"I think so, too." Powell hesitated, then glanced briefly at Odeon and mouthed, "What about Mike?"

Cortin shrugged, wishing again that she and the rest of the team shared the telepathy Shayan had given Sis, Dave, and Mike. Even limited to themselves, unlike the telepathic Talent Ivan described, it would have been useful.

There was no point in fruitless wishing, though, so she turned her attention to the meal and her hosts. "This was very thoughtful of you and the rest, Captain Watkins--we all appreciate it. I, for one, have gotten more out of touch than I intended, that morning at the Eagle's Nest."

"You have had a lot to occupy you, Excellency." Watkins ventured a smile. "It's an honor to have you with us--but I must confess it's a little unnerving sitting next to the Protector's Herald."

"It's more than a little unnerving to be the Herald," Cortin said. "It might not be as bad if I had a decent idea what I was supposed to do, but I'm operating by guesswork. On the other hand, it'll give me a better chance of establishing the Families." She wished she could tell everyone here about her Family, and fief, and coming grandchild, but that would have to wait . . . "Do you have an understanding chaplain yet?"

"Not exactly, but Lieutenant Bain hears Confessions at the Center often enough that we're in a lot better shape than we were." This time, his smile wasn't tentative. "Having the Communion of Promise, and the Herald being an Inquisitor, helps even more. Civs still don't like us, but I've seen less hostility since you got the stigmata."

"That'll help," Cortin said. "I have a feeling we're supposed to be the leaders of the Protector's . . . guardians, I suppose, for lack of a better word. Not to guard Him, of course, He won't need it, but to guard His people from the ones who don't accept Him and aren't willing to let those who do live in peace. As I told Colonel Illyanov once, as long as humans have free will, Enforcement's still going to be necessary."

"Colonel Illyanov, yes." Watkins looked at her quizzically. "Four of the ones Sealed so far are Inquisitors, and two of them have gotten sudden promotions to the top rank; one other was already there. The rest of the Sealed are high ranking themselves or closely a.s.sociated with rankers--not at all like Jeshua and His disciples."

Cortin shrugged. "That's how I'm told it's supposed to be, this time around. This is the Final Coming, and if the Protector defeats Shayan, He'll be reigning over at least the Kingdom Systems; His mortal staff will have to have some top-level experience to give Him proper support.

I think you can expect to see more promotions and other changes in the fairly near future."

"G.o.d willing, He'll come into the open soon--promotions or not, I want to be Sealed myself."

"And he's not the only one," an intense-looking young Lieutenant said.

"Don't get us wrong, Excellency, we sure wouldn't turn down any promotions, but over half the staff of the Center--maybe three-quarters of the Inquisitors--mostly want Sealed. Myself included."

Cortin's truthsense said they were understating the intensity of their desire for the Protector's chief benefit. Their yearning to be Sealed seemed to be every bit as strong as her desire to avoid the confrontation with Shayan she was sure would cost her her life--and if, she thought grimly, the h.e.l.l-King could manage it, with pain even greater than Mike's. She forced that thought back; the confrontation would happen, and a Strike Force member's job description practically guaranteed death in the line of duty--the questions were when and how, not if.

It didn't surprise her particularly that it was the Inquisitors who most wanted to take advantage of the Sealing. Their work, done properly, was a constant strain, with the accompanying urge to take out their frustrations on a subject--or not do what was needed to get vital information. The line between the Warrant-protected violence of their duties and the sin of giving in to personal weakness was a thin one, easy to rationalize crossing . . . "I'm praying for you and everyone else who wants His protection," Cortin said. "And I'm beginning to believe being Sealed is going to be necessary for Inquisitors in His Kingdom. We may never be loved, but having truthsense and being in a constant state of grace, we should at least be trusted, and only criminals will have any reason to be afraid of us."

Watkins smiled. "Theoretically that's true now--but in fact, I'd like to be able to walk down the street in uniform and not have half the sidewalk to myself."

Cortin chuckled. "That's a problem I haven't had lately, but I remember the feeling. I hope you get it soon."

Watkins frowned. "That doesn't sound like you expect to, Excellency."

Cortin looked at the red crossed daggers on her sleeve. "I'm Special Ops, Captain, and I've been told I'll be going face to face with Shayan. That has to mean it's my death that'll signal the Protector's arrival. So no, I don't expect to see His earthly Kingdom."

Watkins nodded. "I understand, Excellency. But I'll pray for it anyway."

"I'd appreciate that. Something else I was told was that piety was crucial--spread the word, would you?"

"Of course." Watkins hesitated. "What about--what you just said, that you'll have to face Shayan yourself?"

Cortin shrugged. "If it had to be kept secret, I wouldn't have been able to say anything about it. Say what you want." She took a deep breath. "I'd rather not think about it any more right now, though, so would you mind if we change the subject? This breakfast looks and smells too good to spoil with that sort of discussion."

"As you say, Excellency." Watkins thought for a moment, then c.o.c.ked his head. "I've heard Your Excellency is fond of animals?"

"Yes--why?"

"Because I have some six-week-old kittens I'm trying to find homes for.

They aren't purebred, though."

"Neither am I," Cortin said. "Yes, I'd like one--two, if that isn't being greedy."

"Two is fine. Whenever you have time to come by and pick them out."

"How about as soon as we're done here?"

"My pleasure, Excellency."

For the first time since learning to drive, Cortin was glad that her rank meant she sat in back while someone else drove. She'd ended up with three of the kittens, and they were currently playing tag around her lap and shoulders, with occasional forays to Odeon. He didn't seem to object to their touch, and once he even seemed to smile for a second when the orange tiger-striped one purred in his ear. He hadn't worked up to stroking them yet, but she hoped that would only be a matter of time; animals were supposed to be good therapy, as well as being fun.

Even the kittens, it seemed, couldn't distract her completely from Mike's problem. He needed help too badly for her to ignore it long, especially when he was right there beside her! He'd helped her when she was hurting; why in G.o.d's Name wouldn't he let her help him? She hadn't planned on saying anything, but--"Mike, you must know I'm willing--eager!--to do anything in my power for you."

"I do know," he said. "Blast it, Joanie, you can't think I enjoy feeling this way--afraid of intimacy with any of you!"

"I don't think that at all," she said quietly. "I just wish I could convince you--you must know you can't contaminate us. You're Sealed, Shayan can't corrupt you! Sis and I both know it feels that way, but being victimized doesn't make you any less of a person."

He was silent so long she didn't think he was going to answer, but eventually he said, "Intellectually, I understand that. It's my feelings that're the problem."

"Yes, they are." Cortin paused. "Have you considered taking the advice you gave me once? Offer the hurt to G.o.d. You're Sealed to the Protector, His priest as well as Jeshua's; if you ask, I'm sure one or both Aspects will help you gladly."

"I've done that, of course. So far it hasn't worked." He glanced at her, then looked down at the kitten. "Joanie, it's not just what Shayan did to me. That's most of it, but . . ."

Cortin frowned. "What Ivan was saying about the Protector?"

"Yeah."

"I'm scared of the Empire myself--but if it does produce the Protector, I'd have to change my opinion." She sighed. "I'm not sure whether I like the idea or not, but if that's the way it works out, I'll have to accept the fact. So will you."

Odeon nodded grimly. She was acting Protector, so he couldn't argue that; if the true Protector came from the Empire, he would have to accept Him or Her, and by extension, His or Her place of origin.

"Should I start studying the Empire, then, like Ivan did?"

Cortin c.o.c.ked her head, thoughtful, then she nodded. "It might not be a bad idea at that. I don't have any cosmic hunches or anything, but if he's right, we should be prepared."

"Okay. It might actually be interesting."

Cortin smiled. "I'll settle for that. Between study and little Orange there, you may be combat-ready in time for the convent defense."

"I hope so. But she's Tangerine, not Orange." Odeon's lips twitched in a near-smile as he kept the kitten from crawling into the sleeve of his tunic. "I'll work it out, Joanie--just give me time."

"All I can, but we know there isn't much, and I will not have someone under my command going into combat in that condition. If you haven't straightened out by noon Tuesday, either you let me try unity or you're on the inactive list until you do recover."

"Permanently, you mean," Odeon said bleakly. "After Wednesday, if you remember, His Majesty has ordered me out of action."

"Of course I remember," Cortin said. "Mike, please believe I don't want to hold you back--but I won't let you go into action with almost no chance of survival unless there's absolutely no choice."

"I understand."