the whole place when the robe had arrived a half septhour before. “Later, Boss.”
“Yes.” With his Flair, he checked the public teleportation pad near GreatCircle Temple’s east door and found it clear, flicked the switch to show he’d be using it, and ’ported.
The huge, beautiful cream-colored stone building dominated the beginning-to-green landscape. He stopped to admire it—some long-ago Earthan whose name had never been recorded had designed the temple for their new religion, and the colonists’ machines had built it. Without those machines, with just the more powerful Flair that Celtans had, they might, just might, this generation, have been able to raise a building like this.
Or make a cathedral like he aspired to do. That building wouldn’t quite be like the old ones on Earth that Antenn had researched. The Intersection of Hope religion was not an Earthan religion. The Cross Folk had different symbols, but the cathedral would have four equal arms, towering arches, and flying buttresses.
The Temple grounds seemed busy. If Priestess Mugwort was having a review, others might be also. He asked a passing, cheerful journeyman where he might find FirstLevel Priestess Mugwort’s chambers.
The young man eyed him. “She’s closeted with the High Priest.” The journeyman glanced at his wrist timer. “But they should be finished shortly. Use the north door.”
“Thank you.”
“Blessed be.”
“Blessed be,” Antenn replied.
“I
am
blessed! I made ThirdLevel Priest today!” He grinned.
“Congratulations,” Antenn said rotely, his mind on the information he’d garnered. He’d thought she’d already had her interview when she’d accompanied him this morning. She was with the High Priest now? What of her ripped gown? Dammit! He could only hope that she’d been able to do spells before the interview to fix it . . . maybe an illusion spell . . . no, a High Priest would see through a simple illusion spell, wouldn’t he? And religious people of all sorts emphasized honesty.
The box in his hands felt heavier as he recalled his offhand attitude about the dress.
He didn’t really like to recall his own past reviews as apprentice, journeyman, the last one for master. His many yearly reviews. He was an excellent architect. He was not so good at being an employee.
Shrugging the past off and trusting that the Lady and Lord would be helping their priestess, Antenn strolled along the stone path that circled the temple. Flowers and bushes were planted close to the building, then the path, cobbled in reddish stone, then a sweeping lawn. Just the beginning green sprouts of early spring flowers poked a few centimeters from the ground.
The north door wasn’t as busy with priests and priestesses and whoever else wanted to use the Temple.
Sitting in the middle of the walk, focused on the great double doors of oak outlined in brass and inlaid with a stone mosaic of a mountain scene, sat a very ugly tomcat.
He turned his head as Antenn approached. Staring, the cat said,
Greetyou
. He made no effort to move from the center of the walk. Good thing it would accommodate three abreast.
“Greetyou,” Antenn said, turning to go up to the doors. The cat rose to his feet and trotted along.
You are going in? Good. You can hold the door for Me.
His smile neared a smirk.
“Are you allowed in?” Antenn asked. He’d taken his own Fam, Pinky, to several rituals, but it had been understood that Fams were welcome at those times. He didn’t know whether they were on a day-to-day basis.
The cat lifted his nose.
I am sure.
Antenn wasn’t. “Who are you waiting for?” he asked casually, pausing before the doors, and taking time to admire the fine craftsmanship.
Every muscle of the cat’s body swelled with pride, his head lifted, and his tail waved.
I am waiting for My FamWoman, Tiana Mugwort.
Antenn let his hand fall from the handle of the door. “You? You’re FirstLevel Priestess Tiana Mugwort’s
“Yes.” With his Flair, he checked the public teleportation pad near GreatCircle Temple’s east door and found it clear, flicked the switch to show he’d be using it, and ’ported.
The huge, beautiful cream-colored stone building dominated the beginning-to-green landscape. He stopped to admire it—some long-ago Earthan whose name had never been recorded had designed the temple for their new religion, and the colonists’ machines had built it. Without those machines, with just the more powerful Flair that Celtans had, they might, just might, this generation, have been able to raise a building like this.
Or make a cathedral like he aspired to do. That building wouldn’t quite be like the old ones on Earth that Antenn had researched. The Intersection of Hope religion was not an Earthan religion. The Cross Folk had different symbols, but the cathedral would have four equal arms, towering arches, and flying buttresses.
The Temple grounds seemed busy. If Priestess Mugwort was having a review, others might be also. He asked a passing, cheerful journeyman where he might find FirstLevel Priestess Mugwort’s chambers.
The young man eyed him. “She’s closeted with the High Priest.” The journeyman glanced at his wrist timer. “But they should be finished shortly. Use the north door.”
“Thank you.”
“Blessed be.”
“Blessed be,” Antenn replied.
“I
am
blessed! I made ThirdLevel Priest today!” He grinned.
“Congratulations,” Antenn said rotely, his mind on the information he’d garnered. He’d thought she’d already had her interview when she’d accompanied him this morning. She was with the High Priest now? What of her ripped gown? Dammit! He could only hope that she’d been able to do spells before the interview to fix it . . . maybe an illusion spell . . . no, a High Priest would see through a simple illusion spell, wouldn’t he? And religious people of all sorts emphasized honesty.
The box in his hands felt heavier as he recalled his offhand attitude about the dress.
He didn’t really like to recall his own past reviews as apprentice, journeyman, the last one for master. His many yearly reviews. He was an excellent architect. He was not so good at being an employee.
Shrugging the past off and trusting that the Lady and Lord would be helping their priestess, Antenn strolled along the stone path that circled the temple. Flowers and bushes were planted close to the building, then the path, cobbled in reddish stone, then a sweeping lawn. Just the beginning green sprouts of early spring flowers poked a few centimeters from the ground.
The north door wasn’t as busy with priests and priestesses and whoever else wanted to use the Temple.
Sitting in the middle of the walk, focused on the great double doors of oak outlined in brass and inlaid with a stone mosaic of a mountain scene, sat a very ugly tomcat.
He turned his head as Antenn approached. Staring, the cat said,
Greetyou
. He made no effort to move from the center of the walk. Good thing it would accommodate three abreast.
“Greetyou,” Antenn said, turning to go up to the doors. The cat rose to his feet and trotted along.
You are going in? Good. You can hold the door for Me.
His smile neared a smirk.
“Are you allowed in?” Antenn asked. He’d taken his own Fam, Pinky, to several rituals, but it had been understood that Fams were welcome at those times. He didn’t know whether they were on a day-to-day basis.
The cat lifted his nose.
I am sure.
Antenn wasn’t. “Who are you waiting for?” he asked casually, pausing before the doors, and taking time to admire the fine craftsmanship.
Every muscle of the cat’s body swelled with pride, his head lifted, and his tail waved.
I am waiting for My FamWoman, Tiana Mugwort.
Antenn let his hand fall from the handle of the door. “You? You’re FirstLevel Priestess Tiana Mugwort’s
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