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He expected to feel blasphemous, unfaithful. Perhaps he thought this would obliterate his soul and his marriage with one fluid gesture. Despite all his big talk, he was sure he deserved as much.
Turtle Heart formed sermons on his skin with his hands. Beautiful, careful hands they were. They massaged away every apprehension. They dipped into his soul and molded it into something more, something far beyond all his imagining of the Other World. Something pure.
Surely this was pleasure faith if anything had ever been, Frex thought. His thoughts were disengaged from his body, floating in space above. No use getting tangled up in them now...
And when he heard Turtle Heart speak with passion about the plight of his people, a feeling of knowing came over Frex. He knew what he had to do and he knew that Turtle Heart had, indeed, saved his soul.