"Do you know me?" Emlyn asked, puzzled. The man's tone sounded as though he had known him for a long time.
Owen smiled. "Heh, I once came to Father Utravsky to buy healing potions. I saw you then."
"You didn't seem particularly free at the time."
Emlyn paused, then remembered the days when that damned fellow had lured him here and Father Utravsky had locked him beneath the cathedral.
His expression darkened slightly as he said:
"I was the one who brewed the potions you bought."
Noticing Emlyn's sour expression, Owen dropped the subject and went straight to the reason for his visit:
"Someone asked me to give you information on the Primordial Moon believers who came to Backlund."
Emlyn's expression changed slightly. His gaze swept over the two ordinary believers praying to the Mother Goddess on the pews, then Father Utravsky, before he said:
"Come to the back with me."
With that, he turned and strode toward the clergy lounge behind the prayer hall.
Owen smiled faintly and followed. In the clergy lounge at the back of the cathedral, Emlyn shut the door with a snap, his tone suddenly serious:
"How did you find out about this?"
Owen smiled faintly and said calmly, "Cyrin Gray. He said this was a deal you had already agreed on."
Emlyn's expression stiffened... That damned, scheming bastard was Fate from the Tarot Club?
Didn't that mean he had recognized me from the start and had only been pretending otherwise?
Damn it! I...
Emlyn's breathing grew slightly heavier. His thoughts were so tangled that, for a moment, he didn't know where to begin complaining.
Owen gave the stiff-faced Emlyn White a puzzled look and continued:
"He couldn't return to Backlund anytime soon, so he handed us the task of locating the Primordial Moon believers