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door. Would he check the basement? Let’s not wait around to find out, Vincent told himself as he carefully opened the chapel door and slipped inside. Using extra care, Vincent set the door back on its hinge and backed away.
    “Whew,” he whispered, sitting back down on the cold concrete floor.
    He’d made it. Through pure good fortune, and perhaps a bit of divine help, Vincent had managed to escape his parents’ wrath. They hadn’t checked the basement when they’d gotten home, and if they did now they would find nothing out of the ordinary.
    He was home free.
    Suddenly, a bright light blazed into his eyes. Blinded, Vincent held a hand in front of his face. Through his fingers, he could just make out the form of his brother Max sitting before him, holding a flashlight. Max’s face was cold and hard, and full of Righteousness.
    “You are in very big trouble,” Max said.
    “Oh, no,” Vincent said, although “oh no” didn’t really cover it. All his brother had to do was yell, and their father would hear and come to investigate.
    “You were told to remain here until morning,” Max said, “as Penance for your lack of Faith today. Instead you escaped, and were up to Triumvirate knows what!”
    “Shh!” Vincent hissed, his mind racing. What could he possibly say to keep his brother quiet?
    “Honor thy father and mother!” Max raged at him.
    “Shh!” Vincent repeated. “What are you doing here?”
    “I was waiting for you to return,” Max said, “so I could catch you, and see how you’d escaped. Now I know, I’ll make sure Mother and Father never let it happen again.”
    “What if I told you,” Vincent said, thinking fast, “that I was on a mission for the Triumvirate?”
    “I don’t believe you,” Max said. “You’re trying to save yourself from the consequences of your sin.”
    “I am not!” Vincent lied, knowing full well that he was. “How do you think I got out of here?” He calmed himself, desperate to keep his voice down. “The Triumvirate told me the door was unhinged. I swear on my life!”
    “Go on,” Max said, his face a fraction less severe.
    He’s buying it, Vincent thought, and he went on.
    “They told me to spend my penance time in Their service to make up for today,” he said, making sure to pronounce the capital “T” on “Their.” “They wanted me to go to the park and look for devil creatures.”
    At that, Vincent felt a tiny pang of pain from the obyon. It was a warning; he’d been ordered not to talk about the elves.
    However, nobody had said anything about those tiny winged guys. They were fair game, and were about to get him out of trouble.
    “I went to the park to investigate,” Vincent went on, “and I saw a bunch of little people,” his headache increased, “with tiny wings on their backs.” The headache subsided. “When they saw me, they attacked and held me prisoner in the trees.”
    “No we didn’t!”
    Vincent jumped, then spun around. Hovering in the air behind him were the two little people he’d seen on the street sign. Their wings buzzed like dragonflies and glowed like lightning bugs.
    “He’s telling lies about us, Clara,” the male one said to the female. “Talking about us as if we were elves!”
    “How did you get in here?” Vincent asked them.
    “We followed you,” Clara said.
    “You nearly squashed us when you slammed that door,” the male said. “And now you’re telling lies! I ought to rip your head off right now.”
    “Calm down, Nod,” Clara said. “He probably doesn’t know what we are.” She looked up at Vincent. “You haven’t seen post-Epoch beings before, have you?”
    “Post what?” Vincent asked.
    “Who,” Max asked, “are you talking to?”
    “These guys,” Vincent said, moving out of the way so that Clara and Nod would be in full view.
    “What guys?” Max said.
    “Come on, they’re glowing!” Vincent said, waving a hand at the tiny creatures. “You must see something.”
    “I don’t