He smiled suddenly. “And you’re a Graykey, and I should have specified.”
“Yes, if I may be allowed the observation, Lord Cardinal. You should have. But I don’t imagine you’ve learned much about real Graykey from Ennis Severeth Gilleys.” An eyebrow raised. “Would you prefer to be questioned by Ennis? He might be less likely to offend you inadvertently. And you know, child, you needn’t address me by my full title each time you speak to me. In fact, you could simply call me “Father,” if you wished—it’s perfectly acceptable.”
“Thank you, Lord Cardinal, I’m more comfortable with this form of address.”
He smiled. “I suppose I cannot really disapprove of a proper respect for rank. And Ennis?”
“No, thank you, I have no desire to see him. I prefer to deal with you, Lord Cardinal.”
He was not displeased with this response either. He leaned back, relaxing. “I regret the slap, Miss Gray,” he said, surprising me, for he actually seemed sincere.
“Surely it’s only good sense to keep prisoners off-balance.”
“It is, but there was a component of personal temper in my action that was inappropriate. May I ask your forgiveness? You’re under no obligation to give it, and I promise it will not affect our future relationship.”
I’d really hoped to minimize our future relationship. “I forgive you freely, Lord Cardinal.”
He nodded. “Thank you. You’re very kind. And now may I point out some facts you’ve no doubt noticed lately? You’re not on the Diamond any more, and no one from that city has made any effort to contact you or ask any questions about you. The Mercati is hardly likely to jeopardize his plans by admitting he’s taken a Graykey into his city, and even into his private hunting party.” He leaned closer suddenly, although I was unaware of making any response.
“We know already that your contract-holder is the Mercati’s demon, so you do him no good by denying it.” He pulled his chair closer suddenly, with an irritated look, as though the gap between us was no longer to be borne. He said—and do you know, I believe he spoke sincerely—“All I wish, child, is to establish a relationship of truth between us. We can work from there.”
“Go on,” I told him.
“Some details of your time on the Diamond, that’s all we’d like. I doubt you were privy to any great affairs of state, so why be shy? Minor things, very small details, that’s all. Bear in mind you’ve been deserted by them. I don’t know all the ins and outs of Graykey lore, but in my world a contract work both ways.”
I looked at him quietly.
He said, “Have you considered that you might be going too far in the performance of your duty?”
“One cannot go too far in the performance of one’s duty,” I said flatly. “One either performs it, or one does not.”
Amo’s eyes lit with recognition of a fellow spirit. “My thoughts exactly,” he said. The delight of finding another obsessed performer in this wasteland of the halfhearted was in his voice. “If only some of the priests I supervise felt that way! Oh, child, it would be a pity if we couldn’t come to an agreement. Look at your situation truthfully, now—there’s no way out of it, is there? And brave though you may be, you’re still a woman, without a man’s heart or his physical strength. I value your loyalty, I truly do, and I promise I’ll continue to value it—once it’s properly placed.”
“I beg your pardon?” Now I was thoroughly confused.
“On the Opal, my dear, on the Opal! Ennis has only contracted for a year. We can make a special place for you—we don’t usually put females in any position of responsibility, but I have the power to do it. Have no fear that we’ll dump you onto Baret Station without airspace money. I appreciate intelligence and honor, in whatever guise it appears—you can work as a direct report to the Ecclesiastical Council, and I assure you that will command respect anywhere in the Three Cities.”
I felt momentarily horrified, then blank. “I appreciate your kindness, Lord Cardinal, but I really hadn’t been planning on staying in the Three Cities. Thanks all the same.”
His face fell, like a child’s, the enthusiasm rushing out like water from a bath. His eyes hardened and I could see him place the metaphorical plug on the bathtub shelf and dismiss the disappointment from his mind. He would rise above it. He stood up. “And my questions?”
“As you said, Lord Cardinal, I’m just a woman. I doubt if I have any answers for you.”
“I see.” He grew businesslike. “Well, Miss Gray, I assure you that we will not use drugs in your questioning. Anything that tampers with the mind is against our religion. You interrogation will be straightforward.”
“Umm … I assume that means painful?”
“Yes,” said the Lord Cardinal. He was not a man who avoided facts.
I interrupted him as he walked to the door. “Lord Cardinal!”
He turned. I said, “I feel for my own sake that I should warn you about something. A large part of Graykey training is physical—”
“Yes?”
“Well, if I’m ever in any perceived danger of surrendering to interrogation—drugs or otherwise—my body has been prepared to kill itself.”
He smiled. It was, I saw, a disbelieving smile. “Well, we’ll see, shall we, Miss Gray?” And he left.
He really doesn’t know the Graykey, I thought sadly. I blame Ennis for that.
Chapter 31
Amo’s council rank permitted him not only a special office not far from the detention cells, but a private chapel, and he made use of it. He wanted guidance, and he wanted comfort to make up for the less comfortable aspects of his duty. Hartley Quince found him there an hour later, still kneeling.
Hartley coughed. He had no intention of waiting around until the old man came back to join the world of lesser mortals. The Cardinal looked up, startled, then smiled when he saw Hartley. He rose
