‘I’m sorry Acolyte,’ Krystof said over the phone, hoping none of his impatience fed into his voice, ‘I can’t take any home visits right now. I’m waiting for my parolee. Yes,’ he sighed deeply, ‘I know but it’s only be twenty minutes. I have to wait.’

 Standing in the tiny adherent break room in the north precept of the Temple of Dalleon, Krystof glowered up at the wall clock. The minute hand kept marching on, eating away at the...