was kneeling by the side of the platform, his head bowed to touch the floor. I drew closer just in time to hear his whispered prayers come to an end. He closed his supplication to the Divine Author with, “… and grant me the wisdom to tell lust from love, desire from devotion. Amen.”
It seemed like a prayer most men would find handy, though I was a little surprised lust was high on Lord Tower’s list of concerns. He rose, a little closer to the edge of the sagging platform than most men would find comfortable. Perhaps he spent so much time flying with the Gloryhammer he’d lost all fear of heights. I wondered where the legendary weapon was. Or the armor; it should have made quite a pile once it was off him. Not to mention the Immaculate Attire, which they’d removed before they buried Blade. And, for that matter, where was the Jagged Heart? There still was no evidence that Tower had the harpoon.
Father Ver was sitting nearby, also kneeling, his head beaded with sweat. He was stripped from the waist up, his robes bunched around his hips. Before him lay a two-foot-long braid of leather. I drifted around behind him and saw bright red welts raised among the constellation of scabs along his back.
Tower pulled a small leather notebook from the waistband of his pants. This was the book Zetetic had taken. As he flipped through the pages, he said, softly, “There’s no point in blaming yourself. Blade was the one who chose to dabble in dream magic. You couldn’t have known.”
“We both know that isn’t true,” Father Ver said, closing his eyes. “I could have known.” His voice sounded wet and raspy, as if he’d been crying. “I’ve made too many bad bargains. My pursuit of the greater good has forced me to accept the unacceptable. Ten thousand years of lashings can never erase the harm I’ve done to my soul by agreeing to these compromises.”
“The Divine Author would not have given you these trials if he did not feel you could endure them,” said Tower. “I need you, Ver. You’re the wisest man I’ve ever known. I wouldn’t have accepted this mission without you on the team. But you’ll be of no use to me if you’re too paralyzed by guilt to do the job.”
“I have no guilt,” said Father Ver. “Undeserved guilt is a form of self-deception. Instead I feel shame, regret, and anger.”
“Well, try to work on those,” said Tower dismissively, looking away from the holy man and gazing out of the jungle. “I’m going to go get a little fresh air.”
Without warning he pitched forward and dropped off the edge. We were a hundred feet up. He hadn’t struck me as suicidal. I drifted over the lip of the platform. A light suddenly sparked below, casting shadows upward. I looked down and saw the Gloryhammer in Tower’s right hand; the small notebook was still in his left. His forearm bulged as he gripped the glowing weapon and shot off through the trees, deftly avoiding vines and trunks. I followed, though I didn’t need to follow far. A knot formed in the pit of my stomach as I realized where he was heading. The night went dark again as his feet touched down and the Gloryhammer suddenly disappeared. I blinked as I caught up to him. What had he done with the hammer? Could he simply summon it at will? He stuck the notebook back into the waistband of his britches.
The mystery of the missing hammer was the least of my concerns. Tower had flown directly to the pool, landing barely five yards in front of Infidel, who still perched on the rock, buck naked. Her eyes were wide with shock. She had one arm across her breasts, and the towel draped over her lap. Tower dropped to one knee before her and bowed deeply.
“Princess Innocent,” he said, in a voice just above a whisper. “I offer thanks to the Divine Author that you are still alive.”
“Ummm…” said Infidel. She furrowed her brow. “Hmm.”
“I presume you wear this disguise because you fear retribution from the church,” he said. “You have nothing to fear, my princess. The king has long since used his influence to revoke the sentence of death placed upon you in absentia. Given the unmistakable perfection of your lineage, the Voice of the Book agreed that a proper trial was in order before any punishment is decided.”
Infidel bit her lower lip. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it again. I couldn’t tell if she was still maintaining the ruse that she was a machine, or if she just didn’t know what to say.
Tower continued: “When you disappeared on our wedding day, I suspected you were kidnapped by one of my political enemies. My investigation eventually led to Lord Claypot. He possessed some magic that confounded the Truthspeakers, but I had him tortured until he confessed the plot. Alas, he expired before I learned the full details of the events of that fateful day fourteen years, seven months, and nine days ago.”
Infidel continued to silently stare at the knight.
“I did discover that you had escaped, but were in hiding because you feared retribution from the small segment of fanatics within the Church of the Book who blame you for the destruction. I assure you, I will protect you from them with all my powers. You were a pure and chaste young woman untainted by any hint of wickedness. I’m certain of your innocence, and trust you have the best of reasons for not returning home after you escaped from your captors.”
“Well, yeah,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Like, this ‘pure and chaste young woman’ crap. What the hell? If my father’s spies are even halfway competent, you have to know I support myself primarily by killing people for money. Don’t you think, maybe, just maybe, I don’t exactly fit the definition of pure?”
“I, too, have killed men,” said Tower. “Yet, my heart is pure. Motives matter when judging actions. You’ve done what you must to survive.”
“Motives?” Infidel shook her head sadly. “You idiot. My number one motive was to get away from you!”
“Bu… but… but…” Tower’s face fell as her words sank in.
“Turn around,” said Infidel. “Did you have to wait until I was naked to have this little heart to heart?”
Tower turned around. “I didn’t know you’d be naked. Since I knew you were in the area, I had the Gloryhammer guide me to you. It was poor timing that you are unrobed. I promise I haven’t seen anything. I kept my eyes toward the ground.”
“‘I promise I haven’t seen anything,’” Infidel said in a mocking tone. She jumped from the rock and grabbed her pants. “By the sacred quill! You’re still the same simpering bore. I wouldn’t expect you to know this, but some women are actually flattered by the idea that men want to look at them. When we were engaged, I couldn’t even get eye contact. You acted like holding my hand before marriage might get us sent to hell! I used to have nightmares that you’d show up in our wedding bed with full plate armor, a blindfold, and a pair of tongs.”
She pulled up her pants, buttoning them hastily, getting one of the buttons out of order, so that the leather sat on her hips at an odd angle. She turned around and found the steel bra she’d been wearing, pulling free the cotton slip inside. “If you’ve known since the damned cave who I really was, you should have said something so I could get out of this damned metal bra. My nipples are killing me!”
She spun back to face him, preparing to pull on the slip, and jumped slightly when she found Tower standing only inches from her. He was staring at her with fire in his eyes. “You dreamed…” he said, breathing heavily, “of our wedding night? Don’t you think I had such dreams as well?”
She didn’t get a chance to answer. He suddenly grabbed her by both arms and pressed his mouth to hers. Her eyes bulged as he pulled her to him, pressing her still naked breasts against his chest. He worked his lips against hers for a long moment. I watched in gruesome anticipation, certain that at any moment Infidel would decapitate this lustful fool. But, to my growing horror, she didn’t move a muscle. She let him kiss her for five seconds, ten, a minute, as her eyes stayed wide open. Finally, she pushed him away, with frustrating gentleness.
“Ooookay,” she said, pausing to wipe her lips with the back of her hand. “Let’s stop for a minute. I’ve spent fifteen years avoiding assassins sent after me by the Church of the Book. I’m telling you point blank that I found you boring beyond all imagination when we were engaged. Can you understand I might be a little confused that you show up fifteen years later finally wanting to kiss?”
“I want much more than a kiss,” Tower growled, pulling her against his chest once again. He looked down into her eyes. “When you were young, I found you utterly uninteresting. I was a battle-hardened warrior who’d traveled the world. You were a spoiled child, completely ignorant of life beyond the palace gates. You did nothing to stir my baser passions. But you… you are no longer sweet, virginal, Innocent. You’re a warrior with blood on her hands. Indeed, not just on your hands… you have a dragon’s blood pumping in your very veins. Having witnessed your strength, I know that rumor that you consumed Verdant’s blood must be true.”
“You know I could crush your head like an eggshell?”
“Yes! Whatever the reasons for your actions, you are now the perfect match for my passion! I am a man of fiery needs. You will find no plate mail or tongs in our wedding chamber. There will only be an endless bed
