I nodded and laid the card down.

Steadily I slid card after card into the long columns of suits and numbers. At last I had only two cards left, and neither of them could be placed.

"You could trade them for others in the deck," Harper offered.

"Advising me to cheat against myself, Captain?"

"I'm told it's common practice." He took a last drag of his cigarette and then crushed it out against the newspaper. The smell of singed newsprint and tobacco curled through the air.

"I don't feel like it today." I folded the two cards and set them down.

"Was that a bottle of wine I noticed when I came in?" Harper asked as I shuffled the cards back into a single deck.

"The finest from Hells Below," I said. "Would you like some?"

"I believe I would." Harper smiled briefly. He looked good smiling. It brushed away the fine lines of exhaustion and overwork that had become etched into the corners of his eyes.

I got up, opened the bottle, and handed it to Harper.

"No glass?" he asked.

"They were all smashed. I still haven't gotten any new ones. How about a bowl?" I offered, thinking it might amuse him.

"The bottle's fine."

I sat back down and watched Harper carefully lift the bottle with his left hand. The motion looked surprisingly natural. He pushed the bottle aside after he had taken a long drink.

"Did you find Edward?" he asked.

"Yes. He's fine. So is your sister."

"They still haven't run into each other?"

"They have." I shoved the cork back into the neck of the wine bottle to stop its thick odor from crawling out into the room.

"And?" Harper prompted.

"And your brother-in-law has to be some kind of saint. He's started working with Good Commons. Your sister and he seem to have patched things up. They're both doing quite well."

"That's good." Harper nodded.

"The wine is from Sariel. A token of his thanks."

Harper nodded and I continued shuffling my cards. Harper leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. I played another game of solitaire and left him alone. Sooner or later he would tell me what I already knew from reading through the papers. I could have cut him short and brought it up myself, but there was no point. I was as willing as he was to let it wait.

I enjoyed simply sitting with him. It felt easy and comfortable.

"Belimai," he said at last.

"Yes?" I glanced over to him. His eyes were still closed, his head tilted slightly as if he were almost falling asleep.

"Did the paper say anything else about me?"

"Aside from how courageously you served the cause of Justice, and what a nice profile you had?"

"Yes, aside from that." Harper's voice was serious, but his body remained limp in the chair.

"It mentioned that you might be offered a position as an abbot, possibly at the Covenant Inquisition House." I looked down at my cards.

"I have."

"Oh. Well, congratulations again." I stopped playing with the cards. Covenant Abbey was far from Hells Below and far from me. Harper could hardly be abbot there and still be seen in my company, or the company of any Prodigal.

I realized that the last business Harper had to deal with would be me.

"So, when will you be going?" I asked.

"I didn't accept it," Harper said.

"You didn't?"

I was so prepared for another answer that it took me a moment to understand what I had heard.

"No, I tendered my resignation."

"You what?"

"I resigned." Harper opened his eyes and looked at me. "I'm as done with the Inquisition as Abbot Greeley is."

"Why?" I stared at Harper. He didn't say anything. For several moments he continued gazing at me, then turned and uncorked the wine bottle. He took another deep drink, then picked up the cork with his right hand and carefully pushed it back into the bottle.

"If you don't want to tell me, then never mind," I told him as the silence began to stretch on. I dealt myself another hand of cards. They were a worthless mix of deuces, jacks, and fours. I scowled at the cards and then folded them down onto the tabletop.

"You know Brandson didn't hire on to a ship and escape, don't you?" Harper said.

"I just assumed you killed him. Why?" I asked.

Harper glanced down at his scarred palm and then looked at the wine bottle. After a moment he shifted his attention back to me.

"Does it bother you that I killed two men and falsified evidence, just to see Abbot Greeley publicly executed? Just to satisfy my need for revenge?"

It didn't bother me in the least, but I could see that it did disturb Harper.

"The abbot had committed more than enough crimes to deserve what he got. I think the same could be said for Lord Cedric and Captain Brandson. We both know that there was no other way they would be punished," I told Harper.

"Brandson was just an idiot." Harper sipped a little more wine.

"Harper," I said, "he deserved it. I can't believe you think he didn't."

"I know he deserved it," Harper replied calmly.

"Then what is this all about?" I demanded.

Harper smiled slightly.

"I'm telling you why I resigned," he said.

"Oh." I shuffled the cards again. "So, why?"

"I knew Abbot Greeley had been protecting Lord Cedric because the man was a friend of his, but it never struck me until today that I might have done the same thing. It was the same with Scott-Beck. Abbot Greeley protected and helped him because the man was a friend of his."

"He was a bastard. They all were," I said. It was still too easy to remember Scott-Beck's pleased face as he leaned over me, cutting my body open.

"Yes, but they thought they were right in doing what they did-"

"They weren't," I stated flatly.

"Let me finish, will you?" Harper asked.

"All right, fine. Go on. They thought they were right..."

"Just like I believe I am right—"

"But you are right," I put in quickly.

"Belimai."

"Fine, go on. I won't interrupt anymore." I leaned back in the chair and crossed my arms over my chest.

"All I'm saying is that I realized that I had the same potential to willfully break the law that the abbot did." Harper took a quick drink of wine. "Let's face it, Belimai: I'm not much of a priest to begin with, and when it comes to being an Inquisitor. . .Well, the letter of the law isn't my strong point. If I became an abbot, that wouldn't change. In my own way, I'd be as bad as Abbot Greeley."

"So you resigned?" I asked.

"I turned down the position as abbot because of that. I resigned because I just don't want to do this anymore. I'm tired of it." Harper shook his head.

"So, what now?" I asked

"Now? I just want to be happy. I want to enjoy my life."

"To be happy," I said suspiciously. It was such a deceptively simple-sounding thing to say. It could mean anything. "How do you plan on being happy?"

"How do you?" Harper returned the question.

"I'm not the sort to make plans," I said. "You are."

"True," Harper admitted.

"So, what is this plan of yours?" I picked up my discarded hand of cards. They were as hopeless as ever, but it gave me some-thing to do.