Promotions

Five minutes later Morgana heard a knock on her door. Throwing back the deadbolt and silently turning the lock on the door handle, she stepped back, palming a small derringer behind her back. “Come in,” she called loudly.

Father Mitchell opened the door; over his shoulder Morgana could see, instead of the hotel corridor, the oak paneling of his office reflecting a warm amber glow of a chandelier. “Enter freely, and of your own will,” said Morgana, grinning slyly.

Father Mitchell turned his face Heavenward, then stepped through the door and closed it behind him. Morgana’s derringer disappeared unnoticeably to its hiding place in the holster in the small of her back. Father Mitchell approached and took her hand, grasping it warmly in his large, rough hands. “You’re looking as well as ever, Michelle, but that’s to be expected, isn’t it?” he said in his deep, bell-like voice.

Impulsively Morgana hugged him, and he responded by absently stroking her glossy black hair. “You’re looking well yourself, Father,” said Morgana as she pulled back from her embrace. “But why have you come now? Couldn’t it wait until later?”

Father Mitchell smiled gravely. “This may be more serious than you expected: there is word that the Marauders are interested in Carolyn, not to mention possibly even the Technocracy; black knights after our white pawn.” He paused a moment. “You’ve done enough already: you don’t have to do endanger yourself any further.”

“I want to see this through to the finish, Father,” replied Morgana. “Besides, I’ve no love for the Marauders or the Technocracy: if I can tweak their noses by helping the Chorus, I’ll do it.”

Father Mitchell patted her shoulder. “I only wish more of your brethren felt the same as you, Michelle. Now, shall we see about our prospective Mage? You wouldn’t happen to know where I could find her, would you?”

Morgana nodded her head. “I walked her to her room, so she should still be there. We’d better get moving, though. Dawn comes at around 5:15 here, so I’ve only got a couple of hours left tonight.”

In reply, Father Mitchell bowed slightly, then stepped aside and waved her to the door.