with Captain Odeon and Lieutenant Chang as His or Her chief priests." She paused, c.o.c.ked her head, then smiled. "To simplify things, I'm going to use the male p.r.o.noun; just remember the actuality could be either."

She paused again, sobering. "Under their authority as His representatives, I invite those of you who wish to support Him, giving up the ability to sin when He comes into the open and you can be Sealed, to come forward and take His Communion of Promise."

She was pleased that all the Enforcement people did so, followed by the King and Queen. More slowly, a few of the civilian Household followed suit, though most held back. That was too bad, Cortin thought, but she'd known not everyone would accept the Protector fully--some not at all. And she had to admit her condition wasn't the most rea.s.suring; it was entirely possible they'd respond better to another celebrant.

When it was clear that everyone who wanted the Communion of Promise had taken it, she dismissed the congregation and returned to the vestry, where she began removing her b.l.o.o.d.y uniform. If this was going to happen every time she said Ma.s.s, she'd have to have a shower installed here--and get something to wear that wouldn't be ruined, or that didn't matter. Whatever her position, she didn't care to ruin either a uniform or a set of vestments every day!

There was a knock on the door, then Odeon's voice. "Need some help, Colonel?"

"Yes--come in, please."

He did, along with Chang. "That was a little more spectacular than anything we'd guessed at," he said quietly. "How do you feel?"

"Fine," Cortin said. "No pain at all, even in my back. I just look like a mess." She grinned at them. "Jeshua said this trade would help, and I think it did, with the Enforcement troops--but it looks to me more like it scared most of the civs in the congregation."

"Sure it did," Odeon said. "Here, let me give you a hand with that tunic-- What would you expect, the first time? We're trained to cope with the unexpected, they aren't--and I've got to admit I was shocked.

Next time everyone'll expect it, and it will help. But--why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't remember till it happened." Cortin pulled herself free of the sticky tunic, looking at it in dismay. "Sis, could you ask someone to get me a fresh uniform? And I'm going to need some help with sponge baths until I can get a shower put in-- Oh, dear G.o.d."

Her memory of the other "little thing" Jeshua had mentioned was triggered. "Mike, Sis--take off your gloves." She pulled off her own; yes, the burned-on symbols were now smooth pale-blue flesh.

"What in G.o.d's Name!" Odeon exclaimed, examining his hands and the symbols that matched Cortin's. Chang's reaction was less emphatic; she merely smiled, then went to pa.s.s along Cortin's request for clean clothes.

When Sis returned, Cortin answered Odeon's question. "Was I wrong?"

she asked when she finished. "I was sure, but--"

"And you were right; if you'd left us out, you'd've had a major morale problem. We were marked the minute we put on Special Ops patches, if you remember." He studied the marks on the backs of his hands again, smiling this time. "It's a difference in degree, not in kind."

"But it's a big degree," Cortin pointed out. "I got the impression that Shayan's skill is to mine as mine is to a first-year recruit's.