The widow Domijaiek contemplated her tranquilly from among the husks of characters who never lived. “Yet you are again in need of help.”
“The Myonessae. I could not—”
“You could not give up the desires of this false, material world for the God of love. However, it is not necessary to agree with everything that is done under the rule of the Prophet, and when the mattern and the diaconals tried to force you to an advancement for which you were not ready, they were also submitting to the rule of Evil. It is asked only to take steps we are prepared for.”
“Yes,” said Lalette.
“I do not know whether I can help you. Let us examine circumstance. Are you still stricken by lack of money?”
“I had not thought of it. Rodvard touches the fees of the court where he is writer. Our needs are small.”
The widow’s smile was approving. “That is an element of progress. But he receives these fees because he uses the witchery of the Blue Star, does he not?”
“Yes.”
“Then that is an element contrary to progress and very dangerous.”
Lalette looked at the floor. “I know. Everything seems to be a danger. I am so afraid of Mathurin. He keeps those guards around Rodvard, but I think they are more like jailers.”