"If you want the perpetrators apprehended, we must have your statement," Kawaguchi answered. "Yours, I think, is the only reliable testimony as to what occurred on the Other Side during the commission of the felony."

Brother Vahan added, "You should also know, old friend, that eleven of the brethren lost their lives in the fire, and many others were badly burned." His face twisted. I thought about the stiff-necked Cardinal of Angels City and his doubts about cosmetic sorcery.

"I did not know," Erasmus whispered. His pale, thin visage twisted, too. Remembered pain? Fear? I couldn't tell.

"They warned me it would be folly of the purest ray serene to speak of what they did to me, evenassuming I was thereafter able to manifest myself, which they found unlikely. But eleven of the holy brethren - Very well, abbot. Legate: I shall speak in praise ottofly."

Legate Kawaguchi held a stylus and note tablet in his hands. I don't know where they came from; they hadn't been there an instant before. Maybe it was just the nature of virtuous reality to accommodate itself to the wills and desires of those who occupied it. Being a constable, Kawaguchi felt he needed written documentation when he questioned a witness. Since he needed it, he got it. Or maybe I'm altogether off base; I don't pretend to be a thaumaturge.

At any rate, note tablet poised, the legate asked, "What do you mean by 'they,' Erasmus?"

The individuals who tormented me on the night of the fire," the scriptorium spirit answered.

Kawaguchi scribbled a note. Then he said, "Let us take that night in chronological order, if possible. That may be the clearest method of ascertaining the facts in this matter. Is that a reasonable request?"

"For many denizens of the Other Side, beings not so bound up in Time as you humans, the answer would be no,"

Erasmus said. "But as a scriptorium spirit, concerned not only with order in my records but also with regular access to those records by the holy brethren and other researchers"- he looked toward me-"I have a dear sense of duration and sequence, yes."

"Go ahead, then." Kawaguchi poised his stylus.

Erasmus took him literally. Beginning with the monks' celebration of vespers, he began to give a minute-by-minute account of everything that had happened within range of his sensorium. At first, everything was both tedious and altogether irrelevant. If he kept up in that vein, I began to fear we'd stay in virtuous reality forever. It would certainly feel like forever.

Nigel Cholmondeley held up a hand. "Forgive me, Erasmus," he broke in, "but could you perhaps skip to that portion of the evening when you first noticed something amiss?"

"Ah." Erasmus gave Kawaguchi a why-didn't-you-say-what-you-wanted? look, then took up the tale anew: "At 12:04 in the morning, two unauthorized persons entered the scriptorium. I attempted to give the alarm, but was prevented."

Before Erasmus could answer. Brother Vahan put in, "We noted nothing out of the ordinary. Legate, as I told you on the night of the fire. That evildoers should trespass upon hallowed ground without drawing the notice of anyone within, and that they should overcome alarm spells lain down with the authority of the Holy Catholic Church… they had no small power behind them. Till the day, I would not have thought it possible."

Like any other major faith, the Catholic Church maintains that its connections with the Other Side are the most potent around (I'd say the most omnipotent, but purists like Michael Manstein and Erasmus wouldn't approve). With the powers the Church has Over There, it's not easy even for a Jew like me to disagree very loudly. Having his holy protection fail must have been a dreadful shock for Brother Vahan.

"I cannot answer the question with certainty," Erasmus said. "I know only that I was silenced, as the holy abbot has suggested, by a spell of great force."

"What flavor did it have?" I asked. "Was it some strong ancient ritual revived specially for this purpose, or did it cany the precision of modem magic?"

"Again, I cannot say," the scriptorium spirit answered. "If I may use an analogy from your Side, as well ask a mouse crushed by a boulder in a landslide whether it was granite or sandstone."

"Very well, we are to understand you were forcibly silenced and prevented from alerting the brethren,"

Kawaguchi said, trying to keep Erasmus moving in the right direction. "What transpired subsequently?"

"I was interrogated," Erasmus answered. "My questioners sought to learn what Inspector Fisher here had gleaned from our records. I tried to refuse, I tried to resist; the holy abbot had ordered me to treat the inspector in all ways as if he were one of the brethren, and I should never have betrayed (heir secrets who came into the scriptorium like - or rather, as - thieves in the night Then they began to torment me."

So much for virtuous reality. I didn't feel virtue, not after I heard that - what I felt was guilt. I didn't need to ask that disappearing serpent where the Tree of Knowledge grew; I'd already eaten of it at the Thomas Brothers monastery. And because I had, Erasmus had suffered.

Brother Vahan made a noise that said he was suffering, too. He embraced the scriptorium spirit. They dung to each other.

Whatever Legate Kawaguchi was feeling, he didn't let it interfere with his interrogation. He said, "Could you please describe for me the torments performed upon you?"

Brother Vahan angrily turned on him. "Why are you trying to force Erasmus to reexperience the torments those murderers inflicted?"

"Because their nature may provide important information on the perpetrators," Kawaguchi answered. "The particular magics utilized will be clues to the backgrounds of those who performed them. I assure you, this is standard constabulary procedure in dealing with cases involving the Other Side, Brother Vahan."

"I pray your pardon," the abbot said; he was one of the rare people I've met who didn't find his manhood threatened by backing down. 'You don't tell me how to conduct my affairs; I owe you the same courtesy."

"Erasmus?" Kawaguchi said.

The scriptorium spirit didn't look happy about recounting what had happened to him, but after a little while he nodded. "Let it be as you say. Legate, and may the truth bear out your hopes. First came fire: this would have been at 12:32, when my questioners decided I was and would remain obdurate."

"Fire wasn't reported in the monastery until after one,"

Kawaguchi said.

"Not the Fire of This Side, but that of the Other, which burns the spirit rather than the material," Erasmus replied.

"Not for nothing, I can now tell you, do so many mortals fear the pangs of hellfire, for to endure such eternally would be anguish indeed."

Kawaguchi scribbled notes. I wondered how much good they'd do him. Counting the magics that don't have fire in them somewhere is a much easier job than reckoning up those that do. And the way Erasmus talked about what had happened to him suggested the fire sprang from Christian or Muslim sources; the former, espedaBy, didn't lend itself to narrowing down the list of suspects.

The scriptorium spirit continued, "At 12:41, the invaders concluded fire was inadequate to persuade me. They resorted instead to the venom of sorcerous serpents, which coursed through my ichor and brought with it suffering different from, but not less intense than, that which the names had produced."

"Snakes, you say?" Kawaguchi repeated with a now - we'regetting - somewhere air. "And of what nature were they?"

"With all respect. Legate, I must remind you that I am a scriptorium spirit at a monastery, not a herpetologistfs establishment," Erasmus answered in a dignified voice. "I can state with authority that they were dissimilar to the one inhabiting the garden here, for which claim I have Scriptural authority behind me. Past that, fools may rush in but, while I am no angel, I tear to tread."