"I think it started with the gloves."

"Hmm." Harper slowed his descent, realizing that the climb was harder for Edward than he would admit.

"You always seemed to be keeping something back. You know, all the other lads were so desperate to talk their heads off, and you never seemed to want to tell anyone anything. You always stood out that way. Waterstone was still rolling the idea around last time I talked to him. Not seriously. It just settled into a private joke between the two of us."

"I wish he were right," Harper replied. "Then I might have some Prodigal power to call on instead of just climbing down from here."

"Being able to fly would be rather handy right now, wouldn't it," Edward agreed.

The cut in Harper's palm throbbed each time he gripped a rung of the ladder. He glanced up to see how Edward was handling the climb. He moved slowly but smiled when he noticed Harper watching him.

"It's funny," Edward continued, "that Waterstone never said a thing about Joan."

"What?" Harper almost lost his grip. The lamp hanging from his forearm rocked wildly, flashing green light up into his face.

"He never suspected Joan, even though he met her dozens of times. She hid it so well, I don't think anyone would have suspected."

"How long have you known?" Harper asked.

"It took me a while to work the whole thing out. But after our honeymoon, I was pretty sure. There are some things that just can't be hidden when the two of you are...close."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Harper asked.

"I suppose I was waiting for her to confide in me." Edward shook his head. "If I had known how little time we would have together, I wouldn't have waited. It was so easy to imagine her being with me forever. I thought we had all the time in the world."

"I'm sorry." It was all Harper could say without betraying Joan's trust. He continued climbing down. He went slowly, making sure that Edward didn't fall too far behind him.

"I always wondered if you knew," Edward said. "I thought you did, but you never let on at all."

"If it had been my choice, I would have told you."

"I know."

They continued climbing. Harper couldn't think of anything to say. Edward always began their conversations, so Harper remained silent until Edward spoke again.

"I always wondered how you worked in the Inquisition and had a Prodigal sister at the same time." Edward's voice was quiet, almost tentative. He rarely spoke with such caution. Harper glanced up at him to see if something was wrong.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't feel like it," Edward said, catching Harper's curious glance.

"There's nothing much to tell. Joan never got into much trouble. The two halves of my life rarely crossed each other."

"I didn't mean directly." Edward paused as he shifted his arm awkwardly from one rung down to the next. "I guess I was wondering more about how you thought of Prodigals. On one hand you're a priest, and they are devils. On the other, your sister was one of them, and I know you loved her."

"I still do," Harper replied.

"Yes, I do too." Edward continued climbing in silence for several minutes. Harper said nothing. It seemed kinder to let Edward have his privacy. It was easier on Harper this way too. So long as Edward said nothing, Harper could not be tempted to comfort him with the truth.

But Harper knew the silence would not last. Edward had never been a private man. He had never had to disguise his desires as abstinence or crush his outrage to silence. Edward lived a life of shameless honesty.

"Isn't it strange," Edward said, "how you can know someone's gone, and yet you can't stop feeling as if they were still with you? Every Tuesday evening I still wander into the bedroom as if I need to remind her that the Pipers are going to be arriving for bridge. I know she's gone, but I don't quite feel it. I keep expecting to see her or hear her in the other room. At night when I'm just drifting off to sleep, I'll keep reaching out to put my arm around her..." Edward stopped for a few moments. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to just keep rambling on."

"It's all right," Harper assured him. "People tend to ramble after they've been through an Inquisition confession. Talk all you want."

"Actually, I was hoping to hear you talk a little, Will. You never did say what you thought of Prodigals."

"You could pick another subject if you'd like," Harper offered.

"No. I want to know. I never could ask you before, but I want to know."

"The answer's not all that interesting." Harper peered down, but he still couldn't see to the end of their descent. The darkness below seemed infinite.

"Just tell me, and I'll decide if it's interesting or not," Edward said.

"Very well." Harper paused for a moment to think of how to put his thoughts into words. "The thing that I find absurd about condemning Prodigals as devils is that devils and angels are the same creatures. Prodigals were angels long before they were ever called devils. Lucifer, Satanel, Sariel, Azeal all of them. Each of the fallen angels was created even before the earth, and they were not made from mud but from the will and body of God himself. Even the most degraded and ruined Prodigal is still closer to divinity than are any of us born of Adam's flesh."

"Is it just my ignorance, or does this opinion of yours smack of heresy?" Edward said after a moment.

"Yes, it does smack a little. But it's not just my opinion; it's stated fact in the scriptures. Lucifer, whom God made Prince of the Air and the Stars, is the same Lucifer who fell to the Abyss. Sariel and Rimmon were archangels of the storms before they became lords in hell. If we accept that Prodigals were once devils, then we must also acknowledge that they were also the third of Heaven's Host who revolted against God. They were angels. You can't have one without the other."

"I hadn't thought about it before, but I suppose you're right." After a moment Edward added, "It's amazing you haven't been excommunicated."

"I think you're the first person I've told." Harper glanced down again. There was a dim glow far below them. The sounds of the steam pistons grew steadily louder.

"Tell me." Edward had to raise his voice a little. "Do you live by the principle that what people don't know can't hurt them?"

"No," Harper replied. "What people don't know can't hurt me."

"Even better," Edward said. "So, do you have any other secret theories?"

"A few," Harper admitted.

"Well, tell me then."

"They're too dull. You'll nod off and fall off the ladder."

"You said the last one was uninteresting, and it shocked me quite a bit."

"Really?" Harper looked up to see if Edward was joking. Then he realized that he had been around Belimai too much lately. Edward was never sarcastic.

"Of course." Edward stopped to rest his arm, and Harper waited for him. "It's not every day that a captain of the Inquisition tells me he believes Prodigals are more divine than the Sons of Adam. Even radical anatomists like Raddly don't say things like that."

"The same Raddly who vomited in the deacon's urn?" Harper asked.

"Yes. He was barred from practice last year. Not because of the urn. As far as I know, no one has ever found out about that. Raddly published a paper revealing no differences between the bodies of baptized and unbaptized children. He drew the very unpopular conclusion that spiritual states might not affect physical bodies."