An Abyss of Light (The Light Trilogy) by Kathleen M. O'Neal

Ornias.” His voice lowered to a whisper as his eyes cautiously examined the shadows in the room.
    “Off-worlder? From where?”
    “I’ve been investigating for four years, Zadok, and can find almost no records about him. I’m fairly certain he was born on Palaia Station, but—”
    “Palaia?” Adrenaline flooded Zadok’s veins in a rush. “The home of the Galactic Magistrates?” The implications staggered him. A plant? A spy sent to undermine Gamant culture and religion?
    “Yes, but I’m not even positive of that. He must’ve changed his name several times and flitted around the galaxy like a firefly, because, except for a few scraps of data, he seems to have been born a few years ago when he appeared on Horeb.”
    “I see. And what happened when he arrived?”
    “Almost instantly, he plucked Adom from the streets, buying him clothing and taking care of him. He kept Adom out of sight for months, then began a massive publicity campaign announcing the arrival of the ‘Promised Mashiah.’ He set up a preaching tour all over Horeb, even hitting the small nomadic villages of the vast desert regions.”
    “Selling him, eh?”
    “Yes.”
    “It seems to have worked.”
    “Obviously,” Rathanial responded bitterly. “Now Ornias is running a campaign to destroy all the Old Believers, calling them traitors or demons sent to deceive the faithful.”
    “What if my testing reveals Tartarus as a fraud and his followers still don’t believe? Fanatics are notoriously stubborn. What do you plan on doing then?”
    Rathanial held his breath a moment before blurting, “I’ve been meaning to tell you.” He twisted his hands anxiously.
    “What?”
    “I’ve summoned Jeremiel Baruch. He’s to report to you before—”
    “Why?” Zadok sat forward so suddenly, he knocked his goblet over. Wine splashed the table, running in a stream onto the stone floor. Quickly, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and sopped it up, leaving the stained rag pushed against the wall near the candle. “Baruch has enough problems without our making demands on him! Why can’t you organize your own forces?”
    “Adom and Ornias are too powerful! We’ve got to have help!”
    “You did that without asking me?”
    Rathanial’s mouth quivered. “I thought we’d already established I couldn’t get any messages to you, Zadok. Baruch was the only one who responded to my pleas for help.”
    “I thought your order was nonviolent?”
    “Sometimes violence is the only way to salvation.”
    Zadok pursed his lips and gazed long at the stone floor. Baruch was wanted by every galactic official in the sector for his subversive activities. Rumor had it that the Magistrates had him bottled up tight in the Akiba system. He’d be risking not just himself but his entire army if he came. If the Magistrates found he’d left his troops alone, without his brilliant guidance, they’d surely attack, figuring his forces were critically weakened.
    “Your daughter,” Rathanial said hesitantly, bringing the subject back, “was in the line of Ephraim.”
    “Of course.”
    Silence hung heavy in the dry cave air. Rathanial studied his wine, waiting. When Zadok said no more, he asked darkly, “How many women from the House of Ephraim are left in Gamant civilization?”
    Still angry about Rathanial’s tugging Baruch away from his forces, he answered sharply, “My daughter, Sarah, and a sixth or seventh cousin, three times removed. There may be more, I don’t know.”
    “A cousin?”
    “Yes, I think she’s still on Horeb as a matter of fact. But I’m not—”
    “What’s her name?”
    Zadok shrugged. “I haven’t the vaguest idea. My father didn’t like that side of the family. He wouldn’t even let us write to them. ‘Savages and hoodlums,’ he called them.”
    Rathanial’s gaze darted over the room as though running every name he could think of through his head. “Could it be—”
    “Don’t even try. I wouldn’t recognize it if you