“But I—” began Rodvard. The Initiate held up his hand for silence:
“Doubtless you thought that your charm permitted you to read all that is in the mind. Learn, young man, that the value of this stone being founded on witchery and evil, will teach you only the thoughts that stem from the Evil god; as hatred, licentiousness, cruelty, deception, murder.”
Now Rodvard was silent (thinking swiftly that this might be true, that although he was no veteran of this jewel, it had never told him anything good about anyone).
“Where is your witch?” said one of the Initiates.
“In Dossola.”
“It will be impossible for you to return there with the case of today’s court standing against you, and the mate of your ship in our detention, by our necessary action.”
“Perhaps, in time—” began Rodvard.
“Nor can you well bring her here,” said the other Initiate. “The practice of witchery is not forbidden among us as it is by the laws of your country. But we hold it to be a sin against the God of love, and it is required that those found in witchery undergo a period of instruction in the couvertines of the Myonessae.”
(A wild wave of longing for Lalette swept across him, drowning the formless regret of leaving behind the Sons of the New Day—a new life—an empty life—“No spirit in it,” the old man had said.) Before Rodvard could think of anything to say, one of the Initiates spoke again:
“All life in this material world is a turning from one void to another, and shall be escaped only by filling the void with love. And this is the essence of Spirit.”