When he did, his expression frightened her almost as much as his weakness had. Granted that no one could face Shayan and come out of it unchanged, Odeon looked … haunted. "Dave told us about it," she said softly. "So you don't need to talk about it unless you want to."
Odeon sat up, putting his arms around his knees, looking away from her. "I don't want to—but you deserve to know that I may not be much good to you any more. I … I don't think I could go through that again—I don't see how you and Sis can even consider facing him."
Cortin sat beside him, resting her hand on his shoulder. She'd suffered the most physical damage, but it was obvious from Sis' and Mike's reactions that she'd been spared Shannon/Shayan's worst torment: he'd kept out of her mind! There was therapy, good therapy, for physical rape; she didn't know of any at all for mental rape. They'd do what they could for him, that went without saying, but she could only hope that'd be enough. "We'll help you, Mike, all of us. And the Protector loaned me some of His power to bring you out of the shock he sent you into. Just remember what you told me: God will test us to our utmost limits, but not beyond them. I know words aren't a lot of help right now, but maybe the Family will be—if you feel up to it, we're gathered in the common-room. Ivan's here too; I thought he might have some ideas how to help you, and he's the one who suggested I might be able to borrow some of the Protector's power."
Odeon didn't really feel like seeing anyone, or even moving—what he did want was to crawl in a hole, pull it shut, and forget what had been done to him. But he couldn't betray Joanie that way, or the rest of the team and Family; reluctantly, he straightened and got out of bed. "Okay … I'll be out as soon as I get dressed."
"I'll stay; you're in no condition to be left alone." Cortin grimaced. "I remember how it was when I woke up a couple of times on the flight to New Denver. The medics did their best, but I'd have given anything for a familiar, friendly face. At that point I couldn't have handled anything else, and I don't suppose you can, either—but at least you've got the faces."
"Yeah." Odeon went into the bathroom, took some refuge in the routine of getting ready for a new day. Joanie was right about one thing, at least; he didn't feel able to handle much of anything, especially intimacy of any sort. He wasn't at all sure he could manage to get through his responsibilities as Team-Second and heir to High Teton, though he'd have to try. He couldn't simply shrug off his duties just because he felt like he'd been torn into contaminated shreds, however much he might prefer to. Joanie'd put him back together, at least enough to go through the motions, and he could trust God to keep providing the support he needed to carry out his priestly functions. As Shayan had said, the priest's character—or, in his case, feelings of contamination—had no effect on the validity of the Sacraments.
When he and Cortin got to the common-room, it took an effort to let himself be embraced and kissed; it was impossible to return either more than perfunctorily, and he couldn't bring himself to touch Illyanov's offered hand. Their understanding and sympathy helped, but he felt distanced, remote—as if Shayan had stolen something in the process of breaking him. He looked around at them, shook his head. "Sorry, people. God willing, I'll get over this soon—but right now the only thing that seems to have any meaning at all is that I … don't feel like I'm worthy of you. Nothing else matters."
"Which is foolishness," Chang said. "Natural, after what you have been through, but foolishness nonetheless. You will indeed get over it, as Joan and I have. Soon, as you say, if the Protector sees fit to aid you further—which would not surprise me, since He chose you as one of His first two priests."
"In the meantime," Illyanov said, "I am intrigued by this ability Shayan has given you to dissolve his compulsions. Does it apply only to those he imposed on Miss Blackfeather, I wonder, or can you dissolve any of them?"
The change of subject was a relief for Odeon. "I don't know," he said thoughtfully. "Either way makes sense. He wouldn't want me dissolving any except hers, but he probably only used one technique for all of them, since he didn't know—then—that he'd be giving anyone the ability to eliminate his tampering. We'll have to find out, when we have someone else who's been conditioned."