"There's another one in the bed somewhere," Harper replied after swallowing the last bite.

"Fine. Leave it to me to root around in the bed, searching for bits of food." Belimai shifted through the blankets and then frowned down over the edge of the bed. "It seems to have gone missing. Hey, there's my shoe though."

"I've already eaten my fill. The shoe's all yours," Harper replied.

"Very funny." Belimai pulled the shoe out from under the bed, then sat back up beside Harper. "So what are we going to do now?" he asked.

"I don't know," Harper replied.

"Don't you?" Belimai glanced at him.

"What do you mean?"

"You know very well what I mean. It isn't like you to not have a plan in mind. I doubt that you'd even be here if you weren't planning something."

Harper kept silent.

"Harper, I almost turned myself over to the Inquisition because I didn't know what was really going on," Belimai said. "Just tell me, all right?"

"You shouldn't get involved in this," Harper said.

"I shouldn't, but I'm going to. I know myself well enough to guarantee that I won't just sit here thumbing through some cheap novel while you're being hunted down by the Inquisition. You wouldn't let me do something like that alone; why should I let you?"

Harper gazed at Belimai for several moments. His argument was absurd and exasperating, but it was also right. Had their positions been reversed, Harper would never have abandoned Belimai, not even if Belimai told him to. He wouldn't have been able to respect himself if he did such a thing. At last he sighed and stood up.

"Let's go then," he said, "I'll explain things along the way."

Belimai shot up onto his feet with a victorious smile.

"If it makes any difference," he said as he pulled on his shoes, "I lied that first morning too."

"Really?" Harper asked.

"I did know where your cap was."

Harper smiled. "I thought as much."

The full moon glowed behind the clouds like a paper  lantern hanging in the night sky. Diffused light gleamed off the wet stones of the White Chapel walls. The rain still fell, but not heavily. Harper hardly noticed it. It had been days since he had been completely dry.

At least the miserable weather kept the guards in the back kitchen near the fire. The rain disinclined them to investigate trivial noises or notice shadowy forms moving through the haze. They hunched by the bread ovens and sipped warmed cider as Harper and Belimai crept past.

The guards could afford to be a little careless. There was only one way to break into White Chapel, and that was to climb up to the wide windows at the very top of the massive structure. The rain served the guards far better than it did any intruder. Even on a dry night, the barbed bars and sheer stone offered little climbing surface. Tonight, the wet walls glistened like glass.

Harper cursed silently as his hand skidded off a smooth corner and he began to slip. He lunged forward and grasped one of the window bars. The curving barbs of iron bit into his gloves. Harper pulled himself up before the metal tore into his hand.

Harper would have preferred to go on another night, but he didn't have time to waste. He didn't want to give Abbot Greeley a chance to find Brandson or move Lord Cedric.

He hefted himself over the iron rods to another barred window and balanced his weight on the thin lip of stone above the bars. Slowly he stretched up and groped for a hold higher up on the wall. Rain spattered against his face as he squinted up at the pale stones. He ran his gloved hands across the wet surfaces. The scabbed cut in his right palm throbbed with each motion.

At last he worked his fingers between cracks in the masonry and braced his hands.

His sore arms and back strained as he pulled himself up. A sharp pain jumped through his hand as the scab on his palm broke open. A warm gush of blood soaked through his glove and his right hand slipped. Animal panic shot through him as he swung out over the empty air of the four-story fall. He clenched his left hand desperately against the edges of stone and tried to regain his hold.

Suddenly, hot fingers grasped his right wrist. Belimai lunged down from the air and pulled Harper back against the wall. Harper felt tremors of exertion shake through Belimai's arms. Harper wedged his right foot into a crack in the stonework and pushed himself up to a thin ledge.

It was nothing more than a narrow water pipe, barely wide enough for Harper to stand on, but it held his weight. Belimai simply drifted in the air in front of him.

"You should have just let me do this. I could reach those windows easily," Belimai whispered.

"You don't know the way the building is laid out. You'd be lost once you were inside," Harper whispered back. "Did you get any of the windows open?" "One, but it's narrow." "I'll manage. Where is it from here?" Belimai turned and gazed through the darkness and rain that blinded Harper. He shifted just slightly, and the air around him twisted and turned like an extension of his body, catching him as he moved. Watching him made Harper feel slightly nervous and sick. His body revolted at the mere idea of simply step-ping out into the air.

Belimai turned back to Harper. "If you can follow this pipe about four feet, there's a deep crevice where a chunk of stone has come out of the mortar. That might work for a grip. The windowsill is above that."

Harper inched his way along the pipe, pressing close to the wall. Under the soft patter of the rain he could hear the minute creeks and moans as the pipe began to fold under his weight. He kept moving until, suddenly, the constant splashes of rain stopped. He looked up into the dark shadows of the overhanging windowsill.

"Can you reach the ledge?" Belimai asked from behind him.

"Not from here. The sill juts out too far," Harper said. The pipe under his left foot suddenly crumpled. Harper shifted his weight quickly, but it would only be a matter of moments before the rest of the pipe gave also.

"You're going to have to lift me up onto the sill."

"I don't think I could lift you—"

"I'll kick off from the wall to get out past the overhang. You use my momentum to push me up." Another section of the pipe folded under Harper's feet.

"This pipe's about to snap," Harper said flatly.

"I'll get you up there." Belimai moved in close behind him.

"On three." Harper drew in a deep breath. " One. Two. Three."

It took all of his will to throw himself out into the empty sky. Instinctively, his eyes squeezed shut, as if to spare him from the sight of what he had just done. His momentum pitched him out past the overhang of the windowsill. He felt Belimai's hands against the base of his back. A hard shove drove him upward. His stomach and chest slammed suddenly against a stone surface. Harper clung to it.

For a moment he simply hung there, catching his breath and calming his racing heart. Then he squeezed through the window. Belimai followed him inside.

The room was tiny and dark. Harper reached out and felt a cool surface of porcelain and then the narrow lines of water pipes. The last time he had been in White Chapel, the new flushing toilet hadn't been fully installed. Now it seemed to be up and running, though he wasn't sure how much damage he had just done to the pipes outside.

"Do you know where we are?" Belimai sounded a little out of breath from hurling him up to the window.