Alarm spread over Rudolfo’s face, and his hands moved quickly. What do you play at, old man?

Petronus ignored him. “Sethbert dies today. Who will carry out his sentence?”

Someone nodded to the band of Gypsy Scouts. “Have them do it.”

Petronus chuckled. “Too long we’ve invited others to our unpleasant tasks. This one we will do ourselves.”

Sethbert now was shaking. His bladder cut loose, wetting the front of his tunic and breeches. But he did not speak.

Now Petronus turned to Isaak. “You. What of you?” Isaak took a tentative step forward. “Of all of us here, he wronged you the most. He bent you against your will and turned you into a weapon beyond our wildest imaginings. He gave you the words to level a city and kill every man, woman, child and beast within.”

The metal man took another step forward. “I want to,” Isaak said now. “I truly do.” He hung his head. “I cannot.” When he looked up, his eyes went dark and his voice took on a tone of profound sadness. “Life is sacred.”

Petronus nodded. “And that makes taking it so much harder. Any time we do so, we take something from the light.” He turned away from the metal man, facing the crowd. “A wise Gray Guard once told me that being willing to die for the light was easy, that being willing to kill for it was a harder matter. Not everyone’s shoulders were meant to bear such a burden.” He looked at Rudolfo. “It is no secret that I do not wish to be Pope. I made that statement plain enough thirty years ago. You have asked me for a new Pope. I will give you one.” He waited, letting the words settle in. “Whichever of you Androfrancines gathered here will come, take this knife and execute this condemned man, may have my Patriarchal blessing and bear the signet of the Gospel of P’andro Whym. Kill this man and be our Pope.”

No one moved. The room became silent.

Then, slowly, Neb stood up.

Vlad Li Tam

Vlad Li Tam wat›€lad Li Tched the fisherman move the pieces on his board and saw his father’s handiwork. He had not expected Sethbert’s sudden resolve. His threat had been unnecessary. Now he saw the young man standing, and he saw the look of grief flash for just a moment across Petronus’s face.

But Petronus would have anticipated this. Because they had taught each other as boys during that summer long ago, he knew how to read him. Petronus had taught him to fish, how to cast the net and pull it and how to cast the rod and drop the hook where trout were rising. In turn, Vlad Li Tam had taught him to play queen’s war, and he had been adequate but awkward.

Now, he played this game as a master.

Petronus stared at the boy. Finally, he repeated himself slowly, intending the words for the one young man in the room who had no hesitation. “Whichever of you Androfrancines,” he said, “come and take this knife.” He broke his gaze with the boy and looked to the mechoservitor who sat listening to the session so that it could later be reproduced on paper. “Let the record show that the young man, Nebios ben Hebda, was removed from the Order by a Writ of Excommunication by Papal Discretion.”

Vlad Li Tam smiled. Another of his old laws.

Glaring, Neb sat down.

A voice rang out, and Petronus looked away from the boy. “A Pope would not do such a thing,” one of the bishops said. “The Whymer Bible forbids it.”

Petronus waited. A murmur rose beneath the tent, and a wind outside whipped through the three entrances, carrying the scent of evergreen and lavender.

Vlad Li Tam watched his old friend’s next move and nodded. The brilliance and beauty of his father’s work was something to behold. In that moment, he realized his own part in that work, and it awed him.

“Very well,” Petronus said. He walked to Sethbert and stood before him. “None of you will kill for the light.”

Petronus laid his hand on the side of Sethbert’s face, gently as if he were a father comforting a wayward child.

But when the old man brought the knife up with his other hand, he was fast and sure, with the precision of a fisherman.

Petronus dropped the blade. He raised his bloody hands above his head.

“This backward dream is over,” Petronus said. “I am the last Androfrancine Pope.”

Then he tugged off his ring and dropped it alongside t›€it alonghe red-stained knife.

Vlad Li Tam stood and quickly slipped from the pavilion. He moved fast, his escort beside him.

Soon, he thought, I will return to fishing.

Petronus

Petronus scrubbed the blood from his hands and forearms in the fountain outside the manor. He’d slipped into a plain brown robe in the commotion that ensued just after his last act as Pope, then he’d made his way out the back of the pavilion and cut through the forest to the town.

So far, it had gone exactly as he’d planned, though he despised himself for the pain he’d caused the boy, Neb. He’d already sent out the birds, disposing of the properties and transferring what holdings remained into Rudolfo’s name. All that remained was to pack and go home.

He moved past the Gypsy Scouts that guarded the manor without speaking, and slipped into his office, locking the door.

“I know why Sethbert destroyed Windwir.”

Petronus looked up to see Vlad Li Tam sitting at his small desk. He had expected him, knowing there would be words between them as soon as he saw him sitting in the crowded tent.

Petronus felt the anger rise in him. “I’m not so sure that Sethbert did destroy Windwir. At least not without prompting.” He pointed to the golden bird. “We know your bird was in Windwir. Did it bring word back to you?”

Vlad Li Tam’s eyes narrowed. “You suspect me. But I had nothing to do with Sethbert. Rudolfo was my work. Just as you were my father’s.”

Petronus felt the words hit him like a fist. “What do you mean?”

Vlad Li Tam shrugged. “You were made for this day, Petronus. Just as Rudolfo was made to guard the light.”

“You’re lying.” But Petronus wasn’t sure.

Vlad Li Tam smiled. “Regardless, I have something for you.”

He drew out a leather pouch and handed it to Petronus. “You’ll find evidence here that there was a secret program in the Order to restore the spell.”

Petronus took the pouch and placed it on his desk. “I don’t doubt that. But that is hardly damning.”

“There is more,” he said. “The bird did tell me that Windwir had fallen. But I did not send the bird to Windwir. It had been missing from its cage for nearly a year before that.”

Petronus looked up, surprised. “Where had it gone?”

Vlad Li Tam stood. “I intend to find out. I am leaving the Named Lands. I will not see you again.” When he said it, Petronus heard finality in his former friend’s voice.

They did not embrace or shake hands. Petronus simply nodded, and Tam left.

Petronus looked at the pouch. Finally, he picked it up, sat at his desk and unclasped the buckles. He drew two bundles of paper out and started scanning one. The first several pages were bank receipts in Whymer script acknowledging Petronus’s closure of Androfrancine accounts. These were followed by Documents of Transfer, moving all remaining holdings to the Ninefold Forest Houses. But the last page stopped his eye. It was a Letter of Contribution addressed to the Order and dated three days before the transfer of holdings occurred.

Vlad Li Tam had found a way to pass his vast wealth on to his daughter through the Androfrancine Order and the Ninefold Forest Houses.

Petronus retied the strings and placed the bank letters on the stack of correspondence that waited for Rudolfo, Isaak and Neb to sort through after he was gone.