With a quick look to be sure the door to his bedroom was closed, he opened the door only slightly to see the unremarkable face of one of his spies. The spy whispered, “The woman’s headed down there, Doc.” “The procession’s coming? As we planned?” The spy nodded, scratching his head. “They’re happy with the money, Doc, but a bit confused about the detour.” “Tell them several people along the route are celebrating promotions. They should be Praisers, as they are all the time, and keep on being Praisers down five flights of stairs. When they get to the bottom, they go away. Surely they can manage that.” “Yes, sir. I’m sure they can.” Jens shut the outer door and went to knock on the inner one. “Are you ready?” When the door opened, his jaw dropped. Dezmai of the Drums stood before him, true to the picture in every detail except for the slightly flustered expression. Jens shut his mouth and offered his arm. “Lady?” Wordlessly, she took it, and they arranged themselves in readiness as the doctor murmured, “When the musicians come by, walk behind me, just as though we are part of their procession.”
