“A name.” St. Cyprian scratched his chin. “I think I can guess which one. Did they say why?”
“Not as such, though when I balked, they pulled a gun,” Andraste said. “I think—I think they’d been preparing for it for a long time. I think maybe they had a lot invested in it.” She swallowed, and closed her eyes. “They used me. They called out, through me and something answered them. I felt it.” She touched her chest. “It wasn’t a voice, not exactly, more like a—a sick feeling, coming on me all at...