He'd apparently had a quieter night than she; when he called for her to come in he was still in bed, stretched out in a way that reminded her of a large and perfectly contented cat. "Join me?" he invited.
"Uh-huh." Cortin slipped the robe off and slid under the covers, comforted by his warm strength. "I'm not sure how much help it was, but I did have a visitor last night. He asked me to tell you it was time to institute the Communion of Promise, and I got the impression he meant today."
"Good—I've been waiting for word I could. What about what you wanted to know?"
"I found out, sort of. He said I'm the Herald, 'in part'—I was too chicken to ask what he meant by that—and that I shouldn't deny what I'm being called, even if it's the Protector." Cortin shivered, huddling against his chest. "I found out a couple of other things, too. You know the Protector could be a woman? And that Pope Lucius is Shayan, and you and Sis're the Protector's version of a Pope?"
"The last I'd guessed, the rest I knew, yes."
"And that we're on our own now?"
"I thought that was getting close." Odeon kissed her, holding her snugly and stroking her back. "We need two more people, Ivan says, then we'll be in position to hold the fort till the Protector's ready to surface. I expect Betty'll be one of them, but I don't think we've met the other yet."
To her surprise, Cortin found herself becoming aroused. That didn't seem possible, much less appropriate, after her vision—but it was happening. "Mike—"
"What better way to put what you've just been through into perspective? It took a shelter party to straighten Sis and me out, but I don't think you need anything that extreme." He raised himself as if to get out of bed. "Of course, if you think otherwise …"
"I don't, even if a shelter party does sound nice." Cortin shook her head, bewildered. "Shouldn't we be getting ready for Mass, though?"