Dogma -

He saw a cage. And he was the only one still inside.

“What if,” Aldric said slowly, “I don’t do the laps?” He saw a cage

The beast did not wake.

And Father Aldric, for the first time in forty years, sneezed—loudly, freely, at no particular time at all. And the world, stubborn and beautiful and utterly indifferent, continued to spin. And Father Aldric, for the first time in

Matthias shrugged. “Then we go to bed. And in the morning, we decide which rules still matter.” “Then we go to bed

The sun rose anyway.

The silence was a held breath. Aldric’s hand drifted to his own Compendium , still crisp in his pocket after four decades. Rule 112 . The sun was gone. The sneeze had occurred after sunset. A counter-sneeze was required. But who could sneeze on command? And what if the counter-sneeze was performed with the wrong inflection? What if the soul was already unbalanced?