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  The loolie flew away but I couldn’t help thinking that we’d had yet another close call. I was beginning to feel extremely nervous here. We needed to get down to business and get away from this temple that sat in the middle of a lake of acid.

  “Thank you so much for having us,” I said. “But unfortunately we’re pressed for time. Can you lead us to the guard who was warding Teeny Kiv’orop?”

  “In time, in time. But I’m sure you don’t wish to question her until you have some of your truth-telling drink. Yes?”

  The ancient Reverend Mother pressed a button on the table, which was made of some pale purple wood. There was a small click and a tray rose up from the center of it. On it was a teapot-looking thing made of pale blue porcelain and painted all over with pink and purple and green flowers. The pot had two spouts and two buttons—one gold and one silver. Fragrant steam curled from both. There were two pale blue handless cups to match the pot.

  “Oh…uh…” I wasn’t sure what to say but the old woman was already pouring both me and Grav a cup of the steaming liquid. She pushed the gold button on the pot and a stream of pale blue liquid came from the first spout to half-fill the handless cup she was holding out. When she pushed the silver button beside it, pale pink liquid which looked disturbingly like the acid water of the lake outside, filled the cup the rest of the way.

  I would have expected the two liquids to mix together and make purple but they didn’t—they sat on top of each other in layers and refused to combine. It was almost as if oil and water had been poured into a glass.

  “I had the truth herb specially imported when I heard the two of you were coming,” the Reverend Mother said, handing the steaming cup to me and then pouring a second one for Grav. “A small enough courtesy to extend to acolytes who come to us from across the galaxy.”

  “Um, thank you.” I looked at the strange two-part steaming liquid, not sure what it would do to me to drink it. Was it some kind of poison for anyone but the real Acolyte of Naama? Or maybe some kind of mind-altering drug?

  But then again, what real choice did we have? I thought of the skull floating in the lake of acid. I’d rather have a bad trip from drinking truth-tea than wind up in pieces in the lake. Grav and I exchanged another glance and then I carefully brought the steaming cup to my lips and sipped the top layer, which was the pink liquid.

  It wasn’t anything like the yarex Magda had served me on Sincon station. That had reminded me of jasmine tea with a hint of exotic alien fruit thrown in. The truth-herb liquid also had a familiar flavor but I couldn’t think what it was. Salty, bland and somehow tomato-y. What was that taste? It was right on the tip of my tongue—something from my childhood…

  “Spaghetti-os!” I exclaimed, taking another sip.

  “I’m sorry, what my dear?” The Reverend Mother looked at me frowning and Grav raised an eyebrow too.

  “Oh, uh, forgive me.” I bowed my head, trying to think how to explain away my words. “That’s just an expression of, um, appreciation. It means wonderful. Or perfect. You made the truth-drink so perfectly, I just had to say it.”

  “Oh, well thank you very much. Spaghetti-os, indeed.” The old lady nodded her head, looking pleased. “I tried but I wasn’t certain if I had the proportions quite right.”

  “They seem right to me,” I said, taking another sip.

  “I’m glad.” She smiled. “You know, I would have drunk some and interviewed the guard myself—she is quite stubborn and refuses to speak the truth to any of us here at the Temple—so it would have come in handy. But I was afraid of ill-effects of overdosing, as I have no partner.”

  “Ill-effects?” I looked at her uncertainly. “Overdosing?”

  “Well, certainly. I know that when the truth-drink is prepared correctly, it aids your powers of perception. But if it’s made too strong, the effects can be more, well, let’s say pronounced.”

  “How do you mean?” I said, taking the small cup from my lips as Grav did the same. “I mean, what have you heard?”

  “Well, instead of just helping you tell if the person you’re questioning is telling the truth, it can act as an agent of emotional and physiological exchange.”

  “What?” I asked, beginning to feel sick. What was she talking about?

  “Well, yes—if it’s too strong you don’t just perceive if the person you’re questioning is being truthful, you actually start to feel the sensations and emotions of everyone around you—especially those of the person who imbibes the herb with you. Isn’t that right?” She peered at me sharply. “I had one of the minor priestesses do some research for me and she said that was how it worked. I’d assume you two would know of the inherent dangers of a drink you use every day.”

  “Oh, of course, that’s right,” Grav said quickly, covering for me. “The truth-drink can have some, uh, unforeseen side-effects if you make it incorrectly.”

  “But that isn’t the case here,” I said, picking up the ball and running with it. “You’ve prepared it perfectly your, uh, Reverence.”

  I took another sip, hoping I was telling the truth. What would I do if Grav and I started feeling each other’s emotions? I tried to tell if I was feeling any different but so far I wasn’t feeling anything but scared and anxious and I’d been having those emotions since the minute we walked in the Temple door.

  “Yes, it’s fuckin’ perfect,” Grav echoed me. “Uh, I mean exactly perfect.”

  “Well, Spaghetti-os! I’m so glad I got it right.” The Reverend Mother smiled at us. “You know, I really like that expression—I think I’m going to use it from now on when things go just right.”

  I had to bite back a snort of hysterical laughter that tried to escape my lips.

  “Spaghetti-os,” I echoed, lifting my cup to her in a kind of toast.

  “Spaghetti-os,” Grav rumbled and lifted his cup as well.

  The Reverend Mother looked pleased. “Now finish it up and we’ll go to the detention center of the temple. That’s where the guard who was warding young Teeny is being held.”

  She was watching us intently so Grav and I had to do as she said. I finished the pink, Spaghetti-os tasting layer of liquid and started on the pale blue one.

  It tasted like hot, melted, salty liquorish.

  I nearly gagged on the flavor—I hate black liquorish and adding salt on top of it made it truly barf-worthy, as Zoe would say. Somehow, though, I managed to keep it down and swallow the last few drops.

  I set the cup down with a shudder just as Grav did the same thing. I still didn’t feel any different so hopefully the truth-drink hadn’t had an adverse effect. Maybe my lie was right and the Reverend Mother had prepared the drink correctly.

  I sure hoped so, anyway.

  We sat there for a moment in silence until I realized the Reverend Mother was waiting for us—or for me—to say something.

  “Ah, I feel the truth-drink working,” I said, trying to look mystical and wise. “Reverend Mother, I think we should go at once to interview this guard while the drink is in full effect.”

  “Of course, my dear.” She rose with surprising agility for such an old lady and nodded at us. “Come right this way.”

  Grav

  The prison wing of the Temple wasn’t nearly as nice as the rest of the big building. There were no painted ceilings or marble pillars here—just bare cells with nothing but a straw mattress in one corner.

  Most of the cells were empty but a few held heretics, thieves, and blasphemers awaiting trial. None of them were male though—according to the Reverend Mother, if a male was caught trespassing on the holy ground of the Temple of the Goddess, he was cast summarily into the lake without so much as a by-your-leave.

  Which was really fucking reassuring. Especially since I could swear I felt the cylinder of the image generator shifting around against my hip bone.

  Just stay in place, I thought at it, as though it would do any good. Just a little while longer, you little fucker�€