"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. And that's without using any of his powers--if he does use them, he could make it last for . . . years, maybe, knowing you'd be free of him as soon as you died." "True, but years is still better than forever. And if playing with us keeps his attention away from civs . . . well, that's why we all joined the Service, isn't it?" "Yes--though I doubt any of us thought, then, that it was Shayan himself we'd be diverting. I know I didn't." "Not directly, no," Odeon agreed. "But some of the ones under his influence aren't much of an improvement." He paused, changed the subject. "You did a nice job with the Communion of Promise." "Thanks." Cortin tested the water temperature in the vestry's small sink, then began washing blood off her arms. The wounds on her wrists were as painless as she'd been promised, and looked freshly healed, though she was certain they'd be open again every time she said Mass. "Word of these and the Communion of Promise should reach Rome in three or four hours, which means Pope Lucius will guess--or know--I'm the Herald. He'll have to take some sort of action, even if it's not a direct physical assault." She turned to Odeon, her expression grim. "Much as I don't want it to, Mike, I'm afraid this is going to tear the Church apart." "So did the Great Revival, back in the 1500s," Odeon said. "It came out of that stronger and healthier than ever--it'll do the same this time, if the Protector wins." "And if not, Shayan destroys humanity, at least in the Kingdoms." * * * * * Being acknowledged as the Protector's Herald--even "in part," whatever that meant; she still wasn't sure she wanted to know--was a relief, Cortin decided. At least also "in part", since she hadn't wanted that kind of responsibility and wasn't at all sure she was up to it--but if nothing else, it did explain why so many things had happened to her so fast. She'd do her best to live up to the position she'd been given, whatever her doubts; as Mike had said, God would test you to the absolute limits of your endurance, but not beyond them. And she had help. Not only the Sealed ones, but civilians, which had been proven over the last week of getting ready for the Bains, especially the children. She'd expected help from the team and servants; it had astonished her to have the ladies from the New Eden joyhouse show up, several with children, to make the third floor--to quote Madame Bernadette--"a proper place to raise healthy, happy children."