Cortin grimaced. Illyanov's quiet, level words stung; she knew she was doing useful work. It was just that it didn't feel like enough, and--especially after Mike's gratuitous torture--she wanted to take the sort of direct action Ivan said she shouldn't. It would be so satisfying to go into the Vatican during a major public event and challenge Lucius with his real identity, force him to take some sort of action that would prove it! He'd kill her, of course, but it'd be worth it to bring him into the open. "I'll behave, I promise--even though I'd rather not. Isn't there anything I can do for Mike?" "There is a possibility," Illyanov said thoughtfully. "According to some of our writings, the Herald may be granted the use of some of the Protector's powers--your truthsense may be one. Another should be healing--though as Michael's problem is not life-threatening, that might not come into play." "It might, though, since it's due to Shayan's direct action." Cortin stood. "I've got to give it a try--if it works, I'll be back with him." For Shayan's reaction: 20a. Decision 21. Anguish Tuesday, 17 March 2572 Cortin prayed harder than she could remember ever having done before, resting her hands on Odeon's forehead and chest, trying to give him her own strength in case the Protector didn't see fit to intervene. Mike had been hurt doing the Protector's work; if there was any justice at all, He should at least give Mike back the strength he'd spent on His behalf! Apparently He agreed, Cortin thought as she felt her hands grow warm. It was a peculiar sensation, as if she were absorbing energy through every pore of her body, channeling it, and pushing it into Odeon. His color improved and he grew visibly stronger, until he seemed to be in a natural sleep rather than a coma. At that point the power-flow stopped; as she removed her hands, he opened his eyes. When he did, his expression frightened her almost as much as his weakness had. Granted that no one could face Shayan and come out of it unchanged, Odeon looked . . . haunted. "Dave told us about it," she said softly. "So you don't need to talk about it unless you want to." Odeon sat up, putting his arms around his knees, looking away from her. "I don't want to--but you deserve to know that I may not be much good to you any more. I . . . I don't think I could go through that again--I don't see how you and Sis can even consider facing him."