wanted to find. I just never really expected I would.' A shadow crossed his face.
'But?'
'It's a bit weird, too.' He looked guilty at this observation.
'You don't know the half of it.' Gardener had so much in his mouth that he spat a lump of mushed vegetables back on to the plate with his words.
Daniels shook his head wearily. 'I'm asking Blaine to include etiquette in his tiresome list of lessons to be taught.'
'There's been talk,' Gardener said. 'Some strange stuff happening around here.'
'Oh, here we go again.' Daniels rolled his eyes. 'Lights in the sky. Mysterious this and strange that. Usually reported by people who've had the Toronto Blessing one time too many.'
'You're a cynical bastard, Daniels, and no mistaking.' Gardener swallowed his mouthful and stifled a belch. 'See? Etiquette.'
'Heavenly,' Daniels replied. 'Which finishing school did you go to again?'
'What strange stuff?' Miller said.
Gardener leaned across the table conspiratorially. 'Ghosts, for one. And not just one. Some old bishop . . . Seth Ward, someone said ... he was seen crossing the nave. One of the brothers saw a man's face pressed up against the windows in what used to be the old cafeteria ... all hideous, like. A cowled figure in the cloisters . . .'
'I can't believe you fall for that nonsense!' Daniels said.
'How different is it from the manifestation of the Holy Spirit?' Gardener waved his fork in Daniels' face.
Daniels batted it away. 'Very different. It's not real for a start.'
'And there were lights, floating over the altar,' Gardener continued. 'Beeson heard voices when he was praying in the cathedral . . . calling to him, saying . . . worrying things.'
'What kind of things?' Daniels said.
'I don't know.'
'No, because it's a story, and a feeble one at that. They never have any detail. Just someone heard this, or someone saw that.'
'Don't believe it, then,' Gardener said with a shrug. 'See if I care.' He turned to Miller and Mallory. 'But the smart folk here think it's wise to
keep your wits about you, and to stay away from the lonely places at night—'
'Has anyone been hurt yet?' Daniels asked.
'No.'
'Then why are you making out like it's the Amityville Horror? You're such an old woman, Gardener.'
Gardener smiled tightly at Miller and Mallory. 'You know what it's like out there in the world. And it's the same in here. Nothing's what it seems.'
Their conversation was disrupted by a commotion near the door. Diners peeled away to allow a small entourage to move slowly into the room. At its centre was the bishop, walking with the aid of a cane and the support of two attendants. Julian and Stefan followed behind. All eyes followed Cornelius's excruciating progress.
Daniels' brow furrowed. 'He normally eats in the palace.'
'He looks as if he hasn't got the strength to get across the room,' Mallory said.
'His legs are a bit shaky, but don't go underestimating him. He's sharp as a pin,' Gardener said.
'What are the others like?' Mallory's attention was fixed on Stefan.
Daniels pointed with a carrot impaled on his knife. 'Stefan's a bit of a cold fish. He used to be some businessman up in Manchester before he saw the light, I think. Julian's OK. A bit too quiet for me, thoughtful, you know, but he's got a very liberal view of life. He wasn't involved in the Church before the Fall, but they promoted him out of nowhere because he's brilliant, or so they say. Very learned about philosophy, comparative religion. I don't know if he was an academic, but he's a sharp guy, definitely.'
Cornelius made his way to a table not too far from the door, which was hastily vacated for him. His attendants lowered him into a chair while Stefan brought over a plate of food that he proffered with a formal bow.
'This is a show,' Mallory said quietly. 'A little spin-doctoring. To let the common man know the bishop is just an ordinary joe. He's not larging it in the palace. He can eat vegetable mush with the rest of the suckers.'
'Be respectful,' Miller hissed.
Mallory
'But?'
'It's a bit weird, too.' He looked guilty at this observation.
'You don't know the half of it.' Gardener had so much in his mouth that he spat a lump of mushed vegetables back on to the plate with his words.
Daniels shook his head wearily. 'I'm asking Blaine to include etiquette in his tiresome list of lessons to be taught.'
'There's been talk,' Gardener said. 'Some strange stuff happening around here.'
'Oh, here we go again.' Daniels rolled his eyes. 'Lights in the sky. Mysterious this and strange that. Usually reported by people who've had the Toronto Blessing one time too many.'
'You're a cynical bastard, Daniels, and no mistaking.' Gardener swallowed his mouthful and stifled a belch. 'See? Etiquette.'
'Heavenly,' Daniels replied. 'Which finishing school did you go to again?'
'What strange stuff?' Miller said.
Gardener leaned across the table conspiratorially. 'Ghosts, for one. And not just one. Some old bishop . . . Seth Ward, someone said ... he was seen crossing the nave. One of the brothers saw a man's face pressed up against the windows in what used to be the old cafeteria ... all hideous, like. A cowled figure in the cloisters . . .'
'I can't believe you fall for that nonsense!' Daniels said.
'How different is it from the manifestation of the Holy Spirit?' Gardener waved his fork in Daniels' face.
Daniels batted it away. 'Very different. It's not real for a start.'
'And there were lights, floating over the altar,' Gardener continued. 'Beeson heard voices when he was praying in the cathedral . . . calling to him, saying . . . worrying things.'
'What kind of things?' Daniels said.
'I don't know.'
'No, because it's a story, and a feeble one at that. They never have any detail. Just someone heard this, or someone saw that.'
'Don't believe it, then,' Gardener said with a shrug. 'See if I care.' He turned to Miller and Mallory. 'But the smart folk here think it's wise to
keep your wits about you, and to stay away from the lonely places at night—'
'Has anyone been hurt yet?' Daniels asked.
'No.'
'Then why are you making out like it's the Amityville Horror? You're such an old woman, Gardener.'
Gardener smiled tightly at Miller and Mallory. 'You know what it's like out there in the world. And it's the same in here. Nothing's what it seems.'
Their conversation was disrupted by a commotion near the door. Diners peeled away to allow a small entourage to move slowly into the room. At its centre was the bishop, walking with the aid of a cane and the support of two attendants. Julian and Stefan followed behind. All eyes followed Cornelius's excruciating progress.
Daniels' brow furrowed. 'He normally eats in the palace.'
'He looks as if he hasn't got the strength to get across the room,' Mallory said.
'His legs are a bit shaky, but don't go underestimating him. He's sharp as a pin,' Gardener said.
'What are the others like?' Mallory's attention was fixed on Stefan.
Daniels pointed with a carrot impaled on his knife. 'Stefan's a bit of a cold fish. He used to be some businessman up in Manchester before he saw the light, I think. Julian's OK. A bit too quiet for me, thoughtful, you know, but he's got a very liberal view of life. He wasn't involved in the Church before the Fall, but they promoted him out of nowhere because he's brilliant, or so they say. Very learned about philosophy, comparative religion. I don't know if he was an academic, but he's a sharp guy, definitely.'
Cornelius made his way to a table not too far from the door, which was hastily vacated for him. His attendants lowered him into a chair while Stefan brought over a plate of food that he proffered with a formal bow.
'This is a show,' Mallory said quietly. 'A little spin-doctoring. To let the common man know the bishop is just an ordinary joe. He's not larging it in the palace. He can eat vegetable mush with the rest of the suckers.'
'Be respectful,' Miller hissed.
Mallory
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