Chapter 30: 25 – The Time I Went to Church

Rhian

Reckoned I was in hell.

It was only a matter of time, and I’d always imagined I’d go to the hell where nothing makes any goddess-be-damned sense.

Never mind what happened at the old schoolhouse-slash-tavern, I might have been losing my mind. What with murdering random people, falling asleep in pools of blood, ending up in Michael’s bed, and then forgetting all about it.

The rumours about Amalia were turning out to be true. And a lot like Vincent Delestade, I was convinced the Assembly was trying to kill us. Strauss? That made sense. In their opinion, he was a liability and probably shouldn’t have been left alive in the first place. Me? We’ve been through this. But Michael? His record was spotless.

I wondered what happened in Endica.

Helena Varis—I was not expecting that, but I see what they did there. Reckoned the Assembly wanted to pop a new Partisan out of Michael afore he met his cruel and unusual end. Seeing as I’ve got nothing nice to say about Helena Varis at the minute, I won’t say anything besides saying she was a twit.

After Michael and I were caught doing goddess knows what in his room, I went back to mine across the hall. I didn’t feel like seeing anyone I knew, especially not Strauss, so I got dressed, leaped out the window, and went for a run. I was gone for about a day.

I know I haven’t said much about creation or religion, mainly account of it’s horseshite, but also I keep forgetting. So, here’s how the story goes: Amalia, Delphia, Seneca, Stracha, Endica, and Celestia sat around sipping clouds in the cosmos for about a billion years, and life was peachy for us lowly mortals. Until one day, Celestia threw the tantrum that caused the Divide—reckon they must have been arguing over politics, or colour-schemes, or who got the butt-end of the bread. So, bang, bang. The world split in seven and they turned to each other, talking in their echoey voices, “Well, would you look at that? Now we each have one.” Only, they weren’t all that creative about naming their territories, and they weren’t all that sure what to do with the middle.

“We should whip up more children,” Delphia said, seeing as that’s always a brilliant idea. “And they’ll be smarter, and prettier, and generally better than our first batch.”

Well, Stracha wanted fast ones, and Amalia wanted strong ones. Celestia gave birth to a bunch of powerful pains in the arses. Endica—lovely lass that she is—went and popped out a load of sensitive ones. Seneca wanted wise ones, and Delphia wanted clever ones. So, Partisans. I reckon it was Celestia who came up with the idea of hoarding us all in one place, having us do their dirty work. So, Palisade.

Bottom line: I didn’t care much for religion but I cared a lot for Strauss.

I had to make things right, so I went to church.

“Brother Strauss is under the weather and asked not to be disturbed,” the Father said. “I have very little practical experience in working with your kind, but is there anything I could do for you?”

I wasn’t sure whether he was referring to my race, or the fact I was an Enforcer, but I reckoned it was a bit of both. See, Stracha’s tenants were lax and our code was simple. Win, or run. We also didn’t have churches unless you count the taverns. Stracha’s priests and priestesses traveled around the territory stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. It was considered an honour to have your precious whatnots stolen in the night.

Anyhow, I couldn’t be arsed having a conversation about race, religion, or what I did for a living—if you could call it that. I asked for a tour instead.

There had to be another way to see Strauss, and I was determined to find it.

While I was at it, I learned a few things about him. For example, Strauss was an excellent maid. All the rooms were dead clean, even the bigger ones with furniture covered in sheets had been dusted and waxed. The larder in the kitchen had barely enough food for the folks who needed it, so I said, “No thanks, just ate,” when the Father offered.

“What else does Strauss do around here?” I asked.

“Brother Strauss has lofty plans to reintroduce scholastics to the village. He also tends to the medicinal garden, and the mortuary.”

“Hells,” I said. Oops. “Strauss gardens?”

Much to my surprise, the Father smiled. He was all right. “Brother Strauss gardens poorly, but I’m no longer fit enough to climb ladders.”

“Right,” I said. “What have ladders got to do with gardening?”

“We can’t grow what’s being stolen under our noses. We keep the garden on the roof.”

I felt a bit guilty about finding opportunity in our chat. He seemed like a nice old man. But there it was—my way in.

I finished up the tour to be polite, and then I walked laps around the village until nightfall.

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Climbing the church was easy. To make matters even easier, the hatch on the roof wasn’t locked on account of it didn’t have a lock. And for the record, Strauss’s garden was the saddest bloody thing I’d ever seen.

I’d offer to help him with it later.

After shimmying down the ladder, I landed somewhere near the kitchen—just around the bend from the private rooms. For a minute, it felt like I was back at Palisade, checking random doors for names I couldn’t read and whatnot. Unlike Palisade, there were only two doors with names and I knew how to see the word Strauss.

When I opened the door, Strauss was asleep—face down and snuggled right up.

There was only one thing to do.

I sat on the edge of the bed and gave him a gentle nudge.

What? Were you expecting I’d throw my flask at his head?

If I knew anything for certain—which wasn’t much—startling Strauss was a bad idea. Besides, he really did look sick. I brushed a damp strand of hair away from his forehead, and I waited for him to open both eyes.

The corner of his lips twitched like he was about to smile, and then he changed his mind.

It was quiet for a minute.

“I didn’t do it, Strauss. With Michael. We didn’t do it. At least, it didn’t feel like we did.”

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“I know.”

“All right, then why do I get the impression you’re not too thrilled with me? Is it the fact I’ve been avoiding you?”

“No, that wouldn’t be fair, Sinclair. I’ve been avoiding you as well.”

“Then what is it? Is it the stubble—are you itchy?”

Funny thing about Palisade priests, they weren’t allowed to snip a precious hair off their heads, but it was some sort of sin to grow a beard.

Strauss was always clean-shaven—smooth as baby’s bottom. But not that day.

“No, well—yes, a little bit itchy. I haven’t had the energy.”

“I could do it for you. I’m known to have certain skills with a blade.”

Strauss nodded and pointed over to the cupboard. Truth be told, I was expecting push-back. “Afterward, do you promise to talk seriously with me?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

After lighting the lantern on the wall, I gathered what I needed from the cupboard and filled a bowl with water from my canteen.

Strauss moped his way over to the chair.

It wasn’t the first time I’d shaved a face. When Gus broke both his arms, someone had to do it. But I was feeling nervous anyhow.

I’m not sure I’ve made this clear enough, but Andrei Strauss was a real nice looking lad. He might have been a bit too skinny. Most Celestian were, but he also wasn’t given enough to eat growing up and it showed. His nose might have been too big—down-turned with a big old bump on the bridge, but he was the most handsome man I’d ever seen.

I knew what he wanted to talk about later, and what happened in Delphia never should have happened. The first time—I’d had sneezes more interesting. But by the second go, we’d found the knack. ‘Course, that time never should have happened, either. I wanted to blame Delestade, say that he played some kind of mind trick on us, and that it couldn't be helped. But even if he had influenced us, a Delphi can’t make a person do something too far outside the realm of what they’d already do.

Telepathy is tricky, and it’s one of my favourite subjects.

Maybe I’ll write a brochure about it later.

Strauss tilted his head back so I could work around his neck. He didn’t speak until I was finished the job. It was for the best unless he wanted an intimidating scar.

I asked. He didn’t.

When I was done, I patted his face dry with a clean towel and, like old times, I hopped up on the corner of his desk.

“I wanted to talk about what happened in Delphia,” he said.

“What happened in Delphia never should have happened,” I replied. It was the wrong thing to say. I could tell, but I never meant to hurt him.

“Do you really mean that?”

“No—it never should have happened, but that doesn’t mean I regret it.”

That seemed to do the trick.

“We owe it to ourselves to consider the future,” he said.

“What future? After I leave, there’s a good chance I’m gonna fall asleep in the forest, forget who I am, and get eaten by a bear.”

If it weren’t for the sudden arrival of the twit with the stick up her arse, I’d have at least thrown us a bone and suggested we play house while we could.

“We could defect,” he said.

“And end up like your parents?”

“Yes, because I’ve come to realize a few things about my parents recently, and the way things are going, we’re likely to end up dead anyway—isn’t that what you said? Commander Reider told me your theory, and it isn’t entirely implausible. If we’re going to die anyway, why shouldn’t we at least do what makes us happy?”

“On account of there are still people missing, and we still have a job to do. What does our little romance have anything to do with that? I might be opposed to Palisade as an institution, but I’m not opposed to doing good things for good people.”

Strauss nodded easily. “I was speaking more or less rhetorically. I didn’t have any expectations coming into this conversation, Sinclair. I only wanted to let you know what I’ve been thinking—what I’ve been feeling. Let’s focus on the case and try not to die, and maybe, if any part of you feels the same way, we’ll see an opening to do something about it when—or if—we’re lucky enough.”

What could I say? The man made sense. I like sense.

Goddess-be-damned pain in the arse.

We shook on it, and for the rest of the night I stuck around playing nurse-maid while he told me all about his time with Gus, the man in the purple suit, and the trip to Leberecht.

Reckon you can sort out where we planned to go next.

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