fandomtownies | The streets of Fandom, Saturday evening

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The streets of Fandom, Saturday evening

Perhaps being out and about wasn't the safest of options, but Karal needed to walk, to be out in the fresh air, and they were being cautious.

Altra paced in front of them while Karal told Evey of what had happened in Special Collections today. "And I would be just as happy to never have a need to go in there again," he finished, twining his fingers with Evey's.

[ooc: Just for one. Oh, and for another one, too.]

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"I hardly blame you," she assured him, bumping her shoulder against his. "I've only been in there the once and don't particularly want to return."

"It wouldn't be so bad if it didn't feel so...self-aware," he admitted. "Though that might be the very reason we can always find what we need."

"And why things are so difficult," she added.

"You have to earn what you've come looking for." He squeezed her hand. "If you hadn't been with me when we went in, I doubt I would have found the book."

"You might have. The library would have merely found another way to test you," she assured him.

From around the bend ahead of them, a stock, jowly man turned the corner, walking toward them with a measured step, his robes billowing slightly as he strode towards them.

As of thus far, Anthony Lilliman, Bishop of London, had not found anything interesting on this little island. He was less than impressed with their church, and far less impressed with their offerings as far as congregation.

Altra stiffened, instantly alert, and Karal straightened as he saw the man through Altra's eyes, drawing Evey to a stop.

He might be wrong, but those looked like a priest's robes, though different from the ones he was wearing, and he couldn't help wondering if someone had taken over the church now that Gabriel was gone.

Or if it was something else entirely. "Hello," he said neutrally.

It had taken her a moment, but she recognized him. "Karal," she said, keeping her voice low. "Karal, that's Lilliman."

"Peace be with you, my son," Lilliman said with a warm, fatherly smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Something about the curly-haired young woman seemed vaguely familiar, as though he had seen her in passing. It would not be difficult, considering how large his congregation was known to grow.

"Lilliman?" But even as he was asking, he was remembering, remembering what Evey had told him. Cold anger poured through him, and from him to Altra. The world was suddenly sharper and brighter, everything outlined in stark relief, as Altra's pupil's widened in response.

"Do not call me that." Altra stepped back until he was touching Karal's legs, and hissed. "You have no right to call anyone that."

He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I beg your pardon?"

"In your faith, it is what a priest calls those he serves." Karal's free hand curled and his nails dug into his palm. Even in the darkest times in Karse, one such as Lilliman would have been put to death. "And no matter what you call yourself, you are not a priest."

Lilliman's frown deepened, the lines of his face growing more severe as he rose to his full stature. "Young man, I am the Bishop of London, so appointed by the Chancellor himself. I am most certainly a priest. You must be mistaken."

"I know what you are, and the one who told me of you and your," his face twisted, anger and disgust, "your habits would not lie." He squeezed Evey's hand, tighter than he meant to. "You are a parasite, a monster, and you've betrayed your church, your office, your god, and those it is your duty to serve."

"We know, Your Grace," Evey said softly, dangerously. "We know about the girls. And about Larkhill."

At first, he was speechless.

But then, "'Whoever would love life and see good days must keep his tongue from evil and his lips from deceitful speech.' You are but children and do not know what you say -- come, children, and let us pray for forgiveness for your lies," he said, a bit shaken.

"'The darkest of demons can speak the words of the Writ, and still naught but evil drips from their tongues.'" Karal snapped the words out. "And he who does evil in the guise of good will find themselves in the darkest of hells. You are worse than a demon, for they are evil in blood and bone and have no choice in what they do." Altra hissed again, crouching low, tail lashing. "How many lives have you destroyed, how many trusts have you betrayed? Will you ask them to forgive you?"

"You know nothing, boy," Lilliman snarled, foregoing his priestly contrivances. "Watch your tongue lest someone less forgiving than I hear you."

"I am not afraid for my words to be overheard or my actions to be judged. I have never betrayed my office; I would prefer to die." He took one step forward. "I serve the Sunlord and and I am answerable to Him and to my congregation." Never mind that the word sat wrongly with him, but it was something Lilliman would understand. "I hold no authority here, but were we in my country, you would be taken, tested, and put to death."

"And were we in mine, you'd already have been shot for impertinence, pagan," he snapped. "I shall pray for your transgressions."

"I doubt your god will hear you; you abandoned Him long ago." Karal took a deep breath, forcing calmness. "I hold no authority here, but I am this island's only priest, and a priest's duty is, above all else, to protect people from dangers they cannot see." Trusting Altra to watch Lilliman, and hold him if necessary, he turned slightly towards Evey. "He cannot be allowed to remain here. If we were to remove him, do you think that would fall within that duty?"

"Yes," Evey breathed, her eyes on Lilliman and her hand already in her bag. "I took part in his death once. I'd do it again, or at least get him away."

"To kill him here and now would be murder," he said quietly. "That would make us no better than him. Altra?"

The 'cat flicked an ear back to show he was listening, but never took his eyes off Lilliman.

"If Evey agrees, Jump him back to his island. You will stay there," Karal said to Lilliman. "If you set foot off of it, if you lay hands on, if you speak to, a single Fandomite should they venture onto your island, the next place Altra will Jump you is Karse, and I will hand you over to the Son of the Sun. I have no doubt she will give you to the Flames."

Lilliman's lips curled in a sneer. "I don't like your bloody island anyway, you stupid boy. And your threats don't frighten me."

:They should scare you.: Altra grew larger as he paced towards Lilliman, eyes glowing faintly. :They should terrify you. I have seen people burn, and it takes them a long time to die.:

He stared, his eyes growing wider.

And futilely, he began to mumble prayers in Latin under his breath, fumbling for his cross.

Seeing Lilliman cling to his faith now, after everything he had done, infuriated him. Karal's voice wanted to shake, but he kept it even. "Evey?" He would not act without her agreement.

"Do it," she said softly, her eyes locked on Lilliman and a mixture of disgust and pity mingling in her features.

"Take him, Altra." There was no hesitation or doubt in his voice. "We will be watching you," he warned Lilliman. "What you do is your choice, but you have been told what the cost will be should you make the wrong one."

Altra leapt for Lilliman, paws impacting on his chest, and Jumped him away, leaving Karal standing in darkness.

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The streets of Fandom, Saturday evening

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