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〃…murdering Goddesses as He went。〃
〃He did harm； yes； but He could have done greater harm still if He'd known the shape of the Imajica。 He could have discovered what mystery it circled and gone there instead。〃
〃What mystery's that？〃
〃You're going back into a dangerous place； sweet Judith； and the less you know the safer you'll be。 When the time es； we will unravel these mysteries together； as sisters。 Until then take fort that the error of tire Son is also the error of the Father； and in time all errors must undo themselves and pass away。〃
〃So if they'll solve themselves；〃 Jude said； 〃why do I have to go back to the Fifth？〃
Before Uma Umagammagi could resume speaking； another voice intruded。 Particles rose between Jude and the Goddess as this other woman spoke； pricking Jude's flesh where they touched； reminding her of a state that knew ice and fire。
〃Why do you trust this woman？〃 the stranger said。
〃Because she came to us openhearted； Jokalaylau；〃 the Goddess replied。
〃How openhearted is a woman who treads dry…eyed in the place where her sister died？〃 Jokalaylau said。 〃How openhearted is a woman who es into Our presence without shame； when she has the Autarch Sartori's child in her womb？〃
〃We have no place for shame here；〃 Umagammagi said。
〃You may have no place；〃 Jokalaylau said； rising into view now。 〃I have plenty。〃
Like her sister； Jokalaylau was here in Her essential form： a more plex shape than that of Uma Umagammagi； and less pleasing to the eye； because the motions that ran in it were more hectic； Her form not so much rippling as boiling； shedding its pricking darts as it did so。
〃Shame is wholly appropriate for a woman who has lain with one of Our enemies；〃 she said。
Despite the intimidation Jude felt from the Goddess； she spoke out in her own defense。
〃It's not as simple as that；〃 she said； her courage fueled by the frustration she felt； having this intruder spoil the congress between herself and Uma Umagammagi。 〃I didn't know he was the Autarch。〃
〃Who did you imagine he was？ Or didn't you care？〃
The exchange might have escalated； but that Uma Umagammagi spoke again； her tone as serene as ever。
〃Sweet Judith；〃 she said； 〃let me speak with my sister。 She's suffered at the hands of the Unbeheld more than either Tishalulle〃 or myself； and She'll not readily forgive any flesh touched by Him or His children。 Please understand Her pain； as I hope to make Her understand yours。〃
She spoke with such delicacy that Jude now felt the shame Jokalaylau had accused her of lacking： not for the child； but for her rage。
〃I'm sorry；〃 she said。 〃That was 。。。 inappropriate。〃
〃If you'll wait on the shore；〃 said Uma Umagammagi； 〃we'll speak together again in a little while。〃
From the moment that the Goddess had talked of Jude's returning to the Fifth； she'd known this parting would e。 But she hadn't prepared herself to leave the Goddess's embrace so soon； and now that she felt gravity claiming her again； it was an agony。 There was no help for it； however。 If Uma Umagammagi knew what she suffered… and how could She not？ … She did nothing to ameliorate the hurt； but folded Her glyph back into the matrix； leaving Jude to fall like a petal from a blossom tree； lightly enough； but with a sense of separation worse than any bruising。 The forms of the women she'd passed through were still unfolding and folding below； as exquisite as ever； and the water music at the door was as soothing； but they could not salve the loss。 The melody that had sounded so joyous'when she'd entered was now elegaic； like a hymn for harvest home； thankful for the gifts bestowed but touched by fears for a colder season to e。
It was waiting on the other side of the curtain； that season。 Though the children still laughed on the shore； and the basin was still a glorious spectacle of light and motion； she had gone from the presence of a loving spirit and couldn't help but mourn。 Her tears astonished the women at the threshold； and several rose to console her； but she shook her head as they approached； and they quietly parted to let her go her way alone； down to the water。 There she sat； not daring to glance back at the temple where her fate was being decided； but gazing out over the basin。
What now？ she wondered。 If she was called back into the presence of the Goddesses to be told she wasn't fit to make any decision concerning the Reconciliation； she'd be quite happy with the judgment。 She'd leave the problem in surer hands than hers and return to the corridors around the basin； where she might after a time reinvent herself and e back into this temple as a novice； ready to learn the way to fold light。 If； on the other hand； she was simply shunned； as Jokalaylau clearly wanted； if she was driven from this miraculous place back into the wilderness outside； what would she do？ Without anyone to guide her； what knowledge did she possess to help choose between the ways ahead？ None。 Her tears dried after a time； but what came in their place was worse： a sense of desolation that could only be Hell itself； or some neighboring province； divided from the main by infernal jailers； made to punish women who had loved immoderately and who had lost perfection； for want of a little shame。
20
In his last letter to his son； written the night before he boarded a ship bound for France…his mission to spread the gospel of the Tabula Rasa across Europe…Roxborough； the scourge of Maestros； had set down the substance of a nightmare from which he'd just woken。
I dreamed that I drove in my coach through the damnable streets of Clerkenwell； he wrote； I need not name my destination。 You know it； and you know too what infamies were planned there。 As is the way in dreams； I was bereft of self…government； for though I called out many times to the driver； begging him； for my soul's sake； not to take me back to that house； my words had no power to persuade him。 As the coach turned the corner； however； and the Maestro Sartori's house came in sight； Bellamare reared up affrighted and would go no further。 She was ever my favorite bay； and I felt such a flood of gratitude towards her for refusing to carry me to that unholy step that f climbed from the coach to speak my thanks into her ear。
And lo！ as my foot touched the ground the cobbles spoke up like living things； their voices stony but raised in a hideous lamentation； and at the sound of their anguish the very bricks of the houses in that street； and the roofs and railings and chimneys； all made similar cry； their voices joined in sorrowful testament to Heaven。 I never heard a din its like； but I could not stop my ears against it； for was their pain not in some part of my making？ And I heard them say：
Lord； we are but unbaptized things and have no hopes to e into your Kingdom； but we beseech you to bring some storm down upon us and grind us into dust with your righteous thunder； that we may be scoured and destroyed and not suffer plicity with the deeds performed in our sight。
My son； I marveled at their clamor； and wept too； and was ashamed； hearing them make this appeal to the Almighty； knowing that I was a thousand times more accountable than they。 O！ how 1 wish