It was chilly in the cell. Paul leaned his head back against the wall and let the coolness flow through him. They had poisoned him six times now and used stronger poison each time. Paul figured they wanted to know who had poisoned the Arch-Bishop, but he couldn't tell them. He didn't know.
He heard Father Thom over a cell or two. The Father was quiet now, but at first time he had addressed God with a constant petition to hear him and tell him how not to offend. It had jarred Paul's nerves, and he was certain that it was jarring to God as well. When Father Thom fell silent Paul was relieved.
As he sat in the dark, Paul realized there was something wrong with him. Ever since he had drained the Cauldron for God, nothing had touched him. He felt pain and cold, he even felt pity for Father Thom, but it didn't connect to anything. It didn't matter. The pain couldn't kill him, nor the cold, nor the pity.