It was Cortin's turn to hesitate. Mike had mentioned Talent, yes, and had some telepathy himself, with anyone Shayan had mind-touched; the idea wasn't that odd, really, and Medart's offer would save time. Still--"Are you reading my mind?" "No. I touched you briefly when we met, enough to learn you're not a threat, though I did pick up a little other information. Otherwise I seldom use it unless I'm invited or there's an emergency." Her truthsense agreed, so Cortin nodded. "If an injustice is being done, it should be corrected as soon as possible; I accept." She turned to her people. "Mike, Dave--would you take that prisoner to my first-stage room, please, while I give our guests a brief tour of the dungeon?" "Of course," Odeon replied. The two left, and Cortin turned back to the Imperials. "I was making an assumption perhaps I shouldn't," she said. "It's your choice to accompany us or not, Lieutenant DarElwyn." The Sandeman bowed. "I would be honored to do so, Excellency." Something in his tone made Medart glance at him, then do a quick surface scan. Cortin's unconscious Talent had done its job; the warrior was thoroughly in love with the High King's Inquisitor. That, Medart thought, was a complication he didn't need--but it was also one he couldn't do anything about, so disregard it for now. Just make a point of getting hold of DeLayne as soon as he could find a reasonable excuse to be alone. "Let's go, then." Cortin led them outside and to the rear of the Lodge, where a cave-like entrance led underground. Above it was carved, "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here." "Dante's Inferno," Medart commented. "I take it, then, that this is the prisoners' entrance?" "Right," Cortin agreed. "It isn't really Hell, of course, but it is the anteroom to it for most. A few escape that by repentance, but they still have to pay the worldly penalty for their crimes. What happens after that is between them and God; all I can do is administer the Sacraments and finish my work. If it's an interrogation, though, I'll kill one who repents as soon as he's given me any information he has." "You don't even try to save them?" Medart asked. "Their bodies, no," Cortin said, leading them down the stairs. "I told you, I get the stubborn ones. By the time I break them, forcing them to live longer than necessary would be a torment even Cortin the Bitch doesn't care to inflict." At the end of a short passage, she unlocked a massive door and gestured them through, into a dimly-lit corridor with doors along both sides, some with small lights turned on above them. "These are the holding cells, under constant monitoring from the Detention Center and periodic monitoring by my people. Troops from the Center take care of the prisoners, then remove bodies when Lt. Bain and I are done. Or our colleagues, who're free to use any suites we aren't, if they have an overflow."