There was a sudden feeling of pressure, as if the air itself had become heavier; Emmis's ears ached. A golden light appeared in the crack beneath the door to the theurgist's inner chamber.

"It would seem the spell worked," Ahan remarked, startling Emmis. The guardsman was not in the habit of speaking unnecessarily, but he had volunteered this comment without any prompting at all.

"Not necessarily," Emmis said. "He made something happen, but it might not be the god he wanted."

"True." Ahan nodded.

Emmis could not think of anything more to say, so the two fell silent again, and sat waiting in Corinal's parlor – or rather, Emmis sat, and Ahan stood.

The strange pressure in the air persisted, as did the glow, though odd shadows sometimes moved in the golden light. Emmis was not sure whether he could hear faint voices through the door, or whether he was imagining it; he certainly couldn't make out any words. He was tempted to get up and put an ear to the closed door, but Ahan's presence deterred him, and the knowledge that there was probably a god or goddess on the other side, and that the deity would know he was there, was downright intimidating. From what little Emmis knew of the attitudes of the gods he didn't think the god would mind, but there was still something disturbing about the idea.

He and Corinal had, after some dickering, settled on five silver bits for any answers Unniel could provide to the long list of questions Emmis had written, regardless of how many that might be, so long as it was three or more. Two questions would cost four bits, and one would be just the three he had paid in advance.

Emmis would then have the option of paying Corinal to invoke another god to answer questions Unniel could not, and Corinal had therefore appended a final question to the list: "Which gods or goddesses may best be able to answer any of the questions above that you have not answered fully?"

Any other invocation would cost more; Emmis fully understood that. He patted the purse Lar had given him; he had quietly counted its contents while Corinal had been preparing to invoke Unniel, and knew that it held three rounds of gold. That ought to be enough for almost any god in the pantheon.

And they might need almost any god in the pantheon; Emmis had let himself be carried away by the opportunity, and had asked questions about assassins, Annis, Hagai, Neyam, Morkai, the Empire of Vond, Vond the Warlock, Lar, Lumeth of the Towers, Ashthasa, warlockry, warlocks, Lord Ildirin, Azradelle the Tomboy, Gita, his luggage, swords, cookery, kitchen supplies – he had never consulted a theurgist before and might never have the chance to consult one again, so he had gone a little overboard.

He wondered what Corinal thought of some of those questions; Emmis wondered just how much of a fool he had made of himself. He stared at the closed door, trying to imagine what was on the other side. What did Unniel look like? The traditional idols always showed goddesses as beautiful women, usually tall and thin and inhumanly perfect, but otherwise human in appearance. Was that right, though? He had heard that it was not, that goddesses were hard to look at, hard to see clearly; they were somehow both there and not there at the same time. The painters and sculptors had no way to represent them accurately, so they did their best to depict what they could see.

If he flung open that door, what would he see? A tall, glowing woman, or something else entirely? Why did the gods never appear in public? Why did theurgists work behind closed doors?

He should have put those questions on the list, he decided, with a wry grimace.

He realized, suddenly, that he did not know how long he had been staring at the closed door; something strange had happened to his sense of time. He turned and glanced at the curtained windows, and saw that no daylight was visible through them.

The voices he hadn't been sure he was hearing had stopped, and the pressure in the air was lessening; his ears were ringing.

Then the golden glow vanished, and he heard footsteps. He rose from his seat.

The door opened to reveal Corinal silhouetted in perfectly ordinary lamplight. He stepped out into the parlor, smiling wearily. A trickle of blood was seeping from one nostril into his beard; he held the book where Emmis had written his questions in one hand, and a sheaf of paper or parchment in the other.

"Well, that was interesting!" he said, a little too loudly. "I have never before had Unniel's company for so long. She found your list of questions rather challenging, I think." His voice cracked a little on the final phrase.

"Are you all right?" Emmis asked, suddenly concerned for the old man.

"Oh, I'll be fine," Corinal said, waving him away. "Let us just say that the presence of the divine can be wearing on us mere mortals."

Suddenly feeling guilty that he had apparently endangered the theurgist's health, and perhaps his life, for a few bits in silver, Emmis said, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"You can step aside and let me sit down, my boy. I've been chatting with Unniel for fifty-odd years now, ever since I was an apprentice; I've nothing to fear from her." He grimaced. "However, I normally only speak with her for a few minutes at a time, no more than a quarter of an hour, while you, sir, with your infernal list, kept her occupied and in my study for half the afternoon."

"I'm sorry…"

"Don't be," Corinal interrupted, as he settled onto a chair. "It was most instructive!" He dropped the book on a table and lifted his sheaf of paper. "Let me tell you some of what she said, though I won't promise this is in any particular order."

Emmis glanced at Ahan. "Couldn't I read it, perhaps?"

Corinal shook his head. "I scribbled it down as quickly as I could, and I doubt you could read it. My handwriting is not one of my more impressive accomplishments." He lifted the papers. "Your doorway shrine is, as I suspected, an idol of Piskor the Generous; as long as that house is under her protection, no one within its walls shall starve, and all drinking water therein shall be pure and wholesome. To maintain her blessing you should place a copper bit in the bowl at least once a year; if it's stolen, that's fine, the goddess will consider it well spent. Should the goddess intervene directly on your behalf, extending your food supplies or cleansing your water of disease, you may be called upon, through dreams or other divine messages, to perform certain minor services on her behalf for the poor and unfortunate of the city – distributing food in the Hundred-Foot Field, perhaps. Nothing too onerous. You do not want to shirk these duties, should you be summoned; not only will Piskor's protections be withdrawn, but you will find your neighbors becoming hostile."

"Thank you," Emmis said.

Corinal glanced at his papers.

"Hagai of Lumeth was able to locate Lar Samber's son at any time, and in fact can still locate Lar at any time, by means of a blessing bestowed upon him by the god Aibem. It would seem this Hagai is a moderately-accomplished theurgist himself, though I flatter myself that I'm his better at the art. At any rate, as long as the blessing lasts Hagai can see an unnatural glow in the sky above Lar, no matter how near or far he might be, and he can simply follow this glow to locate our dear Vondish ambassador, at any time of day or night."

"I… he can do that?" Emmis asked.

"So it would seem. It's a good stunt, really; I've never encountered it before. I suspect someone in the Small Kingdoms only recently stumbled upon the idea." He cleared his throat. "On all your questions concerning Azradelle of Shiphaven, Unniel refers you to the goddess Mazhom. Since Mazhom is the goddess of courtship, I think you can guess what the tenor of those answers is likely to be."