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DUN AND PADG SAT IN the receiving room of the Grey Duchy. Perhaps waiting had become too much for OneLove, who’d sent them to find out what was going on, in a friendly low-key fashion. The Grey Duchy did not do low-key. They did grand, esoteric, and affected, but not low-key. Padg sat playing a solitaire game of ‘rocks and sticks’.
“Do you think they’ve forgotten about us?” said Dun.
“Doubt it. We are a diplomatic mission after all.”
“I thought we’d come in our own names, to see our friend.”
“They know who we are and who sent us, the Grey Duchy don’t miss anything. It’s kind of their thing.”
“You’d think they’d give a bit more respect to a diplomatic mission then.”
“Hark at you!” said Padg, “We were just visiting friends thirty clicks ago.”
“Oh, shut up.”
“Gladly.”
Dun returned to pacing. There was a faint crunch every time he landed his right heel. He heard Padg chuckle from across the room.
“Nasty,” Padg said. “You wanna get something for that!”
Dun made a rude noise, triggering more chuckles in response, “What in the hells is keeping them?”
“Shh!” said Padg. “The pipes are listening. Sit down and stop pacing.”
“I’m too old to sit on the floor.”
“Oddly, it’s not too terrible. Very clean and slightly warm, at least under me it is. I like a pipe that delivers hot water while it’s listening.”
A noise in Dun’s throat indicated he was about to grunt, but it died where it was. The paladins, as they were rather grandly called, had returned. In tow was a noticeably quiet Fin. Two more functionaries, carrying two benches between them, came in behind the party and placed the benches about six strides apart. The functionaries left. The two paladins framed the door. Fin made his way to the middle of one bench, then said, “Sit, please.” A soft bell sounded from the interior before anyone could continue. The resonance wobbled away to nothing. “Sorry, please sit.”
Dun sat with creaking knees. Padg got himself up off the floor, then sat.
“Are you okay, Fin?” Dun asked.
“Very much. Better than okay. Far better.”
Padg stood, the paladins twitched, “Listen, I’m not being rude here, but can we talk, y’know, without your friends there?”
“Oh,” said Fin, in the tone of someone who’d not noticed being accompanied by armed guards was unusual. “Sure.” He turned his head to face the doorway, “thank you, I’ll be fine.” They clicked their heels in unison, turned and marched into the interior of the temple.
“They’re impressive,” said Padg.
“Are they?”
Dun reached over and put a hand on Fin’s knee. He didn’t even flinch. “Are you okay?
“Me?” Fin said.
What was it with Fin’s voice? Not dazed, not compelled, but what exactly? “Should we go for a walk?” Dun asked.
“Great racta stall just opened round the corner,” said Padg.
“Yes,” said Fin. “Racta. That would be nice. I can’t go too far. Devotions are soon.”
“What the hells has happened to you?” hissed Padg, when he was sure they were out of earshot of the temple. He’d pulled Fin close by his sleeve.
“Huh?” Fin wasn’t angry, just surprised.
Dun laid a hand on top of Padg’s, “Wait.” He unpeeled Padg’s digits gently from Fin’s sleeve and smoothed down the arm of his top, a rough smock, not the found-things overalls Fin habitually wore in his workshop. “Do you want to go back to your pad once we’ve got racta? See how your creations are doing without you?”
“No,” said Fin. “Not anymore.”
“Okay,” Dun barrelled on. “Tell us about, the Grey Duchy then?”
Fin was quiet for a moment as they walked towards the smell of racta, following a waist-level tape through Gantrytown. Now they were getting into the town proper, it was getting hard to hear Fin’s quiet, thoughtful tone. “It’s...”
Dun waited, facing Fin, but he didn’t pick up again. Padg was haggling for Racta behind them, then leaned over with a small plastic cup each. He put Fin’s hand round his cup and said, “It’s..?”
“Oh,” there was a smile in Fin’s voice. “It’s indescribable.”
“Helpful,” said Padg.
Dun tutted and leapt in, “So tell us about Devotions, then. What’s all that about?”
Fin slurped his racta, “It’s good.” Then with the smiling voice, “Not the Devotions, they’re good too, but I meant the racta.”
That was the most he’d said, at least the stimulants in the racta seemed to be working.
“What are you Devoting to, exactly?” asked Padg.
“To the void.”
“Okay,” said Dun. “Is that a god? A being?”
“Can we head back now?” said Fin.
“Oh sure,” said Dun.
They turned and traced the ribbon of tape back the way they’d come. Fin sighed, “It’s beyond your comprehension.” Not a trace of arrogance to his voice.
“I am a shaman,” said Dun. “I can comprehend quite a lot. Y’know, voices in the head, spiritual requirements, all that.”
“Not this,” said Fin. “I have been an artist, a maker, understanding the form of something, it’s essence, is what I do. Who I am. But not this. It is so much, too much for some. Some it drives mad. Not everyone gets Enraptured. Not everyone can.”
“‘Enraptured’?” Padg’s voice was strained.
“Able to understand?” offered Dun.
“No. I don’t think anyone can truly understand what it, they...” Fin turned away. “There are so many...” He carried on apace towards the temple.
Dun could feel Padg slow and let his pace match. They approached the wide-mouthed opening to the Grey Duchy Temple, where the receiving room was. “Follow my lead,” whispered Padg, then in a whirl had linked Fin by his arm and turned him away from the Temple. Dun, linked the other arm and whispered back, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“On we go!” said Padg cheerfully, quickening his pace and lifting Fin from the ground.
“Wait, what, no!” said Fin. “Stop!” Padg ignored him, Dun made a groan but carried on.
“GUARDS!” yelled Fin, “HELP!”
In an instant, out from the temple mouth, now a good fifty strides away sprinted two figures. From Air-sense Dun pegged them as the same weight and build as the two temple paladins, and hell could they shift. Padg broke into a run, pulling Dun to help and lift-dragging Fin along with them. Even with their head start, they were never going to outpace the temple guards who closed with terrifying pace. An arm’s reach away, one circled left and with whatever pole weapon they’d sprinted out with, flicked Padg’s feet from under him. Dun heard him land roughly on the ground on his backside but had no time to react before all he could feel was pain in his solar plexus. He was doubled over and frozen. The butt of the weapon, he hoped had been jabbed in exactly the right place, with extreme prejudice. Fin’s arm was no longer linked with his. He could hear them rushing back to the temple behind him, the guards fussing over their charge. The pain spread into Dun’s legs and they fell from under him. On his knees, he tried to turn to locate Padg’s prone form with his Air-sense. “Well, that went well,” Dun managed before he pitched onto his face and passed out.
