ã€ŠPaladins of the Pickle Goddessã€‹


 0. Map!

    Key below the spoiler tag!

    1- The Spire

    2- The Column (open garden and memorial, currently festival grounds)

    3- City Hall

    4- Temple of Cabellus

    5- Young Ladies Boarding House (Home of Candida)

    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.6- Kingshome (second most secure prison)

    7- Temple of Andrena (ashes of)

    8- Docks

    9- Temple of Ursus (remnants of)

    10- Laundress''s Guild Headquarters

    11- Lady Sylvia''s Manse

    12- Temple of Teuthida

    13- Letterboy Safehouse

    14- City Bathhouse

    15- Temple of Small Gods

    16- Harbor of the Capitol. Currently has two ships anchored on a long-term basis: one from the far west, in quarantine, and the Infamy, the high-security prison ship.

    17- Teahouse (popular with Voices of Small Gods)

    18- Lighthouse

 1. Justice

    No one told me what to do while being possessed by the spirit of a pickle goddess. Sure, I was told all about how to wear flowers in my hair properly as a girl. My Grandmother could talk for hours about the ratio of water to flour for a proper flatbread. My boss had nearly endless advice about running a business- even though I never once asked for it.

    But when it came to fighting it out with a cranky spirit, suddenly I was on my own. I stumbled back in the water, the voice shouting at me again as I doused my head in the river. It was a small river, more of a creek really- but we pretended to greatness out here. If that meant calling the little dribble we washed our britches in a river, we would endure it.

    I¡¯m not afraid of a little water, girlie! I was a thought before this world cooled enough for anything to condense!

    ¡°Stop it!¡± I said. I spit out more water. ¡°I don¡¯t even pray to you!¡± Well, maybe once in a while. Fermentation was useful. I liked a little sour cabbage on the side of my boiled potatoes. Alcohol, certainly. But the fertility side of things- no. Absolutely not.

    You are the one I¡¯ve chosen. My head rattled with a strange gonging noise. This is a gift.

    ¡°I was doing just fine until you showed up,¡± I hissed. Why couldn¡¯t it have been another god? I rather liked the horse god, with his twin axes and eyes of flame. Maybe I could have gotten a sword out of the deal.

    Another searing pain in my head, and I stumbled back to fall in the creek. I could see my laundry sprawled out on the bank, lying askew. Some of it would already be drying wrinkled. I¡¯d have to re-dampen it.

    In front of me rose a shimmering vision. She had two sets of stag¡¯s horns, branching out so high I could barely make out the sun behind her. She wore a crown of flowers and live bees, ever-crawling. In one hand was a jar of mead. In another was a staff. She was incomprehensible. She was the goddess of fertility. The goddess of fermentation.

    The goddess of pickles. Andrena.

    I turned and spat more creek water out of my mouth. ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t do house calls?¡±

    She was famously also a goddess of the hearth. The home. As in, not the creek I was ankle-deep in, a good five minutes walk away from my village and a much longer distance from the palace of the gods, deep in the core of the earth. I was fairly certain she was married, or at least had a child somewhere- someone she ought to be minding.

    The inter-relations of the gods got a bit fuzzy to me, I had to admit. It was all a bit incestuous.

    I have need of a mortal instrument, she said. Her mouth still didn¡¯t move. Her voice echoed strangely, buzzing through my skull, rattling my teeth. I couldn¡¯t help but shudder. It might have been the temperature of the water. I couldn¡¯t tell if I was afraid or just going into shock.

    ¡°Find someone else,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m busy tonight.¡± Arguably not true. I needed to hang up the clothing to dry. After that, my schedule was open. The inn didn¡¯t serve anyone on Ebbelsdays, so I had the time blissfully to myself. I¡¯d been hoping to lose myself in a drunk haze at the local pub once darkness fell- although after this exchange I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d be consuming anything fermented for a long while.

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    The shimmering vision of the goddess blinked. I got the impression she had to think to do it, an intentional act. You jest.

    ¡°You clearly found the wrong person. I¡¯m just a half-rate cook that only goes to temple on holidays.¡±

    If you choose to reject my mercy, you will surely die.

    I scrabbled to my feet, stunned into silence, and checked behind my shoulder for anyone else who might be in blasting radius. I had let my mouth run off with me again. Andrena was supposed to be a nurturing goddess, the one that kept the home. I hadn¡¯t expected her to actually kill me outright.

    ¡°I, uh-¡± I bowed. My wet hair slipped over my shoulder. ¡°I apologize for my impertinence.¡±

    A spectral bee spun its lazy way across my vision. It bobbled up, down, before landing upon my nose. I had the strongest urge to sneeze. I held it in. I didn¡¯t rise from my bow. Now you¡¯ve done it, Elysia. Finally made it past thirty just to mouth off and get smited. Maybe my Ma hadn¡¯t meant this when she¡¯d said I¡¯d go down in flames, but it certainly seemed accurate about now.

    Earlier today, you consumed a pickle.

    I looked up in surprise. The bee flew off my nose, leaving a little trickle of astral dust behind. ¡°¡­.Yes?¡± It hadn¡¯t been a very good pickle. I¡¯d been testing it for done-ness after a week or so of fermentation, but something had gone wrong in the initial boil. No snap; not enough dill. And that idiot apprentice my boss had foisted on me had added sugar instead of salt. Who ate sweet pickles?

    It was done badly, the goddess said. Not your work, I think, she added. I tried to maintain my haughty air of earned rage, but I couldn¡¯t help but let the edge of my mouth quirk up at that. I did make good pickles. There was something else growing in the batch, she intoned. If I do not bless you, you will die by the end of the week.

    ¡°No.¡± I felt the back of my neck chilling, and it wasn¡¯t from the wind rolling through. ¡°I checked the top. There was no film, no fuzziness. It smelled right.¡± But it hadn¡¯t tasted right, had it? And the barest amount of light had come through a crack in the boards I set up in the basement. I ran a hand over my face. ¡°None of the others ate it?¡±

    I¡¯d re-closed the jar. It had only been an early test. But if Duran took a bite to see his progress for himself¡­ Not likely. He wouldn¡¯t walk on his own if someone else could manage it for him.

    No one else. Only you would perish.

    And the visitors of the inn would suffer sub-par pickles in perpetuity¡­ or at least until my boss sobered up enough to find a replacement for me. I swallowed. It wasn¡¯t much of a legacy.

    ¡°What exactly do you want me to do?¡±

    A mistake. As soon as I invited her in instead of barring her out, my mind was barraged by images. I fell to my knees in the creek again, cold stones bringing me back to the present even as the thoughts flashed by.

    Children running out of flames. Women cradling their bellies, weeping. A wind sweeping through, leaving nothing but blackened ruins.

    ¡°Where is that?¡± I said. I scrabbled at my head. It was throbbing.

    My central temple. The capital.

    ¡°And I was really¡­. All that you could manage?¡±

    An external investigation is needed, said the goddess. She slammed her staff down, once, twice. It twisted as if it was living wood. The bees moved and swirled upon her brow. Justice must be had. You will see it right again.

    I looked down at myself. I was a tubby thirty-five year old cook on the edge of the country- tucked away in a town not even big enough for a post office- whose sole claim to a job was making pickles which had, as of this morning, killed me. ¡°What do you mean by right again?¡±

    You will do this?

    I didn¡¯t want to die. If that meant going to the capital, and looking at some burned buildings, well¡­

    I swallowed. ¡°You don¡¯t happen to give out swords, do you?¡±

    She blinked once, eyes flaming up to burn golden-warm like mead, and then she was gone. I was left sopping wet. My mouth tasted faintly of pickles.

    ¡°Well,¡± I said. I stood up. My legs were shaking.

    I had to re-do my laundry. That was a good first step.

 2. Last Thoughts

    ¡°Not even a damned sword,¡± I muttered. My hands were already aching from the pile of laundry I was carting back to the inn. Every time I blinked, I could see the outline of her curved form. Those antlers, stretching up to scrape the edge of the sky.

    I shuddered and stomped off my boots at the edge of the door. The inn slumped over me. It wasn¡¯t much- just a pile of logs at the edge of a ramshackle town. A stray dog was curled up next to the side door I opened. I knew at the front of the building, a few of the older folks would be lighting up their pipes.

    My conversation with the goddess had gone long. The sun would be setting soon.

    I needed to hurry. If I thought too much about my task, I thought I could feel something setting wrong in my gut. Was it only my imagination? Had she really cured me?

    I shuddered again. None of this was right. I dropped my basket of laundry next to the door and left it there, taking a hard right and fumbling down the stairs to the basement as quickly as I dared. The last thing I needed was a sprained ankle.

    Below, in the little crack I¡¯d left in the boards nailed to the window, I could see my jars shimmering. Golden mead, pickled cabbage, dill pickles, spicy pickles, peppers suspended. A set of quail eggs in the corner, rotating slowly like strange eyes.

    I stifled the impulse to crush them all. She¡¯d said my work was good. That had to mean something, didn¡¯t it? Don¡¯t push it, Elysia. She was fattening you up before the slaughter.

    I ran my fingers down the row. I counted them every day, loosed the lids so they could let out any build-up of the magic that let them ferment. Now I cursed every ripple of glass I touched. One. Are you a killer? Two. Did he ruin you, too? Three.

    I pulled out the responsible jar, scowling. I held it up to the light and counted the cucumbers that floated within. I felt my heart soar in relief. He hadn¡¯t tried one, after all.

    I let my hand drop. Not that I cared. That apprentice had been useless the whole four months I¡¯d tried to teach him. He couldn¡¯t fry oatcakes, he couldn¡¯t slice a roast, and apparently his pickles were so bad they¡¯d forced me into indentured servitude. I didn¡¯t care who his father was; I¡¯d be glad to be rid of him. It was the one benefit of being forced into working for a worked-up fertility goddess.

    I tucked the jar underneath my arm and climbed the stairs, making sure to keep one hand on the railing until I was out in the sun again.

    As soon as my feet were on solid ground, I ran. A full sprint, letting the air burn my lungs. I let my legs barrel through the door, past the dog¡¯s head popping up, over through the muck until finally I let the pickle jar soar out of my hand. It fell just short of the creek, breaking into a thousand small shards.

    I leaned over, panting hard. Then, before any wildlife got any bold ideas, I walked over and kicked some dirt over those cursed cucumbers for good measure.

    Never let it be said that Elysia did things by half measures.

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    Once I was good and sure that the cucumbers were gone, I folded my arms and stared up at the sky. It was notably free of goddesses. It was starting to turn a dark blue, the sun just below the horizon. ¡°Well? Any bright ideas now?¡±

    The goddess didn¡¯t appear. It seemed she thought her purpose here was done.

    I turned on my heel and stalked back to the inn. If I was going on some great journey, I was going to have a good night of sleep first. I was too old to sleep in a cart.

    I slowed by the bar as I walked, pausing. I might as well have a drink to say goodbye to the old place. I had a few hours left of my day.

    <hr>

    I woke up the next morning with an aching gut and an aching head.

    The aching head was easily explained. I still had the jar of mead cradled in my arms, like some strange glass baby. It nestled neatly in between my breasts.

    The ache in my gut, less so. I sat up and winced. ¡°Damn you, Andrena,¡± I said.

    I paused. I couldn¡¯t tell if the ache was getting better or worse. It was roiling as though I might actually have to do something about it soon. I had thought those days were long since behind me. Surely she hadn¡¯t actually planned to kill me. ¡°I mean,¡± I said, ¡°I praise thee, Andrena, and¡­¡± What were the praises again? It had been so long since temple school. I kneaded one eye with the palm of my hand, stabbing pain going through my head. ¡°May every cheese¡¯s rind thicken in your honor?¡±

    The pain in my gut stayed the same. I decided that was enough theology for the moment and stood up. When I managed to hold my own balance, I took a shaking breath and stumbled to the washbasin I kept by the side of my bed, washing out my mouth and pulling a comb through my hair.

    It wasn¡¯t much, for a woman approaching forty. A little room at the side of an inn. No window; next to the stables. Woken up by the sound of whinnying every morning. I tugged the comb through my hair again, wincing.

    I hadn¡¯t exactly aged gracefully, either. There were definitely wrinkles forming at the edges of my mouth, where I scowled the most often.

    Still. I¡¯d done pretty well for myself, hadn¡¯t I? I had my own place to sleep. A steady job. And the goddess liked my pickles.

    The woman looking back at me in the mirror didn¡¯t look so impressed. She was on the green side of hungover. The mole on the upper side of her cheek looked less like a beauty mark and more like a witch¡¯s sigil. Her hair was paling to gray at the temples.

    I scrubbed a hand over my face and turned to grab my cloak. No time to waste on vanity. I had to quit my steady job and leave my place to sleep.

    All because Duran didn¡¯t know sugar from salt.

    I paused, watched myself in the mirror. Maybe I didn¡¯t have to leave. I could stay here. I could fry up the oatcakes. There was surely a healer in the next town over-

    The ache in my belly doubled. ¡°Fine,¡± I muttered. ¡°I¡¯ll go, I¡¯ll go. Mercy!¡±

    My clothes were still a little damp. I pulled on my three best tunics, all in a row. The top ones didn¡¯t quite button, but that was fine. I¡¯d learned from experience not to trust anything in a bag when you could keep it in your person. I grabbed breeches- useful for working in the garden- and then a set of skirts- useful for anywhere I wanted to be taken seriously.

    I shook out my cloak, straightening it. It was the nicest thing I¡¯d ever bought for myself. When I¡¯d first gotten this job, I¡¯d saved for months. It was a dark brown, nearly black, and double-lined. It had a deep hood and enough fabric to fall closed on its own.

    After so much time living life with me, it had a fair share of tatters and a brilliant red patch where I¡¯d sent my elbow through a doorway in an ill-advised brawl. I shrugged it on anyway. It was still warm.

    Then there was the question of what to put in my pockets. I contemplated the surface of my side-table. It was sparse. I scraped the few pennies I had saved away into a pocket. My eating knife went into an inner pocket of my skirts.

    I considered my last personal object. Everything else here was borrowed from the inn, meant for guests. The enameled comb, inlayed with birds and flowers. That was mine. Did I really want to travel with it again? I¡¯d risked it being stolen the first time.

    A horse whinnied outside again. I sighed. It was in danger either way. At least on the journey, I might be able to comb my hair. Into a skirt pocket it went.

 3. Carry a Big Stick

    I emerged from my rooms after a few minutes of packing, still hungover and what felt like twice as wide from all of the layers of clothing. My apprentice froze when he saw me, eyes bulging. We were the only two in the back hallway, a faint murmur of sound coming from the main inn.

    Duran was a twitchy little thing, always seeming to run somewhere even though I had yet to catch him doing any actual work.

    ¡°You missed morning service,¡± he said. ¡°I had to- had to-¡±

    ¡°Get it out,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t have all morning.¡±

    ¡°Had to try and wake Himself,¡± said Duran. ¡°And then he didn¡¯t, so I had to- well- everyone¡¯s hungry. I said you were coming along soon.¡±

    Of course. I inhaled, once. He was young. Surely he would learn soon?

    Then it dawned upon me, realization twice as good the second time. I would not be the one to teach him. It was like the sunlight breaching. I was free. ¡°Thank you, Andrena,¡± I said. I pressed a finger to my lips. ¡°May every bubble pop for you.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± His eyes were flickering back towards where I could hear the rumbling of angry diners. ¡°Please, Cook.¡±

    ¡°Do you even know my name? I¡¯ve taught you for four months. Please tell me you know my name.¡±

    He stammered. I held up a hand. ¡°Don¡¯t bother. I¡¯m quitting. I¡¯ve got business down south.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t quit. We need to feed them! I told them oatcakes were coming!¡±

    ¡°It seems that you have to make oatcakes then,¡± I said. I smiled. I was floating upon a cloud of good-will. ¡°Try to actually add oats this time. Best of luck.¡±

    He jogged after me. ¡°Please! You have to teach me your ways. How else will I make perfect oat-cakes?¡±

    ¡°Practice,¡± I said, and shut the hallway door in his face.

    The joy took me all the way up to the top of the stairs, where Himself was still snoring upon his desk. I seemed to recall quitting last night, somewhere in between the fourth and fifth jar of mead, but I decided it was better safe than sorry.

    I grabbed the nearest object I could find- a wooden toy duck- and threw it at the desk. It echoed. He came awake with a shout.

    Always a twitchy one, Durandus the First. He looked much the same as his son, if you added twenty years of heavy drinking and a beard to cover up the lack of a chin. I spoke before he fell into his haze again. ¡°Leaving. Now.¡± When he was this hungover- or maybe still drunk- it was best to keep things as short as possible.

    He gibbered. The joy suffused me again. Never again would I have to come in here, dousing him in water just for him to wake up and admit he¡¯d forgotten to go to the bank again.

    Praise Andrena.

    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s right,¡± I said. ¡°Going. Now.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t,¡± he said. ¡°Who will make the food?¡±

    ¡°The boy.¡±

    He stared at me. I shrugged loosely. It was his problem now. I was free. I was also without money, without a ride, and without a plan other than vague images of a burning temple and the threat of poisoned pickles in my gut, but I had been in worse places before.

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    If it came to that, I could probably come back and beg for a place here. I doubted he could find someone to replace me in time. I stared down at him. He was fighting to keep his eyes open.

    I left the door open on my way out. The younger Duran could deal with him.

    I took the back door out, better to avoid all of the hungry guests. By the time I was on the main road, I¡¯d decided I might as well walk. Not many merchants came through here- if I waited for a ride going in the right direction, it might take several days. I thought uneasily of the ache in my gut and increased the pace of my walking.

    The inn usually served the steady stream of pilgrims making their way up to the Temple of Dolus on foot. Apparently the stringent rules of self-regulation did not apply on the return journey, which I assumed they took getting fat on grapes while lolling about on the deck of some ship in the sun, sailing down the western coast and ignoring the wide expanse of the plains they¡¯d trekked through.

    By the time it hit mid-day, I was frustrated with Andrena for her demands of me. I was no pilgrim. I had no demands, other than survival. What did she expect of me?

    I kicked at a tree root. I¡¯d come here the normal way- in the back of a cart. To expect me to leave on foot, like some¡­ some¡­

    ¡°You really left me!¡±

    I stopped.

    When I turned, it was slow and reluctant. There, panting, hands braced on his knees, was my twiggy, hapless, apprentice Duran. He was in the middle of the road. He still wore an apron. On one hip was a sword. Slung across his back was a large staff.

    How had he managed to get a sword?

    ¡°¡­You were meant to make the oatcakes,¡± I said. Honestly, he¡¯d probably saved half of the pilgrimage by leaving.

    ¡°You¡¯re meant to teach me!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not responsible for what lies your father told you.¡±

    It was the way he stared. His eyes widened, a little. He didn¡¯t look like a begging dog so much as a lost rat. It would be a mercy to send him back home. I looked away.

    ¡°This will be good for you,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯ll be able to take over cooking.¡±

    ¡°I have to finish my apprenticeship,¡± he said. Bullish. ¡°Please.¡±

    The sound of crunching of leaves echoed. He was still walking towards me. I focused my eyes on the forest ahead and walked faster. Was this some other trick of Andrena¡¯s? I¡¯d gotten away too easily. Now she had to prove she could toy with me.

    ¡°I brought a sword,¡± he offered. ¡°And food. Besides, I can fend for myself.¡±

    Before I could tell him not to, I had to spring back. He¡¯d actually pulled out the fool sword. It gleamed with what looked like real gems. It was beautiful, with a gem on the hilt and what looked like a blade sharp enough to cut the wind. It whistled as it sang through the air before it fell through and sank into a tree root.

    I took several more steps back. Andrena probably couldn¡¯t heal sword wounds. ¡°¡­Please put that away.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been practicing!¡±

    He had been, I realized with a dawning horror. For once in his life, Duran had worked on something.

    ¡°How did you even get that?¡±

    ¡°It was in the coat closet,¡± he said. ¡°Next to some of the sacrificed cloaks.¡±

    As a part of the pilgrimage, pilgrims had to give up all of their worldly goods. I gave the sword a good looking-over. It was technically a sin upon the gods to take anything sacrificed; the Pilgrims were supposed to be able to take their items back if necessary.

    I was on a mission from a god. I figured it was probably morally acceptable.

    I wasn¡¯t going to touch it, though. Just in case.

    ¡°You really won¡¯t walk back,¡± I said.

    He shook his head. ¡°Please! I promise. I¡¯ll be a better apprentice. I¡¯ll do everything you say. I¡¯ll swear myself-¡± He¡¯d thrown himself on the ground in some sort of pious plea. Teenagers.

    I sighed. ¡°Get up. Put the sword back in the sheath.¡±

    He stood up. His face was already sunburned. We both needed hats, and a ride at that. I was going to get tired of walking very quickly. ¡°You mean you¡¯ll really take me?¡±

    I had made an agreement. Regardless of how much I regretted it.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be on your own if you start any fights,¡± I said. ¡°And you need to cover the top of that sword. It¡¯s going to attract the wrong kind of attention.¡±

    He was nodding so rapidly I thought I could see his face blurring. ¡°Anything! I¡¯ll do anything!¡±

    ¡°Not anything,¡± I said. I rubbed a hand over my face. ¡°Right. I¡¯ll take the staff, too.¡±

    I could use a weapon of my own.

    ¡°That¡¯s nice of you,¡± said Duran. ¡°It¡¯s very heavy.¡±

    It was actually a nice weight, well-carved. I recognized it immediately; it usually hung over the bar, a warning to patrons not to over-imbibe. I hefted it twice before turning back to the path alongside the main road.

    ¡°Come on,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯re losing light.¡±

    Duran fell in line easily enough. We made it halfway to the next town before he started practicing with the sword again.

 4. Half Rotten

    ¡°Ho there!¡±

    It was an older voice. I stopped and turned. I was in the thicket of trees, just off the path. My cloak helped me blend in, although my cursing probably hadn¡¯t helped. Self-conscious, I swallowed, moving closer to the path. Duran was behind me, about as subtle as a strike of lightning in the middle of day. At the voice, he¡¯d at least put the sword back away. His arm had to be sore by now; we¡¯d been walking for hours.

    ¡°Aye?¡±

    ¡°Where are you headed?¡± an old woman asked. Her hat was wide. Her eyes were kind. She could have been my mother, in a more straightforward life. She leaned forward and smiled. The mule in front of her rolled its head, flicking its ears.

    It was a cart rolling heavy with late-season pumpkins. Some were already rotting. A bee rolled lazily upon the breeze, landing upon one of the vines. If this is you, Andrena, thanks. But next time, try to get some fresher produce.

    ¡°The capital,¡± I said. ¡°But I¡¯ll take anything as near as the next town.¡±

    ¡°Hop on!¡±

    Duran and I piled on, sitting in between rotting pumpkins. The countryside rolled away under my watch, the cart wheels uneven.

    For the first time, I let myself relax. I¡¯d come up north this way, a decade ago. It felt right to be leaving the same way. Even if there was significantly more rotten produce this time.

    She let us off at the main temple.

    ¡°Sorry, love,¡± said the woman. ¡°Got to be going to market. You¡¯ve got a better chance to find someone else here.¡±

    I didn¡¯t like being called love- I was far too old for that, and smelled entirely too much of rotten pumpkin- but she¡¯d saved me from walking, so I would take it. Behind me, Duran was trying to swipe off pulp from the back of his tunic. His attempts were useless. It was already dry.

    ¡°Right,¡± I said. ¡°Look sharp.¡±

    Duran hadn¡¯t looked sharp in his life, but he did move a little bit more towards vertical.

    We were in the capital of our province, which meant they had two pubs instead of one, and a temple instead of a clearing with shrines that everyone made an honest effort to clear the snow out of on holy days in the winter and raked the leaves out of in the fall. Now I frowned at it and wondered if it was worth going in.

    The sun was beginning to set. No one would be leaving at this time of night; out on these rural roads, there was little risk of banditry but a high risk of wolves. Besides, horses had to sleep too.

    I could go straight to an inn and bed down. That was what the younger version of me would have done, just look for whatever corner I could tuck away in.

    This time, I was on a holy mission.

    Should I¡­ pray?

    ¡°I heard they have mosaics here!¡± said Duran. He hadn¡¯t covered the handle of his sword yet. ¡°Are we going in? I heard they installed a new shrine.¡±

    ¡°A new shrine?¡± I frowned. ¡°What, are they inventing new gods?¡±

    I could hear someone coming by, hawking food on a cart, so I pushed forward anyway. The last thing I needed was to buy fried dough balls for a teenager. I¡¯d be out of money in moments.

    The temple was nothing impressive. Like everything else up here, it was built simply out of pine, stacked up logs with anchoring stones at the base large enough that they might have simply rolled here during the last time the great beetle had shifted the world. The roof was sharply pointed in preparation for the winter snows. The symbol of a temple, the ever-lit-lamp, was greasy and un-polished. Whoever was attending this place, they probably had a second job elsewhere.

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    At this point I couldn¡¯t really be picky. Inside, it was neat and the rushes were fresh. Neatly carved wooden shrines did the bare minimum for each god. The centerpiece, the great beetle, rolled the world underneath each of his legs. It was set across from the entrance. People had left few offerings for it. What did a beetle want, anyway? My eyes glanced over a few jewels, a mound of what looked like dried dung, and a pile of loose wood.

    Interspersed throughout the room were the other gods, the flaming horse god, the twisting squid with her tentacles covered in draped jewels, most glass but some gleaming true. Whoever had done these shrines had clearly not been confident with the human face; no god was portrayed in their human form. The bear god growled across from Andrena, who had been portrayed as a beehive with a singular bee crawling into the entrance. People had left her jars of mead and pickles.

    I stopped.

    There was a symbol I didn¡¯t recognize. ¡°Who¡¯s a seagull?¡± I said.

    ¡°That¡¯s Celeres,¡± said Duran. ¡°She protects the postal service.¡±

    I stared. ¡°A seagull?¡±

    ¡°I think it¡¯s meant to be a pigeon,¡± he said. He scratched at his chin, where a couple of hairs were emerging. ¡°Ah, it¡¯s only wood.¡±

    Andrena had many and varied aspects. She possessed fertility, the home, fermentation.

    Were they just giving godhoods to anyone these days? How could we have a god for only the postal service? What did she even do? Check people¡¯s letters?

    ¡°That¡¯s truly it?¡± I said.

    ¡°Keep your voice down,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s a temple.¡±

    I stared at him. I had never before considered that Duran might actually be religiously observant.

    ¡°¡­Does she have any other aspects?¡±

    ¡°Haste,¡± he said. ¡°Truth. Messages to the dead.¡±

    Every other god had truth as an aspect. Most of them didn¡¯t care about it. I wondered why this goddess expected to last.

    Yet, for some reason, people were praying to her. Ashes littered the bottom of her statue. I stared at it for a moment more. It still looked like a seagull to me.

    I shook my head. If I wanted to understand religious practice, I would have to spend more time than a few seconds of consideration. It was simply beyond me.

    ¡°Right,¡± I said. I knelt before Andrena¡¯s shrine.

    The words didn¡¯t come to me. It had been more than a decade since I¡¯d last prayed. In fact, now that I thought about it, I¡¯d last prayed to Andrena before my wedding night.

    It made me want to laugh. She had, in a way, come through for me back then as well. Just not in the way everyone had expected her to.

    I leaned my head forward. The rushes poked against my knees. I laced my fingers together.

    ¡°Did you bring anything to offer?¡±

    ¡°Not now, Duran.¡±

    I¡¯d lost what I was going to pray about. I frowned.

    ¡°Andrena, please¡­¡±

    ¡°Because I brought some pickles,¡± he said.

    ¡°¡­.Protect us on the road,¡± I said.

    The pickles clicked down next to me.

    ¡°Maybe you should pray to Celeres about that. Unless it has something to do with your business?¡± he said. He¡¯d been constantly asking about my business. I¡¯d been consistently telling him to mind his own problems. ¡°She¡¯s more for-¡±

    ¡°Duran,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just trying to help!¡± he said. His face was actually flushed in anger. I rolled my eyes. Oh, to be a teenager. Just this morning he¡¯d been begging to join me, and now he thought he could help. I ought to send him back to join his father.

    ¡°My relationship with Andrena is private and I¡¯d rather you not stick your nose into it. If you want to make yourself useful, spend your time wrapping some fabric around that blade. We¡¯re going to get robbed otherwise.¡± It was bad enough having to be at Andrena¡¯s beck and call. It would be even worse to admit it to my teenage apprentice, who had gotten me into this mess.

    He froze. He looked from me to the pickles on the altar, then backed away. I thought I recognized the jar. Had he made a second batch of those murderous pickles?

    ¡°Fine,¡± he said, stiffly. ¡°I¡¯ll be outside.¡±

    After a moment, I heard the door of the temple open and close. I was left alone, with only the gods to watch me. I hunched down in front of the altar.

    I didn¡¯t feel guilty. Not at all. I¡¯d only been honest with him.

    I stared at the bee crawling into Andrena¡¯s hive. Should I apologize? He might be overbearing, but he was just fourteen. I¡¯d been unbearable at fourteen. At least he¡¯d been useful enough to get a sword. And the staff had been good work.

    ¡°This is your fault,¡± I told Andrena. ¡°I didn¡¯t want an apprentice.¡±

    Given she was made of wood, she didn¡¯t respond.

    I stared at the pickles. Would she be insulted?

    After a moment, I stood and left them. They were Duran¡¯s offering. I wouldn¡¯t take them back. Besides; anyone who stole from a shrine was committing a crime. They deserved whatever poisoning they got.

 5. Personally Invested

    We bunked down behind an inn. The innkeeper knew me of old; I¡¯d sold him some jam and pickles for a few years. He didn¡¯t ask me why I¡¯d left the employment of the inn up north. Certain people just had a reputation.

    He also didn¡¯t ask why I¡¯d stolen the man¡¯s son. I would have questioned the situation more, but I was tired and didn¡¯t want to press.

    Duran had wrapped the blade handle well in what looked like bandages. I didn¡¯t know where he¡¯d gotten those, either.

    He was still avoiding my eyes. The silence was uncomfortable. I should probably apologize. I¡¯d been angry at him before, but always over something related to the kitchen. This felt more un-called for, somehow.

    I couldn¡¯t make myself say it. I didn¡¯t know how to tell him why I was overly sensitive about the goddess of bees. Behind us, the stable door closed as the inn owner went back to pour more drinks.

    I coughed. ¡°The blade looks well. Good job.¡±

    He nodded. He wasn¡¯t meeting my eyes.

    ¡°You¡¯ve done well,¡± I added. ¡°Today.¡±

    He nodded again.

    ¡°If you want to return back north,¡± I said, ¡°I have some money. I could buy you some space on a cart-¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m still coming with you,¡± he said. ¡°I don¡¯t want to go back. I want to be the best cook in the country. You can try to get rid of me. Send me away! But I won¡¯t be averted.¡±

    Well, he was with the wrong cook for that. I didn¡¯t correct him, though. That sword might come in handy.

    He folded his arms, turned away from me- as if he could avoid me, we were in a stable- and stomped towards the end of the stables where the innkeeper had set up a bale of hay and a blanket.

    I watched him for a moment more, but he¡¯d curled up around the blade and closed his eyes. He was attempting to pretend sleep. His chest rose and fell in an uneven pattern.

    I decided not to press. How did anyone manage children?

    ¡°I¡¯m going south for personal reasons,¡± I said to the quiet barn. I heard him shift on the hay bale. It was loosely true. I was personally invested in not dying. ¡°I can¡¯t disclose more. Once we¡¯re south, if you want to, I can try and find you another apprenticeship.¡± I coughed. ¡°I mean, I would find Duran another apprenticeship. If he was interested in one.¡±

    There was no response from Duran. He stayed still and silent, curled around the massive sword. I watched for a moment more, wondering what exactly went through the mind of a kid like that, before I blew out the candle and curled up on my own bale of hay across the stable.

    Inns trickled away with the days. We had to go south, south, south. Why had I decided to hide away in the furthest foxhole I could find? Why couldn¡¯t I have found a tiny, horrible town just outside of the capital?

    I hid behind my glass of ale and tried to ignore the way I could tell it had been brewed improperly. You know why.

    Next to me, Duran fidgeted. He¡¯d been given his own glass of ale, but his face had screwed up as soon as it had hit his lips. His father always watered it down, even for high spenders. It was probably the strongest drink he¡¯d ever tried.

    If I was a better teacher, I would have warned him. I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He wasn¡¯t swaying yet, at least.

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    ¡°You need a room tonight?¡± Asked the bartender. We were close to the center of our great nation now, the attitudes getting snottier and the cloth turning from cotton to watered silk. I¡¯d seen a man wearing armor the other day.

    Too close for comfort. I shook my head. ¡°Mind if we bed down with the servants? I can make a mean oatcake.¡±

    He looked me over. Once upon a time, that wouldn¡¯t have worked. I noticed the way his eyes lingered on my hands. The trace of dirt, the callouses. I had grown up with oil massaged into every cuticle. The first time I¡¯d shown up in a kitchen, they¡¯d laughed me out.

    Now he gave me a short nod. ¡°Go back when you¡¯re ready, ask for Liv. She¡¯ll see what you¡¯re made of.¡±

    I didn¡¯t rush. I leaned into my barstool, let the sub-par ale wash in my mouth. I gave Andrena a half-hearted thanks. It was warm, that was the problem; it reminded me of that pickle, with no crunch, too sweet.

    I put the ale down. I wasn¡¯t thirsty anymore.

    Before I could push back my stool and go ask for Liv, the doors to the inn swung open. Outside it was half-raining, an autumn squall. The woman in the doorway wasn¡¯t sheltering herself. Next to her, a servant held an umbrella. Her clothing was all silk and velvet.

    Behind her, another servant held up her train.

    She stood in the doorway for a long moment. Her lip curled, for just a moment. I knew her face like it was my own. I had learned to do cosmetics on her eyelids. We had exchanged notes in school for seven years. Lady Sylvia.

    Next to her, a second person appeared. This one I didn¡¯t recognize. He only came up to Sylvia¡¯s shoulder, pale hair uneven and frizzing in the damp outside. The servant assigned to hold an umbrella over him must have been slow, because he leaned in to speak to his mother as the droplets of rain fell upon the velvet of his overcoat.

    He must have been around Duran¡¯s age. I recognized the shape of his face, the nose. His eyes weren¡¯t as cold as his sire¡¯s, at least. There was a note of mischief in them- although that may have been my own wishful thinking.

    ¡°I thought we were going somewhere interesting,¡± said the boy. Wishful thinking, then.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be back on the road once it dries out,¡± said Sylvia. She turned to her son before she could recognize me. ¡°Here, you¡¯ll catch something. Come inside and I¡¯ll get us a room.¡±

    Before she could step inside, I fled. Duran nearly slipped stepping off the stool, but a well-placed hand on his elbow stabilized him. I hoped he would have a good headache in the morning; that was a better teacher than any lecture from me.

    In the warmth of the kitchen, oven steaming in the humidity, Liv had her sleeves rolled up. I didn¡¯t need to ask for an introduction. I knew her at once. Everyone else was part of the chaos of the kitchen; she was a single stone in the river. Everything flowed around her.

    ¡°I said I could do the oatcakes,¡± I said.

    Her eyes dragged over me. She nodded, once. ¡°Fry one up for me,¡± she said. ¡°We¡¯ll have a snack.¡±

    Duran stared at Liv. ¡°You don¡¯t trust her?¡±

    ¡°Watch me work,¡± I said. I rolled up my sleeves, too. It had been too long since I¡¯d made an oatcake properly. ¡°You should take notes. It¡¯s been too long since I¡¯ve had you practice.¡±

    The kitchen was mostly cleared out, the bar only serving drinks this time of night. I half-expected a late order to come in from the Honorable Lady Sylvia, but it seemed that even she and her son weren¡¯t hungry at this time of night.

    Instead, I was able to fall into a comfortable rhythm of oat, flour, water. Just enough spices to make it tasty. A little applesauce to make it bloom.

    I spiraled oil into a pan, watched it crackle. As soon as I could feel the heat off of the surface, I dropped the first cake in. The crackle of the batter against the surface was the first thing that had felt right today.

    This was finally something I understood. The simplicity of an oat-cake. Filling. Uncomplicated. Warm.

    When I looked up, Duran was gone. ¡°He won¡¯t even learn about oat-cakes?¡±

    ¡°I told your apprentice to go wash dishes with mine,¡± said Liv. She smiled and leaned back against the counter-top. ¡°He was swaying. Had a little too much tonight?¡±

    ¡°They water it down up north,¡± I said. She laughed. She had a bright laugh, easy.

    ¡°That¡¯ll do it,¡± she said. She held out a hand. I deposited the oat-cake there, not worried about how it had just come off the griddle. She had a cook¡¯s hands, just like me, well-calloused.

    ¡°Mmm,¡± she said. ¡°I like the pepper. Bold.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t need to test me,¡± I said.

    ¡°Ah,¡± she said. ¡°But I did need an oat-cake.¡±

    Outside, the rain came down even harder. I could just barely see Duran out the window, hiding under an awning. If any dishes got washed, I would be surprised.

    The oatcake added to the pleasant warmth in my veins from the ale. I wasn¡¯t sure I cared. The dishes could stay dirty. I wasn¡¯t the one running this place.

    That was how I spent my thirty-sixth birthday. Eating oatcakes and laughing over incompetent apprentices with Liv. She had some tips on my pickle recipe. I swallowed my half of oatcake, circled in the warmth of the kitchen, and very carefully didn¡¯t think at all about the sound of Lady Sylvia¡¯s retinue above.

 6. The Hive

    The capital stank. It was too crowded, it had too many people, and, worst of all, it contained my mother. I was half-tempted to get back in the cart and go back to sleep. Hopefully by the time I woke I¡¯d be halfway to the southern sea, where they could throw me out and I¡¯d be taken over by the squid goddess. Maybe she¡¯d have a different mission for me, like swimming to get the Beetle God¡¯s lost elytra or stealing the stars from the sky. Something easy.

    No such luck, though. As soon as we came to the capital, Duran jumped forward and out of my reach. He had his hand on the sword, as though he might find someone to duel with on the street corner. The flower seller took a step back.

    ¡°Wow,¡± he said.

    His foot was in a pile of horse shit. I stepped out and didn¡¯t mention it to him. I sighed. It smelled of ash and offal and flowers. It was high season in the capital.

    ¡°Don¡¯t stand still too long,¡± I said. ¡°They¡¯re going to try and sell you something.¡±

    He began to talk back (why did he volunteer to be my apprentice, if he was only going to argue with me) but before he could finish speaking, I grabbed him by the elbow and began to tow him along.

    The capital was a barnacle on the great western harbor, a silted horrible thing that constantly had to be dredged out because of all the runoff. I wanted nothing to do with the harbor- I had no need for fish, imports, or returning pilgrims or tourists- so I¡¯d had us dropped off just within the northern entrance to the capital, the nearest gate.

    Northside was mostly residential and small businesses, although there were always a few vendors ready to spring upon new entrants to the city. I brought us past these leeches now, aiming for the nearest coach.

    ¡°So they¡¯re real!¡± said Duran.

    ¡°What, coaches?¡± I stuck out my hand, waving for the operator to stop for us. He did, although he stopped late with a great clanging of bells. Disrespectful. I should have used the staff. ¡°Of course they¡¯re real. Who would make up something like that?¡±

    ¡°Well, I just- it seems preposterous. A coach just to move people about, without goods on it? Without a noble on it?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just a coach,¡± I said. I stepped back to make sure he was entering correctly. This conversation was not increasing my confidence.

    ¡°Tickets?¡± said the conductor. He was wearing half of his uniform, the jacket slung over his shoulders casually. He held out a hand.

    I pulled out some of my last few coins and threw them in his hand. ¡°Will that do?¡±

    He pulled them up and sorted through. ¡°Where you going?¡±

    ¡°Temple-side.¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°This will get you across Used-to-be, can get you halfway to Always if you¡¯re going alone.¡±

    I stared over at Duran, considering. The city was organized by rivers, all of which flowed from different parts of the plains and into the harbor. The northernmost, Sometimes, was- as it said- sometimes a river, and served as a border the Northern district. Used-to-be bisected the city, splitting the Central and Uptown districts, and was a brick divot in the ground that had flooded once in living memory, to great excitement.

    Always was a wide river that meandered through the southern half of the city, splitting the rich Southern district from the Uptown district to its north. Its tributaries fed everyone- another reason I was glad to have left. I¡¯d seen a few things I would rather not swimming in that water.

    I was trying to get to the middle of the Uptown district, where the spire of the great temple watched over all of the businessmen and clerics. There, I hoped, I would find Andrena¡¯s pile of ashes.

    Also, hopefully, someone volunteering an entire confession. Perhaps offering to escort themselves to the police station.

    Was I willing to sacrifice Duran for it, though?

    I sighed. ¡°We¡¯ll go to Central,¡± I said, and handed him the money. One river was better than nothing.

    Duran and I had to crowd in alongside a set of grandmothers with a variety of weapons, a young boy holding two chickens, and a dog which seemed to have come on the coach entirely by itself. At the next stop, it got off, also entirely by itself.

    Duran watched with starry eyes. I was nursing a headache already. I was so glad I had left. I missed the quiet of the inn, where I could nurse a hangover and not have to watch a chicken attempt to fly into the roof of a stretched coach.

    Another two stops, and then the coach came to a rattling stop after we watched the trickle of a few drops of water in the bed of Used-to-Be. I stepped off, just beyond the arched bridge for pedestrians.

    ¡°Good day,¡± said the driver. He was batting away the chicken. Someone else was boarding. I stepped away as quickly as I could. Duran almost didn¡¯t make it; he had to jump off as the coach began moving.

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    ¡°That was amazing!¡± he said. His eyes shone.

    ¡°Next time,¡± I said, ¡°Follow me.¡±

    ¡°So,¡± he said. ¡°What next!¡±

    Teenager. I had to remind myself he was a teenager, and new to the city. This was all exciting, and not a trial. I took a deep breath. ¡°We¡¯re walking to the temples,¡± I said.

    ¡°For your personal business?¡±

    I should just tell him. If I told him, though, I would sound mad. I frowned.

    ¡°It¡¯s very important,¡± I said, instead. ¡°Come on.¡±

    The sun was high overhead. I could begin to see the temple spire overhead as we crossed the district, buildings getting taller and better-built. Wood changed to brick.

    The spire was built of marble. The statue of the great circle of the world held at the top of the pillar, the beetle cradling it overhead, cast a strange shadow. Below it, there should have been a set of guards and a few pilgrims waiting for entry. Instead there was a massive crowd. They chanted, held up signs and burning torches. They were shouting something about an unfair trial, about corruption.

    ¡°We aren¡¯t going to the great spire?¡± said Duran, when I turned away.

    ¡°That¡¯s not who I¡¯m here for,¡± I said. ¡°Besides, it¡¯s not for praying.¡± It was for wasting time and paperwork. I cast another irritated glance upwards. If that was what Andrena wanted from me, she had chosen poorly. I went instead to the nearest tourist I could see.

    He was holding a map upside-down. He¡¯d chosen a bad time to come see the city. It was hot, thick with rain.

    He began to speak to me, smiling.

    ¡°Hello there, madam!¡± He had a horrible accent. I ignored everything he said and took the map out of his hands.

    He began arguing with me, trying to pull his map back. Duran said something about my honored position as a chef. I ignored their conversation and scanned the map. There, pointed out in pink on the map, was a temple of Andrena.

    Perfect. I gave the map back and turned away. ¡°Come on. We¡¯re losing daylight.¡±

    ¡°You aren¡¯t going to apologize? Why did you take that man¡¯s map?¡±

    ¡°I gave it back.¡±

    Duran just stared at me. I sighed and turned back to the tourist. ¡°I apologize.¡±

    He swallowed. He looked at my staff. I realized I was holding it up in a rather threatening way. Habit had come back. I really hated the capital.

    ¡°If you wanted to go to the spire, it¡¯s to your left,¡± I said.

    ¡°They turned me away!¡± he said. ¡°Said they¡¯re closed! How can they close the spire! With all of the people trying to visit, besides!¡±

    ¡°How am I supposed to know,¡± I said. We both cast a glance towards the ever-growing crowd of protesters. A group of guards were approaching the protesters, spears-out; the protesters were using their signs to beat them back. I turned towards him.

    ¡°The city baths are nice this time of year,¡± I said. ¡°They have scented oils.¡±

    I took Duran by the arm and left before the chaos expanded to take us with it as well. The temple was down the block, a few minutes walk. I knew we were getting closer because it stank of ash and sweat.

    The buildings surrounding the temple weren¡¯t untouched. First the stone was only slightly greyed, as though the buildings had aged further than they should have. Wood was a darker brown, the knots standing out in stark relief. Passerby were holding scarves up to their mouths, scampering from place to place. The food-stands hawking fried breads and fresh fruit had slowly disappeared, leaving only the pubs behind their closed doors and the businesses, counting their money and selling their goods behind barred windows.

    Finally, behind a tall wooden building that had been shored up with a few planks and was creaking unsteadily in the wind, I saw it. All that remained of Andrena¡¯s refuge.

    A pile of ash. Like the bones of some strange creature, spikes of wood and pillars of stone stood out of the rubble. Some of them were nearly intact, glowing half-clean, while others were so dark they could have been made of night itself.

    I blinked, eyes burned by the sight, then coughed. It stank. Of ash, of something darker- like the oil that went rancid, in the back of the kitchen when I didn¡¯t clean it properly. This place had been treated badly.

    The streets had been clearing out as we approached, but now they were empty. A desecrated temple was a bad omen. The gods gone awry, casting anger upon each other. Best not to interfere, lest they pay attention to you.

    ¡°What-¡± Duran grabbed onto my cloak, as if he¡¯d gone back to all of five years old. ¡°Madam Elysia, this isn¡¯t right.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°But we have to fix it, I suppose.¡± I hiked up my skirts and stepped into the ash. ¡°Duran,¡± I said. ¡°Pull your shirt up over your nose. You¡¯ll catch a cough.¡±

    He was standing behind me, jaw open so wide he¡¯d probably inhaled half of Andrena¡¯s ashes. At my reminder, he startled and pulled his tunic up over his jaw. His reply was so muffled I couldn¡¯t make it out.

    It was slow going, through the ashes of the temple. My feet were hampered by piles and piles of ashes, of broken plates and glass. I tripped over something I thought was bone, my heart thumping in fear, before I finally leaned over and realized it was only a clay doll. Her eyes were still open in a rictus of fear.

    The muffled speech and cries of the city, the cawing of chickens and the skittering of rats, the ever-present squealing of carriage wheels and braying of horses, all had been muffled here. It was as if the walls of the temple still served as refuge, regardless of their current state. I couldn¡¯t help but shiver and pull my cloak a little tighter.

    As I did, holding in a sneeze from the ash, I heard it.

    At first it was only a small weeping. I thought it was an animal, rooting around in the ash, and darted a look over my shoulder- but Duran wasn¡¯t moving, and I couldn¡¯t see the tail of any creature.

    Then the weeping came again, and a few small words over the wind.

    ¡°How¡­..¡±

    Duran opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, and I held up a hand to stop him. My heart was racing. Could it truly be this easy? Only a few steps, and my quarry already found?

    The weeping was louder as I stepped forward, past another pillar and a half-collapsed wall. A figure was knelt before what must have been an altar.

    ¡°All my fault¡­¡± Came the voice. ¡°Should have been here earlier. Mercy, mercy.¡±

    It was a man. His voice was raspy, as though he¡¯d been here begging for hours. His form was pitiful, slumped across the slab of the temple.

    I grinned. With two large strides I crossed the main room, where once a great statue of Andrena would have supervised anyone coming to beg for her help. Now her face was streaked with ash. The man lay across her lap.

    If I¡¯d known it would be this easy, I wouldn¡¯t have resisted so much.

    ¡°Right,¡± I said. ¡°You can go to the guardsmen now, or I can make you.¡± I let my hand rest on the wooden spoon in my apron. ¡°Either works for me.¡±

    He stammered, looking up at me. I lifted the spoon.

    Finally, he managed to make his mouth form words.

    ¡°Please,¡± he said. ¡°Not the guards. The hive depends on me.¡±

 7. Goddess-Blessed Mead

    It was the look of pure desperation on his face that stopped me from using the spoon. I wasn¡¯t violent at heart- well, not that violent- and I knew, somehow, that he wouldn¡¯t fight back against a good drubbing. What kind of man wouldn¡¯t even fight off a wooden spoon?

    I grabbed him by the back of his robes and pulled him upright. He was wearing pale robes, almost like a monk¡¯s garb, although they were mostly stained dark now from the ash. His face was puffy from the tears.

    As he looked at me, he coughed. He looked about my age, perhaps a little younger.

    I raised the spoon again. ¡°You¡¯ve admitted to burning this temple down,¡± I said.

    ¡°What?¡± he said. ¡°No!¡± He pushed back at the spoon, then stood up on his own, brushing off his robes. He didn¡¯t look upset, anymore, although the tear tracks stood out on his face. He looked¡­. embarrassed?

    ¡°You said it was all your fault!¡±

    He held up his hands, as if he was going to hold off the spoon. ¡°I should have caught those¡­ scoundrels! I should have saved the temple! The horror¡­ this place should have been safe¡­¡±

    I lowered the spoon again. ¡°Oh, stop it,¡± I said. ¡°Fine.¡±

    He lowered his arms. ¡°You¡¯re not going to- turn me in?¡±

    If this man was an arsonist, I was the Goddess Andrena, and she could place me upon her flowered throne in the core of the world. ¡°Let¡¯s start at the beginning,¡± I said, and paused. I didn¡¯t like the temple. Andrena stared down at me. They had done a shockingly good job at her face. She was judging me, from that stone bust. Watching my every move. It was worse than when Durandus the First came into the kitchen and made comments about over-use of expensive spices.

    ¡°Actually,¡± I said, ¡°Is there a pub nearby you¡¯d recommend?¡±

    ¡°You want to drink?¡±

    ¡°I want to be out of this place,¡± I said. ¡°You can explain yourself over mead.¡±

    We made a strange sight, leaving that ruined temple. Duran led the way, skinny but holding the handle of his sword as if a wraith might rise from the ashes and turning his head about anxiously every few minutes. The beekeeper followed. He had pulled up his hood, seeming even-more monk-like, and walked with hunched shoulders as if shame was weighting him down.

    I brought up the rear, slamming my staff into the floorboards to test them for any hidden chambers. If I muttered a little question to Andrena- something along the lines of, Well? Anything to say? that¡¯s entirely between me and her.

    She didn¡¯t respond, anyway.

    By the time we made it to the pub, we had clumped up. It was starting to get dark, the sun low, and what was usually a nice part of town, with temples and businesses and banks, seemed to have been cluttered with guardsmen and fires on every corner, with the protesters still chanting blocks away at the bottom of the spire.

    I turned my face to the door of the pub and pushed inside. A table was still open in the corner. I grabbed one companion each by the elbow and ushered them over, shoving the beekeeper in the corner of the booth where he couldn¡¯t escape, pinning him in before waving over a bar-girl.

    Forty years ago, she must have been a looker. Now she had wrinkles even in her cleavage, and as she leaned over she wriggled all three of her eyebrows. ¡°Need anything?¡±

    ¡°Whatever mead you have,¡± I said. The beekeeper was trying to slide out of sight, hiding his face with the corner of his hood.

    ¡°What¡¯s he want?¡± she said, peering at him.

    ¡°He¡¯s got a condition,¡± I said, leaning over to obscure his face. He should have said if he didn¡¯t want to come in here. If he hadn¡¯t paid his bill, I wasn¡¯t going to cover it. I didn¡¯t have that much money on me.

    ¡°Hmmm,¡± she said. ¡°If it¡¯s catching, he¡¯d better leave.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not,¡± he said, from behind the hood.

    She stared for a moment more before turning to Duran. ¡°You?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll have the mead too,¡± he said, ¡°Or whatever you have that¡¯s strongest.¡±

    All three of her eyebrows remained unimpressed and solidly flat. ¡°A jug of mead and three glasses,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ll be back.¡±

    ¡°A condition?¡± said the beekeeper, as soon as she¡¯d bustled off towards the bar.

    ¡°You¡¯re conditionally here,¡± I said. I pinned him in as he tried to slide out of the booth from under the table. ¡°Until I decide to release you.¡±

    He looked towards Duran. Duran was no ally for him; he was staring towards the bar, where the woman was pouring out mead into a jug and speaking with a man wearing three swords.

    ¡°What do you want,¡± he said. ¡°Of all the- I don¡¯t owe you money, I don¡¯t owe you mead, and I certainly didn¡¯t burn anything down. Must you-¡± He trembled. He was taller than I was, I realized. I hadn¡¯t noticed until now because he¡¯d been slouching, in what seemed to be a misjudged attempt at survival tactics. ¡°Why do you care?¡±

    ¡°Look,¡± I said. ¡°I can¡¯t just ignore a burned temple like that. Seems to me you have answers.¡±

    The bar-maid came back with the mead, sloshing it across the table. As she did, the man pulled his hood up again. She poured out three large glasses, sliding them across, and gave me another stare before turning away.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    I sipped at the mead. It was better than the mead we got back in the country. I resolved to never admit it.

    ¡°You¡¯ve never been to that temple,¡± he said. He sounded entirely too confident. ¡°Why are you interfering in Andrena¡¯s business?¡±

    I looked between him and Duran. Being chosen by a god happened, of course, but it happened to acolytes who trained for decades, to be chosen as clerics, who then rose to be heads of their churches, to represent their god in the great spire. It didn¡¯t happen to cooks in the middle of a creek, after they might have eaten some half-rate pickles. If I admitted Andrena had chosen me, I¡¯d be admitting I was half-mad.

    I took a long drink of mead. When I set it down, I had decided on a solid lie. ¡°I was seeking Andrena¡¯s help,¡± I said. ¡°For woman¡¯s troubles. How could I abandon her, after I saw¡­ that?¡±

    They both stared at me, faces blank.

    Duran shifted sideways. He¡¯d only had a little of the mead; it was sweet, half-spiced, and much stronger than we got at the inn. ¡°Madam Elysia, what are-¡±

    Better to go with the truth, I decided. ¡°Fine,¡± I said. ¡°You want the truth? Andrena chose me as her mortal instrument. I have to find who¡¯s done this and bring them to¡­¡± I paused. ¡°Justice.¡±

    Duran actually nodded at this, relaxing. ¡°Oh! Of course.¡±

    The beekeeper had frozen. His eyes were as wide as saucers, his mead untouched. ¡°Andrena chose you?¡± he asked. He squinted, as though he was trying to see some aura of godliness around me. He probably only saw the filth from the road.

    ¡°I know,¡± I said. I took another draught of mead. ¡°Trust me. I don¡¯t want it, either. Apparently there isn¡¯t much choice when it comes to applicable mortals.¡±

    There was a rattle as cups were shoved aside. He¡¯d thrown his torso across the table. ¡°Please,¡± he said, face muffled by the solid wood. I pulled back a little. He was brave, putting his mouth anywhere near that table-top. ¡°Forgive me, Andrena. I would never-¡±

    ¡°Get up,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m not actually Andrena. She just wants me to fix the temple.¡±

    He stayed prone across the table for a few more minutes before sitting up just as suddenly, making the cups of mead slosh. ¡°You¡¯ll truly investigate the temple? You¡¯ll bring everyone to justice?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have much choice about it,¡± I said. ¡°Keep your voice down.¡± I chanced a glance over my shoulder. At least this pub was busy; most people were throwing darts, or arguing, or speaking in various corners and looking suspicious. I turned back to him, then frowned.

    ¡°Wait,¡± I said. ¡°Why do you know so much about who goes to Andrena¡¯s temple?¡± Brewers cared about Andrena, but they didn¡¯t need her refuge. That refuge was for expectant mothers and fleeing women.

    ¡°It¡¯s my home,¡± he said. Finally he reached out and took the mead in both hands, taking a long draught. ¡°Andrena is as close to a mother as I¡¯ll ever have.¡±

    The story came out in fits and starts. Apparently his mother had arrived at the temple and asked for guidance in some late stage of pregnancy. Whatever the guidance had been, it hadn¡¯t included him; he¡¯d been left behind at the temple as an infant and she¡¯d left for the northern wastes.

    The Refuge of Andrena was not, in fact, one of the temples that regularly took in orphans. There were several orphanages around the city, some dedicated to specific gods, some agnostic, and some multi-theistic, based on the theory that the more gods involved, the better luck for the children.

    The Refuge of Andrena had kept him anyway. They had named him Apis, for the bee, and considered him a sign of great luck. They had trained him in beekeeping, given him a sacred hive for his trade, and sent him off to brew mead in Andrena¡¯s name.

    It had gone well at first; Apis¡¯s mead had been a success. He had found a place to stay, and set up the bees with a small garden of flowers where they could flourish.

    ¡°My luck hasn¡¯t kept, though,¡± Apis said, and swirled his mead sadly. ¡°First the city wanted me to get a brewer¡¯s license. It¡¯s five-hundred gold for one- as if I have that much money on hand! That¡¯s a year¡¯s worth of earnings, in a good market. Then my landlord wanted me to move the bees- he said they were disturbing other residents. Then, when I went to go ask the Temple if I could stay there, and maybe get a loan¡­.¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± I said. I took another draught of the mead. Perhaps there was something to be said about a brewer¡¯s license. This stuff was delightful. ¡°Well,¡± I said. ¡°Perhaps you could work for whoever¡¯s supplying this place.¡±

    ¡°This mead is mine,¡± he said. ¡°They won¡¯t buy it again. Said they found someone in Southside.¡±

    ¡°You really made this?¡± asked Duran, who had previously kept silent. ¡°But it¡¯s better than-¡±

    I cleared my throat. ¡°Duran,¡± I said, ¡°Watch to see if they¡¯re making drinks behind the bar. You should see what spices they¡¯re using.¡± He quieted immediately. So- my mead wasn¡¯t the best in the country. That was fine. The goddess still liked my pickles.

    I took another sip of the mead. I couldn¡¯t stop liking it, even now that I knew it was from the competition. Here was a bright young man- well, hardly young, probably my age- but a man, anyway, who seemed to be a devout believer. He could brew. He was competent.

    Why not him?

    Andrena, in all of her godly wisdom, didn¡¯t deign to answer.

    ¡°Where were you when everything collapsed, then?¡± I said. ¡°Since you weren¡¯t, well¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s my greatest regret,¡± Apis said. ¡°I was here. Arguing with¡­¡± He nodded a head towards the bar, where the bar-girl was leaning over, staring towards him with squinted eyes. He leaned back into the booth, avoiding her eyes. ¡°When it all fell apart,¡± he continued. ¡°I never even got an answer to my questions. All the guards came in and broke down the place, interrupting us, searching everywhere.¡±

    ¡°An answer?¡±

    ¡°I was hoping for¡­¡± He swallowed. ¡°Well, a deal.¡± He made a vague gesture. It looked like he was begging for alms. ¡°You know, under the table. They could still buy from me, couldn¡¯t they?¡± He slid farther into the corner of the booth. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to come back so soon,¡± He added.

    He had definitely been raised by the temple. He was about as capable of subterfuge as a raging bull. I cleared my throat.

    ¡°Well,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s been good to meet you, Apis. We¡¯ll be going now.¡±

    I made to leave the booth, heading to the bar as I threw a few coppers on the table, when he grabbed out at my wrist. His grip was surprisingly strong, self-possessed. When his eyes met mine, I found myself gripped by the fire in them.

    ¡°Wait!¡± he said. ¡°Please.¡±

    ¡°We can buy more mead, if you¡¯d like,¡± I said. My cheeks felt warm. That mead had been quite good.

    ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°Let me help.¡±

    When I still pulled away, he leaned forward. He released my wrist, but I couldn¡¯t quite manage to slide out of the booth before he continued to speak.

    ¡°You¡¯ll need somewhere to stay,¡± he said. ¡°I have a guest bedroom. And I¡¯m not going to be evicted until the end of Flight¡¯s Feast.¡±

    That left us a week and a half. I swallowed. ¡°I have money,¡± I said.

    Slightly true. I had a few coppers left, after everything I¡¯d spent on his admittedly lovely mead. I¡¯d also been raised with the strong conviction that staying in a strange man¡¯s guest room was definitely to the left of acceptable.

    Someone in one of the corner tables shouted an expletive and unsheathed a sword. The man at the bar with his three swords turned, frowned, and unsheathed two. I wondered when the third would come into play.

    Outside, the sun had fallen. The bar-girl ducked behind the bar, taking a few of the bottles with her. I swallowed.

    ¡°The city¡¯s full anyway,¡± said Apis. ¡°Everyone¡¯s here to see how the Council of the Chosen votes.¡±

    I sighed. Someone went crashing towards a window, waving a dagger. We needed to leave before Duran got involved. I could see his hand twitching towards the sword. ¡°Fine,¡± I said. ¡°But any funny business, and I¡¯m leaving right away.¡±

 8. Voice of the Pickles

    One of the slightly-singed wooden buildings turned out to be Apis¡¯s home. He took a back staircase up, leading us through a doorway and up rickety steps. I could hear snoring through one door, and through another a flight up, a couple arguing. Only once we reached the top floor did he pull out a set of keys and unlock a door, iron jangling.

    Above us, there was the sound of buzzing. I glanced upwards, trying to trace it, but couldn¡¯t see the source. All I could see was the butter-pale moon, nearly full for the Flight¡¯s Feast, and the washed-out sky. In the middle of the city, there were no visible stars. I felt a sudden pang of longing for the country, separate from my anger at being in the capital at all. There was something beautiful and simple about it, removed from the chaos and fear here.

    Then I stepped inside, and I was no longer worried about such philosophies.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t say it was full of bees,¡± I said, stepping back towards the door.

    ¡°They won¡¯t hurt you!¡± said Apis, who had pulled down his hood instead of bringing it up. He was mad! That was the only explanation. I watched him with half-wide eyes, unable to comprehend it.

    Beyond him was a cramped room. A table was set with two chairs. One of them was half-broken, one leg supported by an old crate. The other was well-made, and clearly repaired. Upon it sat a woven beehive, crawling all-over with bees. As if they sensed Apis¡¯s nearness, they buzzed with excitement, flying over and crawling upon his hands, his face, even his eyes. He didn¡¯t flinch.

    I found myself changing my opinion of him quickly. Before he had seemed only a little timid, perhaps afraid of life outside of the temple. Now I knew better. He hadn¡¯t called me mad because he was completely mad himself.

    ¡°I think we need to be going,¡± I said, and grabbed for the door handle.

    Apis turned to face me. He smiled, the bees crawling over his cheeks. He looked entirely serene. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± he said. ¡°They don¡¯t know you. They worry about strangers. They only missed me.¡±

    Duran, I could feel, was hiding behind me. This was impressive because when he was standing he actually was slightly taller than I was. He had half-drawn the sword again, the slick metal sliding against the sheath with a thwacking sound.

    ¡°They¡¯re bees,¡± I said.

    ¡°They need to be told about everything,¡± he said. He made a clicking noise with his tongue, the kind you might make to reprimand a dog. ¡°Nosy souls. It¡¯s as if they spend all of their time nosing around flowers instead of using their own senses.¡±

    He flicked a hand, sending a few fat bees spiraling back towards the hive. ¡°I¡¯ll put some tea on,¡± he said, helpful. ¡°The fire¡¯s still going.¡±

    In the back of the room, a chimney went up through the whole building. A fireplace was added along with a grate. A few coals still rested there, filling the place with a faint haze of smoke. Apis didn¡¯t seem to mind this smoke. He strode through the apartment, leaning down next to his cot and nudging at the coals with an iron poker until they sparked back to life and nestling a kettle into their flames.

    ¡°Only a few moments now,¡± he said. As he did it, he muttered to the hive; he introduced me in a low voice, calling me the honored voice of Andrena- flowery, if technically true- and just naming Duran as ¡®my boy¡¯.

    I couldn¡¯t tell why I hadn¡¯t moved. Maybe it was because he had told the truth, and the bees hadn¡¯t come near me. They stayed in a little cloud around their hive, which was dripping honey in a steady flow into a bucket underneath the chair. A few adventurous bees were around Apis¡¯s face, but even those had steadily returned to their home.

    I found myself almost believing his talk about bees and being nosy.

    Either that or the smoke was sedating them. I coughed. All of this smoke smell was blending together, reminding me of the temple again. There must be something wrong with the chimney. I shuddered again. Was it better to die by bees, or by fire?

    Andrena, if this is a test, I don¡¯t want to take it.

    ¡°You can stop clutching at my cloak,¡± I said, and felt Duran stand up behind me. He peered forward, leaning on my shoulder, and stared for a long moment at the hive before finally emerging into the main room.

    There wasn¡¯t much space at all; only the table, and the sparse cot in front of the fireplace. A door opened to another room elsewhere, although I couldn¡¯t see anything within the shadowed arch. Apis was leaning over, the sparks illuminating the low bridge of his nose and the tight curls of his hair. He was watching the coals, intent, as though he wasn¡¯t bothered by two strangers in his home.

    I supposed he had no reason to be worried. Other than the cot, the only other things of worth in the room were a few jars stacked up in the corner- empty, but still glass- probably worth a few coppers- and a stone prayer bust. A carved bee, for Andrena. Set above the fireplace, to represent the home. A cupboard in the corner was closed, but I doubted it held anything much of worth.

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    So. He had been telling the truth, about being faithful.

    I swallowed, keeping an eye on those bees, and then stepped forward. ¡°Did you actually have a plan in mind? Or were you just hoping the solution would be in the flames?¡±

    ¡°Tea first,¡± said Apis, solid. ¡°Then we discuss.¡±

    There was a great deal of fiddling with the kettle, then watching it boil with a squeal as the steam escaped. With that sound came a thumping from downstairs; apparently they didn¡¯t like their rest disturbed. Finally he pulled out three roughly thrown mugs, no handles, from the cupboard and sprinkled in a few leaves of tea, pouring in hot water.

    We all exchanged glances. There was only one chair.

    After a great deal of fussing, I was finally forced into the chair- being the only woman- and Apis was forced onto the cot- being the owner of the home. I couldn¡¯t help but gently scoot the chair away from the buzzing of bees, their sound ever-present. Duran hovered near the fireplace, as far from the bees as he could get. He gripped the mug as though it could form some sort of self-defense for him. Before I could ask a question, Apis began to speak.

    ¡°The guards burst into the pub that night,¡± said Apis. ¡°Looking for two people wearing pale tunics and grey cloaks.¡±

    ¡°What of it?¡± I said. That pub looked like it was full of the sort of people who wanted to run from the law. An arsonist was no different than a brawler or a thief, not to them.

    I avoided his gaze and swirled my tea. I might be better off wandering, or asking the discontent crowd at the Spire. After seeing them, it seemed more and more likely that one of the protesters had just gotten lost and burned the wrong building down.

    Besides. I didn¡¯t like the way he was watching me. It was like he expected things of me. As if at any moment, the Goddess Andrena might speak through me.

    Don¡¯t get any ideas.

    ¡°This was different,¡± he said, as though I was especially dim. ¡°The guards forced everyone in the pub to stand up, saying they were checking for any letterboy underneath the tables. I didn¡¯t realize at the time why they might be looking.¡± His eyes gained that haunted cast again, and he clutched his mug tighter. ¡°If I had only known¡­¡±

    ¡°But they didn¡¯t find their targets,¡± I said. ¡°They couldn¡¯t have. Otherwise¡­¡±

    My mind was whirring, though. Had the letterboys really been involved? I hadn¡¯t seen a single one so far in the city- which only now struck me as strange. How were people getting their mail, if the letterboys had been hauled off of the streets? They were usually smaller boys, a little younger than Duran, the better to avoid notice as they delivered letters.

    Easy to avoid notice, even as they slipped into a temple.

    ¡°Let me finish,¡± said Apis. ¡°I saw the guards when I was going to check on the temple this evening. They were dragging a boy down to the jail. He was about your age,¡± he said, nodding to Duran. ¡°Wearing the dusken cloak. It was singed, too. I could see the burn marks.¡±

    I slammed my tea down.

    ¡°It can¡¯t be,¡± I said. ¡°If they caught the letterboys-¡± If they had caught the boys, then what could Andrena possibly want from me? I couldn¡¯t do anything the guards weren¡¯t capable of. They had dozens of men with pikes. I had a large spoon, a teenage boy, and a beekeeper.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t say it was the right boy,¡± said Apis. His tone had turned soothing, the same sound he¡¯d used for the bees. ¡°But they did take one.¡±

    ¡°Say your piece, then,¡± I said.

    ¡°Well, we can visit the jail,¡± he said. ¡°They¡¯ll hang him as soon as he¡¯s put to trial, I expect.¡±

    The taste of tea, once simply poorly brewed, turned over-bitter in my mouth. If they had truly taken the wrong boy¡­

    ¡°Right,¡± I said. ¡°We ought to sleep now, then. We¡¯ll be leaving at dawn.¡± I had resistance to my quest - frankly, I still had no idea what I would do with the arsonist when I found him - but there was also basic decency.

    ¡°Wait.¡± Apis stood, stretched- it sounded like I heard every bone in his back break - and finally gestured for me to come forward. I cast one last suspicious glance at the bees swirling around their woven hive, the honey slowly dripping, then stepped forward.

    ¡°We ought to pray to Andrena before you turn in,¡± he said. ¡°This is-¡±

    He turned to me, and his face lit up with what I could only describe as hope. I had to restrain myself from running in the other direction. ¡°I would thank her- you-¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s definitely her,¡± I said, and tried to focus on the bee to avoid eye contact.

    ¡°I would thank her,¡± he continued, ¡°For the opportunity. The last Voice of Andrena, well, she was wonderful at her job. She was also, ah, distant.¡± His eyes flickered towards the Spire.

    I felt a chill go up my spine. I held out a hand before he could go on. ¡°Is she-¡±

    ¡°No one has been recovered from the ashes yet,¡± he said, which was essentially a yes.

    I shuddered. ¡°Then-¡°

    ¡°Yes,¡± he said. He turned to the bee over the mantlepiece and knelt before the fire. ¡°It¡¯s a gift. You arrived just in time for the council.¡±

    The festival of Flight¡¯s Feast. Usually only an excuse to drink the night away with everyone you liked and most of the people you didn¡¯t. Every decade or so, an impossible bureaucratic headache.

    ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°Absolutely not.¡±

    ¡°The council?¡± asked Duran. He¡¯d put his tea down too and started drawing the sword again. I put a hand on the hilt and pushed it back into the sheath before he broke something.

    ¡°When they decide the next leader of the Spire. It happens every ten years.¡±

    Most of it was already determined. The upper gods- Andrena, Teuthida, Caballus and Ursus- were already determined by their number of worshippers, although if they really wanted they could give a blessing to a smaller god. The small gods were the ones who fought for relevance each election. There were only ten seats for them, after all, and dozens of them to compete for the honor.

    The ultimate high seat of the gods never changed, of course, which was why I thought it was all pointless. That honor was reserved for the Beetle God, Coleoptera.

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me,¡± I said. ¡°They¡¯re protesting at the Spire because the Voice of Ursus has made some rude comment again.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± said Apis. ¡°They¡¯re protesting because Andrena¡¯s temple was burnt to the ground, and the Voice of Cabellus- the god of Fire, in case you didn¡¯t recall- has not denied responsibility.¡±

    I froze. ¡°Surely,¡± I said, watching the flames dance, the kettle still just out of the embers, ¡°The Voice of Andrena- she¡¯s in hiding. She¡¯s just waiting to appear in time for the election.¡±

    ¡°No one knows. The day it happened, the Spire closed to prevent interference in the election. No one in, no one out.¡±

    That had been at least a week and a half ago, by my count.

    I watched the flames and I wondered, very suddenly, what exactly Andrena had in mind when she brought me here.

 9. Not Even the Rats

    The guest room in Apis¡¯s home turned out to be mostly full of jars of mead. I woke up cramped in there, heart pounding and wondering where I was for a few panicked moments before I remembered. The goddess. The capitol. The fire.

    Duran was gone when I turned to check the rest of the room. I shot to my feet in a few seconds, pulling my cloak on and stumbling out into the main room. There I found him, speaking in a low voice to the bees.

    I frowned. That wasn¡¯t right.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± I stayed a respectable distance back, where the hive couldn¡¯t make any sudden movements. I could feel a rumble starting in my belly, but I tried to ignore it. I was low on money and nothing was cheap here, not even an oat-cake.

    ¡°He said they need to know what¡¯s happening,¡± Duran folded his arms. He blinked over at me, face set stubbornly. ¡°I was telling them we¡¯ll be freeing those letterboys. They¡¯re innocent, aren¡¯t they?¡±

    I sighed. ¡°Duran, I know this isn¡¯t what you came south for. I¡¯m sorry for¡­¡± I was sorry for a lot. It was better not to start thinking about it, before my headache got worse. ¡°I know I sprang all of that on you yesterday. But I meant what I said, about being able to find you a new apprenticeship.¡±

    Easier said than done; an apprenticeship like the one he¡¯d had back home, where he had a guaranteed place, was usually decided by the parents long ahead of when a child would be placed. Duran was far too late, looking in a busy city. Still, I might as well try.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t just go off and study with someone else!¡± Duran sprang up and started coming towards me, hands out, like I was a feral cat at the temple grounds. ¡°This- this is better than I could have imagined. I just wanted to leave home. But I¡¯ve already seen a temple, a pub, a beehive, and now I¡¯ll get to see a jail!¡± He paused. ¡°Besides, you¡¯re a goddess, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    You¡¯re a great influence, Elysia. ¡°I¡¯m not a goddess.¡± One step at a time. ¡°If you want to stay¡­ you will have to learn to cook.¡±

    ¡°Of course!¡± said Duran, but as he turned back to the bees, I couldn¡¯t hear any mention of oatcakes in his whispers. Only talk of swords, and victory, and justice. I sighed.

    The door opened, and Apis stepped in. He was holding a jug of water and what looked like a linen cloth full of buns. ¡°Would you care for something to eat?¡±

    He smiled vaguely at me. I grabbed for a bun. ¡°Thank you,¡± I managed, halfway through the first one. Once I swallowed, I continued, ¡°Do you know where they¡¯re being kept?¡±

    The city had two main jails. One was for the truly nasty criminals, a ship anchored out at harbor called the Infamy. Word had it that even the rats out there were desperate for shore. There was also a smaller prison, set next to city hall, called Kingshome. I supposed that they could have also been taken to one of a few small cells in guard stations set around the city, but that didn¡¯t seem to match the level of the crime.

    Apis held out the buns like a shield. ¡°The Infamy.¡±

    The bun, which had been pillowy-soft and sweet, turned to floury glue in my mouth. ¡°What? They¡¯re boys!¡±

    ¡°Boys that might have killed a Voice,¡± he said. ¡°They didn¡¯t want anyone to go missing from Kingshome.¡±

    I took another bite and chewed furiously. ¡°How are we meant to go visit them, then?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll go to the docks. I have a friend with a cart. He lets me borrow it for deliveries most days.¡±

    I finished the bun and set it down, considering Apis. ¡°Why?¡± I managed. ¡°I know this was your home, but¡­ you don¡¯t know me. Not really. Why are you choosing to trust me?¡±

    ¡°The last Voice of Andrena got murdered." For the first time he seemed confident, a full person, instead of the alternately desperate and anxious men he¡¯d been yesterday. ¡°Seems like bad business these days to pretend.¡±

    When I didn¡¯t respond, he added, ¡°Besides- it¡¯s not like I can make much money with mead, right? Maybe if I bring Andrena¡¯s temple back, we can change some things about this city.¡± He offered an additional bun. ¡°Keep your strength up,¡± he said. ¡°You never know.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to keep it in mind." I avoided his eyes as I straightened my cloak and brushed some invisible dust off of my shoulders.

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    I¡¯d set off from home with no ability in cooking all those years ago, and ended up at that inn for decades. People enjoyed my oatcakes. At least one drunk man had cried about them. The pickle goddess had said my pickles didn¡¯t kill me.

    If I had managed to make my way through that, becoming the Voice of the Goddess Andrena was completely within my capabilities. Wasn¡¯t it?

    If they don¡¯t murder you, that is. I squished the thought like a crawling bug and turned to my companions. Apis was eating his own bun and saying something to the bees. Duran was strapping the sword across his back.

    ¡°Don¡¯t take that to the Infamy,¡± I said. ¡°They¡¯ll think you¡¯re a criminal.¡±

    ¡°No, they won¡¯t!" Duran clutched the sword tighter. ¡°I¡¯ll look like a hero!¡±

    I stared across at him. He stared back. ¡°What if we get in a fight?¡±

    I thought about the Voice of Andrena. She had been murdered. I looked to Apis for support, but he was still muttering to the bees.

    If I had been a parent, maybe I would know how to deal with this. As it was, I was dealing with a fourteen year old on my own. I thought it over, and sighed. He already had the sword. How could it go wrong that quickly? He might even learn a lesson about escalating situations.

    ¡°Fine,¡± I said. ¡°Don¡¯t do anything I wouldn¡¯t do.¡±

    ¡°Great!¡± He beamed at me. ¡°I promise I won¡¯t.¡±

    I instantly regretted it, but it was too late to say. Apis was already ushering us out of his apartment. Downstairs, the cart was so broken down I actually mis-took it for a pile of broken crates. It was only when Apis began tying it to a horse that I realized what he was doing.

    "That can¡¯t possibly be safe.¡±

    I stepped back as he smiled at me. I was beginning to fear that smile. That smile said, I grew up in the good will of a goddess, and now I don¡¯t believe in consequences. The temple burning might have been the first time he¡¯d encountered an obstacle he truly couldn¡¯t overcome with sheer force of will.

    Then I remembered the failures to get a brewing license, the threats to remove him from his home. He had encountered obstacles. He simply didn¡¯t allow them to compress his optimism for long enough to remember his own mortality.

    ¡°You need to understand,¡± I negotiated. ¡°I enjoy living.¡±

    Before I could finish my argument, Duran was on the cart. As he settled in, it let out one long, loud squeal, like a pig before the slaughter. A splinter had cracked off.

    In the dirt below, it left such uneven ruts it looked like a drunken horse had been pulling at it. I kicked at a dying weed.

    Apis gave me another mild smile. ¡°It¡¯s sure to be faster. Besides, there¡¯s nothing to be worried about. I¡¯ve delivered mead all over the city with this. Surely it can¡¯t be that dangerous.¡±

    The horse it was strapped to didn¡¯t look very enthusiastic either. She was an old mare chewing at the side of a boot that neighed in complaint as Apis climbed upon her back and I settled in the back of the cart next to Duran. He peered over at me, grinning. ¡°Have you been?¡± He said.

    ¡°To the Infamy?¡± I gripped both sides of the cart. I had to focus on seeming confident, I decided. I had gotten through learning to cook that way. Maybe being a Voice would be that way, too. ¡°No. But I¡¯ve-¡± I paused. What would the Voice say? ¡°I¡¯ve been on something very much like it."

    I had been on a boat once. That was almost the same.

    Apis drove like a born-capitolite, which was to say, he drove like everyone else belonged in a ditch. We took turns at high speed, squealing all the way. We skidded over a bump and I watched one of the wheels half-fall off the axle, only for the cart to thump solidly down and the wheel to fall back in place. When we finally got close to the harbor, though, we came to a dead stop.

    Apis leaned back on the horse and sighed. ¡°Everyone¡¯s trying to see the Infamy, it seems.¡±

    I steadied myself with one hand on Duran¡¯s shoulder and pushed myself upwards, standing.

    The great road that ran down to the harbor was clogged up, horse to horse, one great stink. I could hear the braying and chatter of people all the way back to where we were, complaining and laughing and craning their heads. There was no movement, save for a slight chatter midway through where a woman was walking through, selling meat buns.

    It wasn¡¯t just the volume of people trying to see the Infamy. I could see the faint haze of uniforms through the traffic. Green and gray, for the Spire and the hand of the Law. The guards of the capitol.

    I sat down and crossed my arms, thinking. ¡°They¡¯ve got a blockade,¡± I said.

    ¡°You think that¡¯s why they¡¯re out?¡± Said Apis. ¡°Sometimes they just have guards anyway. The Infamy, well-¡±

    I should have known it wouldn¡¯t be this easy. I leaned forward and pressed my hands into a prayer. Andrena, anything?

    Duran stood up, shaking the cart. ¡°Do you think I could cut our way through?¡±

    ¡°Under no circumstance,¡± I didn''t move my head up from the praying position in between my knees, ¡°are you going to cut your way through.¡±

    ¡°I just think it would speed things up. You know, so we can get on with being heroes.¡±

    ¡°I think a fundamental aspect of heroism,¡± said Apis, ¡°Is not slicing everyone you meet with a sword.¡±

    There was a long and disbelieving silence, punctuated by the braying of donkeys and quarreling over the price of meat buns. The woman was moving closer. I could smell the buns. I took advantage of the silence to pray again. Really, I thought. Anything. Just a small bit of inspiration.

    ¡°How would you know,¡± demanded Duran. ¡°It¡¯s not like you¡¯re a hero! You¡¯re just a- a- a worker!¡± he paused. ¡°Well, you¡¯re all right, I suppose. But I do want to use my sword.¡±

    I put my hands down. From the mouths of babes. ¡°Apis. Have you delivered to the prison before?¡±

    He snorted. ¡°The Infamy doesn¡¯t want mead. That¡¯s above me. Besides, they aren¡¯t exactly helping the prisoners.¡±

    ¡°They have to let some carts through. Workers and such.¡± There were a few buildings trapped beyond the blockade, although it was mostly warehouses and a few shuttered bars.

    ¡°¡­I suppose." Apis leaned back on the horse, scratching the back of his neck in thought.

    ¡°Right. Turn around.¡± I had an idea, finally.

    I just hoped it wouldn''t lead us further into trouble.

 10. Sweet Promises (of Plague)

    We rattled. We squealed. Most importantly, we stank.

    This time as we came down the street, people spotted us coming and gave us a wide berth. The cart was only half-full with garbage. It was what a short timeframe and some rooting around in the street could do, along with a brief visit back to Apis¡¯s home. Hopefully, it was also believable. I had my cloak wrapped around the most bulging parts of me, making an unconvincing man covered in garbage. A jar poked into my back.

    We rattled forward, moment by moment. We¡¯d already passed the woman hawking the buns and one of the seafront attractions. I blinked. I thought I had spotted something else, too- darting through the stopped carts.

    A pale gray cloak, the color of the dusk.

    I couldn¡¯t focus on it for too long. We were approaching the blockade. In front of me, Apis¡¯s shoulders were stiff. Next to me, Duran¡¯s hand was reaching back for the sword.

    I reached over and grabbed his wrist. ¡°Absolutely not!¡±

    ¡°What if we need it!¡± he whispered.

    ¡°They¡¯ve all got better swords than you,¡± I said.

    He frowned at that, but sulked back into his nest of garbage. We¡¯d piled it up around ourselves so the guards would be less likely to recognize us, which worked great in the short-term but also meant I¡¯d have to laundry sooner than I¡¯d expected.

    Unless you happened to give me some magic powers, Andrena. Any time, now.

    The cart rattled to a stop. I closed my eyes and tried to look like nothing more than your average badly-paid raker.

    ¡°We aren¡¯t letting anyone through,¡± said the guard. He sounded exhausted. ¡°I don¡¯t know why your partner didn¡¯t tell you.¡±

    ¡°My partner?¡± said Apis. He sounded mildly confused. I closed my eyes further, like I could stop the sound that way. Why had I let him do the talking? Because no one would believe you.

    ¡°Of course you didn¡¯t let him through,¡± he continued. ¡°You have a job to do. But they¡¯ve summoned us back. Don¡¯t you know how awful the trash gets near the harbor?¡±

    ¡°You rakers are all the same,¡± snorted the guard. ¡°Thinking I¡¯ll just let one through-¡±

    ¡°Think of it this way. You let one raker through, you¡¯re not doing your job. I understand that. I¡¯m a godly man myself, I know you should always follow the rules.¡± His voice had an almost hypnotic quality to it. It was soothing, quiet. Like honey. ¡°And yet,¡± he said, ¡°It only takes one rat for disease to spread, doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°What does this have to do with rats?¡± snapped the guard.

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± said Apis. ¡°Very right. I¡¯ll go. You¡¯ll just be able to let them feed on that garbage, then, and no mistake. No raker like me will get in your way.¡±

    He clicked his tongue at the horse, and I swore to myself under my breath. Just like that, stewing in trash, all to fail? I couldn¡¯t believe it. This should have gotten us through.

    ¡°Wait,¡± said the guard. ¡°What did you say about feeding?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± replied Apis. So mild, so even. ¡°Well, the rats feed on the garbage. The more there is, the more there are.¡± He let that rest for a while. ¡°With that ship quarantining at anchor just off the harbor, of course, one would think¡­ but no, no disease would come from that far off. Don¡¯t listen to a silly raker. All one such as me should think about is rats and garbage. A guard such as yourself wouldn¡¯t be worried.¡± He paused for a few crucial moments. ¡°Although- you haven¡¯t seen a rat, have you?¡±

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    ¡°Why?¡± This was another guard. I heard the clanking of his armor as he approached. They had armed the guards, then? This must be a highly influential blockade.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s only that- no, I wouldn¡¯t want to worry you.¡±

    ¡°Just speak about it, man!¡± howled the guard. I found myself gaining a smidgeon of hope. Although maybe it was just the smell of the stink finally maybe making it into my brain matter.

    ¡°I know I saw someone in line scratching themselves, and that¡¯s the first sign¡­¡±

    ¡°If you go in, you¡¯ll get the rats?¡± The other voice again. ¡°I thought I saw one down by that building to the west.¡±

    ¡°I would never ignore a loose rat.¡± Apis never changed the tone of his voice. ¡°The morgue buys them by the bag.¡±

    ¡°Just drive through,¡± said the first guard. There was a great clanking. ¡°Who¡¯s that with you?¡±

    ¡°My assistants,¡± said Apis, vaguely. ¡°Not a problem, I hope?¡±

    ¡°Make it quick.¡±

    Another whistle, and we were moving. I couldn¡¯t believe it as I leaned back. The guard to my right didn¡¯t even look at me as I passed; he was lifting up his plate armor and checking at his armpit, scratching with a worried expression. I looked to the left. The other guard was checking around his feet, as though disease might emerge from any cobble.

    The road took a sharp turn downhill here. I held on and tried not to let any garbage fall out a we rattled down the cobbles. Only when the cart had stopped squealing did I manage to ask, ¡°Where did you learn to lie like that? I thought Andrena was a goddess of Truth.¡±

    Apis turned around and grinned at me. ¡°I only told the truth,¡± he said. ¡°If they mis-interpreted me, that is a failing of the guard service.¡±

    We came to a stop at the end of the docks. The Infamy was out at anchor, just far enough that any swimming prisoners would be easy to pick out against the muddy brown of the silty water. I wrinkled my nose. It was hard to tell if the stink of the salt and the fish was worse than the garbage still sticking to my skin.

    ¡°Right,¡± I said. ¡°Now we just need a boat.¡±

    Apis was already waving a hand, like he was trying to bid farewell to a departing ship.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± said Duran.

    ¡°They take visitors out to visit the warden when approved,¡± said Apis. ¡°We came to the right dock, I think.¡± He pointed to the sign at the end of the dock. I hadn¡¯t bothered reading it, but took a moment to look at it now. It was half-nailed on and streaked with weathering.

    Tender goes twyce a day

    If you have to ask when

    It isn¡¯t now

    If you have to ask who

    It isn¡¯t you!!!

    ¡°Well,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s welcoming.¡± I squinted out at the Infamy again. They hadn¡¯t bothered putting full sails on it. It was just a weathered hull, a few men with clubs strolling out on top of it. I could see where they¡¯d repainted the name, the old words still half-bleached.

    ¡°I think they¡¯re coming out,¡± said Apis. He smiled. ¡°Andrena provides.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re coming with clubs,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s hide the cart.¡±

    The tender was a comically small boat that swamped dramatically to one side, on account of the massive cast iron cage stuck upon one end. It was big enough to hold four unfriendly adults or six very friendly ones. I stared at it as they rowed out. It was too tall, I decided. Whoever had built it had clearly only heard of the ocean as a theoretical object.

    Once they were in shouting distance, I said, ¡°No prisoners here! You can go and put that back.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t do,¡± said the man rowing at the front. ¡°This is our only boat.¡± He squinted up at me. ¡°If you want the quarantine boat,¡± he said, ¡°I think they already took the healers out. It¡¯s three docks over.¡±

    He must have been a guard. There was another man in the boat, also dressed in the guard uniform of dark gray, but he wasn¡¯t looking at us. He¡¯d propped his head between his knees and was breathing deeply with exertion, his club laying forgotten next to him. I was losing hope rapidly in our ability to get over to the Infamy.

    ¡°Do I look like a healer to you?¡±

    The guard looked to Duran.

    ¡°We¡¯re here to see the prisoners,¡± said Duran. ¡°The letterboys.¡±

    ¡°We can only take family or solicitors,¡± said the man.

    ¡°Excellent,¡± I said. ¡°Apis here is a well-respected solicitor.¡± I glanced over at Apis. His eyes were wide. He shook his head minutely. ¡°Ah, Apis is his nickname,¡± I said. ¡°He prefers¡­ Mel.¡±

    ¡°A solicitor,¡± said the guard. ¡°Right. We¡¯ll take him. The rest of you lot can wait.¡±

    ¡°A solicitor hired by me,¡± I said. I winced. ¡°The boy¡¯s distressed mother.¡±

    The guard stared at me for a long moment. ¡°What¡¯s his name, then?¡±

    ¡°I always call him sweetling.¡±

    ¡°I suppose this kid is his long-lost sibling,¡± said the guard.

    ¡°You¡¯re getting it now!¡±

    ¡°Should I use the sword?¡± said Duran.

    ¡°Don¡¯t use the sword,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯re just coming to an agreement.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how you got past the blockade,¡± sighed the guard. ¡°But I really hope you have something to make this worth it for me.¡±

    We hadn¡¯t only looked for garbage. ¡°How do you feel about mead?¡±

 11. Lost at Sea

    ¡°This is denigrating,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m a citizen of this country. I should be above this.¡±

    Of all the places to ride, why did the guard have to make us ride in the cage?

    ¡°Do you want to row?¡± said the guard who had spent the last ten minutes wheezing for breath.

    I sat down and watched the Infamy grow in between the bars, minute by minute.

    Just beyond I could see the quarantine ship, a faint boat carrying nurses drifting out to carry supplies. They must have docked from across the western ocean, waiting to bring in visitors for the festival. They didn¡¯t need to sit in a cage, I thought bitterly.

    The Infamy had once been the premier warship of the Empire, back when we were the Holy Empire, a great massive creature that had fingers across the continent in every country, bringing back people and spices across great oceans and plains to feed the creature that was the silted harbor it lived in now.

    We weren¡¯t the Empire anymore. We were just one country, and it was just one ship, with no sails and rotting masts, poking into the sky like the remnants of an ancient wildfire. The hull was wide and seemed almost clownishly mis-sized for the harbor, as if it was only meant to be on the open ocean. It had been re-painted with the name Infamy, the old paint and the new both flaking.

    I didn¡¯t look down into the water as we rowed up. Once you were put on the Infamy, you only left one way. A burial at sea.

    ¡°This mead had better be worth it,¡± said the first guard, as he threw up ropes to haul us in. I had spent most of my life on land. As such, I thought I made a very noble cry of alarm when the boat began rocking and we were pulled in.

    The other guard gave me a nasty scowl. ¡°No need to begin screaming,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re held in, remember? Not like you can fall out.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡¯m worried about!¡± I said.

    I held my tongue after that, though. Instead of focusing on the way the boat felt unsteady under my feet as I climbed the rope ladder thrown down for us, I tried to put my mind towards the problem.

    How did one solve a mystery?

    I had only solved one mystery in my life. The case of the missing frying pan. I had first investigated the crime scene- my empty kitchen, which had given me no evidence- before making up my list of suspects. Duran had been surprisingly adamant about his innocence, claiming he had been spending all of his time in the front room of the inn listening to the bard. His father had obviously been eliminated, due to being passed out in a drunken haze. The guests at the inn at the time had all claimed their innocence.

    I had finally found my culprit when circling the inn in an angry haze. I had found a flattened part of ground, and finally tracked it to the outer part of the trees, where the stray dog was chewing on the handle. The remnants of a bone had revealed it had dragged it out of the kitchen, meat in the pan and all.

    I pulled myself up on deck on the Infamy, groaning with the effort and already feeling a bit seasick, and decided the mystery this time probably wasn¡¯t going to be as easy. For one, there were no dogs to blame it on.

    ¡°Right,¡± I said. ¡°Where¡¯s my¡­sweetling.¡±

    There were more guards on deck. They were wearing some combination of a naval uniform and the guard uniform worn in the city. It looked dreadfully uncomfortable. They were also all sweating buckets, even though it was a cool morning for summer in the city. With the breeze going off the water, and the sun low, I could almost convince myself I was somewhere nice instead of in the heart of the Capitol.

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    The dark-haired guard in front of me mopped at his forehead again. ¡°About that,¡± he said.

    ¡°We¡¯re not here to make trouble,¡± said Apis.

    ¡°Not much trouble,¡± added Duran. ¡°We¡¯re just here to help.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m here to see my son,¡± I finished, stepping in front of both of them. ¡°I¡¯m going to make trouble for everyone if I can¡¯t.¡± I glanced towards the mead. ¡°Also, I¡¯ll want the mead back.¡±

    ¡°Please,¡± said the guard hastily. He held up his hands like a shield. ¡°Let¡¯s not move quickly. Allow us to tell you the full story.¡±

    I continued forward. Mostly the movement was because I didn¡¯t like standing that closely to the edge of the ship, where I was too aware of the steep drop towards the ocean, but I liked how the guard looked nervous about it. He stepped back, avoiding my eyes.

    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s better if you see the cell." He scratched at his neck. ¡°That is- well- follow me."

    He straightened his belt, where a club sat, and turned around. The rest of the guards, milling around on deck, said nothing. I saw no prisoners.

    ¡°Do you not let the prisoners out to see any fresh air?¡± I asked.

    ¡°They¡¯re on lock-down. After¡­¡±

    He didn¡¯t continue. I felt Apis and Duran stepping closer to me as we entered the ship. The guard picked up a lantern from the outside of the ship and his trembling hand had to try three separate times to light a match before it lit. He finally took the lantern off the hook and pulled the door open.

    The door revealed a staircase, clearly built after the Infamy was taken into harbor based on the lack of rot. It was wide enough for two people and spiraled down. The ship had three floors. We passed the first one, where men were groaning in pain and calling out towards us.

    On the second, he stepped into an archway. We passed several more barred cells. Most held four to five men, all chained to different parts of the floor with great hooks that looked like they were meant for a butchery. One of them bared his teeth at me. Another lay on the floor, limp and sweating. A pair of prisoners were at the end of their chains, trying to get at each other and yelling vague insults.

    It was all muted, like we¡¯d descended underwater even though I knew we still floated over the ocean¡¯s surface. Everything was hotter and more humid. I could feel sweat beading up at the small of my back, where the multiple layers of my clothing seemed a horrible idea suddenly.

    Apis had gone silent, his face uncharacteristically solemn. His shoulders were straight, but he continued to make eye contact with every prisoner we passed, nodding to them as if he was actually a solicitor. Duran was crowding close to me, the clanking of the sword the only sound next to the clattering of his boots.

    The guard trod on, ignoring the way the prisoners called out insults and begged for scraps. He focused only forwards, on the narrow path between the cells. He headed directly towards the end of the ship.

    There was one cell at the bow of the ship, with both hulls for walls and larger than the rest. The door was locked, but it was empty. All of the hooks lay unused. I could see old scrapes across the floor, as if some great animal had been locked inside. I glanced over spots of dark stains and hoped they weren¡¯t blood.

    I thought again of the age of letterboys. They started at nine. The eldest were fourteen, maybe fifteen. Duran¡¯s age.

    I glanced towards him. He was pale, twitching towards me. For once, he wasn¡¯t grabbing towards the sword, even as one of the men in the cells called out that he could put it to good use. How could they have possibly put those boys in this place?

    ¡°Well?¡± there was something else in the cell, now that my eyes adjusted. A single gray lump. It looked like cloth. ¡°Where¡¯s my son?¡±

    ¡°You have to understand,¡± said the guard. ¡°We check on the prisoners every hour.¡±

    ¡°Not like it did much good!¡± called a prisoner. There was laughter.

    ¡°Shut it!¡± he called. He slammed his club against the bars, but there was even further laughter, echoing in the wooden hull. I could hear it going up and up, through the other floors. It was only once it finally died down, a single laugh echoing from somewhere below, that he continued. ¡°We found it like this half an hour ago,¡± he said.

    Before I asked, he was reaching for his belt and unlocking the door to the cell. With a click, it swung open. I stepped inside without waiting for permission.

    In the center of the cell sat a set of clothing, nearly folded. A gray cloak, the perfect color of the sky as it fell into dusk. A soft pair of pants, the same dusk-color, and a dark shirt. A dark cap with a short brim to finish it off, with a pigeon feather set in the brim.

    I knelt down and pressed a hand along the hem of the cloak. Burn-marks covered it. It smelled of smoke.

    ¡°We had twelve of them in here,¡± said the warden. ¡°That¡¯s the only set of clothes left behind.¡±

 12. Wait for No One

    I stood at once. ¡°You lost twelve boys?¡±

    ¡°Well- they can¡¯t be that far,¡± the guard said. He laughed uncomfortably. "I mean, where could they have gone?"

    I started walking at once, back through the cells. The prisoners kept jeering. I didn¡¯t know if I felt ill from the movement of the ship or the smell of rotten wood. I ignored it all. I took the stairs two at a time and leaned over the side of the ship, peering towards the small boat I¡¯d seen going towards the quarantine ship docked just slightly to the west. I could just barely see it past the glare of the sun off the water. It was moored right at the edge of the harbor, where only a few merchant ships would sail by every day.

    I leaned over further and frowned.

    Another small boat was rowing towards the ship, like the one the Infamy had used to fetch us. They¡¯d been rowing an awful long time, if they¡¯d left the dock before they¡¯d gotten to us.

    There were too many of them. My headcount was up to thirteen. Who sent more than a dozen nurses to bring a few supplies and check the poor merchants and visitors for the festival for fever?

    ¡°Where did you put that boat?¡±

    The other guard groaned as I turned around and started walking towards where we¡¯d taken the ladder before. He¡¯d already opened a jar of mead.

    ¡°What now?¡± he groaned. He scrubbed at his head with the heel of his hand.

    I looked over my shoulder. Apis was just walking out on deck, blinking in the bright light. He had the clothes tucked under his arm, still neatly folded. Duran was a few paces behind me, running to catch up.

    ¡°Do you want your prisoners back or not?¡± I said. ¡°We need back in that boat.¡±

    He stared at me. ¡°I thought you¡¯d be happy your kid was free.¡±

    I said a few words that probably weren¡¯t appropriate under my breath, then glanced back at Duran. ¡°Don¡¯t repeat that.¡±

    He saluted back at me.

    ¡°They¡¯re getting away. They¡¯re already rowing.¡± I snatched the mead out of the guard¡¯s hand. ¡°If you don¡¯t help, I¡¯ll go up to the barricade and start saying you let the murderers out.¡±

    I had seen Durandus the First find a scorpion in his boot, once. His eyebrows had shot up the same way the guard¡¯s did.

    ¡°No need to be rude about it,¡± he muttered. He reached out and took the mead back, taking one last swig before putting the lid back on and nestling it back next to the other jars. ¡°Come on, then.¡±

    It took too long for us all to slide down the ladder and fall back into the heavy prison boat. It took even longer for us to row around the bow of the Infamy, even with me on one set of oars and the guard on the other. Apis was standing in the cage, scanning the horizon for any sign of our prisoners. Duran hunched in the back, too, trying to even out the weight.

    ¡°Good news!¡± said Apis. ¡°They¡¯re slowing down, too. Looks like they¡¯ve overloaded the boat. They¡¯re trading positions for the oars.¡±

    I could feel sweat trickling down the back of my spine. My shoulders were aching. I¡¯d thought I was reasonably strong, after years of moving flour and potatoes in the cellar and taking supplies up to the kitchen. I was wrong. I was nothing but a bait-worm in comparison to the great fish of the sea.

    I gritted my teeth and glared at the guard, who just looked mildly annoyed. He couldn¡¯t know I was struggling. I threw my back further into pulling the oars.

    ¡°I can¡¯t tell if there are thirteen or fourteen,¡± he reported. ¡°They keep moving. Oh- looks like someone¡¯s throwing something. Duck!¡±

    A splash came from the water, drops falling on my cheeks and dampening parts of the boat.

    ¡°Stop running!¡± shouted Duran. ¡°We just want to ask some questions.¡±

    I glanced up. We were still too far away to hear their responses. Someone was standing up, making their entire boat sway. Apis was right; it was too small for the amount of people on it. We were gaining on them, slowly. It was only a few ship-lengths in between the Infamy and the quarantine ship, which I could see now was named The Queen¡¯s Grace.

    A second object came flying at us. I was just able to see enough to duck as it came thumping into the boat. It came rattling to a stop barely to the left of my calf. A shoe. I kept rowing as Apis leaned out of the cage and picked it up.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    ¡°Looks like the right size for a letterboy,¡± he said. ¡°See how well it¡¯s worn down? Someone¡¯s been running across the streets on this.¡±

    We were within shouting distance now. They were mostly dressed in the dusken cloak; a mass of gray, unevenly wobbling across the still water of the harbor. Every time a gentle wave came by, the entire boat shook. The missing letterboys.

    I heaved across the oars. ¡°I¡¯m not here to arrest you!¡±

    ¡°I am!¡± said the guard.

    They were still rowing, that was the problem. As soon as they saw we were close enough to make an attempt, the efforts resumed in double-time. They were beginning to pull away.

    We had lost our chance.

    Something else came flying out from the boat. One of the boys blew a raspberry at us. Another shoe?

    There was another massive splash. ¡°Stop throwing your shoes!¡± I shouted. ¡°Those are expensive!¡±

    I might return them. If they told the truth about what they knew.

    ¡°Elysia,¡± said Apis. ¡°That wasn¡¯t a shoe.¡±

    When I didn¡¯t stop rowing, he grabbed my shoulder. The boat slowed. In the water, paddling like he¡¯d never been in a body of water larger than a pond, fighting furiously to keep his head out of the water- was Duran.

    How had he managed to move out of the cage and jump in, all without me noticing?

    He swung forward, trying to move towards the other boat. It did absolutely nothing. His head dipped underneath the water again. I glanced towards the cage. He hadn¡¯t bothered to take off any clothes first.

    He is your apprentice. I glanced at Apis first, in case he was going to jump in.

    He didn¡¯t do anything other than look mildly panicked. ¡°Swim for the boat!¡± he said.

    ¡°I am!¡± sputtered Duran. He was doing his best to keep his head out from under the water, and he was failing. He had a few minutes left, at best. I wasn¡¯t sure if we had anywhere back home that was deep enough that you couldn¡¯t touch the bottom. Did he even know how to swim?

    He was also going in the wrong direction. What boat was he thinking of?

    Of all of the foolish, impulsive¡­

    I had already taken off my cloak, my top two tunics, and my top pair of skirts. I kicked off my boots as Duran fell underneath the water again.

    ¡°Don¡¯t start rowing away,¡± I said to the guard. ¡°I¡¯ll make you regret it.¡±

    Then I jumped into the water.

    The harbor was just as miserable as I¡¯d expected. It was slightly warm, salty enough to make my eyes burn even when they were closed, and when I emerged, sputtering, it poisoned my mouth with the taste of fine silt and what felt like the taste of every rotten fish at once.

    What clothes I had were dragging me down. I could feel the muscle memory kicking in, though. I floated to the top of the water before beginning to kick over to Duran.

    He was just barely underneath the surface, flailing in panic. I dove underneath and felt about, grabbing whatever felt solid and hauling him up.

    He was resistant in his panic. For a moment I felt myself panic, too. He was going to drown the both of us.

    I kicked once, twice, my legs burning with the effort. My eyes blinked open as I finally breached the surface. Coughing out what water I¡¯d inhaled, I yanked once more on the fabric I¡¯d gripped.

    An elbow hit me in the side, then a hand. Another yank, and Duran finally emerged. I¡¯d grabbed him by the back of the neck like a lost kitten.

    ¡°You¡¯re swimming over too?¡± he said, in between coughs. His lungs sounded like they were half water.

    He was still flailing so wildly he was probably going to drown me at any moment. I grabbed one of his arms and put it over my shoulder. At least he wasn¡¯t very heavy.

    I frowned. ¡°Why do you still have that sword?¡±

    It was slamming into my leg, over and over. It was probably worth half of his body weight.

    In front of me, I could see Apis rowing the boat over to meet us. The guard had apparently decided to stop helping. I didn¡¯t turn around to watch for the boat of escaped prisoners. They were surely long gone.

    ¡°What else am I supposed to use?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s going to drown you!¡± I was treading water with all of the strength I could muster, but with Duran trying to ¡®help¡¯, it was making it twice as difficult. I was already running out of energy. ¡°You- for once in your life, think before you act! Don¡¯t just hold onto the same fool idea!¡±

    Duran¡¯s face went red. ¡°I was trying to help!¡± he said. ¡°I need that sword!¡±

    An oar swung into view, right in between our faces. I grabbed onto it with one hand and swung Duran¡¯s hand onto the other.

    ¡°Next time, I¡¯m leaving you in here. I don¡¯t rescue fools who put themselves into danger.¡±

    By the time I was up on the boat, dripping and smelling of the harbor water, the anger had solidified. I ignored Duran¡¯s stare as Apis dragged him on-board.

    The group of boys was nowhere in sight. They had probably been taken onto the quarantine boat, by now, but there were countless small pieces of rock they could have pulled up onto, if they had taken a small turn in the harbor.

    It was impossible to know. We¡¯d wasted the time we had.

    I sat back and tried not to sulk.

    ¡°Are you going to send me off to someone else?¡± said Duran.

    I folded my arms and turned to stare at him. He looked miserable, dripping onto the boat. He¡¯d gone back into the cage, gripping at one of the bars like I¡¯d trapped him in there.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you think about what you¡¯ve earned for yourself."

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± said Duran. ¡°I am. I just thought- you remember what bard Felix said.¡±

    This was unexpected. I stared for a moment more at him. ¡°No. I don¡¯t.¡±

    Bard Felix had exclusively performed at night. I exclusively made food at night. As such, I had only spoken twice to him. Once, he¡¯d told me he preferred his oatcakes with cardamom instead of cinnamon. The second time, he¡¯d asked me to please stop making them like that and that he¡¯d never make a complaint again.

    ¡°Well-¡±

    ¡°Are you saying you never came to night service because you were listening to bards?¡±

    ¡°He said you should always act quickly, because heroes wait for no one!¡± cried Duran.

    There was no response to that. I turned to the side of the boat and started to wring out my tunic.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± said Apis. He¡¯d started rowing again. ¡°She¡¯s not really angry at you. She¡¯s just worried. You nearly died.¡±

    That didn¡¯t even justify a response. I sniffed and sat down. The guard started rowing again after a particularly nasty glare from me. I turned back to Duran as he sat back at the stern of the boat, curled up.

    ¡°You aren¡¯t a hero. You¡¯re my apprentice. You wait for me.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± he muttered. He shivered slightly.

    I crumpled up my cloak and tossed it over to him. The day, still muggy and warm, had a breeze picking up over the water.

    ¡°We can still keep the mead, can¡¯t we?¡± asked the guard.

 13. Flights Feast

    The cobbled road out of the harbor wound like a serpent up the hill, shining in the late afternoon light. It smelled of rotting fish, of old wood and salt. I felt the stickiness of the saltwater drying on the back of my neck as we rattled up the road and grimaced.

    I probably smelled just as rank.

    This was the capitol¡¯s most impressive view; low in the harbor, all of the buildings seemed like they towered- three, four stories. The Spire, where I could see it in the distance, scraped at the sky. I could almost picture souls sentenced to exile in the ether, reaching down to grasp at the sculpted beetle, desperate to find a way to climb down and into the blissful heat of the earth.

    I scratched again underneath my tunic. Tucked under my feet, away from the rest of the garbage, were the rest of my clothes. Unfortunately, I couldn¡¯t pull them back on. My tunic was still damp, dripping from my journey into the harbor.

    I glanced over at Duran. He was uncharacteristically silent. His hands weren¡¯t on the sword; he¡¯d pulled his knees up to his chest and was resting his chin upon them, his cloak over his shoulders.

    Don¡¯t feel pity for him.

    I grabbed for the edge of the cart as we took a turn too fast around a corner, nearly tipping everyone out.

    ¡°A little more concern here!¡±

    Apis turned back. ¡°Oh, sorry!¡± he said. ¡°I keep forgetting we don¡¯t still have mead back there. The weight¡¯s different, you see.¡±

    The cart creaked so loudly it cut the rest of his conversation off. He smiled at me. ¡°Almost to the guards,¡± he added.

    I slid back down so most of my face was hidden as we came to a stop. The guard that came out to speak had a higher-pitched voice, still-half breaking. An older teenager, it sounded like.

    ¡°Oh,¡± he said. ¡°I didn¡¯t know people were down in the harbor.¡± he paused. ¡°You¡¯re not from the-¡±

    ¡°Would someone from the west be driving a raker¡¯s cart?¡±

    A fly was buzzing close to me. I swatted at it as we waited. The seagulls were cawing loudly. The woman selling food was gone.

    ¡°I suppose,¡± said the boy, doubtfully. He peered into the cart. ¡°Who are you?¡± he said. His eyes were focusing a little too much on the way my tunic had plastered to my chest. I folded my arms and glared at him.

    Duran, next to me, lifted his head off of his knees. ¡°We¡¯re rakers, too,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m apprenticing.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re raking the harbor?¡±

    ¡°I fell in.¡± Duran put his head back on his knees and shivered pitifully. If it was acting, it did wonderfully. The guard only stared at us for a moment more, scratching his attempt at a beard, before standing back.

    ¡°Carry on! But next time, you¡¯ll need a permit. I¡¯m not sure why last shift let you through.¡±

    ¡°May the beetle grace you with what you deserve,¡± said Apis mildly, and clicked his tongue. With a few creaks and groans, we resumed. Moving against the current, I watched the mass of people lined up to try and catch a glimpse of the Infamy with suspicion. They had turned it into almost an open-air market, with no one able to move. People were juggling, others trying to sell their wares. One man was selling lemons to put on fish, although they were so wrinkled they must have been harvested last year.

    I also wondered where anyone was meant to get fish from, if we weren¡¯t allowed down into the harbor.

    It was only once we¡¯d finally made it out of the din, Apis apologizing to everyone we had to squeeze by, that we finally came to a stop in a side alley. Above us, drying clothes snapped in the wind. I gazed mournfully at a pair of pale petticoats. They didn¡¯t smell of seaweed.

    ¡°So,¡± said Apis. ¡°I think that went very well! Andrena surely knew what was in store.¡±

    ¡°Well? We almost lost Duran!¡± I turned to stare up at him. He smiled down at me with both dimples. His eyes half-sparkled in the light. He had no right to look this cheerful.

    ¡°We got the clothes. They smelled of fire to me, and I saw the burns. Surely that¡¯s useful?¡±

    ¡°I brought the shoe.¡± Duran scrambled around in the cart and fished it out. It was stuck in between parts of a barrel and a rotting fish head.

    ¡°I¡¯m not talking about this until we¡¯ve gotten rid of this¡­¡± I waved at the fish head. It stared back at me.

    There was still enough flesh on there to make a stock. I sighed with disappointment. The capitol was too fat and happy with profit; they were letting entire half-fish rot.

    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    Then I reached out and tossed it out of the cart.

    We hadn¡¯t actually needed much garbage to make our disguise convincing. The cart had done the majority of work for us. I left the rest of it in a neat pile at the end of the alley, where a real raker could collect it.

    Then, brushing myself off and trying not to smell anything, I turned back to our group.

    I thought again of the investigation of the missing frying pan. How had I started? I hadn¡¯t been distracted by any false flags. I had gone straight to the heart of it. First, I had gone to the crime scene.

    I thought of the burned temple, of Apis kneeling in front of the statue. There had been nothing there. Probably not worth it, then.

    What had I done next?

    ¡°Who else was at the temple the night of the fire?¡±

    Apis frowned in thought. ¡°Well,¡± he said. ¡°It was regulsday, so it was likely a quiet night. I wouldn¡¯t expect anyone to be there except the Voice and the priestesses.¡±

    ¡°These priestesses.¡± I thought again of the vision Andrena had shown me, of the women running, of the fear and pain. ¡°Are they¡­¡±

    ¡°Oh, they¡¯re alive,¡± he said. ¡°They don¡¯t have time to deal with the main temple, though. The demand for Andrena¡¯s other temples has gone up, from what I¡¯ve heard. I know at least one has been tending the altar there so everyone can pray for the new voice¡¯s health-¡± He smiled at me for that, which was uncalled for- ¡°and the other two are busy with the festival.¡±

    Duran stepped closer, pulling the cloak up to his shoulders. The horse had started to chew at an old boot she¡¯d found in the alleyway.

    ¡°They¡¯re focusing on the festival instead of their goddess? Didn¡¯t she just get murdered?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid! They¡¯re defending her honor!¡± called down a voice. As one, we all looked up. An older woman was leaning out of a top window. She had a fat pipe in one hand, the smoke trailing up to the sky. ¡°The last forty years, Andrena¡¯s priestesses have won the Flight¡¯s Feast lace-weaving competition. You want them to give that up for a little fire?¡±

    She spit downwards in what was, as far as I could tell, disgust. Then she took another draw of her pipe.

    The horse dropped the boot and let out a long whinnying exhale of disgust. I reached over and scratched her behind the ears, thinking. ¡°They weren¡¯t making the lace in the temple?¡±

    ¡°No. It has to be made on festival grounds.¡± Apis stared at me for a moment. ¡°You¡¯ve never seen the competition?¡±

    ¡°Why would I have seen it?¡±

    This time, he was the one that glanced away. ¡°I just¡­ you have a capitol accent. I thought you would have been.¡±

    I had attended the festival, yes. Standing behind people in elaborate dress, there to see and be seen. I hadn¡¯t spent my time doing anything as entertaining as watching lace be made.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s one decision made. To the festival we go.¡±

    The festival grounds had been claimed from what was once the palace, before a few excited revolutionaries had turned it into more of an ashen plain. By now, a few hundred years later, all of the ashes had been raked up. I couldn¡¯t see the single column that remained, the names of the heroes inscribed upon it, because of the sheer volume of people.

    ¡°How does the capitol fit this many people inside it?¡± I groused. I stepped out of the cart. Apis had tied the horse to a nearby post, next to a mule and what looked like either a very large goat or an extremely ugly pony. ¡°Everywhere I turn, it¡¯s another crowd.¡±

    How I missed my days at the inn up north, where I could come back, cook oatcakes, and serve them to people without having to talk to anyone other than Duran.

    ¡°It¡¯s Flight¡¯s Feast,¡± said Apis. He wasn¡¯t bothered by the constant crowds. He didn¡¯t elbow. He only gently, continuously, said ¡°Excuse me,¡± and somehow- miraculously- they all stepped out of the way. ¡°Of course it¡¯s busy.¡±

    Trees had been brought in and set up all over the grounds, their pots seeming too small to contain their trunks as their branches climbed up to grasp at the sky.

    In a few days, when the colonies of beetles usually kept safe at the base of the Spire took flight for their new swarm, everyone would cluster at the base of these trees. I could already see wishes written out on paper and plastered on with sugar- the better for the beetles to consume them and send the prayers directly to the great beetle. Incense would be lit, offerings would be set in the planter pots. All to hope you could convince a swarm of beetles to land in the crown of the tree, burrow in and make a home in the fresh sap and wood of the poor creature.

    I shuddered. I¡¯d never liked the bugs. I certainly hoped I wasn¡¯t around by the time they started swarming.

    There were other booths set up, too. One sold small carved beetles, their wings painted in the shimmering green that was a stand-in for all godly favor. Another sold incense for you to take home.

    A third was telling fortunes. She winked at me as I walked by. ¡°I can see great promise in you!¡± she called. ¡°Stop by. No charge for the first reading!¡±

    I could see Duran slowing. ¡°All they ever tell you is that you¡¯ll marry someone important,¡± I said. I grabbed him by the arm and dragged him forward.

    After the outer ring of booths- which were ramshackle and probably not allowed by the city- the booths started to get larger, more elaborate. A man juggled on top of a turning cycle, his balls all different colors. Another balanced a sword on top of his nose. He winked at Duran when he saw the sword at his hip.

    ¡°Would you like to give it a try, young man?¡±

    Duran just shook his head furiously.

    ¡°Maybe next time,¡± he said. As he grinned, he flipped his head upwards, sending the sword spinning. It fell into his open mouth as we continued deeper into the crowd.

    The air smelled of fried meat and roasted fish, of nuts over charcoal and incense. The sweet scent of honeyed sap candy hung over the entire festival, thick in the back of my throat. I had never liked it. I pulled Duran away from a cart selling honey-crusted nuts as well, their surfaces shimmering in the light of the sun as it lowered.

    We were closer to the center of the market now, where permanent trees grew. They weren¡¯t big, stunted by the stink of the city. Still, they were ornamented now. With every gust of wind, they chimed with the bells hung in their branches and the ribbons falling from their branches. I stopped under one as Apis spoke to a woman holding a massive basket of masks. They were formed to look like a beetles face, antennae poking out towards her side as she moved it to rest on her hip.

    ¡°May your mead always bubble,¡± He gave her a half bow and turned to me. He pointed into the center of the festival, where people clustered into groups of ten to twenty, chattering loudly and laughing. ¡°All we have to do is find the column,¡± he said. ¡°They¡¯ll be near the stage.¡±

    The stage- where the minister came, to give his rousing speeches at the beginning and end of the festival. I had seen this festival from atop it, before.

    Even though the crowd bothered me, I thought I preferred the festival from down here. I pulled the damp fabric of my tunic away from my neck.

    ¡°Well? What are we waiting for?¡±

 14. Extra-Strength in Numbers

    As we approached the center of the festival, the chatter and laughter slowed. Atop it all, another voice floated. It was ringing and strong.

    It irritated me. I thought I had gotten rid of this man a long time ago. I stopped in the middle of the crowd, which had thickened so much I had to elbow my way through, to stare at the stage.

    There he stood. Lady Sylvia¡¯s husband; The Lord Julian. He was the spitting image of his son. He sneered down at all of us, like he was surprised we had been clever enough to find the great massive stage in the middle of the only clearing in the city.

    Behind him, at his right shoulder, was Sylvia herself. I couldn¡¯t see her expression. Only the gentle swoop of her hair, the posture of her shoulders. Their son was nowhere to be seen.

    ¡°For too long,¡± the Lord Julian proclaimed, ¡°We have relied upon the gods to do what we ourselves are capable of. Now, we see the weakness of relying upon such methods. Without the temple of Andrena, do we have city services to resume caring for the weak?¡±

    There was a muttering among the crowd. He¡¯d chosen a fine time to speak against the gods, in the center of the biggest festival of the year. I glanced around, looking for anyone ready to throw rotten fruit.

    The woman next to me was staring up at the stage, but she wasn¡¯t glaring. She looked thoughtful.

    ¡°As for the other Voices,¡± he said, scornfully, ¡°Did they submit themselves to the council to be considered? Did they answer the questions of our lawful guardsmen?¡±

    Lord Julian wasn¡¯t wearing green, I realized. It was traditional for lawmen to wear green and gray robes. The gods and the law, working in tandem. He stood stiffly upon the podium, his robes ornate, and could have been just another stone column.

    At his comment, the crowd erupted into chaos. I could feel myself shoved to the side as one man stalked up towards the podium.

    ¡°Take them all!¡± shouted the man. ¡°He¡¯s the one that killed her!¡±

    As he tried to climb up on the podium, the crowd responded as one great mass with a hundred grasping hands. The space I had previously occupied safely- a good elbow¡¯s distance around myself- was suddenly compressed. I was pushed from behind, jostled to the side. I was nothing more than one more piece of meat in a churning stew. I heard shouts from every side- ¡°Traitor! Godkiller!¡± - ¡°The gods abandoned us!¡± - as I tried to stand up. Another foot kicked me down. It pressed further into my back. I was too-aware of every pebble stuck in the leather as I tried to shove myself up. The dirt pressed further into my cheek, the air all pressed out of my chest at once. The crowd was still going.

    ¡°There is no law but the moving of the world!¡± shouted one.

    ¡°Your guards are bloody useless!¡± cried another one.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you take Celeres! She¡¯s probably dead!¡±

    ¡°Dead? She¡¯s the murderer!¡±

    ¡°Celeres didn¡¯t do anything! It was that Voice of hers!¡±

    ¡°Celeres isn¡¯t even real! It¡¯s Ursus.¡±

    ¡°Andrena¡¯s testing us!¡± That one came from above me. I was about to twist around and give comment on what I felt about that- I desperately wanted to see if the Lord Julian was running yet, but I was distracted by the way people kept kicking my ribs- when a shhhhing! noise distracted me.

    I put my head back down. I knew the sound of a sword being withdrawn when I heard it.

    ¡°Get away!¡± shouted Duran. ¡°You¡¯re going to crush her!¡±

    There was a swishing sound, then a firm thunk as the tip of the sword came crashing down a hand¡¯s length in front of my nose.

    The foot came off of my back instantly. I rolled over onto my back, heaving in air desperately. Above, it was a clear shot to the sky. A tree¡¯s branches rolled gently. Dozens of faces all peered down at me.

    The sun hadn¡¯t set any further. Somehow, it felt like it had been forever.

    I scowled up at everyone staring down at me. They¡¯d all backed up into a careful ellipses. I was ready to bet it was the exact length of Duran¡¯s sword.

    ¡°Right!¡± I said. I coughed. That boot to my back hadn¡¯t helped anything. ¡°Excellent. Thank you for not stepping on me.¡±

    I groaned as I pulled myself up. Every muscle seemed to object to it. I tried not to look like I was aching as I stood up. Away from our little group, the shouts were still happening. I half-jumped. On the height of my jump, I could just barely see to the stage.

    The Lord Julian was gone.

    A hand grabbed my shoulder. I jumped back.

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Sorry!¡± Apis held his hands up, as if I was the one with the sword. ¡°I just- you were coughing oddly there. I thought you might need help walking.¡±

    I was limping. I could probably use the help. I breathed as deeply as I could instead and tried to look official. ¡°There¡¯s no issue. Lead us to the booth.¡±

    The crowd cleared out quickly, shoving each other over in their speed to get out of the way, now that the sword was out. Usually I would have objected to all of it, since I didn¡¯t really agree with using deadly weapons in a crowded area.

    I was going to have a boot-print on my ribs later. I didn¡¯t say anything.

    ¡°I¡¯m really sorry about that,¡± said Apis. He was still hovering next to me, like at any moment I might topple over. If he didn¡¯t get out of my elbow-room soon, I was going to give him something to actually worry about. ¡°Usually it¡¯s more- well- it¡¯s usually chaotic, but people don¡¯t usually get trampled.¡±

    ¡°Just let me know who I ought to stab!¡±

    Duran swung the sword vaguely. He barely missed a couple in front of us, who had clearly missed the speech in favor of writing their wishes down underneath a struggling elm. The woman ducked with a squeak. The man yelped with anger.

    ¡°Hey! That was my favorite coat!¡±

    I leaned down and pressed the piece of the lapel that had been cut off back into his hand.

    ¡°Time and effort makes even the best meal richer,¡± added Apis. ¡°Such is the word of Andrena. Allow it time to grow and you shall be surprised by the result.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a coat!¡±

    ¡°You would argue with a god?¡±

    Apis smiled. I pushed Duran away. Somehow, we didn¡¯t get in a duel.

    At this point, I considered anything that didn¡¯t involve blood a win. I tried to walk faster. There was one booth near the stage with two women, one behind and another leaning over, engaged in quiet conversation.

    A wooden bee was hung over the awning. At last- Andrena¡¯s priestesses.

    The clacking of their bobbins became audible as we stepped close enough to see. They were both in their fifties, maybe early sixties, as far as I could tell. They wore loose open tunics, not matching but in pale colors. Both of them looked far too comfortable for this place.

    On the table, there were jars of pickles and ointments set out. A small piece of incense was lit in front of a carved hive, a single bee crawling out.

    The main feature of the booth was the great drum upon which they were weaving the lace. It was the width of the booth. They passed the bobbins back and forth to each other, working an intricate pattern.

    Who were they weaving lace for? A giant?

    ¡°Apis!¡± said one of the women, looking up. Her hair was cut short to her skull. It was peppered dark gray, with white around her temples. When she smiled her whole face erupted in soft wrinkles. ¡°We worried about you. You¡¯re usually more prompt than this.¡±

    When he didn¡¯t respond quickly enough, she put down a bobbin and leaned forward, putting out a hand. ¡°Have you been by?¡±

    ¡°I was there yesterday. I- we were hoping-¡±

    ¡°Let the boy sit down,¡± the other woman interrupted. She¡¯d picked up the other bobbin and kept on weaving, clicking her tongue in disapproval. ¡°Always so pushy, Stella.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no need for me to sit,¡± said Apis. ¡°No-¡±

    The woman- Stella, it seemed- had already bustled off to get a chair. As she disappeared into the crowd, the other woman resumed her weaving. It was a hexagonal weave, with a few dots and drips. Honeyed comb.

    Flowers spotted the rim.

    ¡°What is the lace for?¡± I ventured.

    ¡°For?¡± said the woman. She flipped a pair of bobbins. ¡°To win,¡± she said.

    Stella came back with three stacked chairs, her face red. As soon as she emerged from the crowd, Apis darted forward to help her. ¡°Go get one,¡± I told Duran.

    ¡°But-¡±

    Before Duran could decide what to do with his sword, Apis was back and helping lay out the chairs underneath the awning of the booth. It was no use; I found myself ushered underneath with the others.

    ¡°It¡¯s not about winning,¡± said Stella. She was ignoring the rest of us. It seemed this argument was old and tired. ¡°It¡¯s about honoring-¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re going to burn it, anyway,¡± said the other woman. Her hair was long, and braided intricately. ¡°The only thing I¡¯ll have to warm myself with is the glory we¡¯ve earned for Andrena.¡±

    Her knuckles were swollen. It looked painful for her to grip the threads, but she moved continuously with no complaint.

    I cleared my throat. ¡°Would you like to- could I-¡±

    ¡°Stay back, girl,¡± said the long-haired woman.

    Stella cackled. ¡°Only person Lucia lets near her lace is the match-man, and even he¡¯s afraid some years.¡±

    ¡°This one is good.¡± The bobbins clicked, back and forth. Another drop of sweat trickled down my back. In the darkness of the tent, everything seemed to focus in on that pale, pale lace, the gleam of the pickles in the jars. The shine of Lucia¡¯s teeth as she smiled. ¡°Very good.¡±

    ¡°She says that every year.¡± Stella turned back to take the bobbin seamlessly. ¡°You¡¯re doing well? Like your place? No problems with the brewing? I heard there¡¯s some trouble with permits. No trouble with you? Of course not, it¡¯s permitted by the temple. Anything else I should know about? Is this your young woman?¡±

    The bobbins clicked in rhythm with her questions. They moved so rapid-fire that Apis wasn¡¯t able to get a word in edgewise.

    Finally, when she stopped for breath, he said, ¡°No. I¡¯m not here about- any of that. This woman-¡±

    They both stopped at that. ¡°She¡¯s your young woman?¡± Stella, for all that she seemed the kinder option, didn¡¯t sound impressed.

    I wasn¡¯t a young anything. ¡°I¡¯m investigating what happened at the temple. Were you there when it happened?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s the voice of Andrena,¡± added Apis. ¡°She¡¯s here at the goddess¡¯s blessing.¡±

    ¡°Voice of Andrena, eh?¡±

    Stella shifted to stare at me further. Behind her, Lucia folded her arms.

    I closed my eyes in defeat. I shouldn¡¯t have told Apis.

    ¡°Sweet pickles.¡±

    I opened one eye again. Stella stared at me, one eyebrow raised. Her eyes were piercing.

    ¡°Sorry?¡±

    ¡°Sweet pickles,¡± she repeated.

    Was I meant to¡­ comment?

    ¡°I¡¯d use the same brine as I do for sour pickles, but add in half the same ratio again of sugar,¡± I said. ¡°But I don¡¯t usually make sweet pickles.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡±

    I glanced over at Duran. He stared over back at me. He was perched on the edge of the chair, still holding the unsheathed sword. The sound outside was starting to increase again; people must be wandering out of the chaos of the fight.

    ¡°I think they¡¯re a waste of cucumbers,¡± I said, finally. Best to be honest. ¡°All that pickling solution, and that dill, for something that can¡¯t decide what kind of food it wants to be. I can accept- maybe- a sweetened pickled pepper, but¡­¡± I paused and cleared my throat. ¡°I don¡¯t usually make sweet pickles,¡± I finished.

    Someone shouted outside. I shifted on the chair. It was so hot in the booth; the overwhelming weight of their judgement came in upon me all at once. Why was I so worried about their good opinions? They were just a couple of priestesses.

    Lucia nodded firmly and resumed moving the bobbins. ¡°Marcia chose her. No one else could have such an awful opinion about pickles.¡±

 15. Temple of Cabellus

    The sounds of Flight¡¯s Feast trickled in through the tent. Screaming. Chanting about godkillers. Prayer to the beetle.

    The smells filtered through. Dirt, sweat, incense, and sweet honey.

    I tried not to itch at my tunic again.

    The two priestesses of Andrena we¡¯d come to meet were working on their lace again, eyes intent. They had apparently decided our conversation was done. Whatever being chosen by Marcia meant, it was good enough for them.

    ¡°I wanted to ask-¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re here to fix the Spire, then?¡±

    I thought it was Lucia that asked. The clicking of the bobbin was mesmerizing. Back and forth, movement even even as the pattern grew. Another bee was emerging at the corner of the lace, darting into an intricate flower.

    ¡°Fix it?¡±

    ¡°Of course it needs fixing. They¡¯re all in there panicking. No replacement.¡± Another click. ¡°We didn¡¯t expect you, of course. Marcia never did like to tell us these things.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not the Voice,¡± I said. Apis and Duran were both silent, watching me as if I was running the entire conversation. I did not like the situation at all. ¡°I¡¯m just- I¡¯ve been sent to find justice.¡±

    Click-Click. ¡°You don¡¯t wish to be the Voice of Andrena?¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t asked to be the Voice of Andrena! She just wanted me to be her-¡± I paused. Mortal Instrument sounded pretty unfortunately close, actually. ¡°¡­Her, ah. Investigator.¡±

    The clicking slowed. After a moment, it resumed. Lucia glanced over at me again.

    Duran piped up, finally. ¡°We¡¯re here to investigate the temple!¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s the Voice?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s my apprentice. Apprentice in cookery,¡± I added, in case they thought I was going to put him into the priesthood. I would be hard-pressed to find someone less suitable.

    ¡°Hmmmm.¡± I thought that was Stella.

    Another set of clicking, and she turned around again. She reached for a delicate linen handkerchief and mopped at her forehead, then at the back of her neck where her short hair stuck out in all directions.

    ¡°Well,¡± she said, eventually, ¡°Can¡¯t say we aren¡¯t disappointed. We¡¯re in great need of a Voice. It would be the first year since the founding of the Empire Andrena hasn¡¯t been represented.¡±

    She stared at me for a moment longer. I tried to sit up straighter. I had the strangest feeling I was back in school again, trying to demonstrate my good manners.

    ¡°There¡¯s still time.¡± There was Apis again, ruining it. ¡°We have more than a week for her to go to the Spire. Can we not do both?¡±

    At least it meant Stella glanced away from me. It was almost comical, how her face softened as soon as she looked over at Apis.

    ¡°Well,¡± she said. ¡°I suppose you can. But it would be better to go now, when they¡¯re sequestered. There are many fundamental conversations you¡¯re missing. The question of funding for new temple construction alone- I just know Ursus is going to try and squeeze in on us-¡±

    ¡°Enough about politics,¡± interrupted Apis. ¡°We wanted to know about the night everything happened.¡±

    ¡°There are many nights.¡± Lucia had turned back to the bobbin, the thick braid swinging as she moved. ¡°Be specific in which path you take.¡±

    ¡°The night the temple was burned. What happened?¡± His expression didn¡¯t even change at the correction.

    ¡°We were here. The lace has to be made.¡±

    ¡°Lucky we were, too!¡± Stella leaned forward from where she leaned against the booth¡¯s table. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve seen it. Nothing except our figure of Andrena- may her honey ever-flow- survived. I weep for Marcia, really I do, but I wish she could have at least managed a bucket of water on her way out of the world.¡± She paused. ¡°May her honey ever-flow, too. I hope she¡¯s found her way to the fields of eternal night by now.¡±

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    She sighed and mopped at her forehead with the linen again. It was soaked with sweat, so much that it was re-depositing water upon her skin. ¡°Such a pity.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what happens when we¡¯re left with so few priestesses! And the ones we have, always the ones not chosen to take the shameless bribes from Teuthida.¡± There was a hacking noise of Lucia spitting in disgust. ¡°As if we¡¯d ever lower ourselves like that! Back in our day, you know as well as I do, you only went to the temple if you were desperate or properly dedicated. None of this payment nonsense.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t have any of it blamed on Candida! She¡¯s a lovely young lady, you know, and always helps me when my knees are giving out.¡±

    ¡°Lovely this, lovely that. She doesn¡¯t live at the temple! Only comes in during her work hours! No wonder someone was able to infiltrate it!¡±

    ¡°She keeps a sharp eye.¡± Stella ran the linen across her forehead again. ¡°We do have trouble staffing the temple, but she was there that night,¡± she added. ¡°You ought to just ask her.¡±

    ¡°Ha! Good luck getting anything out of that girl. She¡¯ll ask you to pay her for her time!¡±

    ¡°Candida¡¯s been sent to our other temple in Northside,¡± added Stella. She sighed. ¡°All of that extra time for her! She worked so hard to get somewhere to stay in the Temple District. Now look at us.¡±

    She gave me another sharp glance. ¡°Another reason we need representation. We¡¯ll be left without our biggest temple until someone convinces both the Temple and the Law to help us fund it.¡±

    I glanced towards the incense burning at the front of their stall. ¡°You don¡¯t have donations?¡±

    ¡°People donate what they can. Not enough to build a new temple.¡±

    Stella turned back to the bobbin at last. ¡°Good luck,¡± she said. ¡°Marcia was a strange one, you know. Never did what anyone expected of her. But when it was really important, she was stable as an oak.¡±

    I stood, adjusting the chair so it was more neatly in the corner. My bruised rib was throbbing again. I wished we hadn¡¯t given away that mead. I could use some of it myself.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, even though I wasn¡¯t entirely sure we¡¯d learned anything.

    ¡°Tell that girl she needs to live in the temple, already!¡±

    ¡°Peace, Lucia.¡± Apis bowed to both of them before we left. ¡°I¡¯ll tell her good wishes from both of you and bubbles in her mead evermore.¡±

    ¡°You little sneak. I should have given you to the temple of Cabellus when I had the chance.¡±

    ¡°Blessings upon you too, Lucia.¡±

    He leaned in. Stella kissed him on the cheek, hands busy again. ¡°Be careful. These are dangerous times. Too many guards about.¡±

    ¡°When have I ever gotten in trouble?¡±

    They both glanced towards Duran. Under their stares, he very slowly re-sheathed the sword.

    ¡°I just wanted to make sure we wouldn¡¯t be attacked in here,¡± he said. He kicked at the dirt. ¡°Are you really not going to get another temple?¡±

    ¡°Andrena will provide,¡± Apis replied, before either woman could get a chance. ¡°Worry is not useful when action can be taken. Allow what you cannot see to grow.¡±

    ¡°Temple of Cabellus,¡± grouched Lucia at that, but she leaned in to kiss him on the cheek too as we left the booth.

    ¡°Are they always like that?¡± I managed, when we were finally out of earshot.

    The crowds had resumed their earlier boisterous chaos, although the sun was now low in the sky and the afternoon heat was thick. I saw someone go by with two candied apples on sticks, a dog darting around his feet; behind him, a woman carried two crying babies. Overhead, every time the breeze came through the bells in their branches rang with a chiming that echoed through the entire festival.

    ¡°Quick,¡± I said, because I wanted to be a little mean. ¡°Duran, what are the top five spices you smell?¡±

    He stopped walking behind me.

    ¡°All I smell is dirt!¡± He sniffed again. ¡°And sweat.¡±

    ¡°Try again,¡± I said.

    I could only smell two. Maybe three, if I counted the honey. The incense used for the beetle was sandalwood and cinnamon. Bark for the beetle to chew on. I would leave the other three spices as a nice little test for Duran.

    ¡°Cinnamon?¡± he managed.

    I let him think about it while we walked through a few more blocks of the festival.

    ¡°They did seem depressed,¡± replied Apis, eventually. He had been trudging along next to us, unusually uninterested. ¡°Maybe I should be visiting more often. I¡¯ve been unreliable in my duties-¡±

    I held out a hand. ¡°Five spices.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t get distracted about your failings, real or not,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯re going to go investigate the rest of this injustice. Marcia will be avenged. I think that¡¯s fulfilling your duty to the temple.¡±

    Apis sighed. ¡°They think I¡¯m¡­¡± he couldn¡¯t even say the lie. I was impressed he¡¯d managed to hold on this long.

    I remembered the rapid-fire questions, the way Lucia had leaned over and delivered judgement and warmth with the same quick venom.

    No. It wasn¡¯t surprising he¡¯d told the truth to a stranger before the priestesses.

    ¡°Does it matter? They know what matters. We¡¯re finding out about the temple.¡±

    ¡°So you aren¡¯t going to-¡±

    ¡°No,¡± I said.

    Duran turned around. He¡¯d picked up a stick of still-burning incense and was alternately holding it up to his nose, then pulling it away when it became too much and he started coughing. ¡°Sandalwood,¡± he said. ¡°Sugar- cloves- and maybe cardamom? And anise?¡±

    ¡°One of those is correct.¡±

    I reached out and pulled the incense out of his hand, putting it out. We were within walking distance of the cart, now. ¡°Apis. Do you think we could make it to that temple before nightfall?¡±

    ¡°No need.¡± Apis was sniffing the air, too, brow furrowed. ¡°I agree. I think it¡¯s cloves.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean, no need?¡±

    ¡°Ah. Well, Candida¡¯s boarding at a women¡¯s house in the Temple District.¡± He pointed in a vague direction. ¡°They have a curfew at nightfall. She¡¯ll be there by now.¡±

 16. All Rules

    The wooden plate over the peep-hole slid open. I shifted in front of the door of the boarding house. ¡°Who goes there?¡±

    The voice was rich and low. It sounded like she¡¯d been smoking a pipe every evening for years, gravelly as she ended the question.

    I squinted up at the sign. Young Lady¡¯s Boarding House.

    Underneath it, in newer paint, Taking Boarders Upon Recommendations Only!

    A second sign had been attached via chains. The text upon it was even smaller. By entering the premises you agree to follow ALL RULES!!

    I was just reading the third sign- THAT MEANS YOU!- When Apis responded. ¡°We¡¯re from the Temple,¡± he said. ¡°Here for Candida.¡±

    The wooden cover thumped shut.

    I turned to look at him. We were in the northern part of the Hammer, so close to the edge of the river Used-to-Be that I could see the rough gardens and overflow ditches, as well as the close-knit buildings across the channel.

    The empty bed lifted up with dust as another gust of wind came through, rattling the front porch where we stood. The boarding-house was in a set of squeezed-in townhouses, all lined up and once painted in bright colors. Now they¡¯d worn down to an even brown.

    ¡°She has to check that Candida¡¯s there,¡± said Apis. Duran was down below us, offering the mare an apple. She¡¯d been surprisingly tolerant of our long day, traipsing about the district. ¡°It¡¯s one of the rules. No visitors without approval.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± I leaned down as Duran yanked his hand back. The mare¡¯s teeth snapped down on empty air. Maybe she wasn¡¯t so tolerant. ¡°Get up here before she kicks you.¡±

    Duran made quick work of it. ¡°I don¡¯t know why she¡¯s so angry,¡± he muttered.

    We didn¡¯t have many horses up north. Not that he got to deal with, anyway.

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t like this boarding house,¡± said Apis. ¡°The proprietress once-¡±

    Before we could learn what the woman had done, the door swung open again. A large woman stood beyond it. She was tall enough she would have to bend down to get through the doorway. When she folded her arms, they bulged with muscle. She was wearing a very conservative dress. Even my mother couldn¡¯t have disapproved of it.

    I swallowed. So. This was why no-one tried to break the rules.

    Behind her, nearly eclipsed by her massive form, was a girl in her mid-twenties at most. She peered around the woman¡¯s waist. ¡°Apis? Has something else- please tell me there wasn¡¯t another fire.¡±

    ¡°Do you invite them in?¡±

    ¡°Of course I do.¡± The girl coughed impatiently. ¡°I mean-¡±

    ¡°Please, come in,¡± said the massive woman. ¡°Follow me. I will chaperone you while you have tea in the parlor. Curfew will begin soon. I hope you will be able to finish your business before then.¡±

    I exchanged a glance with Apis as she led us in. Duran hid behind me- for all that sword, he seemed to quail at any real enemy. ¡°She couldn¡¯t find a more accommodating boarding house?¡± I said, under my breath.

    ¡°My boarding house is the best in the city,¡± said the woman in front of me. ¡°It allows women to preserve their reputations without being forced to work long hours or entertain constant guests.¡±

    I winced. ¡°Of course.¡±

    The woman gave me a squinting glance. ¡°I would think you might understand, madam.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve lived a more¡­ unconventional life,¡± I managed. ¡°Never needed a boarding house.¡±

    ¡°Let your first rule be to understand those outside of your realm,¡± she said, forcefully. That was a quote from a god, I was sure, but I had no idea which one. It didn¡¯t sound like Andrena.

    The parlor turned out to be a beautifully turned-out room next to a roaring fireplace. We were set down in plush chairs my mother would have been jealous of, given various teacups, and even offered biscuits. Duran took three before our hostess took the plate away. He ate all of them at once.

    I watched him cough before I placed my own at the edge of the plate. It had been a long time since I¡¯d used my proper manners, but it seemed I might actually need them here. I tried to focus on my posture.

    Above the mantlepiece, there was an altar hung. Not the bee of Andrena, or a single creature for any of the major gods. Instead, it had hundreds of creatures, small and large, predator and prey- some flying, some walking- spilling out of a woven cornucopia.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    An altar to the small gods.

    I stared at the hostess again. She was quite beautiful, I realized, in a classical way. If you forgot she was twice the size of anyone I¡¯d ever met. She ignored my gaze, drinking her own tea with perfect manners.

    She worshipped the small gods. Not many people did that- not exclusively. This was turning out to be a very strange place, after all.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± said Candida, and I realized I¡¯d gotten completely distracted, again. ¡°Now that we¡¯ve all had our tea.¡±

    She wasn¡¯t drinking anything. Her hands were on the teacup, and they were shaking. She was in her twenties, my initial assessment correct. Her hair was pale, drawn back into a neat bun. She wore a simple linen robe, matching the other priestesses. She¡¯d gone so pale that all of her could have matched that robe. Hair, face, robe; she was nothing but a little piece of parchment, falling back into the chair.

    Her eyes, though, they were bright. They pierced into Apis, dark and angry. ¡°I thought we had increased security! I thought we¡¯d promised it would never happen again!¡±

    ¡°No-¡° he tried. ¡°It¡¯s not-¡±

    ¡°After everything that happened- the temple of Small Gods was so accommodating, and we-¡±

    ¡°There was no second fire!¡±

    She pressed her lips together into a single straight line. Color was returning back to her face now, flushing dark into her cheeks.

    No one spoke for a long moment. I cleared my throat. Duran was still trying to chew the massive bite of biscuit he¡¯d taken. ¡°We¡¯re here to investigate the first burning,¡± I said. ¡°We don¡¯t think the crime was investigated correctly. Would you- you look a bit peaky. Maybe a drink of tea?¡±

    She looked so angry I thought she might storm away. Perhaps what she needed was something to calm her down.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need tea.¡±

    I lifted my own cup up and sniffed at it. ¡°It¡¯s a very nice brew,¡± I said. ¡°Smells like it was imported.¡±

    ¡°Very nice.¡± The hostess nodded approvingly. ¡°Far west. Accented with-¡±

    ¡°Clove? Strange, but it goes well.¡±

    Defusing the situation wasn¡¯t working. I cleared my throat.

    ¡°I just want to know what you saw, that night. Don¡¯t you think Andrena deserves justice?¡±

    She turned to stare at Apis. ¡°You¡¯re going along with this?¡±

    He nodded once.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen this woman before,¡± she continued. ¡°For all you know, she could be involved with it.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s not.¡± He took another drink of tea. ¡°She¡¯s-¡±

    ¡°A concerned citizen,¡± I corrected, before he could admit it. ¡°I care about Andrena very much. The other priestesses approved my investigation.¡±

    I could hear the hostess shift slightly forward, staring at me.

    ¡°Really?¡± Candida turned to Apis again. ¡°What did Lucia actually say?¡±

    ¡°She wanted to know her opinion on sweet pickles.¡±

    The silence was longer this time. Duran finally swallowed and grabbed for the water, swallowing heavily.

    Candida took a sip of her own tea, then leaned back, sighing. ¡°Fine,¡± she said. ¡°But for the record- I don¡¯t think you should be involved.¡±

    ¡°Someone has to do it!¡± Apis put his teacup down, staring over at her earnestly. He¡¯d taken the chair as far away from the hostess as he could, which meant he had to lean across me to stare at Candida. It made me feel like a bit of a third wheel. ¡°After all-¡±

    ¡°You aren¡¯t going to get a brewer¡¯s license if you go around interfering with the law,¡± said Candida. ¡°But what do I know! I¡¯m just the one trying to help you. Go on and ruin your life if you want to.¡±

    ¡°I was never going to get a license. The money¡­¡± Apis stopped talking. ¡°Anyway. We had questions.¡±

    ¡°Well?¡±

    ¡°I just want to hear your account,¡± I said. ¡°Of the night it happened. You were the one there, yes?¡±

    ¡°Me and a dozen other people,¡± snorted Candida. I could still see her getting invested, the flames in the fireplace flickering across her face. The flush was receding now, her pale brow furrowing. A piece of hair had come free, falling down across her cheek.

    ¡°It was the middle of the week,¡± she said. ¡°Not a big night for our temple. People come for our end-of-week fertility seminars, and they make appointments with specific priestesses all day, but that night nothing really was going on. I had a meditation and breathing exercise class going on for women approaching childbirth- I¡¯m sure you¡¯re familiar- but not many people were attending.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not familiar,¡± I said. Why did everyone think I was Duran¡¯s mother? He looked nothing like me.

    ¡°Oh.¡± She paused. ¡°Well, it¡¯s not like we can actually help with- any of that. It¡¯s mostly just, mental.¡± She tapped her head. ¡°It¡¯s scary. I help them calm themselves. Trust in the goddess.¡±

    ¡°The goddess can help?¡± That didn¡¯t sound like it fell under Andrena¡¯s purview. Not really.

    ¡°Oh, no,¡± she said. ¡°But it makes people feel better if they think it does. Anyway, I was midway through coaching the meditation when I saw a boy wandering through the temple. I stood up to shoo him away- some of the women get anxious, you know, and I thought he was interfering- when I saw he was with the postal service.¡±

    ¡°Was anyone else there?¡±

    ¡°Just the Voice,¡± she said. ¡°She-¡° Candida¡¯s voice half-cracked, and she pressed her lips tighter together. ¡°She always prayed late. She spent that day helping out the Temple of Small Gods- she was always so helpful to them- and ended up showing up even later than usual. It was just me and her.¡±

    ¡°What happened, then?¡±

    ¡°Well, I went to say it was a closed event, but I realized it wasn¡¯t a boy when I got closer,¡± she said. ¡°It was a young woman. I thought maybe she was there for the event, but-¡± She made a vague gesture.

    ¡°So she wasn¡¯t-¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°It wasn¡¯t the right event for her,¡± she said. ¡°And they do have lettergirls. I told her to deliver her letter right away. She had a partner, too. I told both of them to leave right away. All I remember is that she was pretty. I couldn''t catch specific features on her partner. All I remember is her eyes. They were light. Not many eyes like that, around here. They might have been green, maybe blue. Something strange.¡± Her finger traced the rim of the teacup. "The guardsmen didn''t much like that description."

    ¡°Did they leave?¡±

    Candida looked away. ¡°I don¡¯t know. After that, it all moved so quickly. I sat back down, started the next meditation, and then¡­ everything was burning.¡±

    A clock chimed. Our hostess stood up. ¡°Curfew,¡± she said. ¡°Please place your dishes upon the table. Thank you for visiting.¡±

    We didn¡¯t even have the chance to bid Candida good-bye. She stood up and turned away, walking up a flight of stairs quickly enough to nearly be running. I let myself be ushered outside, watching the building as I walked.

    There had been no mention of letter-girls on the Infamy.

    ¡°Is the Temple of Small Gods open late?¡±

 17. Cabbage & Honey

    The Temple of Small Gods was not open late. It held quiet hours, for quiet gods, especially when half the residents were gone for the business at the Spire. I stared at the darkening sky as we took the cart back to Apis¡¯s apartment, the cobbles rattling as the mare slowed. She was clearly losing energy this late in the day, her plodding steps uneven.

    Even Duran was flagging. As we stepped up the stairs, I could see his eyes drooping and the sword knocking against his knees. There must have been something in the tea, I decided.

    In front of the door was a woman, around my age, with her arms folded and her eyes narrowed.

    ¡°You!¡±

    She ignored me and Duran. She might have been pretty, in another life. In this one her dark hair was pulled so tightly back that it forced her forehead taut and her hands were calloused and dark with the echoes of soap. A laundress?

    ¡°Me.¡± Apis tried to edge around her towards the door.

    ¡°You said you would be out by the festival. I can still hear the buzzing!¡±

    ¡°The end of the festival,¡± he said. ¡°Andrena¡¯s blessings upon you. When the flight takes-¡±

    ¡°I wanted you out now.¡± The fist tightened. ¡°This is a disgrace. Who¡¯s this? You¡¯re taking tenants now?¡±

    ¡°A friend. Here for dinner only. Her apprentice, as well.¡± Apis hesitated, then held up his hands like he was ready to bow down in front of a statue and pray. ¡°I promise you, I understand your concerns. But the bees are really quite harmless. They even improve the garden.¡±

    ¡°They stung a dog so badly his face was swollen up for days!¡±

    ¡°The dog must have interfered somehow.¡±

    ¡°They stung a child, as well!¡±

    ¡°Children often meddle. It''s related to experiential learning.¡±

    ¡°You cannot possibly blame it all on the people being stung.¡±

    ¡°If they only came to speak to the bees themselves-¡±

    With a cry of rage, the laundress lowered her arms. ¡°I don¡¯t know what they do in that temple of yours, but out here, bees live outside. Get them out, or leave yourself!¡±

    ¡°Someone might hurt them!¡± Apis frowned. ¡°Besides, I leave a window open. They essentially live-¡±

    The laundress stormed off, hitting my shoulder with hers.

    ¡°Nice to meet you!¡± I called after her. She didn¡¯t respond. ¡°Lovely land-lady,¡± I said to Apis, turning back. ¡°Is she always that pleasant?¡±

    ¡°Next time, I¡¯ll ask about the bees before moving in,¡± he said. ¡°It was my mistake. I thought she would like the free honey.¡±

    I tried not to comment one way or the other as we walked up the last creaking stair and made our way inside. The fire was low, but a few puffs of air got it crackling. In the heat of the late day, the room was nearly unbearable until we opened all of the windows. Sedated by the smoke, the hive was only a buzzing presence in the side of the room.

    ¡°Right,¡± said Apis. ¡°I can just- I suppose I have some food..¡± He hunched down and began to open the lids of baskets and pots, frowning.

    ¡°What do you usually eat?¡±

    ¡°¡­Bread,¡± he said. ¡°Honey.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± I pushed him aside. ¡°Duran, you¡¯re helping.¡±

    ¡°Bwuh?¡± Duran had already slid down onto a chair. At mention of his name, he woke up again, grabbing for the sword. When I gestured him over, he set it aside and pushed his sleeves up.

    Together, we washed our hands off in a small jug of water before investigating Apis¡¯s supplies. He actually had a relatively well-stocked pantry, most of it untouched. ¡°The temple provided you with this?¡±

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    ¡°Some of it.¡± Apis peered at us from a safe distance. He had retreated back next to the hive after the first time I¡¯d shooed him away.

    A treasure had just emerged from the pantry, hidden behind a jar of olives and several pots of honey in comb. ¡°You didn¡¯t use this? This is lovely!¡±

    A fat, round cabbage, green and shining. The outer leaves didn¡¯t look as fresh, but as I peeled them back, the center was still perfect. The little box he used to store his food was relatively cool and dark compared to the rest of the apartment. I pressed a hand to the cabbage, testing it for firmness. Still good.

    ¡°Someone traded it for mead. I didn¡¯t know what to do with it.¡±

    ¡°Well!¡±

    I held it up, rotating it in the light. This was the best luck I¡¯d had all day.

    ¡°Duran! What would you do with this cabbage.¡±

    He squinted up at it. ¡°Pickle it?¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± I allowed. ¡°Not very good, but acceptable.¡±

    ¡°Stew it?¡±

    ¡°Good. But we¡¯re hungry now.¡±

    ¡°Cabbage rolls!¡± He frowned. ¡°Although¡­ I don¡¯t know how to do that yet, actually.¡±

    ¡°Also delicious,¡± I said. ¡°But too complicated. We¡¯re missing ingredients for that.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± he said. ¡°Yes. I remember now.¡±

    He leaned back and scratched his head. ¡°What did you want to do, then?¡±

    ¡°Salad!¡± I said it with such relish, I didn¡¯t realize no one had responded until I looked around and saw the lack of response. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not really cooking, is it?¡±

    I reached over and hit Duran gently on the head with the cabbage. ¡°Of course it is!¡±

    ¡°But¡­ we got the fire going! We aren¡¯t going to heat up anything?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll make oat-cakes,¡± I said. When in doubt, always oat-cakes. ¡°You¡¯re going to make cabbage salad. Don¡¯t think I won¡¯t test how evenly you chop the cabbage!¡±

    I wouldn¡¯t be testing it, not really. I¡¯d learned to cook at inns and pubs, where everyone was too drunk for it to make a difference.

    Duran brightened at that. I leaned over, grabbing for Apis¡¯s nearest knife- it was too-small and half-coated with honey, but it would do- and a board for him to cut on. ¡°Small pieces,¡± I said. ¡°Nearly shredded.¡±

    I could see him looking over towards the sword. ¡°Absolutely not.¡±

    When I was sure Duran wasn¡¯t going to cut anyone with the sword, I could dedicate myself to the oatcakes. Even with Apis¡¯s limited pantry- he had an incredibly random variety of ingredients, as though he never shopped for himself- I was able to make a decent oat-cake. Truly, the perfect food. As I let the batter rest, I put the pan in the fire, watching the oil on the surface bubble.

    ¡°How is it looking?¡±

    I stared over at Duran¡¯s work.

    The cabbage was¡­. smaller. That was about all I could say for it. Some pieces were the size of my thumb, while some were the thickness of my hand. A few were as small as a piece of parchment.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you try and make them all bite-size?¡± I managed.

    ¡°Whose bite?¡±

    I turned to Apis for help. He¡¯d already gone back to the bees.

    I sighed and looked back at Duran. I held my fingers apart about a knuckle¡¯s length. ¡°If they¡¯re bigger than this, cut them down.¡±

    His eyes grew wide.

    ¡°¡­.Oh.¡± He looked back down at the cabbage. ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Enjoy the journey. Don''t be in a rush for your destination.¡±

    The first two oat-cakes went in, hissing on the pan. They filled the entire room with a pleasant smell, part-spice and part-oat. I could feel my belly growling.

    As they cooked, I pulled out a small bowl. ¡°Mind if I use some of your honey?¡±

    ¡°Please do!¡± Apis turned so quickly he nearly fell over. ¡°I have too much!¡±

    I didn¡¯t want to address the depth of that statement, so I turned back to the pantry and pulled out one of the jars of honey and pulled off the wax-coated fabric covering the top.

    I spooned some out, adding it to a bowl. After it was a decent-sized pool, I pulled out the jar of vinegar some thoughtful priestess had donated and added a reasonable dollop, whisking them together. ¡°How goes the chopping?¡±

    There was no response from Duran, only a focused silence. I went to go flip the oatcakes.

    They were a little burned. I swore under my breath and lowered myself to try and adjust the fire. I wasn¡¯t used to the way this fireplace worked. As I adjusted the airflow, it flamed up.

    I staggered back. I wasn¡¯t sure I had eyebrows anymore.

    ¡°Oh,¡± said Apis. ¡°It does that. Sorry. It can only go big and bigger.¡±

    ¡°I could have used a warning.¡±

    I brought my very-warm hands back and put it back on big. Burned oatcakes it was.

    The first two came off. I put six more on, filling up the pan. I handed one test oatcake to Apis and split the other one in half. ¡°What¡¯s it missing?¡±

    ¡°Is this small enough?¡± Duran didn¡¯t even try it.

    I squinted at the cabbage. It looked like some creature had mauled it, but it was edible now. ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± I reached in and removed the cabbage heart. After a moment of contemplation, I realized Apis had no basket for compost. I threw it out the window. ¡°Good work.¡±

    Duran¡¯s face lit up. He beamed at me. ¡°Really?¡±

    I offered him the oatcake. He took it and ate it so fast he had to half-open his mouth to let the steam out. ¡°Um- uh-¡± He swallowed heartily. ¡°Not enough salt?¡±

    I froze midway through my bite. He was right.

    ¡°Add coriander, oil, and rue to that,¡± I said, instead of admitting it. ¡°Taste it to make sure it¡¯s balanced. When you¡¯re done, add the dressing.¡±

    When we finally finished, it was a hungry crew that sat around the table. Well, some of us sat. The bees buzzed at one chair; I stood, and Duran sat on the floor. Apis sat next to his bees, and offered them a cup of sugar-water.

    Still, the food did well enough to fix any gaps. I put some of the mis-matched cabbage on my spoon, chewed on an oat-cake, and let myself exhale.

    Underneath the window, the burned uniform still lay waiting for me to inspect it. A mote of moonlight highlighted every line of fabric, every wrinkle.

    In the morning, I would check. I would try to add up every clue and make it part of a larger puzzle.

    Tonight, I had cabbage and oat-cakes.

    I finished a bite of the cabbage. There was enough salt.

    ¡°Good work, Duran.¡±

 18. Small Gods

    A cape, the color of dusk- barely gray, slightly orange like the setting sun had barely tinged it with color. At the edges, burned. Only long enough to cover the upper shoulders. A tunic. Light linen. Good fabric. I pressed it between my fingers. Burned, too. Easily. It smelled ever-slightly of grease.

    A cosmetic product? Or something else?

    I held the tunic up to my eyes, turned it back and forth. I couldn¡¯t see anything except for the soot clinging on the edges, the spots where embers had jumped up and burned holes in the cloth. I pulled it out and glanced at it.

    It was large, that was true. Not large for an adult, but for a letterboy¡­

    It could have held a young woman. She would have to be slender. I tried to assess the width of the arms, the length of the torso. It would be too short, if she had anything up top. It might reveal part of her back and torso unless she had a shift underneath.

    ¡°This is standard for a letterboy?¡± I turned to Apis. It had been years since I was in the capital. Long enough for small details, uniforms, to change.

    His brow furrowed in concentration. He picked up a shoe and rotated it. Water still squished out from under his hands at any application of pressure. ¡°Yes,¡± he said, eventually. ¡°There¡¯s a name inscribed in this one. Or- initials, at least.¡±

    I leaned in to peer at it. Sure enough. Two letters. I couldn¡¯t quite make them out, as swollen from the water as the leather was. I pulled down the tunic and inspected it everywhere I could think of from a similar marking. Did the letterboys get their uniforms cleaned at a single location?

    There. Inside the neck. Someone had marked L.L. inside the neck.

    ¡°Know any letterboys by those initials?¡± I said.

    Apis frowned back at me. ¡°She said there was a young woman wearing it.¡±

    ¡°Sorry. Lettergirls.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°I mean- do we know that a letterboy was wearing this at all?¡±

    He flattened his hand on the pieces of the uniform I hadn¡¯t touched, the neatly folded breeches. The waistband was scorched as well. ¡°Why would both the waistband and the bottom of the tunic be scorched? They should overlap. Whoever was wearing this, it didn¡¯t fit correctly.¡±

    The door to the other room in the apartment creaked open, Duran stumbling out and muttering sleepily. I ignored him for the moment and turned back to Apis. In the morning light, his face was illuminated in concentration, his brow furrowed.

    ¡°So you think someone was- what, paid off?¡± I traced the letters again. Who labelled their clothing? ¡°Do you know where the letterboys congregate?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± said Apis. ¡°But the Small Gods might.¡±

    <hr>

    The Temple of Small Gods was all the way over in Northside. Apis¡¯s friend had apparently requested his mare back, so we had to go by foot. It was most of a day¡¯s walk, the city bustling with activity for Flight¡¯s Feast. I had to endure Duran¡¯s excitement the entire way. He nearly bounced off of the cobbles, going from stall to stall.

    Eventually, I broke. At the third stall, I relented and paid for him to get a honey-sweet root candy. As we walked, Apis leaned over. ¡°Excellent choice,¡± he said, under his breath.

    I chewed on my own candy. ¡°This is just for the boy,¡± I replied. ¡°It helps his learning.¡±

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    I swallowed. The candied root was my favorite. They hadn¡¯t added enough spice to this one, though.

    Apis chewed on his own. ¡°I can tell.¡±

    I shot him an accusing look, but he¡¯d already resumed his casual amble. We were out of most of the crowd now, passing over the footbridge to the Central district. To our left, I could see the more dangerous alleyways and narrow passages of the darker parts of the harbor. That was where all of the more seedy types anchored in port; the ones that didn¡¯t need deep water.

    I reached out and pressed my hand to Duran¡¯s shoulder, pushing him a little further to the East. The last thing we needed today was a fight with pirates. We¡¯d brought the sword again, and a weapon like that could give all sorts of people bad ideas.

    In the Central District, people were still clearly crowding into the city for the festival; here, people were permitted to camp in alleyways for extra housing as pilgrims for the festival. They had set up cheerful little encampments, pods of tents that were little more than waxed canvas stretched between alleyways with a cook-fire and a few bright flags to show they were friendly. Others, as we got closer to the bridge to Northside, were more elaborate.

    In the square where a building once was, a man that must have been a district noble had set up with an entire entourage. His tent was set up on a built wooden plinth, and a juggler was outside, burping gouts of flame. Duran stopped to stare, and it was only a poke in the back with the stick from the honey that got him going again.

    ¡°What did he eat to get that going, do you think?¡±

    ¡°Grease, I must think,¡± said Apis. ¡°But don¡¯t repeat it. Andrena frowns upon those who risk for no reward.¡±

    ¡°Cabellus would love it, if you¡¯re still considering it.¡± I shot Apis a smug look, and then remembered who I was speaking over. ¡°If you¡¯re going to steal someone¡¯s cooking grease, though, don¡¯t take mine.¡±

    ¡°I would never!¡± Duran coughed. ¡°I remember the pan.¡±

    There was a temple in this district, I thought, but it was somewhere in the edgeways where the City started to get dangerous and less-settled. Here, where the buildings were well-maintained and the guard¡¯s sigil shone on every other corner, the symbols of the gods were shockingly well distributed. Mostly the beetle, yes, but there were bees, squids and bears, many horses, and even a few sheaths of wheat and overflowing cornucopias. This was a district that was playing their bets.

    Finally we reached the bridge over the Sometimes.

    Today it was a hopeful trickle. I stared down, watching the water wind in between the few coins that had been thrown down- mostly bronze, though a few silver still hadn¡¯t been scavenged this early in the day- before stepping along.

    Northside awaited.

    Here was another part of the city I had rarely entered in my previous life. It stank higher than the other parts, was more densely packed. The buildings were twice as close and twice as high. I saw more people, bustling around, but they weren¡¯t decorated in shining wings for the festival. They had heads down and dark clothes on, moving fast.

    The Temple was in the southern part of the district. I found myself surprised, gazing up at it.

    It was unremarkable. It looked more like a run-down home than anything that was meant to host dozens of gods. The cornucopia hung over it, and two buckets hung to either side of the door. A single stick balanced them over the entry. They were meant to hold gold, but as I entered, I peered in to see both were empty.

    ¡°It¡¯s been a rough year,¡± Apis said.

    We didn¡¯t knock. He only pushed open the door, and we entered. Inside, an old man sat. He leaned back in a rocking chair, underneath a round window. He was reading a large book, glasses pushed to the end of his nose.

    There was no one else inside. He seemed perfectly content in the silence. It went against everything I expected of gods- but then, wasn¡¯t that what small gods were? They weren¡¯t even included in most temples.

    As we entered, the man looked up, eyebrows raised. ¡°Ah!¡±

    He closed the book and leaned forward. ¡°I¡¯m afraid we¡¯re closed.¡±

    ¡°For the day?¡± Apis looked behind him. ¡°It said nothing. The door was open.¡± He coughed. ¡°I apologize, of course, Priest..¡±

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m not a priest.¡± The man smiled mildly. ¡°I¡¯m not anything, really. I just clean here.¡± He gestured vaguely. ¡°And I meant what I said. There¡¯s nothing for you to see here. The temple¡¯s done with. Permanently.¡±

    Apis was the first to say what I was thinking, which was, of course, ¡°Well- what are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°Here to scare off all the visitors,¡± said the old man. He was surprisingly genial for his task. He hadn¡¯t taken his hands off of the book, still smiling mildly. ¡°Besides, I¡¯m the caretaker for this old house. Someone has to keep an eye on it.¡±

    ¡°Is this just about the feast?¡± Said Duran. ¡°Are you watching it while they¡¯re at the Spire?¡±

    I glanced at Duran in surprise. It was an unexpectedly astute observation from him.

    The old man shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s been desecrated,¡± he said. His hand rose, shaking, and pointed to the back of the room.

    Where the altar should have been, surrounded by all of the holy objects, there was only ash.

 19. Over-Use of Cloves

    ¡°Can they not re-consecrate it?¡± This time I spoke, walking further into the room even as Apis froze in horror. I heard Duran following me, his steps uneven.

    The old man just rocked back and forth, back and forth. His salt-and-pepper hair shone strangely in the light from the window.

    ¡°Suppose they could,¡± he said. ¡°I only follow orders. Orders were, close up the temple.¡± He made a vague, dismissive gesture. ¡°If you had offerings, small gods are forgiving. I¡¯d suggest giving at home.¡±

    ¡°We were hoping to speak to the Voices themselves.¡± I swallowed. ¡°Were they- was anyone.¡±

    ¡°No. No one was hurt.¡± I stared at his hands as he rocked back and forth. What was he reading? I couldn¡¯t make out the title. ¡°Don¡¯t know where they are, though. Some of them are at the Spire, no doubt. The others¡­¡±

    He frowned. He stopped rocking as he did, reaching up to scratch at his chin. I tried not to be obvious about turning my head to read the title of the book.

    Where Will the World Go?

    I frowned. It was a children¡¯s book. Read to small children, to help them learn to read. He didn¡¯t have the illustrated version, but it was common- easy to copy, easy to distribute. Someone must have hand-written this copy.

    ¡°They were lodging at the tea-house on the upper side of the district, last I checked,¡± he finished. ¡°Not that I¡¯ve seen anyone lately. No one¡¯s been eager to return here.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± I glanced at Apis. He gave a faint nod.

    ¡°May we look at the altar?¡± said Duran.

    The old man said nothing to reject us, so we all crowded around the ashes of the altar. They were fine-ground, pale gray and cold. It had clearly happened days ago. ¡°When was it burned?¡±

    ¡°A week and a few days ago,¡± he said. ¡°Wasn¡¯t here when it went up. Everyone said it sparked up at an offering from the Voice of Celeres. One tiny flame, and it was gone. Once I got here, the Voice of Ludo was the only one remaining. He seemed shaken up himself, and I¡¯ve never seen him with anything less than a smile on his face.¡±

    Ludo. I squinted towards the altar. Who was Ludo?

    ¡°Games,¡± muttered Apis, from next to me. ¡°Gambles, events of chance. One of the strongest Small Gods. If they left him here, it meant all of the rest were too afraid to take their chances. They thought they might be vulnerable.¡±

    His hand clenched. I watched mine, on the wood only a finger-length away, and resisted the urge to extend it in comfort. The Voices had been right to worry. Only a few hours later, the Voice of a large god had been taken down as easily as this altar, and no power of Andrena¡¯s had been able to stop it.

    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Duran had pulled something out of the ashes. It was a piece of parchment, half-burned and torn.

    I held up a hand to my lips. My pulse spiked in excitement. His hands, covered in ash, were an indicator of his guilt- but I wanted to read that letter. I had a feeling it was the letter Celeres had been sacrificing.

    Trying to obscure the letter from the view of the old man, we all clustered around it and pried it open. The handwriting was spiky and difficult to read. It began with typical praises, for a bountiful month and for benefits beyond all reckoning.

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    It was the second part that interested me. I could only make out half of the words-

    As has never been-

    Bless us with-

    Will need to-

    I reached out, trying to un-curl the rest of it, and it crumbled away in my hands. I leaned back on my heels, restraining a growl of frustration, and finally stood to dust off my hands. Andrena, I could use some divine inspiration about now.

    The air was thick with ash now, and I felt farther away than ever from our goal. ¡°Did the Voice of Andrena come here often?¡± I said.

    ¡°Oh.¡± Said the caretaker. ¡°No. I never saw her.¡± He indicated the doorway with a nod of his head.

    ¡°She said she was visiting you.¡± Apis folded his arms, standing up next to me. He looked almost nauseous, considering the Voice telling a lie. He should have been broken of such notions after a few hours with me.

    ¡°She might have been at the tea-house. Less prying eyes.¡±

    The caretaker looked deliberately at my ash-covered body, to the remains of the altar. I coughed. ¡°Yes. Of course.¡±

    I may have fallen from what I once was, but I still was able to pick up a hint or two. After a few maneuvers, we were out on the street, squinting in the afternoon sun. ¡°Have you heard anything of this tea-house?¡± I said.

    ¡°How many tea-houses can there possibly be?¡± Apis brushed himself off, too. The cloud of ash pushed halfway down the street. ¡°I¡¯m sure it will be fine.¡±

    <hr>

    The first tea-house pushed us out as soon as they saw us enter.

    ¡°Not looking like that! We keep a proper establishment!¡±

    The second tea-house was almost entirely workers, and as we pushed the doors open they all turned to look at us with sullen glares. We still proceeded to the counter, where I ordered a cup of their darkest spiced far-west tea they could manage. The woman gave it to me in a rough-hewn wooden cup with a glare and jerked her head towards the only empty table.

    ¡°We charge after the first half-hour,¡± she said.

    I didn¡¯t want to stay beyond the first five minutes. The tea was over-brewed and they had done the balance of spices all wrong. I gave it to Duran, who couldn¡¯t tolerate it. He gave it to Apis, who pulled a jar of honey out from a sleeve somewhere and was still spooning it out from under his sleeve when the man from the table across from us turned in his seat to look at me.

    ¡°What do you want?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d like it if everyone could stop overwhelming their drinks with cloves,¡± I said, as a point-blank response.

    I watched his face- he looked like the kind of crowd we got at the inn, although less a pilgrim and more of an industrial worker, probably a tanner by the looks of the stains on his hands- and decided that hadn¡¯t been a politic answer. ¡°I¡¯m here for tea,¡± I revised.

    ¡°This is for working people,¡± he said. ¡°We aren¡¯t here for- for-¡±

    Apis paused mid-sip. He put the cup down and turned around. ¡°We¡¯re here in service of Andrena,¡± he said, earnestly. I cast a glance up at the symbol of Ursus hung over the counter and grabbed at his shoulder.

    ¡°You know what,¡± I said, ¡°I think we were just going. Thank you for your time.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t give them a chance!¡± he said as we left. ¡°What if they were-¡±

    ¡°The Small Gods wouldn¡¯t be in a place dedicated to Ursus,¡± I said. ¡°He hates the small gods. Says it at every opportunity. Didn¡¯t the last Bear¡¯s Voice say he¡¯d eat them?¡±

    ¡°How do you remember that, but not the names of any small gods?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s part of a menu,¡± I said.

    The third tea-house was tucked in behind a laundry, the steam billowing over the sign and giving it all a rather mystical appeal. The actual shop-front was very small, even the door a step-down from the street. I squinted up at the sign to make sure, but yes, it was a tea-house; they had put it in the downstairs, with a brewing operation upstairs.

    I stared dubiously at all of the kegs and pipes I could see. Didn¡¯t brewing operations have explosions sometimes? I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted to be underneath one of them.

    ¡°Well?¡±

    I forced myself to push the door open and step down, past the slightly damp walls and into a nested basement of chairs.

    This tea-house was nearly empty. A few older women chatted in one corner, their tea paired with a plate of a few biscuits. In another corner, a man and a younger woman sat a little too close to be polite as she fed him a piece of fruit.

    In the center, around a great table, sat four people. A man with dark hair, his eyes low-lidded. He smoked a pipe indoors, the smoke winding around him. Next to him, a young woman- not even at her majority yet- tapping her foot unevenly, nervously, on the ground. An older man, stroking his beard, sat on the end. Then, writing a letter and otherwise ignoring the goings-on, a woman with hair plaited down her back and a long robe that would have fit in in any cleric¡¯s hall.

    The man with the pipe looked up and tapped out the ash, his face shrouded in smoke. ¡°Say,¡± he said. ¡°I like the look of that sword. Have a cup with us?¡±

 20. Chamomile Candor

    Duran glanced over at me, eyes wide. I took stock of the rest of the tea-house. We weren¡¯t anything notable, stood as we were next to the large table. Just another set of patrons. Apis coughed slightly in the haze of smoke coming from the pipe, the surface of the table polished. The woman hunched over the table continued scribbling, not looking up as she wrote. The stack of papers next to her grew taller as she added another piece to the pile.

    At the end of the room, a cup clinked.

    I nodded slightly. Duran sat first, dragging out a chair with a screech of wood along the floor.

    Only when we were all seated did the man place his pipe back in his mouth and lean forward to un-stack a few more cups, placing them down and pouring out tea in a steady stream. He didn¡¯t bother to speak. The others still paid us no mind.

    ¡°Are you the Voices?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ve always liked this blend,¡± said the man. He slid over the cup. It nearly tipped, reaching me, yet at the very last second it hit a ripple in the wood. I watched the pale surface undulate, nearly over-tipping the rim before finally recovering. Only once it was still did I reach for the cup. ¡°Grown here, unlike most. You¡¯re familiar with it?¡±

    Of course I was.

    ¡°Who doesn¡¯t know Chamomile?¡±

    Not my favorite, as it happened. I wanted flavor, not just some leaves left in water until they lost all personality. I still raised the cup to my lips, let the tea burn my tongue before lowering it again.

    ¡°Decimus,¡± said the man with dark hair. He tapped his pipe again, settling the leaf. No one else was smoking in here, and the smoke made my throat heavy. It was rude, these days, to fill a place with smoke. Especially one with so few windows. ¡°Most know me as Ludo, though.¡±

    This was the man that had dealt with the altar? I watched him thoughtfully. One of the most powerful Small Gods. Gambling, chance. He didn¡¯t look particularly lucky.

    ¡°I thought everyone was locked in the Spire for contemplation.¡± A few of the more minor Voices. Those were who I had been trying to speak to. The larger gods, they should all be vying for power right now- trying to get a better place in the Spire.

    ¡°Ha.¡± The woman writing scribbled something else down. ¡°As if we¡¯d participate in that farce.¡±

    Another scribbling movement. She didn¡¯t attempt to explain further.

    ¡°As if you were invited,¡± said the old man. His voice was low, grumbling. He glanced over at me. ¡°Some of us are in the Spire, yes. But not all.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t want to get burned,¡± snapped the young woman. She broke a biscuit in half and dipped it into the tea, then bit it again with her back teeth. Crumbs scattered all across the table. She was in constant movement.

    I didn¡¯t know enough about the small gods. I glanced across. ¡°You are¡­¡±

    ¡°Gaius,¡± said the bearded man first. ¡°Voice of Pisces.¡±

    I had to double-blink at that. Next to the god of the harvest, Pisces was one of the greatest of the Small Gods- God of Fisherman. For him to be here, there was something large afoot.

    He must have been the one to send Decimus to guard the altar after it first burned. I glanced between them, but they didn¡¯t behave as though one gave the other orders. In fact, they were both staring at me intently.

    Take those eyes away. I¡¯m nothing special. I cleared my throat. ¡°A pleasure.¡±

    ¡°Marcella. Voice of Lepus.¡± The girl was chewing on the biscuit more fiercely. I didn¡¯t recognize the name. One of the small small gods, then.

    Apis leaned in. ¡°Prey animals,¡± he said. ¡°For every hunter, there is the hunted.¡±

    I glanced between Marcella and Gaius. They seemed to be getting along well enough. Perhaps she didn¡¯t represent the fish.

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    The woman with the long braid down her back still didn¡¯t look up. ¡°Everyone¡¯s introduced themselves,¡± said Marcella. ¡°Do you mind?¡±

    She finally looked up. She had a lovely face, round and smooth, although she was perhaps a little older than me. Now that she was no longer covering the paper, I could see what she had been writing. It was a hand-written pamphlet.

    THE LAW IS LYING TO YOU!

    They will kill the gods- who else will they destroy?

    DEMAND HONESTY!

    THE SPIRE MUST BE CRACKED!

    At my gaze, she covered the paper with an arm. I watched the ink smear as she began to speak. ¡°Prisca. I am the Voice of Carmen.¡± Her eyes flared with what might have been impatience. ¡°She represents song, verse, beauty in word. Not that many appreciate her these days.¡±

    ¡°My pleasure,¡± I said. Before I could continue, she was speaking again.

    ¡°You, of course, are Andrena¡¯s helper.¡± Her voice was dripping with disdain. ¡°We are wasting time speaking to you. Your time would be better spent inside the Spire, forcing Cabellus to admit to his collusion with the law.¡±

    I can¡¯t explain why I glanced over at Apis first. These were his people, of a fashion. I was panicked. Yet his face was just as blank.

    ¡°How do you-¡±

    ¡°You think we get no news? You¡¯ve been spreading it all over the city.¡± Her voice was dripping in resentment. ¡°You came to speak with us last. As always. As everyone. Yet we are the ones in danger.¡±

    ¡°Andrena¡¯s temple was burned! She was the one killed!¡± Well, her voice was killed. I still thought she was being rather unfair.

    ¡°Our altar was burned, too. Yet we are the ones arrested and hunted. Celeres has done nothing and yet she must run.¡± The quill in her hand bent under the pressure before Gaius, reaching over, forced her to put it down on the table.

    ¡°We¡¯re all distressed,¡± he said.

    ¡°You¡¯re afraid to go into the spire,¡± I said, still angry. ¡°Yet you want me to go in? The last Voice of Andrena got burned. Even if I was- which I¡¯m not!- you think I should just throw myself in?¡± Every time I said the denial, it sounded weaker. The voices didn¡¯t even respond this time.

    ¡°You have a sword.¡± Marcella was twitching. ¡°You could-¡±

    ¡°We encourage nothing.¡± Ludo tapped out the pipe. I was holding back a mighty sneeze. It felt like I was back in the inn, rude patrons and all. ¡°Although some of us would like you to represent us in the Spire. You have a week left. Plenty of time.¡±

    ¡°You would say that.¡± Prisca glared at Ludo, then grabbed the quill and peeled her arm off of the smeared pamphlet.

    ¡°If you¡¯re so angry at Andrena, why are you writing pamphlets about her?¡±

    ¡°No one will listen to pamphlets about Celeres!¡± Her writing was making jabs and holes in the parchment. ¡°I do what I must.¡±

    Celeres seemed like she was very popular, if she already had altars in temples for the major gods. Likely many people would support a movement for her safety. I didn¡¯t mention my thoughts on the matter.

    ¡°Let¡¯s start over.¡± I coughed. ¡°I¡¯m trying to find out what happened. The truth. If the Voice of Cabellus is responsible, don¡¯t you want me to have all the evidence before I pursue him? I can go to the Spire and find him guilty.¡±

    ¡°You need no further evidence. His element is fire. Everything has burned. He¡¯s putting his name on it. He knows no one will convict him. The entire city is in his pocket!¡± That was from Prisca.

    I glanced at the rest of the table. Ludo said nothing. Marcella took another loud bite of her biscuit.

    Only Gaius responded. ¡°Nothing wrong with learning more,¡± he said. ¡°It will all point back to him. The stronger the evidence, the less they can doubt. He was awful bold to take a stab at Andrena.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re getting old and lazy,¡± snarled Prisca. ¡°You only want to eat your anchovies and nap.¡±

    ¡°Let her ask her questions. She will learn what she must.¡±

    I looked between the two of them.

    ¡°Please,¡± said Duran. ¡°Miss Elysia is scary. She¡¯ll never let someone get away if they did something. Back at the Inn, she once-¡±

    I reached out a hand. He didn¡¯t need to keep going. ¡°That was one time.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± said Apis. ¡°I watched her yell at the guards on the Infamy, just to try and find some missing boys. She would never let the Voice of Cabellus get away with such a crime, if he is guilty.¡±

    ¡°That was an extenuating circumstance.¡±

    The table had all turned to look at me. ¡°You¡¯ll truly fight for Andrena?¡± said Prisca. ¡°For all of us?¡±

    ¡°We were trying to save Letterboys on the Infamy,¡± said Duran, earnestly. ¡°Miss Elysia cares about Celeres, too.¡±

    The most generous reading of events possible, from Duran¡¯s mouth. I tried to cover my surprise.

    ¡°I was brought here to bring justice. If you don¡¯t wish to help, then you don¡¯t need to. But I don¡¯t enjoy you accusing me of ignoring my duty.¡± She¡¯s right, though, isn¡¯t she? All I wanted to do was ignore this mission. Here were people who really cared, who had known the Voice of Andrena. Next to me was Apis, who had been raised by her. Who was I? Just a woman who had eaten a bad pickle. I swallowed. The only way out was through.

    I glanced towards the sword at Duran¡¯s side. It didn¡¯t seem like much, if I ended up having to fight the Voice of Cabellus. He was a god of war, after all.

    ¡°I believe her.¡± Decimus seemed like he¡¯d believe most anything. ¡°Andrena¡¯s always seemed like a clever goddess. The last Voice knew how the dice were rolling.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± I tightened my hands on the teacup. ¡°On the day that everything happened¡­did she say anything? Seem as though she was worried?¡±

    ¡°There isn¡¯t much to say,¡± said Decimus. ¡°We were deciding who to send and who to keep from the Spire. The Voice of Andrena wasn¡¯t with us. Not for long, anyway.¡±

    ¡°She wasn¡¯t?¡± I frowned. ¡°I thought she visited frequently.¡±

    ¡°She came to Northside, yes, but she only came to the Temple to say hello. Based on the timing, she was out at the lighthouse when the altar burst into flame.¡±

 21. Northern Delicacies

    ¡°The Lighthouse?¡±

    The Voices weren¡¯t in agreement. It was the way they avoided each other¡¯s gaze, the constant shifting. The only steady phase here was the sound of orders going out, the waitress moving through the tea-house. How much time had passed down here?

    I could still feel the heat in my face from the argument with Prisca. She was ignoring me steadily now, her head bowed over her pamphlets again. She must have been working to help the protests around the Spire. They had been going strong again today, even as the festival continued.

    Marcella, the other female voice, seemed unsure of who to trust. She pulled into herself, eyes darting around and eating biscuits so rapidly that another waitress bowed in to replace the plate. She was only a few years older than Duran. Her nails were bitten to the quick.

    Next to her, the Voice of Ludo, god of Chance, didn¡¯t seem worried at all. His brows climbed, slightly enough that it might have been the smoke. ¡°No one mentioned it yet?¡±

    In between Marcella and Prisca, an older man stared at me, thoughtful. His lips stayed closed, concealed by his massive beard. Gaius- the voice of fisherman. The strongest god represented here. If you don¡¯t count Andrena, that is.

    ¡°It was hardly that serious!¡±

    The outburst wasn¡¯t from any of the voices. I turned, surprised, to stare at Apis. His eyes were locked on the teacup in his hands. He hadn¡¯t actually drank any. ¡°You- you shouldn¡¯t imply anything about the last Voice,¡± he muttered. He managed to drink some, cheeks red.

    ¡°You should imply something about the last Voice,¡± I said. ¡°In fact, make it a list. All the somethings you can manage.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing to imply,¡± snapped Prisca. ¡°We all knew it.¡± She swiped through another sentence, quill dipping into ink again. ¡°Besides, it¡¯s not as if she wasn¡¯t allowed.¡± She glanced up. ¡°Unless I forgot something about Andrena?¡±

    ¡°Well- it¡¯s not- she didn¡¯t announce anything. Officially.¡± said Apis. He coughed.

    ¡°You don¡¯t like sailors, is that it?¡± said Gaius.

    ¡°That¡¯s not it at all. I respect the profession completely.¡±

    ¡°So it¡¯s just commoners,¡± said Marcella. Another biscuit snapped between her teeth. She¡¯d nearly emptied another plate. ¡°You think she should have only selected from the nobility!¡±

    ¡°No! I think she had every right. The Voice was her own woman, and-¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t like what he was whispering in her ear,¡± said Ludo. ¡°Thought he was giving her dangerous inclinations.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Can¡¯t say you were wrong, looking back on it.¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Apis put the cup down. ¡°Stop putting words in my mouth!¡±

    I hadn¡¯t seen him this agitated before. The back of his neck was completely flushed now, and he was avoiding eye contact with everyone at the table.

    ¡°Why did you dislike him, then?¡± I said. Who was it, that inhabited the Lighthouse? Some sort of seductive, political monster? Who fished and represented the common people?

    Well. Good for her, I supposed.

    ¡°I hate fermented shark,¡± muttered Apis. ¡°Ever since she started with him, it¡¯s all the temple would speak about. Some delicacy of the north. Whenever I visited, she forced me to eat it. Said it was to honor me.¡± He¡¯d gone a little grey.

    I could picture exactly the dish. I hadn¡¯t made it myself, of course- no one asked for that in an inn- but I¡¯d had it a few times, when my family had hosted diplomats in my childhood. The first sign was the stink, coming through the doorway. It would be held on an elaborate tray, chopped up into delicate cubes or, once, shapes of flowers.

    I had never quite developed a taste for it, but it was meant to be a great honor to eat it. As such, I¡¯d gotten very good at smiling through the dry heaves. Surprisingly it had served me well even outside of noble life.

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    The table had gone silent. ¡°You didn¡¯t mind the notions about giving Small Gods a voice on the council?¡± That came from Ludo.

    ¡°They say he used to be a rider for Cabellus, you know. I think he got tired of Marcia not dancing to his tune.¡± Prisca still wouldn¡¯t look up.

    ¡°I heard he only got the position at the light-house because he had connections up high in the government,¡± added Marcella. ¡°Everyone knows he hardly has the competence to do it himself!¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡± I held up both hands. ¡°I don¡¯t need to hear any more about this man.¡± I coughed. ¡°Well, a name would be nice.¡±

    Before anyone could respond, Duran finally processed the conversation. He sat straight up, eyes wide. ¡°Wait. The last Voice. She was- she had a dalliance? She didn¡¯t even marry him?¡±

    I gave him a biscuit, in the hopes he would stop slowing the conversation down. ¡°But-¡± he frowned. ¡°She was old.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t typically stop people,¡± I said.

    Duran stared at the pattern of the biscuit in his hand, which looked like it had been stamped with a biscuit maker (it depicted the old symbol of the empire, which may or may not have been treason) as if it had the answers. I turned back to the table before he could ask any additional questions.

    ¡°Amatus,¡± said Gaius. He leaned forward and took another sip of his tea. His eyes were still in that considering gaze, never leaving me. I tried not to squirm. Why do you care? I hoped he didn¡¯t mind that Apis had just insulted pickled shark. Did sharks fall under the reign of his god? ¡°Never caught his last name. If you can¡¯t find him, ask for the lighthouse-keeper. We¡¯ve only got the two. He¡¯s the old one.¡±

    Well. I felt a brief wave of insult in the spirit of the last Voice. ¡°Surely he isn¡¯t that bad.¡±

    The dead silence after that comment spoke for me. ¡°We had another question,¡± I said. ¡°If you¡¯re still willing to help.¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± said Prisca. ¡°We already risked ourselves speaking to you. What¡¯s another few comments, dragging us in further? You won¡¯t turn us in, will you? Surely-¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll answer.¡± Ludo leaned forward. ¡°Make it quick. I have business elsewhere.¡±

    Somehow I hadn¡¯t considered they had anything else to do. I watched them, around the table, and decided they were probably lying and simply sick of me. They had other topics to discuss, like how to foment disorder and what they disliked about the Spire.

    That was fine by me. I wasn¡¯t part of this group by any standard.

    ¡°Letterboys.¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡± Ludo¡¯s expression was still unmoving.

    ¡°Where do they get their uniforms,¡± I said. ¡°Clean them. Keep them. That sort of thing.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s easy.¡± That was from Marcella. She spoke even as the others turned to her, giving her disapproving looks. She dipped a biscuit into tea, hand trembling. ¡°They¡¯re supplied out of the Laundresses guild building in Central.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± I frowned. ¡°I thought-¡± The Laundresses were a terrifying force. One of the strongest guilds around. Just to join as a member, you had to have serious bona-fides. Seniority from near-infancy. Not to mention hands of steel. After the Weeks of Stink (actually the fifteen days of stink) when they had refused to wash any of the Lawmaker¡¯s clothing, everyone had quietly accepted the guild was here to stay.

    Personally, I thought the lawmakers should have simply washed their own clothes. But that was why I didn¡¯t have the sort of mind suitable for leadership.

    ¡°Well,¡± I finally said, ¡°I didn¡¯t think they officially aligned themselves with any gods.¡± That was the quickest way to get yourself dismissed from guildship. The guilds were meant to be neutral. If they were found to be god-aligned, they would be considered a type of priest. This would mean any of their workers would be re-classified under the temple, and subsequently forced to deal with double the paperwork. As this was a fate worse than death, no one would chance it.

    ¡°They don¡¯t.¡± Gaius lifted one brow. When I stared back, he shrugged. ¡°Someone has to deliver the laundry.¡±

    Oh.

    I stared at the tea in my hand, at the teahouse beyond. I had thought I was approaching this mystery with all of my knowledge. The straightforward competence I¡¯d developed. Well, somewhat. At least in the inn I¡¯d learned how to get work done without worrying about who knew who, and what was working with what. It was all about how to get my work done the fastest.

    Yet as soon as I¡¯d come back to the Capital, I¡¯d lost all that. Here I was again, assuming everything was political.

    Once again, it was the simplest answer. Who else would deliver the laundry?

    You¡¯re a cook, Elysia. Think like it.

    I put down the tea and stood up, pushing the chair back. ¡°Thank you for your time,¡± I said. ¡°If there¡¯s anything else you need-¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Prisca said. ¡°I need quite a bit from you. First, challenge-¡±

    ¡°Anything else. Other than that,¡± I said. ¡°Let me know. I¡¯m sure among you, you¡¯d find me.¡±

    I suddenly missed the staff I¡¯d brought. I¡¯d left it behind in Apis¡¯s rooms. If I¡¯d been the old Elysia, I never would have. What was I thinking, relying on Duran to defend me? He was a reedy fourteen year old.

    That did it. After we finished in this district, we¡¯d go straight back to Uptown so I could get that staff back.

    If I had to drub every suspicious character from here to the Southern District, I would. I¡¯d already allowed myself to get too distracted here.

    ¡°Where next?¡± Apis stuck close to my side as we climbed up the stairs and into the light again, finally free of that miserable smoke from Decimus¡¯s pipe.

    I coughed, clearing my throat and trying to step away from his hopeful stare. ¡°Where else? We¡¯re seeing if that lighthouse-keeper actually set her on fire.¡±

 22. Tilting at Seagulls

    It was still mid-afternoon when we emerged. The roads were still thick with workers. It seemed that many had stopped for an afternoon lunch; some were napping underneath awnings, while others were hiding behind pillars and attempting to look busy. I joined in the throng, heading towards the very edge of the harbor.

    The harbor of Northside was the least busy section in the city. Southside got occasional private deliveries (only the best, of course, and too elaborate to be trusted with the harbor district) and the Central district sometimes got overflow traffic. Northside, meanwhile, was rocky, too busy, and full of outflow from the tanneries. The only ships you saw on the harbor were the few fisherman brave enough to market ¡°rare fish¡± in the markets.

    One dodged us as we approached the small dock, his string of fish staring at me with their multitude of eyes. Duran stepped forward, mouth gaping. ¡°They¡¯re- they¡¯re-¡±

    ¡°That¡¯ll be from the dyers,¡± I said. ¡°Keep moving.¡±

    ¡°Does it change the taste?¡± He was moving in the wrong direction. Following the fish. I sighed and turned.

    ¡°Why do they have extra eyes?¡±

    When in doubt, lie. ¡°They must have been blessed by Pisces.¡± Then, because I felt especially bad-tempered. ¡°Ask Gaius about it next time you see him. I¡¯m sure he can ask his god.¡±

    Duran brightened. ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°I think, technically, you would need to ask the god of small fish. That would be Pisciculi.¡± Apis was already several paces down from us. He was kneeling down and looking at the dock. ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone¡¯s been maintaining this. It¡¯s rotting.¡±

    Of course there was a god of small fish. ¡°Those looked like medium fish to me.¡±

    Someone had been maintaining the dock, when we finally made it there. They had helpfully thrown a woven carpet over the largest hole. When it had started to sink down, they had added a second carpet.

    The trap was only revealed when Duran stepped on the second carpet and suddenly disappeared from view. I had to drag him out by the shoulder, sword and all. When he finally made it to the solid part of the dock, he stayed on his knees, gripping at the wood like he¡¯d never seen solid ground before.

    When we finally made it to the edge of the dock, I stared out at the water. The single island in the water was an insult to the name of islands everywhere. It was more like a peninsula that had, after years of a war of attrition, finally given up custody of its tip. At high tide, the rest of the peninsula would emerge, covered in seaweed and stinking.

    Now it was a medium-ish tide, so I could see mostly water. Whenever the water pulled back for a wave, I could see crabs dashing for safety from the sun. The air was reluctant to show anything but sticky wind. Overhead, even the seagulls didn¡¯t want to circle. They were stalking around on the exposed rock of the peninsula in between the island and the harbor, running from rock to rock as the waves tried to dislodge them. Lazy birds.

    I could only see a few boats, all of them too far to call over.

    There was only one solution for it. I turned back to my companions and leaned down to start tying up my skirts. ¡°We¡¯re walking.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You heard me,¡± I said. ¡°Might want to roll up your cuffs.¡±

    It didn¡¯t take much to tie my skirt up around my knees. I did it every week to finish my laundry, and half the women around here worked that way anyway. The roads got intermittently muddy and there was no reason to get your hem muddy.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    I could see the bottom of the harbor from the dock, even though the mud. It could only be to my shins or so.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding,¡± said Duran, nervous. ¡°I thought I wasn¡¯t supposed to-¡±

    I was already stepping off the dock. When I finally hit ground, my knees were the first to react. I felt the silt impact me all the way up to my spine. ¡°Ugh.¡± I stumbled back and leaned on the dock, breathing. I shouldn¡¯t be jumping off of docks anymore.

    ¡°I told you!¡± Duran leaned forward, his face pale. ¡°Madam Elysia-¡±

    I waved a hand impatiently at him. ¡°Get down here! We¡¯re wasting sunlight!¡± If I finished this before the end of Flight¡¯s Feast, I could escape back to the inn before anyone made me act as Andrena¡¯s Voice. Time was ticking.

    I turned to wade through the water as the twin splashes of Duran and Apis followed me. The water was up to my thighs, soaking through my skirt. The path to shallower water at the peak of the peninsula was clear. Here, past the wave-break, the water was cool but not difficult to manage. The waves only gently pressed at me.

    Behind me, I felt a hand grabbing at my shoulder. With each movement of the waves, Duran nearly toppled over. I¡¯d forgotten he had a body-weight equivalent to the average small dog.

    I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

    ¡°Duran,¡± I said. ¡°If I help you now, you will not mention this again.¡±

    He was splashing desperately. His head only came up to my shoulder- the water was up to his hips. He was barely staying up. I didn¡¯t want to fish him out again. ¡°I would never, Madam Elysia!¡±

    I leaned over. ¡°Climb on.¡±

    I hadn¡¯t grown out of pig-a-back rides, because I had never been silly enough for them in the first place. I had always been a sturdy, determined child. Except for the time I ran away from home, of course. And a few other incidents.

    Those not included, I didn¡¯t consider this silly, either. It was entirely a course of not letting Duran drown. His hands were clammy as he nearly strangled me.

    ¡°Thank you!¡± he cheered, his mouth directly next to my ear.

    I jumped, nearly dislodging him. ¡°Don¡¯t- speak quieter.¡±

    As he re-adjusted his hands, he nearly choked me. Up ahead, Apis was already halfway to the lighthouse. He¡¯d stopped to defend a crab from a seagull. The seagull was winning.

    I watched as he fell backwards, the seagull poking at his face. He held up his hands, the seagull beating at his hands. The crab had grabbed onto his collar.

    These were my partners in this investigation. A boy who couldn¡¯t wade through water and a man who thought a crab needed his help. They both defended your honor. What does that say?

    I should have brought the staff.

    I took strides as quickly as I could manage, the waves fighting against me. The rocks were slippery underneath my boots. Water had gotten into my socks. I¡¯d need to re-wash my laundry.

    At least I¡¯d be visiting the Laundresses Guild soon enough.

    ¡°Duran, sword!¡±

    I could feel him half-choking me again, clumsy child, as he leaned over and grabbed the sword. I leaned over to give him a better angle as he swung it. The bird, having a better sense of survival than most people, flew off with a vengeful caw.

    ¡°Sword away!¡±

    With another shing! The sword was re-sheathed. I leaned forward and grabbed the crab off of Apis¡¯s collar, where it was pinching at his neck. After a moment of thought, I put it in my apron pocket.

    ¡°You-¡±

    ¡°Crab is delicious,¡± I said. I frowned. It was from the harbor. Who knew what was in the water here? Then again, I¡¯d grown up here. It hadn¡¯t done anything wrong to me, had it? I¡¯d eaten plenty of seafood.

    I thought again of where I was and how I¡¯d turned out.

    Well. I shouldn¡¯t give up free seafood, at any cost. Duran might appreciate it. There was little enough of it near the inn. I turned away and resumed stomping towards the lighthouse.

    Whoever had built it hadn¡¯t figured out the basics- that was, the direction ¡°up¡±. It was distinctly leaning towards the city, uneven. There were no supports, although someone had put in more windows on the leaning side as if they were hoping removing some of the stone might fix the weight problem.

    The light up-top wasn¡¯t lit at the moment. Out front, where a few scrubby bushes grew and a single goat grazed, a pair of chairs had been set out. In one of them, a man sat. I finally emerged from the water, dripping, and pulled off my boots so I could wring out my socks.

    ¡°Ho there!¡±

    He didn¡¯t reply.

    ¡°Hello?¡± Asked Duran.

    Apis strode forward further, ignoring his socks. ¡°Sir?¡±

    At his question, the man finally snorted awake. He was old, that was for sure. His forehead was liver-spotted, his nose prominent. He had a full head of gray hair that had been pulled back with a tie in the style of western sailors.

    He pushed himself up on an elbow and squinted in between us. ¡°I won¡¯t pay for anything else that damn goat¡¯s eaten,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ve told you once and I¡¯ll tell you again. She¡¯s her own woman!¡±

 23. A Boy of Taste

    ¡°We aren¡¯t here about the goat,¡± said Apis. ¡°Are you sober?¡±

    I hadn¡¯t seen him this stern before. It looked like he was a little constipated, really. I wrung a few more drops of water out of my socks before managing to walk over. The man sighed and lay back.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, really,¡± he said. It must be Amatus. I remembered Gaius¡¯s comment- only two of them, and he¡¯s the old one. ¡°Everyone¡¯s been checking up on me. You don¡¯t need to meddle too, boy. They¡¯ve already got you by the-¡± He glanced over at me. ¡°¡­back of the neck. Don¡¯t tell me they¡¯ve already got a new priestess? She¡¯s not even cold in the ground!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a priestess!¡± I put my hands up. ¡°What about me looks like a priestess?¡±

    ¡°Well, you look angry,¡± said Amatus.

    The goat had wandered over and was trying to eat my apron. I could feel the crab attempting to escape my apron. The sticky sea breeze had escaped the very top of the water and was now attempting to climb over the the dirt mound we all optimistically called an island. It half-moved my tied skirts before giving up again.

    ¡°We¡¯re here to investigate,¡± I said. ¡°I was told you were one of the last to speak to Voice Marcia.¡±

    ¡°Suppose so,¡± said the man. He scratched at his face. He was growing what might have been called a beard, in kinder times. ¡°Want to come inside?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t want to be overheard?¡±

    ¡°The goat¡¯s going to get the boy.¡±

    I turned. Sure enough, Duran was losing to a goat. I sighed. He had grown up in the country. Why wasn¡¯t this one of his skills?

    ¡°Right.¡±

    We all trod in, soaking and dripping, to the lighthouse. I had to bend to get in through the doorway, which seemed to have suffered most from the leaning effect. Half of it was propped up with a large piece of what must have been Capital style driftwood (a piece of a wrecked boat) and the other half was covered with a limp curtain.

    ¡°Keeps most of the wind out,¡± offered Amatus.

    Inside, it looked like the curtain hadn¡¯t kept much else out. The lighthouse had been covered in a neat patina of dust and grime. It was easy to see where Amatus spent much of his time. The only clean parts of the inside of the lighthouse were the smudges around the window, where a round section had been cleared away, the sections of the bench seat just the right size for two people to sit, and a few spaces wide enough for a mug and plate.

    I didn¡¯t look towards the nook where a bed had been placed. I didn¡¯t need to know that much about Voice Marcia.

    ¡°Do you get pirates out here?¡± That was from Duran, who had gone straight to what looked like a weapons rack at the back of the room. His eyes were wide as he put his hand up to a battle-axe nearly as ridiculously large as the sword at his hip. ¡°This is huge!¡±

    ¡°Not anymore,¡± said Amatus.

    ¡°Not since you got rid of them all?¡± Said Duran.

    ¡°Not since the harbor dried up. Not anything worth pirating anymore.¡± Amatus hacked a large wad of spit and cast it down on the floor. ¡°Back in my day, we made things worth pirating, here.¡±

    I tried to think of what we¡¯d ever produced in the capitol that was worth stealing. As the heart of an empire, we had always been an import city. ¡°What were the pirates taking, exactly?¡±

    ¡°Well, nobles, mostly.¡± Amatus wandered over to a squat stove in the corner and knelt to start a fire, moving a cast-iron pot over with a thump. ¡°Back when ransoms were actually worth something. When this country was a real country!¡±

    ¡°Thank Andrena that we¡¯re at peace now,¡± said Apis. ¡°The nobility is much more stable now that we don¡¯t have to worry about entire family lines being stolen in transit.¡±

    ¡°Ha! And what good does that do? Back in the day, you had to be real polite, if you wanted to survive. Not like these young nobles. Running their mouths, speaking ill on the temples, speaking ill of each other.¡± He muttered more, rummaging through cabinets. ¡°You want some shark, boy?¡±

    Apis looked away. ¡°Erm..¡±

    ¡°Know it¡¯s your favorite,¡± added Amatus. ¡°I¡¯ve been saving some.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°Just the tea. Thanks.¡±

    He stared at me like he¡¯d forgotten I was there. After a moment, he replaced the jar. ¡°Well. Hmph. That kind of behavior, exactly what I was speaking about. Would have beheaded a noble, back in the day.¡±

    Duran stared at him for a moment longer, then took his hand off of the handle of the battle-axe. ¡°Sir.¡±

    ¡°Boy!¡±

    ¡°Were you¡­ a pirate?¡±

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    ¡°Sailed for the united independent forces!¡± He finally lit the flame of the pot-bellied stove. The chimney hacked out puffs of smoke through an uneven connection until he raised the fire poker and thumped it once, twice, forcing it back into alignment. ¡°Not pirates!¡±

    They were not pirates in the same way I was not the Voice of Andrena. Working on the barest of technicalities. As such, I was inclined to believe him. ¡°Stop staring at the man, Duran. He¡¯s obviously remembering a hard time in his life.¡±

    I sat down hurriedly. ¡°Anyway, enough about the past. We¡¯re here to speak about the Voice Marcia.¡±

    At that, Amatus actually seemed to tense up slightly. I tried to watch him in the dim light of the lighthouse¡¯s main room- he had no lamps, only the light filtering in through the windows. Was he behaving suspiciously? Or was he simply sad because his lover had passed away suddenly?

    ¡°Ah,¡± he said. ¡°Let me finish the tea, then.¡±

    The silence was oppressive as we waited for the kettle to boil. In such a small room, the fire heated it more quickly than the water, and I could feel sweat working down the back of my neck. I cleared my throat. ¡°I was told you used to worship Cabellus?¡±

    I couldn¡¯t see signs of any god, in here. Only the most sparse of decorations, and the assortment of weapons.

    ¡°I sailed for the United Independent Forces,¡± he said. He reached into his tunic, and I recoiled back, afraid he might show me a tattoo or something that might force me to stare into the nest of coiled hair springing from his chest. Instead, he withdrew a thick leather cord and dangled it in front of me.

    Upon it hung two figures in silver. One, a rearing horse. The other, a merman with a spear in hand. ¡°Pisces and Cabellus, joint gods. One to keep you floating. One to make sure the other man sinks.¡± He pulled back and dropped the leather cord again. ¡°These days, I mostly just thank the Beetle these old bones are still moving.¡±

    The kettle started to sing, and he turned away. He had a limp, I realized. It wasn¡¯t very noticeable, but it must be from his hip; his entire left leg slowed him.

    Only politeness made me accept the rough-made clay bowl he set in front of me, a few loose leaves dropped inside as he poured hot water over it. ¡°Not got enough cups,¡± he said. ¡°No one much visits.¡± He¡¯d given Apis the other cup- apparently the dislike only went one way- and had, it seemed, decided to bring out the fermented shark. Duran had received what looked like a storage box for fishing tackle- Amatus had thrown the actual tackle to the floor with little regard- and was having difficulty balancing it in his hands.

    I kept my mouth closed as he opened the jar and set it down. ¡°No need to be shy,¡± he said, proudly. ¡°In memory of Marci. She only wanted you to have the best.¡±

    Apis was a man approaching the gallows. He reached out a single shaking hand, mouth pressed into a single line. He hadn¡¯t inhaled. ¡°I¡¯ll only have a little,¡± he said. ¡°In repentance, I¡¯m not allowing myself to- to- it¡¯s not appropriate to enjoy things.¡±

    Even here, he couldn¡¯t lie. Not properly. How could such an honest man allow himself to lie so often? I would have stepped in and broken the illusion, but I was too amused.

    The pale white, fleshy cubes had been preserved in a glass jar brought all the way south from the north. They sat there, trembling, as Apis reached down with the single knife set upon the table. It was hand-carved, with elaborate designs in the steel. I thought of the comments about nobility and wondered which house it was a relic of.

    The knife pierced the flesh. I glanced over at Duran, wondering how he was doing.

    His eyes shone. ¡°Can I have some?¡±

    ¡°Ah!¡± Amatus grinned. ¡°A boy of taste!¡±

    As soon as Apis had retrieved the cube of shark from the jar, Amatus offered it to Duran. Duran picked out the largest piece he could, rotating it in front of his eyes. ¡°Wow,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ve never smelled anything like this before. It¡¯s so¡­ wow!¡±

    ¡°You, lady Priestess?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a Priestess,¡± I said. ¡°And I¡¯ve already eaten.¡±

    The crab had started to escape up part of my apron. I detached it from my apron strings and shoved it back into the pocket, ignoring the way it pinched through my hand. It would make a lovely soup later.

    Duran was chewing enthusiastically. Apis had swallowed his fermented shark whole.

    ¡°What exactly happened the last day you saw Voice Marcia?¡± I said.

    ¡°Well, it wasn¡¯t like I knew it was the last day.¡± Amatus was downcast. He scratched at his scruff again. ¡°We mostly just¡­¡± His eyes tracked to Duran. ¡°Well, it was our typical routine. I picked her up after I went to market. We spent some, ah, quality time together. Then we talked for a while, had dinner. I dropped her off on the shore, and she said she was going to go pray. After that¡­ well.¡±

    ¡°What did you speak about?¡±

    ¡°The usual, I suppose. She was worried about the upcoming election. Lots of pressure both ways.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Not that words from me are much impact. But I could be an ear for her.¡±

    ¡°Pressure about what?¡± That was from Apis. ¡°She had her position. Was it about expansions for the temple?¡±

    Amatus scoffed. ¡°No. Everyone would approve that. She knew it was a guaranteed majority.¡± He nodded towards the shark. ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t¡­¡±

    ¡°No, no. One was enough.¡±

    ¡°Well. Anyway, she was concerned about that new goddess. Celery? Celeren?¡±

    ¡°Celeres!¡± Duran had reached for another cube of shark. He, too, was ignoring his tea. A single leaf floated to the surface, forgotten. ¡°The postal goddess.¡±

    ¡°Yes, that one. She was petitioning to be tested as an upper god. Completely unprecedented, of course. Technically speaking, she wasn¡¯t even approved as a small god yet.¡±

    ¡°So who was pressuring her?¡±

    ¡°Celeres wanted to be an upper god, of course.¡± Amatus tapped his lip in thought. ¡°Ah, pretty sure most of the small gods were on her side. Although some of the larger ones were angry about it. Thought she was disturbing the order, or being too presumptuous?¡±

    ¡°What of the upper gods?¡± I leaned forward myself.

    ¡°Marcia wouldn¡¯t speak of them by name. Said it was too political.¡±

    ¡°But she mentioned them?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes,¡± Amatus chuckled. ¡°She said they were divided, too. Sounded like any argument, to my ears. Reminded me of my days at sea.¡±

    ¡°What were the arguments?¡±

    ¡°Some of them didn¡¯t want her to try,¡± Amatus said. ¡°The others thought she should try and fail. Stop the other small gods from complaining.¡±

    I turned to Apis. ¡°What is this test?¡± I only had heard of it as an election. Something where the gods worked among themselves.

    ¡°To become an upper god, you have to have enough worshippers,¡± said Apis. ¡°They would have tested her blood on the holy scales. Not that it matters now. The Voice of Celeres wasn¡¯t in the Spire when they closed it for contemplation.¡±

    ¡°She didn¡¯t say which upper gods were for and against, then?¡±

    ¡°Does it matter? None of them really cared about that girl. The only person that took her seriously was Marci.¡± That came from Amatus, again. Where he had been briefly amused, I watched as he leaned back to stare out at the low tide.

    It lapped in, lapped out. Beyond, I could see nothing but the sun glimmering off of the water and the quarantine ship. ¡°Have you heard from Celeres? Seen anything of where she¡¯s hiding?¡±

    ¡°No one speaks to me,¡± said Amatus. ¡°I¡¯m not important. I¡¯m just a washed up old salt.¡±

 24. Seaweed Stew

    The tide had risen. We stood at the edge of the island, watching the fishermen haul in their nets and the waves lap at the ever-shrinking patch of earth. I tried not to groan in defeat. Across the way, the harbor seemed too-distant.

    I couldn¡¯t be trapped here, with an ancient lighthouse-keeper. Not tonight. Even Apis¡¯s horrible apartment would be better. For all of its faults, it didn¡¯t smell of fish so strongly.

    ¡°Ah,¡± said Amatus. ¡°Suppose we talked too long.¡±

    He wandered over to the chair, where the goat was doing her best to gnaw at the armrest, and shooed her away to slump down and close his eyes. ¡°Best of luck.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you have a boat?¡±

    ¡°Not anymore,¡± he said.

    ¡°What do you mean, not anymore?¡± Apis seemed even more distressed than I was. He was still a little green from eating the shark. ¡°You- just last week, you went out to market to bring Marcia over! How have you been getting food?¡±

    ¡°I can fish. Besides, the goat¡¯s always here if I don¡¯t get a good catch.¡±

    The goat bleated. She didn¡¯t seem particularly worried about it. Another lazy breeze caught off the ocean. It brought with it the stink of the city, so strong it could have been a physical blow to the head.

    I grimaced. There was only one thing to do.

    ¡°Right. We¡¯re flagging down some fisherman.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Been awful busy at the lighthouse, it seems,¡± said the man who¡¯d finally seen my arms waving in desperation. He had a long pole instead of an oar, navigating the silty bottom of the harbor, and a wiggling net full of fish with too many eyes and not enough scales. I tossed one into my apron to keep the crab occupied. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen this many visitors for months.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean, this many visitors?¡± I tried to steady myself as he hit a rock with the pole. Even though it wasn¡¯t far at all to the dock, with our combined weight he seemed to be struggling to keep up momentum. Every time a slight wave hit the boat, it struggled to stay afloat.

    ¡°Port!¡± He barked. Duran scuttled to the proper side. ¡°Ah, well, Amatus is mostly alone out there. For the last few years, only Marcia- uh, may her honey ever-flow- visited.¡±

    ¡°The other lighthouse-keeper doesn¡¯t have many friends?¡±

    The fisherman didn¡¯t respond to that, just spat over the side of the boat.

    Another swell came rushing over the side of the peninsula. ¡°Starboard!¡±

    Duran rushed over to the other side. The fish flopped rapidly, trying to find the few puddles of water in the bottom of the boat. Apis groaned. How was he already sea-sick?

    I grabbed for the edge of the boat. ¡°Who else has visited, then?¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± said the fisherman. ¡°The guards. A whole lot of them. Three different sets.¡± He pushed us further along. We glided for a long few moments before the current caught us and set us off-course, forcing him to push us again through the silt. ¡°Then there were a few letters- I didn¡¯t even know the postal service came out here- and the priests.¡±

    ¡°How do you even know this,¡± muttered Apis. He¡¯d leaned over the side now. The fisherman leaned over and grabbed him by the shoulder.

    ¡°Stand up! You¡¯re putting the balance wrong!¡±

    We were within jumping distance of the dock. I briefly considered abandoning ship entirely. If I was a little younger, and a little more spry¡­

    ¡°Just a minute more,¡± muttered Apis. ¡°I¡¯m trying to get some fresh air.¡±

    If he wanted fresh air, he¡¯d need to go to a different city. Another swell came. As the wave crested, it caught Apis in the face. He fell back, tossing the boat to the side. The fisherman swore heavily. Duran darted to the side, trying to even out the balance. I swayed in response.

    Another push of the pole, and we were finally at the dock. As the fisherman threw over a rope, I jumped over to the safety of land. Or, well, land-adjacent wood. It briefly bent underneath my boot, but stayed strong.

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    ¡°I do want to know,¡± I said, before the fisherman could run. ¡°How do you know who¡¯s been visiting the lighthouse?¡±

    ¡°All the best fishing¡¯s next to the island,¡± said the man, stroking his whiskers. ¡°Where do you think he puts his trash? The fish love that stuff.¡± He sniffed.

    I reached down and removed the fish from the crab¡¯s claws, then tossed it back in the boat. ¡°Thank you for your time.¡±

    ¡°Tips?¡±

    I dragged Duran off before he could offer the man any of his pocket change- if he had any left- and turned towards the rest of the city.

    <hr>

    ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t want to waste money on a coach,¡± said Apis, who was sitting next to me as we rattled across the bridge over the channel of the Sometimes.

    ¡°I¡¯ve already walked too much today,¡± I said. It was a busy coach, crammed with people ready to attend the festival, although it would likely get miserable later when everyone was done with work. Now it was mostly older people and children, along with a few souls clearly on business. I wasn¡¯t sure what we counted as.

    The coach-driver had given us dirty looks as we boarded, sniffing at our feet- still stinking of seawater- but he¡¯d taken Apis¡¯s money.

    Across from me, Duran had been pinned in between an older woman who seemed to be knitting even as we rattled across cobbles- he was dodging the needles every time they bounced- and a man who was carrying a large vat of what looked like steaming soup. He turned, asking the man about what was in it, as I leaned in to make sure my conversation with Apis wasn¡¯t overheard.

    ¡°Do you actually think the upper gods were involved?¡±

    He didn¡¯t respond. I had to clear my throat and say it again before he finally looked over at me.

    ¡°What? No.¡±

    ¡°Ursus said he wanted to eat the smaller gods, once. Surely they aren¡¯t all good.¡± I frowned. ¡°Besides, Cabellus is the god of fire. If anyone was going to commit arson¡­¡±

    I had been assuming it was something small. Some kids playing a prank gone wrong. More and more, I felt like Andrena had thrown me into a deep pool of political drama. Thanks. I probably would have been better off with the poisoned pickles.

    Before I could finish my sentence, I felt my head pressed up against the wall of the coach. Apis¡¯s hand was covering my mouth.

    I raised my eyebrows and grabbed at his wrist, pushing it away.

    ¡°You can¡¯t speak like that in public!¡± he whispered. ¡°Don¡¯t you know where you are?¡±

    Well, I was fairly sure that was what he said. He was whispering, and it was a loud coach- across the way, the man was telling Duran it was a competition soup for the festival, made with fresh-caught fish- so he could have also said hold new coal fuel mark. Since that didn¡¯t make any sense, I figured he was warning me about the corruption all around us.

    ¡°Obviously I know,¡± I said. ¡°Do you think he¡¯s responsible?¡±

    Our country had once been the host of a majestic empire, a symbol of war and conquest and triumph (or, if you asked the right people, a bunch of meddling idiots with nothing better to do). As such, Cabellus had enjoyed a few very profitable decades before the empire came crashing down and everyone decided to focus on more useful gods, like ones for hunting and family instead. Our capital, as the slowest-moving city in the country, was still mostly his domain.

    The guards, for instance, were majority worshippers of Cabellus. Some of the navy worshipped the squid goddess, instead, but only very pious ones. Even the lawmakers, who should really worship the Beetle, usually kept two altars- one for the Beetle, who moved the world, and one for Cabellus, who made sure the world still belonged to us.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see why he would,¡± said Apis. ¡°It¡¯s not like the- it¡¯s not like he would have been threatened. He¡¯s the god.¡± He made a vague praying motion. ¡°Other than the beetle, of course. And Andrena, may her hive ever-buzz.¡±

    The coach came to a screeching stop. He fell onto me, shoulder warm against my own as I turned to stare out the door.

    ¡°Not a stop!¡± shouted the coachman. He leaned out of the door and waved his cane. A horse was in the road. I leaned back as they argued and turned to Apis.

    ¡°What if he was challenged, though? There are already altars to Celeres everywhere. Could he have been worried about her? It sounds like Marcia was supporting her.¡±

    ¡°Even if he was against it, he would never have struck against Andrena.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    Apis gave me a look of great disappointment. ¡°You don¡¯t remember any of the annals of the gods?¡±

    It had been a good many years, and several drinks of mead, since I¡¯d been to temple school. I raised both brows at him. Across from us, Duran was being forced to try the soup. ¡°No. Will you give me a summary?¡±

    ¡°Cabellus is Andrena¡¯s godly husband,¡± said Apis. ¡°If he was involved, he wouldn¡¯t just be thrown from the spire. If it was proven he¡¯d told his Voice to do any of it, the goddess Andrena herself could take revenge. It would be disaster.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Besides. The current Voice of Cabellus has always seemed¡­¡± he coughed. ¡°Never-mind.¡±

    After that, no matter how I pressed him, he wouldn¡¯t tell me his personal opinion on Cabellus. ¡°So you still think it¡¯s the postal goddess,¡± I said, sitting back.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think the Voice of Celeres did anything,¡± said Apis, always unwilling to commit. ¡°I think some of her followers tried to help her, by making a¡­ scene¡­ and it went horribly wrong.¡±

    I thought again of Andrena¡¯s rage, of her voice as she declared my mission. Justice. That wasn¡¯t the voice of a Goddess sending me to search after some children who had made an ill-informed choice.

    No. This was intentional harm.

    I frowned. Who had done it, though? And why?

    With a squeal, the carriage resumed moving. I sighed. ¡°The last Voice would have done me a great favor by minding her own business.¡±

    Duran finally finished the sip of soup. Even from here, I could tell the cook had added too much salt. Seaweed floated to the top, with a few strangely colored fish.

    Duran gave him a weak smile. ¡°It¡¯s very¡­ unique, good sir.¡±

    ¡°Do you think?¡± the man brightened. ¡°This year, I really think I have a chance!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll pray for you.¡± Duran gave the spoon back and tried to scoot away. ¡°Upon my honor.¡±

 25. Guild Regulations

    We stepped off the coach in Central and followed the directions to the Laundress¡¯s guild from there. It was tucked into the more industrial sections of the Central district, the heart of it before the core of industry had moved north with the expansion of the city. The Laundresses, fundamental, had stayed where they wished and forced the rest of the city to grow around them.

    Once we were within a few blocks, we didn¡¯t need any further signs. We were first greeted by the billowing steam, climbing around our legs and dampening our cheeks. As we pushed through, everyone cloaked in the hazy pale steam like so many wraiths, the heat hit us next. Overhead, the sun fell towards the horizon and illuminated every droplet in the steam, turning it a pale yellow in the sunset as I sweated underneath my robes.

    The kitchen was warm. It was humid, often. It didn¡¯t compare to the Laundresses guild.

    Finally, we saw the flying clothing overhead. The Laundresses guild was a castle, buttressed by simple brick buildings, one printers shop still clacking out at this time of night, one apartment building that had the windows half-lit. It was twice as tall as either neighbor, clearly expanded over the years with different shades of brick and mortar. It had towering stacks, puffing out steam in even increments. In between the crenelations on the rooftop, clotheslines waved in the wind. Clothing of every color, all washed butter-yellow in the fading sunlight.

    In front of us, the guild hadn¡¯t stopped work for the night. The bright red of embers still shone through neat, manufactured-glass windows and neatly painted shutters. I could hear, just beyond, shouting and hustle and bustle in the muted tones of people who were well-accustomed to their work, shouting just to hear the familiar words leave their lips.

    It made me miss the feeling of a skillet underneath my hands. I ignored the ache and stepped forward. The door was latched shut. There was a gleaming sign upon it.

    Laundresses Guild

    Whether ye be peasant or king;

    Every arse needs clean underthings.

    I knocked once. The glimmering haze beyond the doors didn¡¯t change. Next to me, Duran shifted, trying to peer in. ¡°They¡¯ve got a pot big enough to boil a whole person!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s where we put uninvited visitors.¡± The man that opened the door was not what I had expected. For one, he was a him, very distinctly. He was wearing a tunic, with his sleeves rolled up to expose rubbed-red hands. He squinted between us with great suspicion. Then he reached down to a breast pocket and removed a pair of spectacles and positioned them on his nose. ¡°You¡¯re with the Law?¡±

    He said it as if the Law was a force of nature, and we might simply be swept along, like victims of a typhoon.

    I remained still as he inspected me. ¡°We aren¡¯t with the law.¡±

    ¡°Excellent.¡± He shut the door so quickly he nearly slammed it into my nose.

    I knocked again.

    When he didn¡¯t respond, I knocked further. ¡°We¡¯re independent investigators!¡± I called, through the door.

    ¡°He¡¯s going back to a vat,¡± reported Duran, who hadn¡¯t moved from where his face was plastered against the window. ¡°I didn¡¯t think men could be Laundresses.¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s a new century.¡± This was from Apis. ¡°It¡¯s a very useful career. The work is consistent. You usually go home at night, too.¡±

    ¡°Usually?¡±

    ¡°Well, the vats are large.¡±

    I knocked again before my apprentice could be convinced to apply for the Laundresses. It had to be done. I would have to pull out my final card. ¡°We¡¯re here for Andrena!¡±

    The door opened again. Some steam had condensed on the spectacles, and he pulled out a perfectly pressed handkerchief in order to clean them off. ¡°Keep your voice down,¡± he hissed.

    ¡°I¡¯m a representative of Andrena,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll say whatever I-¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± he said. ¡°Come in! But don¡¯t be so loud about it. They only just came through looking for anyone causing a ruckus. We don¡¯t need anyone else in the guild house tonight.¡±

    With that bemusing pronouncement, we were pulled inside the steaming circle of the Laundresses guild. The steam was actually less prominent here, although it was certainly humid and hot. Everyone had their sleeves rolled up. There were Laundresses stirring the vats with great oars, others churning with large handles as cogs turned and poured out heaving rivers of soap. There was an ever-growing pile of clothing in the back, where stacks and stacks of dripping cloth were being added in a seemingly random arrangement to a large metal contraption with cables stretching up past the ceiling.

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    There were enough cogs and activity that I nearly forgot why I¡¯d come inside. It was only when the Laundress coughed that I remembered. ¡°We¡¯re here about the letterboys,¡± I said.

    ¡°You and half the city,¡± he said. ¡°We don¡¯t burn things down. We are the guild. We remain neutral. We know nothing. You have had your interview; thank you very much. Good-bye.¡±

    He grabbed me by the cloak and attempted to show me out. That might have worked well if I was a willowy twenty-something, but I was past thirty and tasted all of my food first, so I had a considerable amount of body weight to resist him with. He pulled at my cloak. I stayed where I was. Sweat trickled down my back.

    ¡°It¡¯s about a specific letterboy,¡± I said, when it became clear he wouldn¡¯t give up. Apis was distracted, staring up at a strange cog on the ceiling. Duran was wandering a little too close to a vat. I¡¯d have to give him a talking-to about soups and stews tonight. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t be too difficult.¡±

    ¡°Ultimate discretion,¡± said the Laundress. He was leaning fully back, putting his weight into attempting to move me. I was leaning in the other direction. The cloak, pulled in between us, began to strain at the seams. ¡°That is the sign of the Laundresses guild. That is why the city trusts us to clean their clothes, when they could go to any simple washerwoman instead. Would you want any simple person off the street to know the history of every stain? Every tear?¡±

    I reached up to flick sweat off my forehead. A bell rang out, a strange series of chimes, and the other Laundresses all moved in sync. A vat was toppled, the water draining in a series of chutes and waterways. Another was filled. The oars stopped, then resumed movement. In the pause, a woman was sent with a great groaning cart to add more wet clothes to the contraption at the back of the room.

    Everything was heaving with steam, with smoke. I could see, across the room, a younger Laundress scuttling back and forth to supply the stove that kept this place in steam and fire with more coals. She was shoveling in enough to supply a train.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t for a personal reason,¡± I said. ¡°You would have my word I would never tell another soul.¡±

    ¡°Your word? Set against our noble history?¡±

    Another set of bells. We shifted back. Duran wandered closer to the vat, exchanged a few words with the woman operating the oar. She offered it to him to try.

    Apis turned to us. ¡°I¡¯m sure we can come to some sort of peaceful resolution,¡± he said.

    I leaned back further. The Laundress turned to scowl at Apis. It might have all worked out, if we hadn¡¯t moved at the same time.

    As it was, we slipped at the same time. My body went back, down towards the tiled floor, where my head hit and my eyes sparked with bright light. Across from me, I heard the thump more than I saw the Laundress fall.

    I blinked once, and I saw the cogs spinning across the ceiling. What were they for? What were they doing? Another blink, and Apis was leaning over me, frowning. ¡°Elysia? Elysia, look at me.¡±

    ¡°Why are there so many cogs? It¡¯s a waste of metal.¡±

    ¡°Elysia, can you focus on my finger?¡± He waved it in front of me. I pushed his hand aside and sat up. He sputtered. ¡°You¡¯re hurt.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± My head hurt. I hated this place. I looked down at my cloak.

    Where it had once been perfect- or, well, close to perfect- my favorite cloak, at least- it was now torn. Ripped in half.

    The other half, brown and half-patched in the elbow, a history of everything I was- it was dangling in the stubborn hand of the Laundress.

    He was shaking. His face was pale. He opened his mouth once, then closed it. His spectacles had fallen out.

    ¡°Now, now,¡± said Apis. ¡°We¡¯ve all had a long day.¡±

    He patted me on the shoulder- as if I needed to be calmed!- and then turned to the Laundress. Apis sat back on his haunches and held out his hand, coaxing. He tipped his head to one side. ¡°We can manage the repair. I¡¯m sure you must be aching. ¡±

    ¡°This has been a crime perpetrated on the grounds of the Laundresses guild,¡± said the Laundress. ¡°It must be repaired here, as well. Otherwise it will be unequal. Everything returned in expected condition. It was written in the Guild¡¯s registry!¡±

    He turned, hand scrabbling across the tile, and retrieved his spectacles. As he stood, perching them on his nose, he approached me. Still prone on the floor, Apis half leaned over me, I did what I could to escape- that is, I puffed up and hoped he would view me as a natural predator.

    Unfortunately, it didn¡¯t work that way. He pounced upon me like nothing more than a piece of meat and deftly untied the top of my cloak, whipping it off of my shoulders. ¡°This shall be returned to you by tomorrow night!¡± He declared. ¡°My crime shall be wiped from the record. Upon my honor!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want it back tomorrow night! Give it to me now!¡± I managed, but it was too late. Somehow his call had summoned additional Laundresses, and I was still off-balance from the sore spot on the back of my skull and the ringing between my ears. Before I knew what had happened, I was outside on the cobbles again, staring at the billowing steam as the door slammed on my nose. I stumbled to the side, feeling the lack of my cloak bitterly. Apis reached up to steady me. I tried to shove off his hand, but I was still weak from the fall.

    That was definitely why I leaned into his shoulder for a moment, breathing deeply and letting the resentment fill me. That was what I got for visiting a guildhouse. My favorite cloak. All of the years spent with me, just for one spectacled man to remove it from my grasp.

    Tonight, I thought, might be the night I finally broke and asked Apis to break out some of his reserve mead. I should take a drink in the cloak¡¯s honor.

    I finally shook off his hand and turned to leave, head aching. The street stretched out, wavering in the darkness. Apis was a hovering presence next to me.

    ¡°Wait,¡± I said. ¡°Where¡¯s Duran?¡±

 26. New and Interesting

    ¡°I was only looking around,¡± said Duran. I patted him again on the back, checking that none of the cleaning fluid had made it into anything important. They used strange chemicals in the guild, acids and soaps and something that made everything hiss.

    ¡°You¡¯re lucky you still have all your fingers.¡±

    They had found him midway down a vat of laundry, tangled in all of the uniforms. He¡¯d been dunked in and out through the oars, clinging onto the wood. Even now, he was dripping on the cobbles.

    The lamp-lighters were coming around now, their matches flickering. I straightened, the crab in my apron pocket crawling up onto my shoulder, and sighed. ¡°Well.¡±

    I missed my cloak already. It was difficult to stride sternly down the street without it.

    The way to Apis¡¯s home seemed dangerous and looming in the dark, although I didn¡¯t look up. It was the same as it had been this morning. I distracted myself by counting the gods, counting my suspects. Andrena. Well, probably not. Cabellus. Again, probably not. Celeres. I¡¯d deal with her tomorrow. Teuthida. I frowned. I supposed I could investigate her. Ursus? It just¡­ didn¡¯t seem his style.

    I stopped as we turned onto Apis¡¯s street and groaned, putting a palm over my face. ¡°What¡¯s the point?¡±

    ¡°Are you quite well?¡± Apis hovered a little too closely.

    I gestured for them both to go on. ¡°Duran, get inside.¡±

    The boy scuttled out of my way- eager to get dry, no doubt- and the crab grabbed onto my pinky. I detached it and shoved it back into my pocket, sighing.

    ¡°We¡¯ve made no progress. All I¡¯ve done is yell at some prison guards.¡±

    ¡°You spoke to the small gods. We know what they want now.¡±

    ¡°No, we don¡¯t. They¡¯re arguing and petty. When has that ever been different?¡± Over the sound of the night, we could hear cheering. Revelry. It was like I was a girl again, going in circles. I wanted to be back at the inn. Back where I could curl up next to the stables and not have anyone bother me. Where I could make my pickles and brew my mead and know that what I was doing was right.

    ¡°It has,¡± said Apis. ¡°The Upper Gods, they used to work together. This last year- the last ten requests the Temple made for more funding, they were denied. She made someone in the coalition very unhappy.¡±

    ¡°I thought you said Cabellus couldn¡¯t be responsible.¡±

    ¡°He couldn¡¯t. It wouldn¡¯t be right.¡±

    ¡°Obviously it wouldn¡¯t be right! It¡¯s a crime!¡±

    I wanted to reach out and shake him. He wasn¡¯t meant for the politics of this city.

    Not that I had been raised for this half of it, either. The Law and the Spire. Technically meant to operate hand-in-hand, forced to agree in totality to affect all of the population. In action, it seemed, they hardly spoke at all.

    Actually. There was a thought.

    ¡°What did the law think of Voice Marcia?¡± I said. I didn¡¯t know who was in power, these days. The only politician I¡¯d seen lately was Sylvia¡¯s husband as he gave that speech.

    Apis shook his head. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know,¡± he said. ¡°If they approved, wouldn¡¯t they fund our temples?¡±

    This city wasn¡¯t doing well. Lighthouses, rivers. The lamps were lit, but that was because fire only had to be lit the once and then it did the business well enough on its own. ¡°Maybe,¡± I said, slowly. I reached out and grabbed his elbow. ¡°We¡¯re going visiting.¡±

    He stumbled as I pulled him along. ¡°Sorry, what?¡± Apis craned his head to look up at the top window of the building, where Duran¡¯s face was illuminated. ¡°What about the boy?¡±

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    ¡°He¡¯ll deal well enough on his own.¡±

    I had to go now. Otherwise my visiting gift would be long-rotten. There were, of course, more varying layers of rules for the upper-class than an elaborate knot. I had never much cared for any of them. Hopefully everyone involved would be in enough disgrace that a crab could overcome the bare minimum.

    The Southern District was over the fat waters of the Always. It didn¡¯t so much run as amble down the banks, fat with silt and whatever the city wanted to call refuse.

    A branch stuck into it was moving so slowly that a spider stuck upon it was actually able to weave herself a web between an uppermost branch and the bridge we walked across, escaping upwards before the branch got any further downstream. I watched the spider crawl up onto the top of the bridge before I turned to the guardsman with a blank smile.

    ¡°What¡¯s your business?¡± He kept blinking a little too long and forcing himself back awake.

    That was the other thing the Always had. Guards. Not just anyone could enter the Southern District, of course. It was the home of lawmen, of nobility. Of a few tradesmen who had been bold enough to purchase (gauche, of course, but money did exchange hands occasionally) houses there.

    I smiled and wished I¡¯d brought the coat. ¡°Here to make a meal, sir.¡±

    The guardsman gave me a look of flat disbelief. ¡°It¡¯s half to midnight.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a very good meal.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see any food.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t expect the crust to cook it for themselves, do you? It¡¯s all in their pantries already.¡±

    This, at least, rang true. Where my separation from the others had began. The need to know what made food delicious, to separate components and experiment.

    He contemplated me for a few minutes more before he sighed. ¡°Is that a¡­ that¡¯s a crab.¡±

    ¡°Fresh-caught.¡±

    ¡°In the name of Teuthida above, what did I do to deserve this,¡± I thought I caught, but he¡¯d already started waving me through. ¡°If you commit any crimes, don¡¯t say you came through here. You swam.¡±

    We both looked down at the Always. Swimming was possible, certainly, but it would leave you dirtier than you¡¯d started. With a few new and interesting diseases, to boot. ¡°Through the harbor,¡± he added.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± said Apis. He bowed. ¡°May Andrena smile-¡±

    ¡°Move!¡±

    I didn¡¯t run- such movements were below me- but I did walk a little faster. Next to me, Apis moved just as quickly. ¡°Are they usually that rude?¡±

    ¡°At least they let us through. We¡¯re supposed to have the seal of a noble house.¡±

    ¡°What about the non-nobles?¡±

    ¡°They have an address.¡± Or they were questioned. I thought fondly of my Grandmother rapping at someone with her cane.

    Here, the houses no longer crowded together in fear of the night. Each was an individual castle, too proud to touch anything so common as a neighbor. The Temple of Teuthida was in the center of the district, a semi-circle of stone around a massive marble fountain. Even at night it still flashed and flickered. There was no movement of priests, but someone was keeping the candles lit.

    The walls were carved with coiling tentacles. Within each was a teardrop of glass, a window matched by one on the opposite wall. A clarity through illusion.

    I crossed to the other side of the street as we neared it. I¡¯d speak to the priests of Teuthida later. Their Voice, the one I thought might actually know something, was sure to be locked in the Spire by now. The Voices of Small Gods could ignore the election as they liked- they might want relevance, to beg for better laws to help fisherman or harvesters or minor musicians- but in the end, they were constantly changing anyway.

    An Upper God couldn¡¯t avoid such an election. When the beetles finally took flight, the Voice would emerge together with the others to declare that they had argued a great deal, but in the end, they¡¯d decided to change nothing.

    No one had more to lose than the people at the top of the status quo.

    I avoided the gaze of the strange carved squid on the temple walls and walked faster. It had been bad enough living south of her temple at the Inn, when I only had to speak to the pilgrims.

    Apis seemed to agree. He stepped closer and dropped his voice. ¡°Where are we going? Do you know something?¡±

    I stopped in front of one of the grandest houses. We were in the center of the old Southern District, where the houses seemed to imitate the marble of Teuthida¡¯s Temple. Columns, elaborately trimmed bushes that were flaking green paint. Lit lamps and five sets of guards. A brass name plate gleamed.

    The home of a councilman.

    I took the steps two at a time. This wasn¡¯t out of any eagerness, but to avoid the guards, who hadn¡¯t realized I would be bold enough to approach the door and followed after me a little too late. By the time they followed me with their swords, I had already knocked on the door.

    It swung open to reveal a round-cheeked woman I hadn¡¯t met but knew immediately. She was well-cleaned, annoyed, and had dark circles under her eyes.

    ¡°Festival season?¡± I said, with sympathy. ¡°Only a few days left.¡±

    ¡°May the beetle take flight early,¡± she muttered. ¡°Oh, but delivery entrance is round the back,¡± she added.

    ¡°Apologies. I¡¯m actually here to see a friend.¡± I held up the crab. It snapped at the air, claws empty. ¡°I brought a gift for her.¡±

    When her eyes remained blank, I gave my best curtsy. It was rusty, not having been used for the last decade or so, but it was still serviceable. ¡°Miss Elysia Ferrers, here to see Lady Sylvia.¡±

    It took a moment for everything to add up. The woman squinted, then leaned in. She leaned back quickly when the crab snapped at her nose. Then her eyes widened. ¡°Miss- but you¡¯re- you died of the Pox!¡±

 27. [Sidequest] A Boy and a Sword

    The rush of water. The crushing heat. Duran struggled up as the oar pressed against his legs, dragging him down. The clothes clung to him like hundreds of grasping hands, pulling him back as he desperately tried to swim to the surface. He opened his mouth, desperate for air, but all that rushed in was burning, bitter soap.

    The world was quiet, so quiet, under the surface. His lungs ached. His world had narrowed to a single, panicked point.

    The oar came down again, stirring the pot of laundry. Duran grabbed for it. His hands slipped, once, twice, but desperate, he gripped it with his full body.

    He emerged into the steam of the surface gasping like a beached fish. He spat out a gout of water, coughing, as a Laundress leaned down and shoved at his shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re slowing down the mix! Get off!¡±

    ¡°Please!¡± He coughed again.

    It hadn¡¯t seemed like such a dangerous thing, leaning over to see what was in the pot. He had been fascinated by all of the colors. They were all gray, gray, gray- cloaks of the same color- but he¡¯d seen something different.

    A spot of white. Had he managed to grab it?

    He coughed out another fountain of water as the Laundress scolded him. He ignored her- it was one of his main talents, ignoring people- and checked his pockets. There, stuffed into the left pocket of his tunic. He shoved the white fabric deeper inside as someone grabbed him by the back of the collar and threw him onto the tile.

    ¡°Don¡¯t come back!¡±

    Duran rolled until he was lying on his back, coughing again. The gears on the ceiling had started rotating again. ¡°What¡¯s in that pot?¡±

    She leaned over, frowning. ¡°You hit your head or something? Leave! Your mistress is already gone.¡±

    Duran vaguely recognized that as a bad sign, but Madam Elysia walked slow and was really loud. He could just follow the yelling. ¡°Please?¡± That usually worked. He tried to give his best pitiful expression. It ended up just making him cough more.

    ¡°It¡¯s washing for the Letterboys,¡± said the Laundress. ¡°Important guild business. Which is why boys like you shouldn¡¯t be interfering.¡± She pulled him up by the front of his tunic this time and sent him spinning towards the door. Before he¡¯d realized what was happening, the door was closed behind him and he was shivering in the night, steam billowing around him.

    He spat out another mouthful of water and felt for the sword at his hip, sighing in relief when it was still there.

    He had the white fabric in his pocket, too. That was two wins for Duran! He grinned, running to catch up with Madam Elysia. Before he could speak, she was already patting him down. She forced his mouth open to check for soap- as if it wasn¡¯t clean already! And demanded to know why he¡¯d gone into the vat!

    She didn¡¯t even ask what he¡¯d found. Before he could tell her, she¡¯d started talking to Apis again. Duran tried to tell her she was missing a big clue- or, well, she probably was, he hadn¡¯t looked at the fabric yet- but they were ignoring him entirely.

    He scowled and kicked at a rock as they walked, trying to make it roll. Typical. It was just like the bard had said. A hero wasn¡¯t recognized until the true moment of darkness, when no one else could accomplish the task. Madam Elysia probably couldn¡¯t have done that well in the vat, that was for sure.

    When she told him to go inside, he didn¡¯t protest. He would set the clue up to dry, and when she came in, she¡¯d be so surprised that she¡¯d have to recognize his greatness. He could already picture it; the door opening, the gasp. She might even say ¡°good job, Duran.¡± Or he might get a second sword. Or a chef¡¯s knife.

    It was with these visions of weaponry in his head that he shoved open the door, said hello to the bees, and pulled the crumpled white cloth out of his pocket. As he shook it out, he realized with shock that he had done it again. He was a hero!

    ¡°Ah-hah!¡± There were two pieces of cloth- gloves! They were still a little grimy on the ends, as if someone had been grubbing in the dirt. Or as if someone had done crime with them!

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    ¡°I¡¯m going to solve the case,¡± he told the bees. They buzzed. ¡°Then, I¡¯m going to stab everyone. Bam! Bam! Bam!¡±

    The bees didn¡¯t have much comment on this. Duran considered trying to get some honey, but gave the hive a wide berth instead. He shook out both gloves and held them out towards the fire.

    One started smoking.

    He pulled it back, frowning. That wasn¡¯t right. He held the glove close to his face, frowning. What kind of fabric set on fire this far from a flame? It looked¡­

    Duran didn¡¯t know anything about fabric, really. It wasn¡¯t leather. It wasn¡¯t like his tunic. He sniffed it. It smelled like oil and dirt and that soap that had been in his mouth. After some thought, he licked it.

    Yes. It had definitely been in the vat. It tasted just like the soap in there.

    He held the other glove towards the fire. It started smoking, too. After a few more moments, it caught aflame entirely. He shouted in horror and dropped it, stomping it out. He dragged it back and inspected it.

    Was it the liquid from the Laundresses? Were they secretly making everything flammable?

    He had to test it. He pulled off his tunic and held it towards the fire. When it did nothing, other than faintly steam, he held it closer. Then closer. Then-

    Even when it was almost touching the flames, it only steamed! He let out a noise of frustration. What were those gloves! They were ruining his perfect plan. Now Madam Elysia would find damp gloves, which wouldn¡¯t be impressive at all.

    He paused, hunched over the damp gloves, and looked over his shoulder. Where was Madam Elysia?

    Duran had a finely-tuned internal clock. He could have used this for good- to wake up on time, or to make sure the bread was always perfectly cooked. Instead, he always knew when an Adult would be most likely to come check on him. As such, all of his internal alarms and then some were going off at the moment. He hadn¡¯t seen an authority in a long time. Too long.

    He left the gloves where they were, crumpled on the floor, and crossed to the window. He peered out.

    The street was empty. Only a stray cat wandered, and even the cat seemed a little disgusted by the situation. It poked at a discarded set of fish bones, then spat them out.

    Duran turned to the bees. ¡°Did she mention anything to you?¡±

    A bee drifted out lazily, then came to rest in the wilting set of squash blossoms left out for them. Duran bit at his lip. Had he been¡­

    Left in charge?

    Surely not. He must have simply been forgotten. Any moment now, Madam Elysia would be coming back for him.

    He peered back out the window. It was looking very¡­ empty. He swallowed. What if the adventure happened, and he wasn¡¯t there?

    It was just like the Bard had said. An adventure does not wait. One must find it!

    Duran was that one. And he would find it!

    First, though, he would be Responsible. He glanced around the rooms. If he was meant to be in charge, maybe Apis had wanted him to watch the bees? He bit at his lip. What would that entail? He knew Apis did something, but he had never paid attention before.

    Maybe they needed to be able to go in and out. As he looked around, it was awfully cramped. Nodding decisively, he went over and pushed open a window. Not large enough for a person to come in, but definitely large enough for a bee to go in and out.

    ¡°There,¡± he said. ¡°Have fun!¡±

    The bees didn¡¯t look very excited, but that was fine. Duran could be excited for everyone involved. He swiped a little more water off of his shoulders, went to grab the key from underneath a plant pot so he could lock the door again, and tried to hold back his smile. He was doing it! He was going on a real adventure!

    Once he was outside, the door closed behind him, the panic set in again. It was all well and good to find an adventure, but he¡¯d never found one before. He scratched at his chin, making sure to avoid where his one beard hair was growing in. Where would an adventure be? Did they have a natural habitat? He had gone hunting with his father once, but mostly it had just involved drinking and looking at trees. Did you have to use a mating call for an adventure?

    ¡°You, there! Boy!¡±

    He paused, looked around wildly. There was no one there. Was this it? His adventure?

    ¡°Below the stairs!¡±

    He kneeled and looked down. Sure enough, the scary lady from yesterday was peering out a window. ¡°You¡¯re looking for your Mistress?¡±

    He nodded. Maybe if he was quiet, she would go away.

    ¡°She said something about the law,¡± said the woman. ¡°She and Apis were talking so loudly I¡¯m surprised they didn¡¯t wake up the whole neighborhood. I¡¯d bet they went to the Southern District. You¡¯re staying with him, then?¡±

    Duran tried to remember what they were supposed to say, got tripped up on what he wasn¡¯t supposed to say because of the eviction, and ended up saying, ¡°Bees.¡±

    ¡°Hmm,¡± said the woman. She leaned back. ¡°Go South, tell that woman I want her out! And stop dripping on my stairs!¡±

    The shutters slammed shut.

    Duran straightened up, took the stairs two at a time, and grinned towards the Southern District. This was it! His Adventure. Just a boy and a sword, ready to save Andrena from the evil forces of¡­ well, it didn¡¯t matter.

    The shutters shoved open again. ¡°Kid!¡±

    He turned, hand on his sword. ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s west,¡± said the landlady. ¡°Turn left. No, your other left. Yes, that way. Now-¡± she sighed. ¡°Just follow that road, take a right, take a left again, and keep going. Then tell your Mistress to get out. All right?¡±

    Duran turned to actually face the South and smiled. He could do this. His Adventure!

 28. [Sidequest] Two boys, Two Swords

    Duran had to stop and ask for directions three more times (one lamp-lighter, one man with a knife who seemed very interested in donations, and two ladies with strangely low-cut clothing for the temple district) before he finally made it to the great bridge.

    The Southern District was like a gleaming landmark. Buildings were short there, all bone-pale and covered in lights like it was a year-round festival. There were banners flapping on some of them, in all different colors. They must be very rich, to be able to re-dye them every time they bleached away in the sun.

    In front of him, drifting towards the ocean, full of opportunity, was the Always. It stretched from bank to bank, the only water he¡¯d seen in an actual river channel since being here. The bridge was magnificent too, a construction of soaring marble that was brightly lit by torches every few feet.

    He trotted across, stopping to stare at every decorated statue. They had different figures for all of the gods, he thought- at least that was what they seemed to be, figures holding up the railing of the bridge- but he couldn¡¯t figure out what all of them were. He was peering down at a man with a big beard when someone came up to talk to him.

    ¡°Oh, I think I know where I¡¯m going now,¡± he said. It was probably the man with the knife again. He¡¯d turned out to be very persistent until Duran took out the sword so they could compare. ¡°But thank you!¡±

    He squinted closer. Was that a crown? What god wore a crown?

    ¡°Remove yourself from the statue of King Aquila at once.¡± Before Duran could comply- which he would, probably, or at least think about it- he was being lifted by his shoulder and pulled up to stare at the person speaking.

    ¡°We don¡¯t have a King!¡±

    He stared up at the guard. The guard might have stared down at him. He was wearing a big helmet, unlike the ones they¡¯d seen at the harbor, who had held their helmets under their arms. Tonight, as the moon was high overhead and the winds picked up, it was actually rather chilly.

    ¡°What are they teaching you these days,¡± said the guard. Everything came through a bit tinny, due to the helmet. ¡°Obviously we don¡¯t have Kings anymore. That doesn¡¯t mean the olds ones just went away.¡±

    ¡°So you made them part of your bridge?¡±

    ¡°The bridge was made back when we had-¡± The guard groaned. ¡°I¡¯m not going to argue with a child. I¡¯m not!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a child!¡± Duran scrambled back and reached for the sword. The guard grabbed his wrist.

    ¡°Not up here, you don¡¯t. Do you have the seal of a noble house?¡±

    Duran frowned. ¡°Like the big northern fish?¡±

    ¡°I want to know if someone¡¯s asked for you,¡± said the Guard. ¡°A noblewoman, maybe. You might be delivering a letter. Maybe someone-¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m here to help my Mistress!¡± Duran perked up. ¡°She¡¯s about this tall-¡± he gestured- ¡°And she has an apron, and she¡¯s loud, and kind of scary. And she has dark hair.¡±

    The guard¡¯s armor creaked as he stepped back. ¡°I should have known.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Just go,¡± said the Guard. ¡°Do not mention this to anyone.¡±

    ¡°I would never!¡± Duran knew it! He was perfect at this. He bounced past, making record time. He¡¯d see Madam Elysia, and she¡¯d know he was a great apprentice. Probably the best she¡¯d ever had.

    He was nearly off of the bridge, already basking in the bright lights of the Southern District, when he heard it. It wasn¡¯t so much a cry for help as it was¡­ a demand?

    ¡°Help me.¡±

    Yes. That was definitely a full stop, not an exclamation point. Duran paused, looked around. The voice had been weak, trembling. Surely¡­

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    ¡°Help. Me.¡±

    The wind picked up. Duran wandered over. He peered over. There, caught in the thick waters of the Always. About half a body¡¯s length from shore, a boy his age was suspended in the water. He seemed to be half-wading, half-swimming. Fully stuck.

    His face was red with exertion. He struggled, pulled downstream. He turned up to stare at Duran. ¡°Well?¡±

    Duran bit at his lip. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to ask,¡± he said. ¡°Maybe say please?¡±

    ¡°It is below me to beg for help,¡± said the boy.

    Duran looked down at the boy. The boy looked up at him. Duran had to admit, he did have fancy clothing on. The top half of him, at least.

    ¡°Hurry up,¡± said the boy. ¡°There¡¯s a branch coming.¡± It was moving at a little more than a slow trot. Since it was a rather large branch, though, he was right to be afraid.

    Duran stared at the water. This was his chance to be a hero. But, well. The boy was a little annoying. ¡°You¡¯ll say I¡¯m a hero?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll say I rescued you and that I¡¯m a hero?¡±

    ¡°¡­yes?¡±

    It was too late. Duran was already scrambling down the bank. He pulled his sword off, belt and all, and held out the scabbard. He braced himself backward with his full body weight as the other boy grabbed onto the sword. With his full strength, the river made a sucking noise as they both tried to pull the boy free.

    They pushed. They shoved. The river made a shrieking sound. As the branch approached, ever-slowly, the boy finally came free with such a sudden movement that he went tumbling, head over heels, over Duran. As he came thudding down, the sword flew over in an arc and fell on the street above.

    Duran abandoned him immediately and went to grab the sword. As he buckled it on, the boy came scrambling up the bank.

    ¡°Hey! You abandoned me!¡±

    ¡°I was getting my sword,¡± Duran informed him. He patted it in satisfaction. ¡°A good blade, is it not?¡± He¡¯d given a great amount of thought to his choices. Only this sword had been worth stealing. It was big and it was fancy. The biggest and the fanciest. The best to be a hero with.

    ¡°I suppose you stole it,¡± sniffed the boy. ¡°You¡¯ve done a poor job of being a hero. My boot¡¯s left in the river, and I¡¯m coated in filth.¡±

    He was a mess, that was for sure. He had his own sword, but like everything else, it was completely coated in mud. Duran eyed him with some disgust. ¡°Why did you even go swimming in the first place?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t- I had a raft.¡±

    They both turned to look at the Always. Nothing remained except for silty, uneven waters. No sign of a raft. ¡°Don¡¯t become a boatswain,¡± said Duran.

    ¡°How else was I supposed to cross!¡± The boy stomped one stockinged foot. ¡°I¡¯m important! They¡¯ll hardly overlook my position simply because I wish to-¡±

    ¡°Wish to what?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s hardly your business,¡± sniffed the boy.

    ¡°Well, I think it is.¡± Duran folded his arms. ¡°Since I saved your life, and all.¡±

    ¡°Who are you, then?¡±

    ¡°You can call me Duran. Although I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll get a new title anytime now.¡± His heroic title: when the city finally recognized his service. The other boy didn¡¯t respond. ¡°Well? What about you?¡±

    ¡°Servius,¡± he said. He turned away and kicked at the ground.

    ¡°No title? Should I call you lord?¡±

    ¡°You should call me nothing, and forget this ever happened.¡±

    ¡°No chance of that,¡± said Duran. They still stood, halfway up the hill, watching the Always. ¡°You¡¯re going to go home with one boot, covered in mud?¡±

    ¡°Let me worry about it,¡± said Servius. He folded his arms. ¡°It¡¯s none of your concern.¡±

    ¡°It became my concern when I saved you-¡±

    ¡°You helped. A little-¡±

    ¡°-saved you from the dangers of the Always, where you would have perished from-¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have perished! I would have been bruised, a little-¡±

    ¡°-and lost all of your lands, probably, and your house taken over by the Law-¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    Duran shrugged. ¡°Isn¡¯t that how rich people do it?¡±

    ¡°No!¡±

    ¡°Sorry for not understanding your ways, my lord.¡±

    Servius rolled his eyes. ¡°What¡¯s your plan, then, hero?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll find a fountain,¡± said Duran. ¡°Surely there¡¯s got to be one. I¡¯ll make sure all the mud is gone, as your hero, and show you back home. Then you can tell your parents how much I helped you.¡±

    Madam Elysia would understand. He was being a hero! She could deal with the other issues as they came up. Then they would meet, and he would tell her all about it. Maybe he could even get a medal. Or some money. He wanted to buy more of those honey-glazed snacks from yesterday.

    ¡°As that plan includes telling my parents,¡± said Servius, ¡°No! Of course not!¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to say why you were in there! We could have been- fighting off bandits. Wild pirates, or something! I saved your life.¡± Duran nodded. ¡°Pirates makes more sense. That¡¯s how you got wet.¡±

    Servius stared at him. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever met someone so singularly delusional.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± said Duran. ¡°I¡¯m here for a different adventure anyway. Go make up your own lie.¡±

    He spun on his heel. This was what he should have expected! Adventures were full of people who tried to stop the hero. Who tried to hold them back. Clearly-

    ¡°Wait,¡± said Servius. ¡°Maybe- we can go to a fountain.¡± He coughed. ¡°You¡¯d back up any, ah, lie? About why I was, perhaps, out of the house?¡±

    Duran stared at him. ¡°Only if you tell them I deserve a reward,¡± he said.

    ¡°Deal.¡±

    It took Duran a moment to realize Servius was offering him a hand. A handshake. They were being adults, then. He put his shoulders back. ¡°Right,¡± he said. ¡°To the nearest fountain!¡±

 29. [Sidequest] Font of Truth

    After the first four turns, Servius finally sighed and put out an arm to stop Duran from leading. ¡°You don¡¯t know where you¡¯re going at all, do you?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Duran tried to sound offended and confident, but it mostly just sounded like he had something stuck in his throat. He coughed, once or twice. ¡°I- well- there¡¯s got to be a fountain somewhere.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no need for all the fuss.¡±

    The streets were clean here, which was a little bewildering. Duran had started to think of that as a sort of myth, or impossibility. As a result, they were leaving streaks of footprints behind. One spongy track for the stocking; one tread for the boot; and a series of drips, for the point of Servius¡¯s sword.

    He hoped no one was looking for them. They would be very easy to follow.

    ¡°We can just sneak into the temple of Teuthida,¡± said Servius. He pointed straight ahead. It was a massive, pale building. The first thing Duran thought was that it had contracted some sort of disease, like ivy made of stone had somehow grown onto the building. Then he blinked and realized it was carved tentacles, popping out with suckers added. He shuddered. He wasn¡¯t sure he liked the overall effect. As the lanterns flickered, the tentacles seemed to almost move.

    ¡°They¡¯ve got a big central fountain,¡± said Servius. ¡°And I¡¯ve got it on good information that those Priests are old and boring. They won¡¯t be awake.¡±

    They didn¡¯t really have Priests back home- everyone took turns maintaining the temple- but based on the Priests he¡¯d met so far, Duran didn¡¯t think any of them would be awake late. He nodded in agreement, after staring at the tentacles for a moment longer, and followed Servius to the temple.

    It was arranged in a semi-circle around the fountain. The fountain itself was large and shallow, big enough to contain the Inn back home. A central raised platform spurted water out, increasingly large copper bowls letting the water fall before it all dispersed into the outer rim of the fountain and seeped back into the ground. The only indication that it was one of Teuthida¡¯s fountains were the symbols inscribed into the bowls and the marble itself. Duran knelt down to stare, at the intricate eyes, before he felt a flick at the back of his neck.

    ¡°You going to stay and stare?¡±

    ¡°Oh, sorry!¡±

    He flushed and stood up. ¡°I haven¡¯t been- my hometown, it¡¯s rather close to the other main temple-¡±

    ¡°I can tell. You speak like you¡¯ve got a bag of oats in your mouth.¡± Servius wrinkled his nose. ¡°You haven¡¯t been up there before?¡±

    Duran shook his head. ¡°Why would I? I haven¡¯t dedicated myself to her.¡±

    ¡°Well, if this actually saves me, I¡¯ll dedicate myself. Truth be my master,¡± said Servius. As he pulled off his tunic, Duran turned to peer in the windows of the temple instead. He could see faint candles, flickers of light-

    Voices. He ducked beneath the window, back against the wall. Servius turned, a faint movement in the fountain. Duran put a finger up to his mouth and raised both brows.

    He could hear voices filtering slightly through the wall.

    ¡°Of course¡­ what a damned mess. Heard it didn¡¯t go well at the festival.¡±

    ¡°Why would it have gone well?¡­told him to keep it more private. That man has an ego the size of the astral colony.¡±

    ¡°Has she said¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a lockdown. We should know nothing. And you¡¯d best keep it that way.¡±

    Duran stretched to hear more, but the voices were already disappearing, trailing down a stone hall with the footsteps to follow. He hunched down, heartbeat pounding. What hadn¡¯t gone well at the festival?

    He couldn¡¯t help but think of the man on the stage, yelling about the law. But that couldn¡¯t be it, at all. The Priests of Teuthida would want Andrena to be avenged. They were on the side of truth, of Justice. Of the Gods.

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    He closed his eyes. What would a hero do?

    There was still splashing coming quietly from the fountain. He had time. Duran turned onto his knees and crept quietly towards the door he could see, an archway carved with twisting tentacles that led into the central temple. He heard a quiet objection from Servius, but before he could hear any more of it, he was inside and the door was closed behind him.

    Duran had only been in one temple of a major god before this. This one smelt considerably less of ash. He shivered at the draft. The windows were all aligned so that the light shined straight through, and the roof was pierced with skylights. It gave the dappled effect of being in a forest or maybe being underwater, suspended in stone.

    He missed the clearing at home, where every god got a stump and you prayed the best you could. This was¡­ too big. Too remote. He pulled back against the door and looked left, then right. Where would the priests be? He couldn¡¯t hear their conversation anymore, only a few empty echoes. There were lights lit, doors to rooms at both ends of the semicircle.

    Across from him was what looked like the main alter. Teuthida had been depicted as a woman with ten arms, two tentacles. At her two neatly curled feet had been left what looked like piles of jewels. All clear and shining.

    She stared down at him with a knowing smile and eyes that seemed to follow him as he walked to the left, footsteps echoing.

    As he approached the doorway, he slowed, trying to avoid any shafts of light and finally pressing his ear to the stone. He couldn¡¯t hear anything inside. There was quiet. Then-

    A snore. An inhale, a drag of breath. An exhale. Duran bit his lip and tried for the doorknob. It was unlocked.

    A temple, in the center of the city, and they left their front door unlocked as they slept? Along with the room to their bedchambers?

    Duran pulled the open, closing his eyes to force them to adjust before opening them again. The door opened easily at first, revealing a few rows of beds with dark shapes curled up. One at the back had shoulders rising and falling evenly, the snore loud enough to wake the dead.

    There was nothing else. No evidence. A few paintings had been done on the wall, Duran thought, but it was darker in here than in the rest of the temple. He hadn¡¯t realized some priests stayed at a temple.

    He thought of Servius, outside in the fountain, and froze in sudden panic. He reached to close the door. Moving too fast, the hinges squealed in complaint.

    Duran stopped moving. The snore cut off mid-rattle.

    The key was to not move quickly. Duran pushed one edge of his boot back. Then another. Once he was clear of the door, movement by movement, he inched it closed. As it was a hairsbreadth from closing, he finally heard it- the snoring resumed.

    His shoulders fell in relief.

    Behind him, as he turned, the empty hallway still stretched out. Half of the temple left.

    He found himself rushing across to the other half. There was still one more chance to be a hero. One more chance to find something interesting, something Madam Elysia might like.

    He pressed his ear to the doorway. No sound. Where had the priests been going? He squinted towards the rest of the temple. He couldn¡¯t see any other doors, any other passages. He swallowed.

    He had to be brave. He had to try. He pushed down the handle and pulled open the door.

    It was boring!

    He almost cried out in frustration before he remembered that he was in the silent temple. All that there was, hidden in the other room, was what looked like a sensible room full of books and a desk with a quill and a letter upon it. He stomped his foot and considered leaving before deciding to at least look around in the drawers.

    Maybe there was a secret document, or some spirits. He wasn¡¯t entirely sure what spirits were, but everyone didn¡¯t want him to have them, so he was sure they must be good.

    He bent down and started rattling at different desk drawers. Most of them came open easily. One book held accounts- boring! Another one had a list of dedicants - Boring, boring, boring!

    The third drawer was locked. Duran frowned, looking at it. He wanted to look at the locked drawer. If this was really an adventure, he¡¯d be able to pick locks. But all he had was a sword.

    Duran looked at the sword. He looked at the desk.

    He couldn¡¯t really break the drawer. That would be rude, and also Madam Elysia would be mad at him. Probably Teuthida would be mad at him, too.

    Duran licked his lips. The other temple had burned down, though. Maybe it would all be fair?

    Before he could be doubted, he pulled out the sword and bashed the drawer once, twice, with the hilt. Then he stopped, listening in the silence to hear if anyone would come to yell at him.

    Nothing!

    He had succeeded. He was a hero. He pulled the splintered drawer open, grinning. Then his face fell.

    Letters. All there were were letters. Who cared about letters? He couldn¡¯t even see who they were from or who they were to, the handwriting was so cramped and blurry.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Came a whisper from outside. ¡°Are you done or not?¡±

    A failure, again. Duran sighed. He grabbed the top few letters and stuffed them in a pocket, then stood up. ¡°I¡¯m done,¡± he said. He closed the broken drawer, then closed the door neatly behind himself. He stepped out into the courtyard, brushing himself off. ¡°Are you ready?¡±

    Servius was still dripping and a little muddy, but he was definitely more presentable now. He sighed. ¡°As I¡¯ll ever be.¡±

    ¡°Servius!¡± They both turned at the sound of the voice. It was a well-dressed lady, her skirts held up to allow her to run, her hair in disarray.

    ¡°Mother,¡± he said, with some dismay.

    ¡°Duran.¡±

    ¡°Madam Elysia!¡± Duran grinned. She folded her arms.

    ¡°The Fountain of Teuthida!¡± Apis pointed a finger. ¡°Someone¡¯s- someone¡¯s coated it in mud!¡±

 30. Baron of Something-or-Other

    I looked over my shoulder. All I saw was the dark of the night, a set of guards, and the faint circling of a seagull above. When I turned back, the housekeeper was still staring at me. I lowered the crab as it snapped at my wrist.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± I said. ¡°You must be thinking of another Ferrers.¡± I squinted, trying to remember. ¡°I- my great uncle, maybe? Augustus?¡±

    Who else had died of the pox? It had been too long, and I¡¯d never dealt well with the elaborate accountings of who knew what, the layers upon layers of social connection. After all, what did they all know of me?

    ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°You. You¡¯re the one that married Baron Something-or-other, didn¡¯t you?¡± She scratched at her face. ¡°Ah, yes. Vindex, wasn¡¯t it?¡±

    I stared at her. She stared at me. ¡°You¡¯re looking very well,¡± she hurried out. ¡°You know, for being dead.¡±

    ¡°Who told you I was dead? I left a very long letter.¡± I coughed. ¡°Also, it wasn¡¯t- the marriage should have been annulled.¡±

    ¡°Of course not, Lady Vindex. Although I suppose, since he was widowed a week after the wedding, no one ever thought about it one way or the other.¡±

    ¡°I consider it annulled,¡± I said. Just the thought of him sent a shudder down my spine, like she might summon him. He could stroll in, staring vacantly, at any moment. I leaned in. ¡°At least call me Elysia.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± she said. ¡°My lady.¡± She fiddled with her apron. ¡°I¡¯ll just, ah, go summon Lady Sylvia.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll wait here,¡± I said. The guards and their swords suddenly seemed much more inviting. Apis hadn¡¯t made a sound since she¡¯d recognized my name. Stupid. Why had I expected my mother to actually read any letter of mine? Andrena, if you want to send in a fleet of bees, I wouldn¡¯t mind the help.

    The housekeeper paused, partway in the door. ¡°Only,¡± she said. ¡°Well, the household¡¯s getting ready for a meeting tonight, and I wouldn¡¯t want you to miss the Lady-¡±

    I stepped inside, putting the crab back into my pocket. For a moment I thought Apis might stay out on the doorstep. That this had finally tested his loyalty- the reveal of the difference between us. He met my eyes, gave me a bemused smile, and followed me inside.

    I tried not to feel too relieved. It meant nothing. He was hardly helpful, anyway.

    Inside, it was a chaotic haze. A swishing of robes was the only warning I had before I needed to step out of the hallway, Apis putting a steadying hand on my elbow as the Lord stomped past. ¡°My sword of state!¡± He said. ¡°Where is it! I know I put it somewhere!¡±

    ¡°How am I meant to know where you keep your sword?¡± That was Sylvia, through and through. Her voice sounded deep and throaty, from the top of the stairs. ¡°Gods below know you don¡¯t let anyone else touch it. The loss is yours alone.¡±

    ¡°I left it right on the hook! You haven¡¯t been letting the boy touch it again, have you?¡±

    ¡°The boy is your son. If he thinks he can be heroic with a sword, it¡¯s certainly not a notion of mine.¡±

    I cleared my throat. Neither the Lord or his Lady bothered to look down at me. The housekeeper might have noticed my bearing, my name, but here, in the middle of the haze- as the Lady Sylvia hung an elaborate necklace over her collarbone- I felt the truth. My mother hadn¡¯t needed to kill me with the pox. I¡¯d gotten rid of Lady Vindex the instant I¡¯d stepped outside of the city gates.

    I couldn¡¯t help but smile at that. Some names needed to stay dead. ¡°All of you!¡± I yelled. ¡°Are you going to say hello, or not? You¡¯ve got guests.¡±

    They all stopped, at that.

    Even Apis dropped my arm. I held up the crab, still dangling. ¡°Hello, Sylvia. I brought a house-gift. I thought we might have a talk.¡±

    She was a vision on the stairs. Perfectly arrayed in a floor-length dress, jewels sparkling and climbing up her wrists like strangling vines. She stepped down the stair, let out a cut-off noise of surprise, and stopped moving. Her husband, always slow, stared over at me, then up at her. ¡°Did we forget to pay again?¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯m tired of all of these fish-women coming by.¡±

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    ¡°The pox,¡± she said.

    ¡°Not you too,¡± I said. ¡°Does no one read their correspondence?¡±

    I was starting to come around on Celeres. At least the goddess of the post might actually make sure my writing was delivered. If I prayed twice, would she make sure the recipient opened it?

    I looked around, smiled. The crab was still dangling. ¡°Lovely home you have.¡± It was larger than mine would have been. There was a time when Sylvia had been smug about that. Now she just stared down at me, mouth opening and closing.

    Behind me, Lord Julien opened a closet and rummaged. ¡°It¡¯s not here either,¡± he said. ¡°Curse the gods and the rolling of the world! Where is it!¡±

    ¡°All this time,¡± said Lady Sylvia. ¡°Your husband still mourns for you! He¡¯s never taken a second wife!¡±

    ¡°That sounds like a personal problem on his part,¡± I said. ¡°I certainly didn¡¯t tell him I was dead, either. In fact, I¡¯m sure my mother offered him several equally willing substitutes as soon as I was a decent distance out of the city.¡±

    I¡¯d realized my place soon enough. The Baron had come over to meet me just before our wedding. I¡¯d sat in my parents home, trussed up and nervous. There had been little cakes, speckled with sesame seeds and a little under-baked, although he wasn¡¯t clever enough to notice.

    He hadn¡¯t even looked at me. He¡¯d accepted the gift of refreshments, nodded at the introductions, and sat down. There had been no effort at conversation. He had been silent, staring out the window. He¡¯d commented once, when a bird had landed upon a twig outside.

    I had realized it then, staring out at that fat sparrow.

    When it came down to it, the scions of nobility were like food arrayed at a great feast. Dukes, they were the roast, the ugly lords and barons carved pieces of bird. Prettier girls were a berry sauce. The Lady Sylvia was an imported cheese, better in small quantities but matching especially well with mild courses. There were well-baked rolls, girls that carried politically active peppercorn sauces of solicitors and military men, and the calming chowders of souls who dedicated themselves to the temples.

    I was the turnip.

    No one ever wanted to have a turnip, really, but they were consistent. Reliable. Grew easily and provided you with nutrition. From a common family, no matter how large they grew or how high their leaves stretched. If you tried, you could still taste a little of the dirt on each piece.

    Of course the baron hadn¡¯t bothered speaking to me. Who would waste effort on a turnip?

    I had gone through with the wedding, of course, since I didn¡¯t want to disappoint my mother and she¡¯d already bought all of the jewelry. But I¡¯d left as soon as I could.

    I could still remember kneeling before the statue of Andrena that now was surrounded only by ash, eyes closed and dressed for my wedding. I don¡¯t care what you do with me. Just don¡¯t make me stay with him.

    Now I watched Sylvia and couldn¡¯t restrain myself from sighing. ¡°You can¡¯t actually believe he misses me. We met twice.¡±

    ¡°The heart is a strange thing,¡± she said. Apparently finally recovered from her shock, she descended the stairs, moving slowly to make sure her earrings chimed with every step. They must have cost a fortune. For some reason, I found myself remembering speaking to Amatus earlier. Better nobles to kidnap, back then. ¡°Besides, his position is much changed. He¡¯s no longer just a Baron. I know you never much cared for land management, but I¡¯m sure he¡¯d take you back now that-¡±

    ¡°Sylvia!¡±

    We both paused at that. In my distraction, the housekeeper swiped out, grabbed the crab. The Lord Julian had a new expression. I hadn¡¯t realized he was capable of it, but he looked- worried. Or perhaps he just had indigestion. He¡¯d swept back into the room, having been walking about for most of our conversation. I was rather irritated I couldn¡¯t continue to simply ignore him.

    ¡°Yes, dearest?¡± The Lady Sylvia had perfected her mild smile, perfect for husbands and nobility and irate customers. Another reason I had run to work behind a stove, instead.

    ¡°The boy,¡± he said. ¡°He¡¯s not here.¡±

    For the second time, I watched the Lady Sylvia pale. ¡°You¡¯ve checked-¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°Behind the house. On the roof. In his room. The root cellar. Even that little path down to the harbor he thinks we don¡¯t know about.¡±

    Her hand went up to her mouth. ¡°Not even in the kitchens?¡±

    ¡°The guards said no one saw him leave,¡± he said. ¡°But his window was open. And-¡± He gestured to the closet.

    The Lady Sylvia swore creatively. ¡°But the dinner is starting in an hour!¡±

    ¡°He wanted to go to that festival,¡± muttered the Lord Julian. ¡°I¡¯d bet he¡¯s arguing with the guards on the bridge.¡±

    ¡°Oh, no.¡± Lady Sylvia¡¯s hand flew to her mouth.

    ¡°What now?¡±

    ¡°That book on boat-craft,¡± said the Lady Sylvia. ¡°I thought it only a foolishness-¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± I said. ¡°So he went to try and cross the Always.¡± I thought of the smug boy next to the Lady Sylvia, and found I had a little hope for the upper crust after all. Maybe they could get properly crunchy, poorly-kneaded as they were. ¡°You need to go to the dinner, yes, Lord Julian?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the Lord¡¯s-¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll go with Lady Sylvia and find your son. Easy as that. Yes?¡±

    Before he could say anything else about it, I took the Lady Sylvia by the arm and turned around, leaving easily through the front door. Even harried by the long train of her dress, Sylvia made good time. We were all the way down the stairs before she managed to object. ¡°This- it isn¡¯t-¡±

    ¡°Do you want your son back, or not?¡±

    Apis was quick behind us. The swords of the guards clanked. There was a breath where I thought she would object- say that she didn¡¯t know me. That she would leave it to the guard. That she wasn¡¯t willing to go on one more adventure.

    She put up a hand and said, ¡°The Lady is right. We¡¯ll go find my son. Expect us back in a little more than an hour.¡±

 31: Fourteen Years

    We were partway down the street when Sylvia spoke to me again. ¡°Fourteen years,¡± she said. Her hands were clenched. ¡°Fourteen!¡±

    ¡°I sent you a letter.¡±

    I glanced towards Apis. He was walking a little faster, like he was trying to avoid being involved with the situation. As if I would let him escape! I stepped a little faster, too, catching up and using him as a shield in between Sylvia and I. ¡°We didn¡¯t see anyone in the Always coming over, did we?¡±

    ¡°I was distracted by the guard,¡± he said. He looked over his shoulder. ¡°You didn¡¯t- I didn¡¯t realize you were married.¡±

    ¡°Not you too!¡± I folded my arms. ¡°Can¡¯t a woman just abandon her new husband without everyone claiming they¡¯re still married?¡± A part of me recalled how kind he had been, how helpful. Had it all been the sort of illusion men so commonly engaged in, the kindness that was only transactional? Would it disappear now that he thought someone else had claimed me?

    I was disappointed, I had to admit. Apis had seemed more sensible than that. Frankly, I had thought I was too old and ugly to be the focus of that type of attention, these days.

    ¡°Did the beetle run over your hands or not?¡±

    ¡°Well, technically, but we never-¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s even worse! You¡¯ve just-¡± Apis stopped walking. ¡°When the beetle ran over your hands, the beetle god took your souls as collateral. Until you consummate the marriage or annul it, they¡¯re still in the hands of the gods! By running off, you¡¯re- you¡¯re-¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m speaking to you perfectly well without a soul.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t change the fact that you ought to make things right with him,¡± said Sylvia, interrupting us. Even in her long dress, she was keeping up well, shoes clicking evenly on the cobbles. I tried to walk faster, outpace her in the flickering light, then stopped.

    ¡°Wait,¡± I said. I pointed towards the cobbles.

    Everything was exceedingly clean here. Pale cobbles, shining in the light. Pale stone, stretching up to flags flapping in the moonlight. Like tombstones, waiting for the councillors trapped within them to finally pass into the other world.

    So why had someone left perfectly intact muddy footprints in the middle of the road?

    ¡°Lady Sylvia,¡± I said, emphasizing the Lady, ¡°What size are your son¡¯s shoes?¡±

    She dashed over to grab at my arm, bending over to inspect it. ¡°But- one side is smudged.¡±

    Her hand flew to her mouth, horrified. ¡°Do you think- was he injured? Limping?¡±

    I squinted at the prints. It looked like a mess, mostly. ¡°Maybe?¡±

    ¡°Oh, my baby. If that river¡¯s touched him-¡± Before Sylvia could specify how she could hurt a river, Apis had already pointed down the road. ¡°It looks like we can follow the tracks,¡± he said.

    I pulled myself free of Sylvia¡¯s arm. ¡°Well? We can go investigate.¡± Please. Where had my friend gone? The girl who was brave and funny?

    The woman in front of me stared in shock at the tracks for a minute more before she nodded. ¡°Of course,¡± she said.

    The tracks meandered at first, down a road towards what looked like a butcher¡¯s shop closed in the night- Lady Sylvia stomped up to the window, looking in, before sighing in relief- before they veered north again, wandering wildly.

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    ¡°What was he thinking?¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I¡¯m sure I told him how to sneak out better than this.¡±

    I glanced over at her. We had been silent for the last few blocks, trying to trace the mud. I had been trying to avoid speaking at all, worried that the subject of my missing husband might come up again. The last thing I needed was his specter looming over me while I tried to actually deal with important matters.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been teaching him to sneak out?¡±

    ¡°Well, if he¡¯s going to do it anyway, better for it not to reflect on us badly,¡± she said.

    I could remember a good few nights of us sneaking out, myself. The light on the water as we skipped rocks across the harbor. We had lived close together then. Her home, one of the older manses, her family¡¯s money slowly crumbling. My own family, newly grown into the money, taking over a fallen house¡¯s remnants. By all means, we should have hated each other.

    ¡°I did miss you,¡± she said. ¡°Really. But- you were dead. I didn¡¯t think you were¡­ well¡­where were you?¡±

    ¡°I was working as a cook, up north. A small inn.¡± The tracks were getting darker, more solid. ¡°You really didn¡¯t get my letter?¡±

    ¡°They said it was infected with the pox. I let them take it away to be burned.¡±

    Ah. I frowned. ¡°If it was infected, wouldn¡¯t you have already touched it?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to die! Or worse, be scarred!¡± Sylvia stomped forward. ¡°Not that you would understand. You always did exactly what you wanted. I had to fulfill my duty.¡±

    ¡°I went through with the marriage!¡± I rushed to catch up with her. What was I doing? This wasn¡¯t like me. I stopped running, stood my ground. ¡°I filled the contract. Once I left, he was free to re-marry.¡±

    ¡°He said he consulted the gods, and they told him to wait. Clearly, one person did read your letter.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t stop myself from staring, my jaw from dropping. Apis had caught up with us. He was looking over towards the temple, the splashing water.

    My mind was still on that long-ago night when I had written out the letters. My hand had been unsteady. I had spent months squirreling away all of the clothes and food I thought I might need, discreetly practicing my technique with my grandmother, enquiring with the cooks from remote districts about where there might be openings for a cook.

    I had written a letter to Sylvia. I had written a letter to my mother. ¡°I didn¡¯t write anything to him.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean? How else would he know you¡¯re still alive?¡±

    ¡°He can tell, because he doesn¡¯t have a soul,¡± said Apis. ¡°Remember?¡±

    We both stared over at him. ¡°It¡¯s actually very, very bad,¡± he clarified. ¡°If either of you dies without taking your souls back, you¡¯ll be in fealty to the gods until the world stops rolling. That¡¯s the same as if you¡¯d died after committing an unspeakable act of evil. In case you forgot that part, too.¡±

    ¡°You actually believe that?¡± Sylvia snorted. ¡°If you didn¡¯t send him a letter, then I suppose he just didn¡¯t like any of the other substitutes offered,¡± she added, sweeping towards the temple. The cobblestones had paled to marble tile, laid out in strange twisting designs to match the tentacles.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure my mother thought of something,¡± I said. I ran a hand through my hair, missing my cloak, missing the staff. I was losing track of all of the stability I¡¯d gained up north. I could really use the strength of just hitting something right now. ¡°Anyway, none of this is important.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean, not important? This is about my son!¡±

    ¡°Well, yes, we should continue to look for your son.¡± The tracks led around the outside of the temple, like her son had been trying to get inside and speak to a priest. Did they worship Teuthida? I didn¡¯t recall that about Sylvia. ¡°But I actually came by to ask you- what do you and your husband think of Voice Marcia?¡±

    Sylvia stopped walking. She turned, folded her arms, and glared. ¡°How many people do I have to tell this? We didn¡¯t murder her. ¡±

    ¡°So, ah¡­¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she said, turning back to follow the tracks, ¡°it was not¡­ a positive relationship. But how could it be? She was always pushing for more, more money, less time on the guards, less from the law. If Marcia had her way, this would be a complete theocracy.¡±

    Following behind Sylvia, I frowned and looked towards Apis. He shook his head, once, twice. So my thought had been right- that didn¡¯t match anyone else¡¯s description of her at all.

    We turned the corner as I began to ask my next question.

    As it turned out, I wasn¡¯t able to. ¡°Servius!¡± Lady Sylvia held out her arms.

    ¡°¡­.Mother.¡± It was the same snobby boy, although this time he was soaked in mud and dripping from the fountain. He was half-submerged, and at her comment, he stepped further out, reluctant.

    I looked behind the fountain, towards the door of the temple. There; under a curling stone tentacle. ¡°Duran.¡±

    He grinned. ¡°Madam Elysia!¡± The sword was half-out of the sheath. He was smudged in mud, too. His tunic was rumpled. He was not safely in the apartment. I folded my arms.

    ¡°The Fountain of Teuthida! Someone¡¯s- someone¡¯s coated it in mud!¡± Apis said, finger shaking as he pointed it towards the smudged marble. I closed my eyes in defeat. So: another day in the service of the gods.

    Andrena, did you know about my soul? If so, do you think you could give it back?

 32. Not Technically Forbidden

    Duran ran up to me before I could start interrogating him about what, why, and most importantly, how. He shouldn¡¯t have been able to cross the bridge into the Southern District- regardless of how he¡¯d even followed me. Based on his ability to navigate, I was surprised he hadn¡¯t gotten so lost he¡¯d left the city entirely.

    ¡°Madam Elysia,¡± he said. ¡°I went investigating!¡±

    ¡°¡­.ah.¡±

    He reached into his tunic. I winced at the crumpling noise and closed both eyes, not wanting to see what he¡¯d managed to find. The first week of his apprenticeship, he had informed me that he¡¯d created a new recipe; I had felt about the same level of fear, then.

    A piece of parchment was pushed into my arm. I opened one eye.

    A stack of crumpled letters were in his hand. ¡°Don¡¯t tell anyone,¡± he said, his voice at a completely normal volume, ¡°But I broke into the priest¡¯s desk. These letters were in a locked drawer, so they must be important, right?¡±

    Over his shoulder, I could see Lady Sylvia, holding her son- Servius, I supposed- at arm¡¯s length, careful not to get any of his mud on her dress as she demanded to know if he had any injuries.

    As he said that he¡¯d retrieved the letters, her expression froze. Not notably. Not in a way anyone else would have noticed. But I had spent the better part of our childhoods getting away with falsehoods with her- hiding underneath tables, pretending that we¡¯d never seen the live frogs smuggled into our bedchambers before.

    She looked away as soon as we made eye contact. I unfolded my arms and took the letters. ¡°Duran,¡± I said. ¡°Why don¡¯t you show me where you got those letters?¡±

    Duran was many things. Excitable, certainly. Bold, most definitely. Thorough, absolutely not. If he had actually found a useful clue, which seemed about as likely as me being chosen by the Pickle Goddess, then I ought to make sure he¡¯d gotten all of the letters.

    Apis was still standing, staring horrified at the fountain. ¡°This has to be breaking some sort of claim,¡± he said.

    ¡°Are you coming with us, or not?¡±

    ¡°Ah!¡± He glanced over at Duran. ¡°I hope you had nothing to do with this, young man.¡±

    Duran coughed. ¡°I was investigating.¡±

    Apis shouldn¡¯t have let him get away with that; in fact, any other night I would have taken over and made Duran spend some time cleaning the fountain. Even if we were technically sworn to Andrena for the time being, it would do him some good. It would be practice for cleaning dishes later.

    Still, we had another focus at the moment. ¡°We¡¯re going to the temple, checking on documentation from the priests,¡± I said. ¡°Will you look, too?¡±

    It was the first time I had offered him a choice, after the revelation. He had noticed my capitol accent before- had commented on how I didn¡¯t know as much as I should about the festivals, about the gods. Perhaps he had always suspected.

    Did it make a difference to our investigation, to our partnership, that I hadn¡¯t always been a cook? That I had once been raised here, come to pray at this horrible fountain? Spent my time counting all of the suckers on each tentacle?

    Apis, to his credit, didn¡¯t hesitate before nodding. ¡°We should speak to them about the events of the last week, anyway,¡± he said. ¡°Teuthida¡¯s voice was reputably the first one to call for a sequestering of the Voices. I wonder if she knew something and feared retribution.¡±

    Both of us looked at Sylvia, then. She was forcing Servius to take off his other boot and show his ankle to her, demonstrating that it wasn¡¯t broken.

    ¡°No,¡± I said, but it was empty. ¡°She wouldn¡¯t- she was never a killer.¡±

    The automatic refusal, though. That was rather suspicious.

    ¡°Come on,¡± said Duran. He grabbed at my elbow and pulled. ¡°I got to see a big desk, and they have a book full of numbers. Maybe it says who did it.¡±

    Lady Sylvia didn¡¯t follow us inside as we stepped through the doorway into the temple. Another reason she might be innocent, I thought, trying desperately to weigh the scales towards her. It just didn¡¯t seem right, didn¡¯t seem to match the girl I¡¯d grown up with. Sylvia had always been a little petty, perhaps focused on the strength of her family, but she had never been cruel.

    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    Voice Marcia had been kind, according to everyone I spoke to. One to help others, to care about those with less power than her. She had been old, too. Who would kill someone when you could just wait it out?

    ¡°It¡¯s just through here,¡± said Duran. His shoes echoed loudly on the tile. ¡°See?¡±

    The door swung open. I peered through, squinting at the desk. Sure enough, he had been inside; the desk was a complete mess, books thrown aside, drawer broken open. I saw, to my surprise, another copy of Where will the World Go? Tossed aside, the childish illustrations staring up at me. ¡°And no one saw you do this?¡±

    How could they have such abysmal security? Yes, Teuthida was the goddess of Truth and Illusions, but- well, it was a city. Surely Duran hadn¡¯t been the first to try stealing something.

    I thought of the letters, tucked into my closest pocket, and suppressed some guilt. Yes, he had succeeded, but it was for a good cause. If the letters didn¡¯t mean anything, I would give them back.

    ¡°I heard two people talking,¡± said Duran. He leaned down, tried to jiggle the drawer back into place. It gave a moaning squeal and then broke apart further, splinters of wood falling apart under his hand. ¡°That¡¯s why I came in. I didn¡¯t understand what they were talking about, and I wanted to¡­¡± He coughed. ¡°Um, I was going to ask them. About it. Definitely.¡±

    ¡°Eavesdropping is not a kindness,¡± said Apis, almost automatically. ¡°But not technically forbidden by Andrena.¡±

    Duran perked up. ¡°Really? Oh, so I was coming in to eavesdrop.¡±

    ¡°Well-¡±

    ¡°So you came in to eavesdrop, but you couldn¡¯t find them?¡±

    That didn¡¯t seem right. Where could they have gone? This place only had the one door. The windows didn¡¯t open, and I¡¯d only seen the two main rooms- one, with the door closed, and this one, where Duran had clearly explored it to the maximum. That, and the gigantic statue, made up the entirety of the temple. Yes, it was a large building, but most of it was made of space. Space to think about ¡°truth¡± and ¡°water¡± and stand and contemplate, I supposed.

    Duran nodded. ¡°I came in to look, but they were gone.¡±

    ¡°You checked the other room?¡±

    ¡°They were walking the other direction!¡±

    I peered into the drawer one more time before standing up, but he had told the truth; there was nothing much remaining. I straightened my tunic, then stepped out of the room, closing the door. Probably best not to steal further from other temples.

    If I was a priest of Teuthida, where would I go?

    I stepped back into the main center of the temple, closed my eyes. I started to walk in a circle, trying to feel for any direction to go. There was the faint breeze from the entryway, the cool night air scented with the air of the sea, the faint smell of mud, and the horrible stink of the Always taking it over like a cudgel to the head- mixed with the lavender and cloves that everyone burned to try and send it away.

    I was trying to recover from the scent-based assault when I felt it. Another ghost of wind, coming from behind me. I turned, holding my hands out.

    ¡°Madam Elysia? Are you well?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps she¡¯s trying to find her soul,¡± said Apis.

    ¡°I told you, I¡¯m fine without it.¡± That might have sounded a little testy. I was working! How was I meant to operate under these conditions?

    I walked with my eyes still closed, still following that faint breeze. I knelt down, hands working over pale stone and smooth carvings of tentacles meeting hands. It was the statue of Teuthida.

    ¡°Are you dedicating yourself?¡±

    ¡°That- you said Andrena chose you! You can¡¯t abandon her now!¡± That was real panic in Apis¡¯s voice. I was almost flattered.

    My hand dragged over one well-carved sucker. As I moved along it, I was able to compress it- a button. Metal, not stone. Cleverly concealed on the underside of the statue.

    With a faint, well-oiled sound, something clicked back. I opened my eyes.

    Where half of the statue had been before, a small trap-door opened below us. A dank breeze came up. It smelled of wine cellars, of earth, of worms.

    ¡°Why,¡± I said, ¡°Would the goddess of the water have a path underneath her temple?¡±

    ¡°Goddess below!¡±

    The cry came from behind us. Lady Sylvia and Servius had stepped inside of the doorway. Lady Sylvia herself had a hand to her mouth, eyes wide in shock. ¡°What a shock! Do you suppose they were up to something?¡±

    Ah, yes. I had been planning on interrogating her. I stared between her and Servius. Impressively, even though she had been inspecting him for injuries, she had managed to avoid getting even a speck of mud on her pristine dress. This was, I supposed, the kind of skill I had always lacked.

    ¡°Ah,¡± I said. ¡°Maybe they just wanted cold storage.¡±

    Duran put a finger to his lips. ¡°Shhh!¡± He cast a glance over to the other wing of the temple, where there was still a faint snoring echoing down the stone. ¡°We want them to stay asleep.¡±

    If they were still snoring after Lady Sylvia¡¯s shriek, they would sleep through the end of time itself. Still, he had good instincts.

    ¡°¡­Good idea,¡± I said, reluctantly. ¡°Lady Sylvia, perhaps it¡¯s best if you return home. We can resume our interview tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Surely it must have been urgent, if you came to speak to me tonight.¡±

    ¡°Well, you¡¯ve already denied it,¡± I said. I didn¡¯t want her to see whatever I would find. Something about cross-contaminating information felt wrong. What if she already knew too much?

    ¡°Nonsense,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s been too long since we had an adventure together, Elysia. Won¡¯t you let me come along?¡±

    I shouldn¡¯t have. I looked between her and Apis, crossed my arms. Sighed. Duran looked between her and Servius. His eyes widened in a silent request, although I couldn¡¯t tell which way he was thinking.

    ¡°Fine,¡± I said, finally. ¡°But the first time anything goes wrong, you¡¯re going back home. I don¡¯t have the money to pay your husband for the funeral rites.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± said Lady Sylvia. ¡°He¡¯d work it out with your mother.¡±

    My mother¡¯s name mentioned, the spirit in the room dampened adequately enough for me to focus back on the tunnel below. There were no lamps. Only the darkness, the tiled steps still carved with curling tentacles.

    Never let it be said that Teuthida didn¡¯t keep to a theme. ¡°Well,¡± I said. ¡°If a few priests can manage it, surely we can, too.¡±

 33. A Debt Repaid

    I expected the tunnel to be cold. Instead, it was uncomfortably warm, a little damp, and most definitely pitch dark. I fumbled around, trying to trace the edge of the dirt, and ended up grabbing someone¡¯s arm instead.

    ¡°Sylvia?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± said the voice. Apis, then.

    ¡°Ah.¡± I dropped his arm.

    ¡°No, you can- I¡¯ve got the edge of the tunnel, I think.¡±

    ¡°This should be an important lesson for all of us. Never leave home without a lantern.¡±

    ¡°Mother?¡±

    ¡°I am most certainly not your mother. And you should not be touching any woman there!¡± I jostled forward, towards Apis, before Servius could grab for me again.

    ¡°Don¡¯t speak to my boy that way!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m teaching him an important lesson. Unless you¡¯d like him to learn the hard way.¡±

    ¡°He has earned the right to do what he likes as part of his position in society. A right you would have, as well, if you hadn¡¯t abandoned us.¡±

    ¡°So, um, I shouldn¡¯t move his hand, Lady Sylvia?¡±

    ¡°Duran, just punch him.¡±

    ¡°¡­Servius, let go of everyone, and stay still until Mother takes your hand, all right?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t like this, Mother. I thought we would be using more swords.¡±

    ¡°What did I do to deserve two of them?¡± Oops, I said that one out loud.

    Before anyone was bold enough to answer me, we had come to another set of stairs. I only knew they were stairs because I tripped forward, nearly falling flat on my face before Apis¡¯s hand closed neatly around my upper arm and caught me.

    ¡°All right there?¡±

    His face must have been close to mine. He kept his voice low, as though he didn¡¯t want me to be embarrassed. Too late; I had just been defeated by a stair step. I was brought low. I straightened up, using him for support, and coughed as the other voices grew closer. ¡°There¡¯s a stair here,¡± I said. ¡°Watch your step.¡±

    Fumbling and in the darkness, we made it up one wide stair, then another; on the seventh, a faint bit of light cracked through what looked like wood grain. A thump sounded, a groan from Apis- he was a stair ahead of me.

    ¡°Watch your head.¡±

    Dirt rained down as he scrabbled above his head, trying to find the way out. I pushed up too. Between the two of us, one hand found a latch; the trap-door opened, and we were out.

    The door opened at the edge of the harbor. It was an unremarkable part of the city. The harbor and the dockside of the Capitol were used by all the districts, most of the business going through Central and Uptown, but some of it going to the Northern district when the industrial ships were brave enough to try the shallows.

    Even though the Southern district was in the deepest part of the harbor, they didn¡¯t allow many to anchor there. The Infamy was visible, just off-shore. But no docks had been built, no waste of the shoreline. Just walking paths, ways to observe the ocean. We have access to the best of the ocean, the best of the harbor, they bragged. But we won¡¯t use it. Not for the money. We don¡¯t need to- not anymore.

    The old pilings of the docks were still here, echoes of the stone being worn away. At low tide, a brave teenager could wade out and climb out upon them. I¡¯d spent some entertaining nights doing just that. Now I stared out into the waters. Just beyond the pilings, where it barely got deep.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t realize the Quarantine Ship was so close,¡± I said. ¡°I thought the district would be afraid of getting infected when the wind was too high.¡±

    ¡°No one thinks they¡¯re actually infected,¡± said Lady Sylvia. Under the light of the moon, she was dusting invisible dirt off of her hair. She was still perfectly clean, because she was cursed to remain perfect. ¡°It¡¯s simply a requirement of the church, because they¡¯re still angry the empire broke apart.¡±

    ¡°Also because the pox isn¡¯t visible until you¡¯ve been infected for two weeks,¡± snapped Apis. ¡°Unless you¡¯d rather be sentenced to being ugly?¡±

    Lady Sylvia sniffed. ¡°It¡¯s not like that! I didn¡¯t have an heir yet- being beautiful was actually important. For the succession! It¡¯s not as if you could understand, being- like you are.¡±

    ¡°Anyway,¡± I said. ¡°They¡¯re within reach of the pilings. I didn¡¯t realize it was permitted to dock that close to shore.¡± This side of the harbor, the rock dropped off sharply. But the Southern district was still petty, and refused nearly everyone.

    ¡°They¡¯re important visitors. Here for the festival. Of course we accepted them.¡±

    ¡°Still,¡± I said, slowly. The pilings were perfect for tying up a boat, even at high tide- a few next to shore poked out just enough to anchor a rowboat. No one would question the presence of one, since a few high-class councilmen still fished on sunny days.

    And I could see where a ladder had been thrown over the side of the Quarantine Ship. On the perfect side for someone coming from the Pilings. A boat floated next to it, tied to the side. A rowboat, as it happened. Exactly the type an amateur fisherman might use. ¡°I wonder why this tunnel exists, and why that ship is so close to it. Seems like a strange coincidence.¡±

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    ¡°They had to keep away from the Infamy,¡± snapped the Lady Sylvia. ¡°What if there was an escape?¡±

    ¡°What if,¡± I said, slowly. Then, tying up my skirts, I went for the first piling.

    It was harder than it had been when I was a teenager. I was quite a bit heavier, for one, and I didn¡¯t have nearly the range of motion. But still, my old bones had a bigger sense of self-preservation than I¡¯d had before, and I was able to scrape my way up even as Lady Sylvia cried that this was very unusual.

    When I was finally on top of the piling, staring out at the next one- a rather far jump, but I¡¯d rather jump than swim- I turned back to her, hands on my hips. ¡°If you¡¯re scared, you don¡¯t have to come.¡±

    Duran was already wading up, trying to climb up the same piling. They were barely big enough for two teenagers; fitting me and Duran would be an effort. I inhaled, tried to tell myself it wasn¡¯t a muscle memory I could forget. I pulled back, and jumped.

    The night air whipped across my face, salt and panic and everything like I had never left. My hand reached out, grabbing for the piling. My face hit against stone. My arms scraped down, my body slipping.

    I had missed. But I still had grip of the piling. I scrabbled, pulling myself up. I had hit my nose badly, my face throbbing. Behind me, I could hear Duran¡¯s triumphant cry as he pulled himself up onto the first piling.

    There were four rows of pilings. Only a few more jumps to go. Then, at the last moment, we would swim; swim for that boat, for the ladder up.

    I could do it. I would. If I had been able to do it at fourteen, I could do it now.

    Pickles got better with time. Didn¡¯t I?

    I swiped across my face, where it was sticky with blood and some horrible seaweed smell. The piling was an arm¡¯s length across, partially broken off from collisions with boats and rotting with old seaweed and barnacles. Once, it had supported an entire dock. The city had been born on this dock.

    It would have to do more work today. I pulled back again as Duran shouted towards me.

    ¡°Are you well, Madam Elysia?¡±

    I soared. For a moment I was fifteen again. Then my feet landed, hard on the pilings, and I could feel every ache in my hips, and I was most definitely thirty-six, too-heavy and in the wrong place entirely.

    I missed the inn. I turned back, watching the others. Servius and Duran, on the same piling; Servius, slipping off, Duran offering him a hand. Both of them one behind me. Apis, giving up entirely and just swimming, very slowly. Lady Sylvia, jumping gracefully.

    She hadn¡¯t stumbled once. Her dress was still unmarked, although she¡¯d tied it up around her knees, too.

    There was one more jump to go. I looked down and Apis was treading water below me, looking concerned. ¡°Are you sure?¡± He said.

    ¡°It¡¯s faster this way.¡±

    ¡°For Duran, maybe,¡± he said. ¡°I know you can swim.¡±

    ¡°Feel free to say you told me so if I miss,¡± I said. ¡°At least this way, I don¡¯t have to deal with wet skirts until the last minute.¡± I pulled back. I jumped.

    At the last minute, I could tell- I was going to miss. I leaned forward, aimed with my entire belly. A larger target towards the pillar.

    When I landed, it smacked all of the breath out of me. I ached. But when I rolled over, stared at the sky, back against the pillar, I couldn¡¯t help but laugh. I had defeated the pilings after all. I reached up with a hand, swiped the blood off my lip. One more distance to cross.

    I sat up and slipped into the water. At least I only had a short swim left to go.

    When I finally pulled myself up into the boat, I was the first to get there. Duran and Servius were incredibly slow, both weak swimmers; Apis had to help them the last part of the way, encouraging them with such notes as ¡°not like that!¡± and ¡°breathing! Yes!¡±

    Lady Sylvia was the last to arrive, pushing herself out of the water like a dolphin and swiping off the water with the back of her hand. ¡°Well,¡± she said. ¡°Not the way I anticipated my evening going.¡±

    ¡°Feel free to leave at any moment,¡± I said.

    ¡°And miss your incredible discovery?¡± She said. ¡°I couldn¡¯t.¡±

    This was what I had missed. The half-smile as she met my eyes. Why hadn¡¯t she read my letter? She could have forced that husband of hers to come north. I could have made her oat-cakes.

    I turned away instead of saying any of that, started climbing the ladder. It was steady enough, easy to get on deck. There weren¡¯t many crew up on deck at this time of night. Only a few hands, playing cards by the light of a lantern.

    ¡°That¡¯s got to be cheating,¡± muttered one.

    ¡°It isn¡¯t my fault you just play whatever high card you¡¯ve got!¡± said the other. ¡°It¡¯s called strategy. Consider using it next time.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me,¡± I said, stepping up to them. ¡°Have you seen a pair of priests come by, lately?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes,¡± said the first guard- a boy only a few years older than Duran, as far as I could tell. ¡°They came to bless the-¡± He paused for a little too long, stared out at something behind me. ¡°¡­.the residents. Would you, ah-¡± He paused again. I looked behind me, but all that stood behind me was the rest of my investigative crew. ¡°¡­would you like to see them?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± I said. He seemed reluctant to leave his game, but the other guard rolled her eyes. Finally, he turned his cards over- he was losing badly, I noted- and stood up. ¡°Right, then.¡±

    He pulled two a lanterns off the wall, lit both with a single match before letting it flare out with the wind.

    A door creaked open as he nodded to another guard. They all had weapons, I noted; was this normal for a quarantine ship? Are they trying to escape?

    ¡°Just through here,¡± he said. A great wooden door, at the back of the ship, just below the deck. On another ship, it might have been used as storage. Here, it was empty- save for a pair of chairs.

    He cleared his throat. ¡°Take a seat, please.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t bring us to them?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re otherwise occupied,¡± he said. He set a lamp down on the table. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­. go ask about it. Please, sit. We can bring refreshments if you¡¯d like.¡±

    I squinted. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you were meant to eat anything on a Quarantine Ship.¡± I didn¡¯t move.

    ¡°Please don¡¯t make me get the other guards.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t personal,¡± said Lady Sylvia. ¡°Honestly, Elysia, you¡¯re just too competent. I can¡¯t have you out in the city right now. There¡¯s too much unrest as it is.¡±

    Another guard had appeared; he lurked behind her, sword out. She and Servius were moving towards the door. Servius stepped towards her, whispered something in her ear. She sighed.

    ¡°Duran? That¡¯s your name?¡±

    Duran had been clinging to my side, eyes wide. ¡°¡­yes?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll come with us,¡± she said. ¡°Servius thinks he owes you a debt, for some reason.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m staying with Madam Elysia!¡± He clung closer to me.

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be stupid,¡± I said. ¡°Go with her.¡±

    He stared up at me. I jerked my head towards her. When he didn¡¯t move, I leaned in and muttered in his ear, ¡°If you¡¯re in here, none of us get to do anything. If you¡¯re out there, you can be helpful.¡±

    ¡°Oh!¡±

    He jostled towards Lady Sylvia. I looked between the guard in the room, the guard behind her. She rolled her eyes. ¡°You won¡¯t be able to take them.¡±

    ¡°You always underestimated me.¡±

    ¡°You always overestimated yourself.¡± She snapped her fingers before I could prove her wrong, and the door was closing; it only had a handle on one side. I stepped forward, hand scrabbling over the wooden surface, trying to pull it back.

    I was too late. With a thud, I heard a dead-bolt close on the other side.

    There was a long, uncomfortable silence. I let my head fall forward, thump on the wood. It was still, unfortunately, completely solid.

    I sighed. ¡°That could have gone better.¡±

    ¡°On the plus side,¡± said Apis, ¡°At least I¡¯m not worried about my landlady anymore.¡±

 34. Violation of Contract

    The first hour, we didn¡¯t say much. Apis and I each took a chair, and we watched each other, from our mutual locations of misery. What was there to say? We had failed.

    The second hour, or what served for it, I tried to sleep. I couldn¡¯t.

    I finally sat up, back aching. The lantern was flickering. Neither of us could bring ourselves to blow it out; I was afraid we wouldn¡¯t get another one, and I didn¡¯t much like the idea of sitting in the dark for hours. Apis was probably leaving it alight out of politeness.

    ¡°Do you really care that much about my soul? I thought being in service to the gods was your whole thing.¡±

    Apis was slumped in the chair, staring at the flame. ¡°It¡¯s one thing to dedicate yourself on purpose,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s another to be forced.¡±

    The light flickered. I let my head fall onto the table with a thump. It hadn¡¯t taken long to catalogue everything in this room. The bare wooden walls. The single table, well-built if sloppily maintained, with edges weathering and a few rude sayings etched beneath it. The two chairs. The lantern.

    Nothing else. At this point, I would take torture. At least it would be interesting.

    ¡°You could have just left without marrying him,¡± he said. He put his head down, stared at the flame. ¡°Then you would still have your soul.¡±

    ¡°Well, the dress had already been made. Besides, it would have been a violation of the contract.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡±

    The silence stretched out a little too long, then. I cleared my throat. ¡°What do you suppose Duran will do?¡±

    ¡°I hope he¡¯ll go back and speak to the priestesses,¡± said Apis. ¡°Candida will keep him safe.¡±

    ¡°So we¡¯re both agreed that he¡¯s not going to get us out of here.¡± I ran a hand along the table, feeling for where the wood was splintering apart. ¡°Ugh! I should have recruited a better apprentice.¡±

    ¡°I thought he tried very hard,¡± said Apis. ¡°I liked that salad.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t cook anything. You would accept the bare minimum.¡±

    ¡°Well, he¡¯s learning. You had to start somewhere, too.¡±

    ¡°My grandmother would never have tolerated that.¡± I scrunched up my nose. ¡°Although¡­. Well, yes. I was pretty awful when I started, too.¡± I sighed. ¡°Andrena should have chosen a lawman for this. I was the worst person for this job.¡±

    ¡°Her options probably weren¡¯t very wide.¡± Apis hadn¡¯t moved. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you offered yourself.¡±

    I froze. ¡°What do you mean, offered myself?¡±

    ¡°She can only select an instrument of her will if someone offers their service willingly,¡± said Apis. ¡°To be honest¡­ well, I¡¯ve been wondering why you did.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t-¡± That time, kneeling in front of the alter. Anything you want, so long as I don¡¯t have to stay here- ¡°Goddess below,¡± I said. ¡°It was my fault.¡± I stood up, wanting to pace, and then sat back down again. There was nowhere to go. ¡°This is what I get for praying!¡±

    ¡°You really didn¡¯t know.¡± Apis sounded like he was on the verge of- laughter, almost. But not the happy kind. ¡°How could she choose you, if you didn¡¯t know?¡±

    ¡°Maybe no one¡¯s offering themselves,¡± I said. ¡°Did you?¡±

    ¡°Well- I already serve her,¡± he said. ¡°I assumed she would offer me the choice if she needed me.¡±

    ¡°So you didn¡¯t!¡± I grabbed at my hair. ¡°Who does, these days? She¡¯s the most unpopular of the four major gods, isn¡¯t she?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a harsh way to put it, I¡¯d say-¡±

    ¡°People want to follow glory. They want to follow truth. Even those priests of the wild, wandering around and setting up shop in the woods, have a certain mystique. But people only go to Andrena once there¡¯s already a problem. No one becomes a dedicant!¡±

    ¡°Everyone likes the spring festival,¡± said Apis. ¡°Dancing around the pyre, throwing the flowers. Honoring the honey.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but no one dedicates their lives. Even your priestesses were saying they weren¡¯t able to get dedicants. I¡¯m sure Cabellus is still turning people away, and no one worships Cabellus properly anymore. But being a priest of Cabellus- that¡¯s impressive.¡±

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    Dedicants were lifeblood to gods. If prayer gave gods the magic running through their veins, the ability to do miracles and save lives- like my unfortunate run-in with the pickles earlier- and other gifts- like Cabellus¡¯s famous swords - dedicants were their actual workers on the ground, both on the surface of the world and in the realm of the gods. I had been assuming that Andrena had chosen me because she hadn¡¯t liked her other dedicants. Now I saw the truth.

    ¡°Fine,¡± muttered Apis. ¡°So she¡¯s less popular. But people still pray to her! More than most. People need Andrena. In the darkest points of their lives, when they need new beginnings. She¡¯s not- she¡¯s not falling. In fact, compared to other gods, she¡¯s got belief flowing endlessly. People care about what she can do. ¡±

    ¡°Of course she isn¡¯t.¡± I laughed. ¡°But suddenly I understand why she chose me.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t about my pickles, or about any ability of mine. It wasn¡¯t my past, or my strength of mind. It was for one reason, and one reason only. I¡¯d never been able to keep my mouth shut when it mattered.

    ¡°I was in the right place at the right time,¡± I said. ¡°And I never paid attention in temple school when they told us what to say and what not to say when praying.¡±

    ¡°She wouldn¡¯t have chosen you if you weren¡¯t suited,¡± said Apis. He leaned forward, face intent. ¡°You can¡¯t just think she would have been so- so random-¡±

    ¡°She had no other option,¡± I said. ¡°Face it. This is where this always would have ended. Neither of us is competent enough to fix this.¡±

    I slumped back, in the chair. I should have felt thrown away, like I had failed. But knowing how I had been chosen had actually improved my mood. There was nothing special about me; no technique I could have used to fix this.

    I was in this little room, with its two small chairs and the lantern slowly running out of light, because Andrena needed to improve at recruiting.

    ¡°Those letters,¡± said Apis, when the lantern flickered again. ¡°Have you-¡±

    ¡°Is there a point?¡± I said. ¡°What are we going to do with them?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m bored. Can we not at least look?¡±

    I had no point to counteract that, so we unveiled them. The lantern was getting low, then, several hours in; we had to lean in, shoulders pressed together, to make out the words.

    Whoever the priest of Teuthida had been corresponding with had awful handwriting. It was all scrawled out, in a great hurry, as though they were worried they¡¯d be stopped at any moment. Even worse, as far as I could tell¡­ they had been receiving messages that made no sense.

    Twenty-two bells ring as I write this; is it fourteen, sixteen, or three more hours to wait? Stay lucky until then.

    -A

    When I was thirty-one, I saw the moon cross over the sun and try to set us into darkness. Did you see it, too? Did you wonder if we were trying for something too large to understand?

    -A

    ¡°Do you think-¡±

    ¡°Who knows what they meant,¡± said Apis. ¡°Not very clear messages, are they?¡±

    I frowned. The third and fourth were more bland, a code I couldn¡¯t see, or maybe just genuine exchanges of pleasantries; speaking about the weather, and someone¡¯s new baby. ¡°I wonder who A is. When was the last eclipse?¡±

    ¡°Must have been twenty years ago,¡± said Apis. ¡°I don¡¯t remember one happening since I was a child. Unless you were aware of another one?¡±

    I shook my head, flattened more messages.

    The fifth seemed more suspicious.

    24 / 28 / 39 / 40 / 16 / 13 / 14

    ¡°I just don¡¯t get it,¡± I said, finally, frustrated. ¡°Why all of the numbers?¡±

    Apis frowned, tapping his lip as he sat back. ¡°The numbers don¡¯t make sense, either. If these notes are from the Voice of Teuthida¡­¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Well, she¡¯s too young. She¡¯s only in her thirties. It doesn¡¯t line up with the eclipse.¡±

    I frowned. ¡°More than that. No one¡¯s ringing twenty-two bells on any clock tower.¡±

    What did they mean by this? We both leaned in again. ¡°Why so many numbers?¡± The other messages were clean of numbers, just generic enquiries about people¡¯s health and welfare. ¡°Do you know the voice¡¯s given name?¡±

    Apis shook his head. ¡°I only knew Voice Marcia. And even she¡­ well, we weren¡¯t close. She was important.¡±

    The lantern flickered again. I watched the oil lower, tried to turn over everything I¡¯d seen so far.

    ¡°If it¡¯s a code,¡± I said, ¡°It has to be something they could decipher easily.¡± I closed my eyes, tried to picture the office. ¡°A memorized index? Something to do with a religious text?¡±

    ¡°That sounds too obvious,¡± said Apis. ¡°What if someone else knew it? They¡¯re priests.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t remember any obvious indices from the office of the priests anyway. I let out a sign of frustration and tried to think again of everyone we¡¯d met. How had we spoken to so many people, gathered so many clues, and yet I had still ended up here?

    People slotted into different camps, pretty easy to categorize; those that aligned with Voice Marcia, and didn¡¯t much care why; those that cared about the small gods; and those that didn¡¯t.

    I frowned. There was only one that didn¡¯t really make sense. ¡°The man at the temple of the small gods. The caretaker.¡±

    ¡°What about it?¡±

    I had taken a long time to think. Apis was re-reading the notes, hand running over the small text again like it would say something different this time.

    ¡°The book from Small Gods,¡± I said. ¡°Where will the World Go?¡±

    I didn¡¯t remember reading it as a child, just associated it vaguely with being a children¡¯s book. I did know, though, that it wasn¡¯t a small god¡¯s book; it was the beetle¡¯s book, through and through.

    Apis looked up, brow furrowed. ¡°You¡¯re right. That doesn¡¯t make sense. Why would the priests have been reading that? It''s for children.¡±

    ¡°Teuthida isn¡¯t aligned with the beetle, either.¡±

    I had written a few ciphers of my own, in school. Nothing advanced- just sending out invitations that the schoolmarm or my mother couldn¡¯t decipher.

    The easiest had always been to assign numbers to words in a text, track it to a specific book.

    What were the chances that two cases of arson, in different parts of the city, were both seen next to the same book? A children¡¯s book, no less?

    ¡°It¡¯s not solid evidence,¡± said Apis. ¡°I don¡¯t have the book memorized, unfortunately. We need a copy.¡±

    ¡°Sylvia has to meet with us eventually,¡± I said. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll request some reading material.¡±

    ¡°Of course. I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll be happy to help.¡±

    I thought he might have smiled, but I couldn¡¯t quite tell. The lantern flickered out.

    We were, finally, in complete darkness.

 35. [Sidequest] Consistency. Quality. Strength.

    Twenty-five years. Cornelia had been head housekeeper at the residence of Lord Julian for twenty-five years, and before that, a cook; before that, she had dusted for ten, and her mother and father before her had served.

    They had endured through the rise of the parliament, through the fall of the kings. Through the destruction of the Empire. The manor house had changed owners, had changed flags, had changed facades. Cornelia¡¯s line, their service, had stayed strong. She represented the backbone of the Southern District. Consistency. Quality. Most of all, Strength.

    She folded her arms. The boy in front of her scuffed his shoe along the floor, avoiding her eyes. ¡°That¡¯s hardwood,¡± she said. ¡°Imported from the northern expanse, cut down from the heart of a great tree. Installed two years ago. You¡¯ll be polishing that. Scuff marks are intolerable. What will the neighbors think?¡±

    ¡°These are the servant quarters. Who¡¯s visiting?¡± The boy was scratching at his own chin, twitching. He was meant to be holding to attention. Really! She had been tested before. Tested for her loyalty, tested for her competence. Never before had she been tested like this!

    The Lady Sylvia had simply deposited this boy in front of her. Declared that he would be her assistant. Was this a form of advanced test? Was she going to be inspected on how well she could transform this abject failure into a true representation of their quality of service?

    Well. Cornelia had never failed before. She reached out and grabbed his wrist before he could scratch his chin again. ¡°Name!¡±

    ¡°Duran!¡± He squeaked, his voice breaking.

    ¡°Wrong! While you are here, you have no name! You are a serving boy, and while you are here, you are a Servant of Lord Julian. If anyone asks after you, that is how you will respond. Now! Name!¡±

    ¡°Servant of-¡± He coughed. ¡°Ah, I really think this is a -¡±

    ¡°Try again!¡± She tightened her grip. Ah, now this truly was a challenge. He was too old to break easily. She tried her best glare.

    ¡°Servant-of-lord-Julian,¡± he muttered, avoiding her eyes. Bad posture. Sloppy, with mud all around his clothes, and that inappropriate sword. She clucked her tongue, inspecting him.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s a start.¡± She released his hand and stalked around him, looking for any more weaknesses. The movement in the kitchen continued in the background, the crab floating in the tank. Another test; they had to preserve it, in case the Lady Elysia returned. Would she return? How long was the crab meant to stay alive?

    So many tests, and during festival season. Perhaps Cornelia should retire soon. Moving faster than the boy could anticipate, she pulled the belt off and grabbed the sword away. The boy shouted and chased after her, but Cornelia turned on her heel and strode towards the hallway closet.

    ¡°A sword is inappropriate for a boy in service,¡± she said, falling into the easy lecture she could remember from her time as a girl. ¡°You will always remember that the only one who carries arms in this household is the guard service. You will never fear for your own safety. There is no safety to consider. You are an instrument, not a person to be protected. There are only three factors to consider. Do you know what they are?¡±

    The boy lunged for the sword. Cornelia put it neatly in the hall closet and locked it, putting the key back around her neck with a feeling of deep satisfaction. The result of incredible service and trust; all of the weapons of the household, put in her hands.

    ¡°Um,¡± he said, finally stepping away from the locked closet. ¡°Spice, oil, and warmth?¡±

    Cornelia frowned at him. ¡°What are you, a cook? No! Consistency! Quality! Strength! Repeat after me.¡±

    She thought she could feel the ghost of her father leaning over her shoulder, watching.

    The boy swallowed, throat bobbing. ¡°Consistence¡­ quality¡­ strength!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll do,¡± she said. ¡°I hope you know how to mop.¡±

    After she¡¯d found him a mop and a bucket full of soapy water, she retreated back to the kitchen. It was a pleasant way to spend a few hours, watching the cogs of the clock she¡¯d carefully constructed tick over. They were all tired, nervous with energy. Lady Sylvia had gone to join the Lord Julian, the young Lord Servius had been tucked into bed; they were all waiting for their Lord and Lady to return, to prepare the house as they wanted. No one could rest until their employers had returned.

    Even Duran, new as he was, couldn¡¯t resist the effortless culture of efficiency. She watched as he continually tried to sneak away, only to be drawn back in; the floor was cleaned, then wiped up with a rag, then finally polished. All without a word from Cornelia. Her subordinates took the reins, showing him what was needed.

    Consistency. Quality. Strength.

    As she let her shoulders lower slightly, satisfied, a shout rang throughout the quarters.

    Stolen story; please report.

    ¡°Lady at the door!¡±

    ¡°At your positions!¡± Cornelia snapped, then straightened her apron. With a last glance at the new boy, his head down as he polished, she sighed. There was nothing to do about it. Perhaps the Lady Sylvia had already decided how her performance was, and she must face the music.

    With one last prayer to Cabellus, she walked into battle.

    ¡°My bath is prepared, I hope,¡± said the Lady Sylvia. She handed Cornelia her gloves. Cornelia could see the sun rising behind her. If she had been a lower quality of servant, she might have asked how it had gone.

    She could see fine lines around Lady Sylvia¡¯s eyes, a slight exhaustion in the roundness of her shoulders. The Lady Sylvia was worried about something. Certainly it wasn¡¯t Cornelia¡¯s place to press. Instead, she bowed. ¡°At once, my Lady.¡±

    In fact, there had been a bath prepared all night. Every thirty minutes, Drusilla, the handmaiden to Lady Sylvia, had been sent to refresh the water. She had needed to climb three flights of stairs with all ten buckets of water, sweating and aching, after emptying the tub. Cornelia knew from experience that Drusilla would be aching in bed that night- although, since they woke at dawn, she wouldn¡¯t get to sleep much. Only a few minutes before they began preparing for breakfast. Even if the mistress didn¡¯t wish to eat, their purpose as servants was to anticipate her every delight and demand.

    Cornelia followed the Lady Sylvia up the stairs. ¡°Shall we prepare a bath for Lord Julian as well, my Lady?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯ll be occupied for a few hours more,¡± said the Lady. ¡°Don¡¯t mind him. Is Servius well? Still in his chambers?¡±

    Cornelia turned to check. There, at the end of the hallway, was one of her most loyal footmen; a boy named Crispinus, Crisp for short, who had only one working eye but very sharp ears. He¡¯d been dusting the same vase all night. He gave her a slight nod.

    ¡°Servius has been sleeping soundly,¡± she said, keeping her head down. The carpet was slightly battened. She needed to speak to Drusilla about brushing the carpet after she refreshed the water. Exhaustion was no excuse for a failure in service. ¡°A little lamb for us.¡±

    ¡°If that boy is a lamb, then I¡¯m a sheep.¡± Lady Sylvia sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I did to earn such a rebellious child. I¡¯ve only ever done my best for this family.¡±

    ¡°Of course, my Lady,¡± said Cornelia. She bowed, opening the door. ¡°Will you be needing anything else?¡±

    ¡°No. In fact, don¡¯t wait for the Lord Julian. He needs to know that his late nights have an impact on this family.¡± The Lady Sylvia reached up, pulled the pins from her hair, and paused. ¡°The boy I gave you. He¡¯s still here?¡±

    Cornelia frowned. ¡°Of course he is.¡± How could she have lost the boy already? What did she think he was? He was a little twitchy, perhaps, but she¡¯d seen worse.

    The Lady Sylvia nodded. Cornelia thought she saw a small lowering of her shoulders in relief. ¡°Of course,¡± she said. ¡°I simply- no, never-mind. He simply seemed rather troublesome. I should have known you would have it all in hand. Thank you, Cornelia.¡±

    Cornelia watched her for a moment more, suspicious she¡¯d missed another test. But the Lady Sylvia simply resumed undressing, moving towards the tub at the side of the room- it was still steaming, so Drusilla had maintained her duties- and Cornelia finally retreated.

    Something made Cornelia¡¯s neck itch. Why had Lady Sylvia been so worried?

    Cornelia didn¡¯t run. That wasn¡¯t suitable for someone in her position, of course. She was someone of Quality. She did, however, walk quickly, down to the hallway. First, she slipped past Crisp and knocked sharply on the doorway. ¡°Cleaning,¡± she said. ¡°Here to collect your linens.¡±

    A small lie, but something she¡¯d earned. No response. She tried not to be bothered. Servius slept very deeply, after all.

    Cornelia tried the door. Locked. After a moment, looking over her shoulder, she jiggled the handle in the way she¡¯d grown used to after twenty-five years operating as head housekeeper in this house. Under her deft hand, it opened easily.

    Beyond, there was a quiet room. The covers were untouched. The desk was messy, full of written plans.

    The window was open. There was no trail of sheets outside. Only a convenient tree, which a boy, if he was clever and rather limber, could climb down easily.

    Cornelia did not swear. That would not be appropriate. Instead, she stood very still, closed her eyes, and then opened them.

    ¡°Crisp,¡± she said. ¡°Did he pay you?¡±

    ¡°He said it was for the good of the house,¡± said Crisp. ¡°And also that he outranked you.¡±

    Technically true. Cornelia was going to find that boy and- and- well, she didn¡¯t know what she was going to do. Bring him to his mother, perhaps.

    She spun on her heel and strode past him. ¡°Close the door,¡± she said, through clenched teeth. ¡°No one knows of this.¡±

    ¡°Not even-¡± Crisp was quiet. He wasn¡¯t very bright.

    ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°Not even. This is between us. Unless you¡¯d like to be fired for your indiscretion?¡±

    ¡°But he said-¡±

    ¡°There is no higher power,¡± hissed Cornelia. Her blood was high. ¡°You answer to me. Not to Lady Sylvia. Not to any god. Not to Servius. This is your one warning. Listen to it well. I am the one you work for. I am the one who determines the quality of the service in this house. Lady Sylvia tells me what is needed. I tell you. You are never to jump the order of command again. Is that clear?¡±

    Crisp trembled, but didn¡¯t speak. Cornelia didn¡¯t look at him again before she strode down the stairs. She kept her posture high. She checked the hallway closet first.

    The sword was missing. The one she¡¯d taken from the boy, the inappropriately large one with the wrapped hilt.

    Servius should not have had a key. She remembered earlier that night, when he¡¯d taken his father¡¯s sword. Had anyone checked him afterwards? There were many ways for a precocious boy to steal keys.

    Cornelia closed her eyes and took another deep breath. Consistency. Quality. Strength. She had to stay strong. She was a pillar, not a waving tree in the wind.

    She strode into the kitchen. ¡°The boy,¡± she said. ¡°The new one. I¡¯ll speak to him.¡±

    He had spent some time with Servius, perhaps; he must know where the boy would be. The cook looked up, her hands red and half-boiled from steam. She¡¯d already started making the breakfast platter.

    ¡°Ah-¡±

    Cornelia turned on a heel, scanning the kitchen. Where the boy had knelt before, polishing the floor, there was nothing but shining wood. ¡°Where,¡± she said, trying to remain calm, ¡°Did he go?¡±

    ¡°The Lord Servius said he had a special request for him,¡± said another one of her footman, who was carrying a stack of dishes in from where he¡¯d been washing them outside. They shone, perfectly gleaming. Excellent work as always. ¡°Something about a task for his mother?¡±

    Cornelia pressed her mouth closed. Very firmly. She could give up now.

    That wasn¡¯t how she was built, however. Consistency. Quality. Strength.

    She was Cornelia, of the Southern District. Born to serve the greatest lords of the city. She had risen among the ranks, to lead her peers. She would not be defeated by a boy with bad posture and a rebellious lordling. ¡°I see,¡± she said. ¡°Continue service. I shall return shortly.¡±

 36. The Pox

    I had never been the seafaring sort. There was a reason I had fled home by land, not by sea; I didn¡¯t trust most ships not to sink, and the stink of the ocean got into the back of my throat and made it difficult to taste anything.

    It was worse when we were plunged into darkness, forced to listen to nothing but rattling above us and the lapping of the waves against the hull. I stayed leaning against Apis for a while, just so that I wouldn¡¯t lose my place in the room.

    I didn¡¯t realize that I fell asleep, leaning on his shoulder, but I startled awake all the same when the door slammed open. My mouth was sticky with drool- I was briefly embarrassed but quickly re-focused on the important things- and my head pounded. It had been too long since I¡¯d had food, or water.

    It was the same guard from before, yawning. He had a single plate of food, another lantern that I was embarrassingly envious of, and an empty chamber-pot tucked under one arm. He tossed the chamber-pot into one corner, slapped the tray of food onto the table, and turned to leave. He didn¡¯t refresh the oil in the lantern.

    I cleared my throat, feeling sticky and tired. ¡°Please. The light-¡±

    I¡¯d only been in here half a day, and I was already saying please? Who had I become? I stood, knocking over the chair. ¡°The light. You should add more oil.¡±

    The boy looked at me. I could have been his mother, in another life. He shrugged, unbothered by my request. ¡°Not supposed to,¡± he said. ¡°Oh, but thank you for the reminder.¡± Then he leaned in, snatched the lantern away, and tucked it under his arm. Then, before I could say anything else, he walked out, slamming the door again and leaving us in darkness.

    ¡°That- that-¡±

    ¡°At least we have food,¡± said Apis. There was a crunching noise next to me, a crumbling. I sighed, then began feeling my way back over to the table. There was an unfortunate moment where I tripped over Apis, but after a moment we sorted ourselves back out and ended up sitting in the chairs again, both gnawing on what counted for food over here.

    ¡°No wonder they¡¯re so desperate to make it onto land again,¡± I offered, ¡°If this is what-¡±

    ¡°Wait,¡± said Apis.

    I stopped talking. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize you were so-¡±

    ¡°I thought I heard something.¡±

    He grabbed my arm, stopping me from chewing. Then I heard footsteps as he walked away from me, a thump- what was he doing?

    ¡°There¡¯s someone underneath us!¡± He hissed.

    Well, yes. That was how ships worked. Although he seemed rather excited about it, so I put my food in another pocket and tried to walk over near where I had heard his footsteps. There, kneeling on the wood, I put my ear against the planks.

    There wasn¡¯t much. Just muffled chatter, high-pitched voices. Children, then, teens at best.

    ¡°Hate this,¡± said one. ¡°Want to go home.¡± Came another voice.

    ¡°My mum¡¯s going to be so mad,¡± said another one.

    Next to me, Apis made a strange shuffling movement. A second later, I heard his voice, muffled up against the floorboards, a yell. ¡°Hello? Is anyone down there?¡±

    I heard nothing from where my ear was pressed against the floorboards.

    ¡°Hello?¡±

    The following silence almost echoed. We waited there for what felt like an eternity, ears pressed to the floorboards. ¡°We come in peace!¡± I tried.

    Still nothing. I sighed and rolled onto my back, sitting up and taking another bite. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s just the crew,¡± I said.

    I didn¡¯t believe it. Crew of a ship usually didn¡¯t speak about their mums being mad.

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    I had other concerns, however. The savory biscuit they¡¯d given us was so hard I had to gnaw at it with my back molars, and they hadn¡¯t given us any water. ¡°I might die just from this food,¡± I said. ¡°Do you think that was Sylvia¡¯s plan?¡±

    ¡°I have mead,¡± said Apis.

    ¡°Really,¡± I continued, not really listening. ¡°I mean- it¡¯s one thing to trap me, but to feed me-¡±

    A flask pressed into my side. I paused. ¡°Did you actually bring mead?¡±

    ¡°I usually have some on me.¡± Apis actually sounded embarrassed. ¡°It¡¯s not- I don¡¯t typically drink it. I bring it to advertise to pubs, if there¡¯s one around. But, well, we¡¯ve been busy lately. So, ah¡­¡±

    ¡°Well, no time like the present to start trying your own product.¡± My night- or morning, whichever it was- had just improved infinitely. ¡°You know, I begin to see the hope Andrena saw in you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fairly sure the priestesses just wanted someone to experiment on,¡± said Apis. I forgave him for that, because the flask was uncorking in my hand, and I could have some mead to wash down the horrifying concoction we¡¯d been served. I pressed it into his hand, wherever it was in the darkness, and lay back. I could still hear nothing below us.

    ¡°Think we scared them off?¡±

    ¡°Next time maybe I shouldn¡¯t shout,¡± said Apis.

    ¡°Of course,¡± I said, rolling my eyes. Then I remembered that we were in the darkness, and I had been betrayed, and it was a waste to roll my eyes in the first place. ¡°You¡¯re so terrifying, you scared them off.¡±

    I swallowed another draw of mead, then handed it back. It was very good, was the problem. What was the city thinking, not giving him a license?

    ¡°I¡¯ve been called intimidating!¡±

    ¡°How many times.¡±

    ¡°Well, once.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll bet you all the money I have it was about the bees.¡±

    ¡°Andrena doesn¡¯t smile upon betting,¡± said Apis. He flicked my knee. ¡°I¡¯ll take the flask, if you¡¯re done.¡±

    We probably should have saved some of the mead, given that I didn¡¯t think we were getting out of here anytime soon; but Apis made an extremely strong brew, and before I knew it, he was telling me old stories about the priestesses as we waited for the guard to show back up. I found myself staring towards the door, trying to think over what weapons they had. If only I¡¯d had the staff.

    ¡°I really think I could take him,¡± I said. ¡°As long as he shows up alone.¡±

    ¡°Please do not fight anyone,¡± said Apis. ¡°We do not have the political strength to bail you out.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s we, now? Who are you recruiting to save me? Last I checked, we¡¯re alone in here.¡±

    ¡°Well, alone, I certainly couldn¡¯t.¡±

    I snorted, leaning into his shoulder.¡°I still think being imprisoned in a cell on land beats being imprisoned here. On land you¡¯re not likely to sink.¡±

    ¡°Just what I needed, more to worry about.¡±

    <hr>

    I had planned on staying up, keeping a vigil until the door opened again. Instead, I woke up sprawled out on the floor- at least my clothes were still on, I was fairly sure- and with an aching head. I groaned, sitting up.

    ¡°Did they come to visit again?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m speaking to them.¡± His voice was low, somewhere next to me. I scratched at my head. ¡°What?¡±

    Apis didn¡¯t respond. I put my ear to the floor again.

    ¡°We¡¯re letterboys, old man!¡± Called up a voice. ¡°Who¡¯re you!¡±

    ¡°I brew mead,¡± said Apis, which was deeply misleading. ¡°I¡¯m with a representative of Andrena, here to pursue justice for Voice Marcia.¡±

    There was a silence, after that. Then a muttering through the wood. Finally, another voice shouted out, ¡°We didn¡¯t do it!¡±

    ¡°I thought not,¡± said Apis. His voice echoed strangely. I thought he might be speaking directly into the wood, as much as he could. ¡°Are you trapped here too? How long have you been here?¡±

    ¡°Dunno! Got put in after they broke us out. The priests said they were with the Voice!¡±

    I wanted to sit up, to punch the air. I had known it would be better for them to tell the truth! To stay! But no- they had thought it was better to go in that stupid boat, to throw their shoes at me. I cupped my hands around my lips, spoke towards the wood, too. ¡°You¡¯re the ones that threw shoes at me?¡±

    There was another silence. Then, ¡°Did you keep those?¡±

    ¡°No!¡±

    There was a momentary burst of cursing that they should not have known.

    I paused, then said, ¡°Do you know who put you in here?¡±

    ¡°Dunno,¡± said the boy. I wanted to hit my head on something.

    ¡°Is the Voice of Celeres in there?¡± Said Apis. ¡°Has she been hurt?¡±

    ¡°No. Dunno where she is,¡± said the boy. ¡°We haven¡¯t seen her since the fire.¡±

    I leaned forward. There was one more question I¡¯d wanted to ask the letterboys, and I¡¯d never had the opportunity to - I¡¯d even gone to the Laundresses guildhall to try and find answers. I might as well try now, even if I couldn¡¯t do anything about it. ¡°Do you know anyone with the initials L.L.?¡±

    This was met with a long silence before someone finally shouted up, ¡°Only Laelius!¡±

    ¡°Is he¡­ rather tall, a bit slender?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything! I already told the guards!¡± Came the shout, so loud I had to actually push myself back from the floor. ¡°I was sick all last month.¡±

    ¡°Are you well?¡± Apis sounded genuinely distressed.

    ¡°With what?¡±

    ¡°The pox,¡± said Laelius, presumably. ¡°My mum sent away my stuff to get cleaned. Now everyone thinks I¡¯m a murderer. I didn¡¯t do anything! I didn¡¯t even make any money!¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re well now, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine. Just fine! I can deliver anything, so long as they let me out!¡±

    I sat back at that. So; we had confirmed someone else had taken Laelius¡¯s clothes. But there was only one person with those initials, only one set of clothing that had been burned.

    Why had Candida seen two people? She had seemed so sharp. How had she missed something like that?

    I stared into the darkness, listening to the letterboys shout about missed income, and couldn¡¯t find the connection.

 37. [Sidequest] Eviction Notice

    The letterboy shifted from side to side. He looked uncomfortably between Helvia and the open window. ¡°I was meant to deliver this message privately.¡±

    ¡°My tenant won¡¯t spread the word,¡± said Helvia. She was halfway up the stairs and didn¡¯t feel kind enough to walk down and speak to him privately.

    She¡¯d just begun to head up to give another eviction notice, and he¡¯d interrupted her. It was making her annoyed. Frankly, she¡¯d thought all of the letterboys had gone into hiding when that temple had been burned down. She¡¯d even done her duty as a citizen of the Capital and reported a few to the guard herself. Something must have changed, if they were bold enough to be delivering messages again.

    Either that, or a few new boys had just been recruited. This one did look rather young.

    Helvia¡¯s downstairs tenant, a polite young mother named Sabina who snored loudly and shared a bedroom wall with Helvia, smiled at him gently.

    ¡°It¡¯s all right. She¡¯s correct, I would never gossip about a message. I¡¯m just trying to let my baby enjoy the fresh air.¡±

    The smog still hadn¡¯t lifted. You could barely see to the next block. The baby in her arms coughed.

    The boy was too polite to remark upon it.¡°I see. Then¡­ this is from the Guild of Laundresses, to be given to Honorable Senior Laundress Helvia, Whose Person is-¡±

    ¡°Just tell me when the meeting is,¡± said Helvia.

    ¡°But there¡¯s also a whole introduction, and I¡¯m supposed to list all the people inviting you. Also, they were very specific about me including the details about snacks. Something about coiled and fried squid served and sealed? And there was some code I was supposed to-¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t care. When?¡±

    ¡°Tonight,¡± he muttered. ¡°Eight.¡±

    ¡°Hmmm. I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡±

    Helvia had done her share of blackmail, fighting, and political maneuvering to get enough money to own this place. Now that she did, she thought it was all insufferable. She had her own problems, and she didn¡¯t much like the current member running the guild. Also, their snacks were usually horrible. As the boy turned to leave, she held up a hand. ¡°Wait. Did they mention drinks?¡±

    ¡°An open bar,¡± he said.

    ¡°Hmm.¡± As she watched him run, Helvia turned back up to the door. Before she could attend any meeting, she had to deal with her current problem. Apis. She took the stairs two at a time and knocked.

    There was no response.

    Helvia didn¡¯t consider herself to be an unreasonable person. She leaned in, knocked again. Inside the apartment there was only the vague sound of buzzing.

    It had been two days since the boy had left. Two days since she¡¯d seen that man, the thorn in her side. Apis. She¡¯d hoped, when they¡¯d shook hands on the deal, that he¡¯d bring good luck from Andrena. Favors from the temple. They made nice lace, and she¡¯d heard rumors that they might have new renovation funding. Renovation funding that could be used on a building that housed one of their temple favorites.

    Instead, she¡¯d gotten bees. Helvia knocked again, louder.

    Sabina was still looking out the window. ¡°If it helps, I think he keeps the key-¡±

    ¡°I know where the key is kept!¡± Helvia pulled out her own key ring. ¡°I have my own!¡±

    Fine, then. She¡¯d show herself in. She listened to the buzzing again, hesitant. Did the bees- defend their territory? Surely they didn¡¯t remember something so long ago.

    Feeling a little nervous, she straightened her shoulders anyway and unlocked the door. This was her building. It had been smelling strange, smoky, since yesterday. Worse than usual- even with the blocked chimney. Not to mention the buzzing getting louder.

    When she stepped inside, it was to a hurricane of bees. Helvia stepped back, shrieking, hands over her face.

    They were everywhere. On her hands, on her eyes, pressing into her nose. She stepped back, slipped. Only when she¡¯d fallen back against the balcony did they begin to disperse. Heart beating rapidly, she finally lowered her hand.

    No stings. The bees were gone, still buzzing all over, but they hadn¡¯t stung her.

    Helvia closed her eyes. She didn¡¯t pray, as a rule. It was a waste of time, and besides, the gods demanded too much in exchange for what she thought was not enough benefit. They gave little powers to their Voices, let them conjure little magic tricks. Nothing for the real people, though, the ones like Helvia that actually ran the world.

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    She sent up a prayer in the moment to Andrena anyway. It included every curse she knew and a few more she¡¯d invented on the spot. Why bees? Why now?

    She had to try again. First, though, she would arm herself. Helvia took the steps two at a time, leaving the door open in case the bees wanted to evict themselves. Luck could always turn.

    ¡°Are you all right?¡± Sabina frowned as Helvia ducked into her own doorway, nudging her baby as it began to cry. ¡°Did they sting you?¡±

    Helvia ignored her, rummaging through her stacks of treasures. Whenever someone moved out, or was evicted, Helvia kept whatever she could. Underneath a stack of pots and pans, there was a teetering pile of linens and a moth-eaten pile of cold-weather clothing from the man who¡¯d emigrated here from the northern territories, claiming the ghosts kept following him.

    Helvia missed that tenant. He¡¯d been so quiet at night. If only he¡¯d paid on time. She pushed the sweaters aside and grabbed for a sheet.

    When she re-emerged, holding the sheet like a shield, Sabina was still leaning out the window. The baby giggled, grabbing at the sheet.

    ¡°Let go.¡± The hand stayed. ¡°Sabina, tell your baby to let go.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s just curious.¡±

    Still, the hand retreated. Helvia took a moment to throw the sheet over her head before taking the steps again, two at a time.

    She had to know. Was Apis actually home? Had he started to hide from her, trying to use his bees as a defense? Foolish! No one could avoid Helvia! Come any disaster, come any defense- she would retrieve her rent payment! He had stretched out his time for days. Now, she would finally be free of the bees, of the sugar. She would no longer have ants trying to move in. They didn¡¯t pay rent either!

    This time, the bees clung to her, but the sheet gave her the illusion of safety. Helvia could only see the room in dim shapes, proceeding by watching the floor carefully. Bees were starting to slip in underneath the sheet. She had to move quickly.

    ¡°Apis! If you¡¯re hiding, come out! I¡¯ll find you!¡±

    No response. She kicked at the table. There was an increased volume in the buzzing. She retreated quickly, sniffing.

    What was that smell? She would have noticed if fire was spreading outside of the hearth. Yet¡­ it smelled strange. Almost like oil. She frowned. Who would be stupid enough to bring lantern oil in here? The fire was all the lighting you¡¯d need. Was Apis foolish as well as poor?

    Helvia stumbled further. There were now three bees inside of the sheet as she groped around furniture, knocking her shin into the bottom of a chair. She had to stop, using a few more oaths. There was a thumping from below her.

    ¡°Are you well?¡± Sabina¡¯s voice echoed up from below her.

    ¡°Fine!¡±

    She tried to inhale deeply. Pain was nothing. She would complete this eviction.

    There! She had almost slipped, fabric slick under her foot. What was that? It reeked, stinking of ash and oil. Helvia pulled up both of the fabric pieces and inspected them in the dim light that seeped in through the sheet. Bees hovered around her hands, getting in the way as she rotated the suspect.

    Gloves. As she pulled them up to her face, she could smell it even from here. Fishy, but mostly clean oil. Whale oil. Who had the money to own whale oil and then use it on gloves?

    Especially when Apis should be using his money on paying rent to her instead?

    She was still trying to figure it out, frowning, when the realization struck her like a bolt of divine inspiration. ¡°He was so nice, though,¡± she said. She held the gloves out with fresh horror. They didn¡¯t look like murder instruments.

    But it all fit. The night he¡¯d spent out- she always noticed when Apis came back. He was loud on the stairs, his boots thumping and waking up Helvia. She slept lightly.

    The way he¡¯d smelled of smoke. The way he hadn¡¯t gone to the temple, afterwards.

    He had never mentioned the previous Voice to her before. Had this all been an inside job? Had he been paid off? Was there some political motivation?

    Or was it more simple? He had been raised by the temple. The priestesses that had come by to¡­ say hello to her had been clear about that. They¡¯d wanted to make sure she knew he was under the temple¡¯s protection. Had he expected money from the temple, too?

    He hadn¡¯t seemed like a murderer. But Helvia knew her duty. She retreated from the apartment as quickly as she could, thumped the door shut and yanked off the sheet. She could feel herself shaking.

    She¡¯d never had an arsonist for a tenant before. If she listened carefully, she could still hear the shouting of the protestors, blocks away at the base of the spire. They were only getting angrier and angrier as time went on without a solution.

    What would they do if they found out Apis had committed the arson? Would they come and hurt her building?

    Helvia could see it now. The protesters- in her mind, a mob comprised of the same screaming face and big sign, all coming in and crushing her windows, throwing fire. Would she own the next building to be burned?

    She didn¡¯t have the money of a temple. If they destroyed her building, she wouldn¡¯t be able to re-build.

    Helvia had spent years working as a Laundress, doing guild politics and fighting for the best contracts, to afford this. Not to mention the blackmail. She wasn¡¯t going to let Apis, a strange man obsessed with bees, ruin her life now.

    ¡°Did they sting you? I think I still have some of that ointment left,¡± said Sabina.

    Helvia stuffed the gloves in her pocket. There was only one way out of this. She had to report it to the guards, and make sure they got everything out of the apartment before anyone else found out. That way, no one could¡­ let their attention stray.

    Surely, the guards would imprison him quickly. She could even tell them where he¡¯d gone; South-Side. If she was lucky, the reason he hadn¡¯t come back was that he¡¯d already been imprisoned. Then, once she was free of him for sure, she could turn over the apartment to someone innocent. Nice.Maybe a beetle nun, or something like that. Something peaceful.

    Helvia shuddered. Actually, maybe someone non-religious. A merchant.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to be gone for a few hours,¡± she said to Sabina. ¡°Don¡¯t wait up.¡±

    ¡°I thought you had to go to that big guild meeting tonight. Wasn¡¯t that message urgent?¡±

    The guild could wait. Helvia had her own concerns. ¡°Tell them they can deal with their own issues,¡± she said. She turned on her heel and started down the road. She only started running when she was sure Sabina couldn¡¯t see.

 38. Fingers Into the Pie

    The next time the door opened, I was ready. First I ran for the door, although the guard anticipated my movement; as I ran, he simply closed it on me. After a few moments, his voice came through.

    ¡°I¡¯ll only come through if you promise not to be next to the door. I don¡¯t want to hit anyone with a sword.¡±

    ¡°I want to make a deal!¡± I said, through the wood. I had seen brief flashes of light, and now I was adjusting to the darkness all over again.

    ¡°I can¡¯t make any deal. What power do you think I have?¡±

    ¡°Bring us Lady Sylvia! I want to speak to her!¡±

    There was a long silence.

    ¡°Please step away from the door,¡± he said. His voice was low, begging, sad. ¡°I really don¡¯t know if I can bring you Lady Sylvia. But I have to feed you.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t eat until you bring me Lady Sylvia.¡± That came out as more of a question. I wasn¡¯t that dedicated to seeing her.

    I wasn¡¯t actually sure how dedicated I was to solving this mystery now, not really. Knowing that I had been chosen only out of desperation; that made me lose my already minimal effort. But I had been thrown in here out of petty instinct. That, of everything, irritated me.

    Sylvia had no reason to throw me in here. She couldn¡¯t know everything. I had only been here for three days- well, probably four, by now. She ought to come and speak to me herself.

    ¡°Um-¡±

    ¡°In fact,¡± I said, getting myself angrier as I thought about it, ¡°Don¡¯t even open that door unless Lady Sylvia is with you! I¡¯ll attack you unless you bring her!¡±

    ¡°Ah-¡±

    ¡°And tell her to bring a book with her! Otherwise, I¡¯ll refuse to negotiate!¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Where will the World Go!¡± I said. ¡°I want a copy! And-¡±

    ¡°Look,¡± said the guard, through the wood. ¡°Can I give you this food? I¡¯ll do my best with the other stuff. Really.¡±

    ¡°And I want a lamp,¡± I added, but I stepped back in time to let him slide the food through. He looked frightened as he did, retreating instantly and closing the door quickly.

    ¡°Well,¡± I said, watching the door close. ¡°I tried.¡±

    ¡°I doubt the Lady will come to speak to us,¡± said Apis, who had stayed cowardly and quiet the whole time. ¡°She¡¯s going to leave us in here until the vote¡¯s complete. Then she and her husband will take advantage of the new world, using the law as a single pillar. It¡¯s so obvious, now.¡±

    ¡°I really don¡¯t think so. If they wanted to take over, why would Teuthida work with them?¡±

    That was the crux of the matter; we¡¯d argued over it for hours, over days. Lady Sylvia and her husband clearly wanted to change the balance of power in the Capital- in the country at large.

    I thought the Lady Sylvia hadn¡¯t been part of the arson. That she¡¯d only taken advantage of the chaos and confusion, used it to her own advantage. I¡¯d seen it many times before; the way she could turn any problem around. She¡¯d done it as a teenager, too.

    A specific incident stood out clearly to me, an example of this behavior. We had been brought into the headmistress¡¯s office for skipping class. We¡¯d left with bonus points on our records because Sylvia had convinced the old Warhammer we¡¯d actually been cleaning the forest. I had been swept along, another teenager who couldn¡¯t possibly want anything but the best.

    ¡°By that same measure, why would the priests of Teuthida work against their own interests?¡± argued Apis, who didn¡¯t have the same amount of experience with Sylvia. ¡°I think they were tricked- Sylvia must have lied to them about what the arson would accomplish. Perhaps they thought that it would give people more sympathy for the temples.¡±

    Without knowing what the letters actually said, we couldn¡¯t decide. Instead, we could only argue in circles. I huffed out in frustration and kicked at the wall. Below us, a letterboy yelled. They weren¡¯t doing well, either.

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    ¡°What does it matter,¡± I said. ¡°What does any of it matter! We¡¯re stuck in here and we won¡¯t get out. It¡¯s not like-¡±

    The door swung open. Illuminated in the light was Lady Sylvia. She was wearing a horrible dress, some peasant-style, and her head was covered with a hood. She was carrying a lantern, a book tucked under her arm.

    ¡°Well,¡± I said. I was so stunned I forgot my initial plan- to tackle her and run. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to dress up, just for me.¡±

    ¡°I heard you were refusing to eat,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°I hope you aren¡¯t taking this¡­ personally. I do still see you as a friend, Elysia.¡±

    ¡°Can you blame me for wanting to speak to you?¡± Before I could get control of myself and run for it, the door had closed behind her. We were trapped inside, the three of us.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get any bold ideas,¡± she said, stepping across the floor, boots thudding evenly as she finally set the lantern down with a click. We¡¯d only been in the darkness for a day, by my reckoning, but I couldn¡¯t stop staring at the light, still. It felt like the center of my world. ¡°I¡¯ve told the guards to only open the door at a specific sequence of knocks from me.¡±

    ¡°I really did want to talk to you.¡± Lie. ¡°I thought we were friends.¡±

    Sylvia sat down, re-arranged her skirts, and placed down the book next to the lantern. That left the chair for me or Apis. Without any further discussion, I took it.

    ¡°What did you expect? You can¡¯t honestly have expected me to believe this¡­¡± she gestured to me. ¡°This lie about working for Andrena.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± That brought my world to a stop.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure your mother claimed we were working together,¡± she continued. ¡°As usual, she only gave you half of the information.¡±

    ¡°My mother?¡±

    ¡°You should have come to me first. I certainly wouldn¡¯t have forced you into the center of this.¡± Sylvia¡¯s lips tightened. ¡°But it¡¯s too late now- I have too many cogs turning. After the colony¡¯s flight, I¡¯ll have to return your host gift. If it helps, I can claim you were on the hunt until the very end.¡± The returning of a host gift was the strongest way she could exercise her power beyond accusing me in court; she would essentially be banishing me from the city. I would care more about it if I wasn¡¯t actively imprisoned in a ship, at the moment, by her command.

    ¡°I am not working with my mother,¡± I said. ¡°Never have been. Never will be. She doesn¡¯t even know I¡¯m in the city.¡±

    ¡°Oh, of course,¡± said Sylvia. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, demure. ¡°I do apologize. You¡¯re the Voice of Andrena. That¡¯s why you¡¯ve been¡­. hmm, let¡¯s see¡­ attempting to free letterboys, starting fights with the small gods, consorting with known pirates, and¡­ oh, yes! Not approaching the Spire.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m here to find justice,¡± I said, defensive.

    ¡°You¡¯re here to get your mother¡¯s fingers into my pie,¡± she said. ¡°She¡¯s still angry about that little mess last year. I¡¯m sure she¡¯s angry she didn¡¯t get an invitation to our plans this time around. No matter: easily forgotten.¡±

    ¡°Pretend that I wasn¡¯t told anything,¡± I said, desperate. ¡°What did I ruin?¡±

    ¡°Ruin?¡± Sylvia laughed. That, of everything, annoyed me. Once, I had been considered worthy of being involved in her plans.

    Upon reflection, however, had I been involved? I had been the one to jump first, to try bold athletic feats, to explore the woods first and light the cigar. She had sent me to commit the crimes, had created the codes with me. But I hadn¡¯t always been involved. When it had been important- when she¡¯d been trying to marry that idiot Lord Julian- I¡¯d found myself iced out.

    Where we had once been two friends, dodging authority together, I¡¯d found myself trailing behind. Watching her laugh with new friends as I taste-tested snacks at the edge of a room.

    I watched the Lady in front of me and realized something. We hadn¡¯t been apart for fourteen years. We¡¯d grown apart long before that.

    ¡°No,¡± she continued. ¡°You didn¡¯t ruin anything. You only slowed it a little, and that¡¯s for the best. Julian¡¯s always too impatient for my taste.¡± She leaned forward, put her hands over mine. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Elysia. It¡¯ll all be over soon.¡± She smiled, teeth gleaming. ¡°Besides. I have some jewelry that can go missing easily, and I think that can cover whatever your mother promised you. Yes?¡±

    ¡°What did you think Apis was doing?¡± I said, after a moment.

    ¡°Sorry?¡± She seemed genuinely confused.

    ¡°The other person imprisoned with me. Apis.¡±

    ¡°Hello,¡± he said, still half in the darkness.

    ¡°Oh,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ve no idea. I thought he was just some¡­¡± She gestured vaguely. ¡°You know, some priest you paid off. None of my spies really mentioned him, other than the priestesses.¡±

    ¡°At least tell me about some of your cogs,¡± I said. I needed to get something. Behind me, I could hear Apis shifting. We had both forgotten about him; he was just out of sight, in the darkness beyond the lantern. ¡°It¡¯s boring in here. What could it hurt? It¡¯s not like I¡¯ll leave.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you a hint,¡± said Sylvia. ¡°When the truth comes out, the hammer district¡¯s going to be very busy indeed.¡± She winked at me, then drew back, patting me on the arm. ¡°Now, I really have to be going. Can I be reassured that you¡¯ll keep eating, now, and behave for the guards?¡±

    Absolutely not. I kept quiet, behind her back, as she stepped towards the door. I lifted a hand, illuminated by the lantern, and pointed for Apis.

    For all of his faults, he didn¡¯t hesitate. He crept up next to me, raising his hands in what looked like a boxing stance. Could we overpower both of them, our strength combined?

    I recognized the code from school as Sylvia tapped it out. Her name, repeated twice.

    Then the door widened, into brilliant light, and I lunged forward. I wrestled Sylvia to the ground, her hood flying off. She shrieked, hand pressing into my gut. My superior weight meant I kept her down even as she kicked at my shins. I could see Apis running out of the corner of my eye; he might actually make it.

    Then something came cracking down on the back of my head, and I saw nothing but bright light. It faded at the edges, spiraling out. I tasted blood on the back of my tongue. Everything went black.

 39. [Sidequest] Play Dead

    The lace fluttered, bobbins clicking. Prisca folded her arms, looking between the priestesses. ¡°You have to understand my position,¡± she said. ¡°Is it too much to ask that-¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have to understand your anything,¡± said the older priestess. She was militant in the way that women who had lived through the dissolution of the empire sometimes were, hair cut short and eyes sharp enough to notice every motion Prisca made. ¡°What are you? Some half-rate Voice that only came to town in time to try and get a piece of the action? Go back to whatever village spawned you, and stay there. Some of us are trying to do real work. Build temples that last, not foment unrest and then take our business elsewhere.¡±

    The bobbin clicked, the lace rotated. The long-haired priestess next to her sighed, handed her a bobbin. She had avoided Prisca¡¯s eyes entirely, beyond welcoming her to the tent and offering her a jar of honey for an outrageous price.

    ¡°I am not,¡± said Prisca, drawing herself up and being insulted even though she knew it wasn¡¯t worth it, ¡°Some half-rate- I am the Voice of Carmen, Goddess of Music and words that matter, and I have been fighting for the defense of your Voice! Marcia understood our struggle!¡±

    Well, she hadn¡¯t. Not really. She could still remember the way Voice Marcia had looked at her. Like she was some child, trying to sit with the adults before she was tall enough to reach the plate. Adorable. A dog performing tricks.

    But they had to understand. If the Small Gods were crushed, if Carmen¡¯s grace was successfully ignored this year- next decade, it would be just as easy for Andrena to be locked out of the Spire. Before long, it would just be that horrible insect, determining the path of the country as it pleased.

    Prisca shuddered. It wasn¡¯t right, leaving a country to something with more than two legs.

    The older woman scoffed, rotated the bobbin. Prisca looked away and tried to calm herself. Candida understood. She knew that the future was a more equal Temple. One that let all gods speak.

    Of course, with Voice Marcia gone, and Candida¡­ ¡°You really haven¡¯t seen her?¡± She said. ¡°Not even-¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s busy. We¡¯ve been working here all festival,¡± said the priestess with the braid. ¡°Truly. But she can handle herself.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not about handling herself.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps she didn¡¯t want to speak to you,¡± said the short-haired one. ¡°Stopped understanding your struggle, and all that.¡±

    It just didn¡¯t add up. Prisca crumbled up the pamphlet she¡¯d brought, pacing in the darkness of the awning. ¡°She really didn¡¯t come to join you at the festival?¡±

    ¡°Of course not. She knows she has to help maintain the second temple. Unlike you, we actually have worshippers to care for.¡±

    Prisca stopped pacing and blew a piece of hair out of her face. It was so hot here, the crush of people just outside full of chatter and seeming to press in at all times.

    Mostly they were chattering about normal concerns, what the beetle might bring in the year to come, about the incense they could buy, about hunger and where they worked. Yet her pamphlets had been working. She could hear the chanting at the base of the spire, how people were begging for justice. She could hear the murmuring just outside. Yes. Someone cared. Someone wanted honesty in this city.

    ¡°She wasn¡¯t at the other temple. I already checked.¡± A truth for a truth. She didn¡¯t want to betray Candida, not to these old bats that wanted to stick their noses into everyone¡¯s business and thought they were better than her. Than everyone.

    Still, Prisca had already betrayed her cause by coming here. Would it be so much, to betray her hand a little further?

    ¡°We¡¯ve been speaking. Daily. She didn¡¯t come to our meeting-place. When I spoke at the temple, none of the neighbors had seen her.¡±

    Prisca had spent all day yesterday, wondering, worrying. She¡¯d convinced herself that Candida had been needed here, with only three days left until the colonies of beetles took flight for the end of the festival. She¡¯d rushed here as early as she could this morning, wanting answers.

    Now she watched as the two priestesses stiffened. ¡°She didn¡¯t report for work? You¡¯re sure?¡±

    ¡°I suspect your charming personality scared her off,¡± said the short-haired one, not looking up. She clicked another bobbin over. ¡°I¡¯d suggest less pamphlets next time.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t-¡± Candida had been an ally. Yes, one with not much power. But Prisca needed every ally she could get, and Candida had been a witness. It would have been brilliant. The light breaking over the spire, as Candida teared up- she could do that on command- her hands trembling, admitting how she¡¯d seen it.

    The young-faced woman, burning down the temple. Obvious, as she testified. An attempt by Cabellus to frame Teuthida. Prisca had presented her evidence at the daily meeting she held at the base of the Spire. The people were ready to hear the testimony. Already, the guard had stopped trying to arrest them. There were too many protesters. Too many pitch-forks and not enough cells to hold them.

    No one could agree on who they wanted to tear apart, but she could feel it. It was almost like music. The feeling of revolution.

    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    ¡°She¡¯s very important to the movement,¡± she said, instead. ¡°We have to find Candida.¡±

    ¡°Well, if she isn¡¯t at work, she¡¯ll be at the boarding house-¡±

    ¡°I checked the boarding house,¡± snapped Prisca. ¡°Don¡¯t you manage your priestesses?¡±

    ¡°Bold of you to say,¡± said the short-haired Priestess. ¡°Given you don¡¯t have any at all.¡±

    ¡°Hello? Is anyone there?¡±

    They both stopped speaking. There, barely peeking over the drum of lace. It was a boy. He had an awful haircut, blond and dome-shaped. Behind him, another boy, twiggy and dark-haired. They both stared at the priestesses. ¡°I knew it!¡± declared the boy.

    Prisca was sure she recognized him from somewhere. She squinted. Why did he look so¡­ familiar?

    ¡°You owe me two copper,¡± said the blond one, turning to the taller boy. He held out a hand. The other boy, who was dressed in much nicer clothing and looked a little like he should be holding his nose, sniffed in disdain.

    ¡°It¡¯s not worth much to know where a stall in a festival is.¡±

    ¡°But they¡¯re still making the lace! I said they would be!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the one that was with the false Voice,¡± said Prisca, finally putting her finger on it.

    Prisca prided herself on maintaining a good network of information. She¡¯d known the false Voice almost as soon as she¡¯d been in the city- a bard had been performing in the Pig¡¯s Tail, the pub she¡¯d announced herself in, and Prisca had made discreet enquiries afterwards, making sure she knew where the woman was going.

    The boy had confused Prisca from the very beginning. Candida had told her he was, indeed, part of the woman¡¯s retinue. Prisca had watched it herself; the way he¡¯d been given tea, fed.

    She still had no idea what his purpose was. Especially now that he was without his mistress entirely, and had apparently multiplied.

    In all honesty, the entire scam had confused Prisca. Why pretend to be a Voice, if you didn¡¯t want to enter the Spire?

    ¡°Where has your lady gone?¡± she tried.

    She had to try twice before she finally made it through the argument. Both boys looked over.

    ¡°She was stolen,¡± said the blond boy, screwing up his face in anger. ¡°By the Lady Sylvia! They locked her in a boat!¡±

    The Priestesses of Andrena looked at him, hesitant. ¡°A boat?¡± tried one.

    The other one leaned in, whispering in her friend¡¯s ear.

    Prisca had no such hesitation. She stepped forward, put on her best smile. ¡°That sounds horrible,¡± she said. ¡°Absolutely terrifying. I¡¯m so glad you survived. Why don¡¯t I buy you a honey-snack, and you can tell me everything about it?¡±

    It took two honey-glazed snacks and one fried piece of meat to get through the story, ducked into an alleyway where they wouldn¡¯t be overheard. It included too many diversions- including a very long story about sleeping next to the harbor, and an extended argument about building boats, none of which Prisca cared about- but finally she thought she figured it out.

    The two boys had escaped from a rich house in the Southern District. They had wandered around, lost, in the Hammer, and ended up sleeping in an old warehouse next the harbor. Only this morning, when the crowds had begun to head towards the festival again, had they managed to get here and- serendipitously- meet her. All that time, the false Voice and the man Apis had been in the hull of the quarantine boat.

    Prisca leaned against the cobble and tapped her foot in her favorite drum rhythm, trying to think it out.

    In front of her, the boys were practicing with the swords again- stupid, but she would allow it. She could hear the chanting of the crowd just out of sight. She should make more pamphlets.

    There was only so far pamphlets could take her. She needed someone to testify about the crimes committed upon the temple. The horrors of the law, the injustice in the church. This woman, this ¡®Voice¡¯¡­well, she didn¡¯t know if she could trust Elysia. Certainly, she was a liar. Prisca hadn¡¯t seen her do any of the acts of magic a real Voice could do. Voice Marcia had grown small plants, made flowers bloom.

    Prisca had watched Elysia drink chamomile tea and look disgusted. Clearly not the real voice.

    Did the crowd need to know that, though? ¡°You¡¯re sure it was the temple of Teuthida?¡± she asked the boys.

    Duran, the blond one, looked up from where he was trying to bandage a cut on his forearm. Prisca realized vaguely that she probably should have told them not to fight with the swords. Ah, well. No one had lost a limb yet.

    ¡°Of course I¡¯m sure.¡±

    ¡°Hmmm.¡± She folded her arms again. The woman had seemed quick to anger. Perhaps, with the right motivation¡­ and there was the man, Apis. Based on everything Candida said, he was very reliable. If she could convince him¡­

    It was worth a try, if she couldn¡¯t find Candida. She nodded sharply, pushing away from the wall.

    First, they had to create a trail. A source of evidence, showing that they were in the right, and that Teuthida, working with the Law (oh, this was delicious) was in the wrong. Then, hopefully, Prisca would find some evidence that it had been Cabellus all along. Or, even better, the Beetle.

    ¡°To the guard station. Put away those swords, you¡¯re going to hurt someone.¡±

    ¡°I thought that was the point!¡± said the ratty one, Servius, but he followed quickly enough.

    The guard station for the temple district had, at one point, been beautifully-built out of well-carved wood and painted in bright colors to help people find it. Then it had been half-burned, re-painted, re-built partially in stone, and then painted again in dark colors, presumably in the hopes that it would avoid any further burning. There was a broken window where someone must have thrown a brick. It was boarded up, with dents in the wood where someone had clearly tried to throw another brick at it.

    Prisca gazed at the front of the guard station with great satisfaction before she stepped inside. The other Voices had said her little pamphlets would do nothing. Oh, how times had changed.

    When she pushed open the door, the man behind the counter ducked. ¡°I told you,¡± he said, from below the counter. ¡°We aren¡¯t releasing-¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t about that,¡± said Prisca. ¡°I¡¯m here to report a missing person.¡±

    ¡°And you brought armed guards?¡±

    He still hadn¡¯t emerged from beneath the counter. This wouldn¡¯t do. Prisca leaned over, frowning down at him. ¡°Marcus, this isn¡¯t professional. Are you going to let me report the missing person, or not? Last I checked, it wasn¡¯t illegal to carry a sword.¡±

    ¡°I swear,¡± he muttered, pushing himself up and avoiding her eyes, ¡°They said the temple district was a good position, peaceful¡­¡±

    There was a strange buzzing noise in the station. Prisca met his eyes and smiled. She made sure to show all of her teeth. ¡°I¡¯m here to report Apis, foundling of Andrena, missing. Likewise, Elysia, Voice of Andrena, missing. Last known location-¡±

    Marcus, shuffling through his papers, frowned. ¡°Ah-¡°

    ¡°What?¡± Prisca frowned. ¡°If this is about the inciting violence charge, I¡¯ll have you know that I am still well within my rights to report someone missing.¡± She was counting on it, in fact. The city had to know there was a problem in order to fail to solve it. That way, it would be even more heart-warming when Prisca herself solved it.

    Or, well, when she had someone else solve it. She wasn¡¯t typically the hands-on type.

    ¡°No,¡± said Marcus. ¡°We, uh, it¡¯s not that.¡± He pointed a single finger at an entry. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ I can¡¯t report Apis missing. He¡¯s already classified as a fugitive.¡± He jerked a single thumb towards the back, where the buzzing was getting louder. ¡°We even have all of his belongings confiscated, on rights of the city.¡±

 40. Unusual Hospitality

    Well, I didn¡¯t expect to see you here so soon, said Andrena.

    I wasn¡¯t on the ship. There were no guards for me to fight, even as I raised my hands, blood rushing. There was only the quiet click of the ice in her drink, and the small little stirring as she moved around her spoon. She lifted the glass, and with a slurping sound, drained more of it. It was a strange, dark color. Thick as blood.

    We were on a grassy field, surrounded by flowers that bloomed in every direction, their petals covering any sign of leaves. The air was golden with motes of pollen, interspersed with bees.

    Andrena lay upon a low love-seat, eyes half-lidded. The living-wood staff had been lain to the side, as though she would take it up as soon as she rose. The crown of bees had stayed, unfortunately, and the eternal antlers still crawled up as far as I could see.

    Beyond her there was only the field. Above her, there was only darkness.

    At her feet, reading a book, was an old woman. I had never seen her face before, but her look of arch amusement made me think I should recognize her.

    ¡°Am I- did I die?¡± Not a proper way to greet a goddess, probably, but I had never been polite to Andrena and I wasn¡¯t going to start now. I was overcome with horror. Not by the thought of dying, which I had become familiar with long ago, but with the thought of dying on that ship, before I fixed anything.

    Really. It was a remarkably bad showing.

    Still, I couldn¡¯t think of anything else to explain my situation. We had to be in the fields of the gods- the palace, even, if Andrena was here. I swallowed, suddenly nauseous. Thirty-six suddenly felt very young, after all.

    Not as such, no. Your head is simply ringing with enough clarity that I¡­ Andrena¡¯s eyes snapped up to me, and- yes, that was definitely amusement there. I felt more fear crawl down my spine. Let¡¯s just say, I had enough time for a quick chat.

    I felt myself grabbing at my head, just to check. Then, scrubbing at my eyes to stop the itching from the pollen, I approached the love-seat.

    I didn¡¯t know what the rules were, for humans visiting the land of the gods where they tucked away in the center of the world. Therefore, I wasn¡¯t going to follow any of them. I approached Andrena.

    Of course, don¡¯t be shy, she said. Her lips didn¡¯t move. Somehow she still managed to sound annoyed. No need to thank me for my hospitality. Not even my kindness, for hosting you in my realm. Just go on and-

    ¡°Voice Marcia, I suppose?¡± It only made sense for one person to be kneeling at Andrena¡¯s feet, still in her mortal form.

    The old woman looked up. She wasn¡¯t familiar to me at all. Her hair was to her shoulders, in an old-fashioned twist, and she wore shining earrings that were much nicer than the rest of her clothing. She could have been any woman at the market, with a slightly nicer lace shawl than usual.

    Any other day, I would have ignored her entirely. Then again, most days I wasn¡¯t in the land of the dead.

    ¡°You don¡¯t disappoint,¡± she said. Her voice echoed strangely, but at least she still moved her mouth. ¡°I asked for someone sturdy.¡±

    Excuse me. I¡¯m the one that summoned her.

    ¡°As far as I recall, she was thrown here,¡± said Marcia. ¡°Can¡¯t I say hello? Be nice.¡±

    I stepped half-back, expecting Andrena to lash out. She didn¡¯t take rejection nicely. Yet at the comment, she laid back again, drinking again. Fine, she said. A bee swirled lazily around her finger, landing on the edge of her glass. Enjoy your useless mortal social niceties. Then I will ask about my Task.

    She managed to make the word task echo, with bells in. It made my head hurt.

    ¡°Oh, get over yourself! She¡¯s avenging me. She could at least get a drink.¡±

    Before I could object, a drink was in my hand, and Marcia was reaching up to pull me down to sit. ¡°I suppose it¡¯s been a difficult few days for you,¡± she continued. ¡°Weeks, maybe? I lose track of time, down here.¡±

    It would be hard to keep track of time, I supposed. No one was meant to think about the mortal world once they earned a place in the realm of the gods. It was supposed to be a great reward; you could romp in the fields and work alongside the gods, until you tired of endless revels and chose to reincarnate.

    Marcia didn¡¯t look like she was reveling much. She folded over the page of her book and closed it, leaning back on the steps. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you spoke to Amatus?¡±

    The lighthouse-keeper. ¡°I did. He was¡­ doing well.¡± As well as he ever could, I supposed. ¡°He missed you,¡± I added, hurried, in case she thought he¡¯d moved on too quickly.

    ¡°Good, good.¡± Her fingers drummed on the cover of the book. I couldn¡¯t make out the title; the words twisted on the cover. ¡°And the girls-¡±

    ¡°The girls?¡±

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    ¡°Well, the priestesses.¡±

    ¡°Angry,¡± I said. ¡°Making lace.¡± I tried to sip the drink I¡¯d been handed, in an attempt to avoid Marcia¡¯s eyes. Then I saw the color of the liquid, the way it swirled and seemed to reflect endless stars where above me I knew there was only darkness, and I put the cup down on the steps.

    Her shoulders lowered with obvious relief. ¡°I suppose it will all turn out well. It¡¯s just¡­ I never expected to leave so quickly.¡±

    Enough! You waste time. We don¡¯t know how much time she¡¯ll have here.

    Andrena swung a leg off of her half sofa and prowled into the flowers. As she stepped down they grew up, vines grabbing at her like they wanted her power for themselves. She reached for my chin and forced me to look at her. She was barely my height, at that, but she still towered. I felt like I was back in the creek, her power forcing me over.

    This time, she could touch me. She was as real as I was. More real, here. Her fingers still had no warmth, no pulse. There was only pressure. Andrena was pure belief made solid.

    Her fingers tightened on my chin. What have you accomplished?

    ¡°I-¡° I pulled away. I shouldn¡¯t have any worldly feelings, not here, but I thought I could still sweat. I was definitely a bit damp somewhere. ¡°Look, it¡¯s been a long¡­ few days. I¡¯ve been doing my best.¡±

    I demanded justice. Where is it?

    ¡°That¡¯s very kind of you,¡± I said, ¡°But these things can¡¯t be-¡±

    You must rush. There is only so much belief to go around. She cannot stay linked to me forever.

    I glanced at Marcia again. Was that why she seemed so real, still? So tangible? Was Andrena¡­ powering her, somehow?

    Did it matter? I had already told Apis what I thought about all of this. I might as well tell Andrena too. ¡°Look. I don¡¯t know how much you¡¯ve been watching, but I¡¯ve failed. All right? There is no solution. Not that I can find. I¡¯ve been searching for half a week, and all I¡¯ve managed is to get locked in a ship with no way out.¡±

    You¡­ failed?

    ¡°Yes.¡± I stared at Andrena. She stared back at me. Her face was so perfectly carved, almost like a statue, that it was hard to discern expressions. But I thought she might be surprised.

    You¡¯re my chosen champion. You can¡¯t fail.

    ¡°I can fail. I am failing. Sorry, but you chose wrong.¡±

    I am the Goddess Andrena! When the stag prays for the doe, when a woman cries for her child! When the bee searches for the flower- that is me! You cannot possibly question-

    ¡°Everyone¡¯s been there before,¡± I said. ¡°A bit of a bind, your barkeep¡¯s gone, and no one applies. Maybe you go the next town over and find the next man who can stand up straight in a stiff wind and knows what mead is. Fine, I understand. And I know I asked for it, a bit, with my prayer.¡±

    Andrena didn¡¯t respond. Below her, Voice Marcia laughed, voice low.

    ¡°But the time for that is over,¡± I finished. ¡°Your gamble didn¡¯t pay off. I¡¯m not woman enough for the job. I¡¯ve failed. So why don¡¯t we shake on it, call it finished, and neither of us thinks about it again?¡±

    For a moment, I thought I had convinced her. Andrena stared, eyes glowing.

    You think I chose you because I had no one else?

    ¡°Yes. Of course you did.¡±

    I offered the choice to seven others that day, said Andrena. She stepped back, her crown of bees buzzing wider and wider with her agitation. Of all of my offers, yours was the only one I completed. Do you know why?

    I didn¡¯t like any of this. The games she was playing, the way she was pulling me in. I didn¡¯t know if I believed any of this. Still, I couldn¡¯t help myself asking. ¡°Why?¡±

    You said no. You had vigor. Rebellion. That¡¯s what I need.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care why you chose me.¡± I looked away. Somehow, even though Andrena was rude, self-possessed and bossy, I felt bad for disappointing her. Voice Marcia, too. The sad way she¡¯d asked after her friends, her family. In another life, I would have wanted to help her find justice. In this life, I wasn¡¯t enough. ¡°I already told you the truth. I can¡¯t be your Voice.¡±

    What? I didn¡¯t choose you as my Voice.

    ¡°What do you mean, you didn¡¯t choose me as your Voice? You told me I would be your mortal instrument!¡± Now I was just angry. I pulled back, gave her a scowl. Andrena¡¯s brow was furrowed in confusion.

    You¡¯re my Paladin. I won¡¯t give you up.

    ¡°Paladin? What is this, last century?¡± The last god I could think of who had enlisted Paladins was poor, ill-fated Ursus, who had lost the Northern War and the Empire while he was at it. I shuddered. Was that going to be my fate? Sent into battle and then abandoned at the last second?

    No one had ever gotten his temple to admit what had happened, so complete was the failure. After that war, there hadn''t even been any formal temples to speak of for Ursus; just wild, wandering priests. Known for feats such as occasionally hunting deer and trying to speak to squirrels.

    ¡°Wait-¡±

    Why would you think you were the Voice? I imbued you with none of my magic.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said. ¡°I thought you were- delayed, maybe. Slow.¡±

    All of that belief is being used to keep Marcia in a solid form here. I could not waste any of it on you. Andrena flicked a hand dismissively. Besides, a Voice¡¯s magic is good for growing plants, for soothing hurts. Not for investigating a crime.

    ¡°So, what, I got nothing?¡±

    I know my magic is depleted, but I hardly gave you nothing! This is just what I should have expected, working with such an undeveloped child!

    ¡°Excuse me! I¡¯ve had no support, no magic, no weapon.¡± I scoffed. ¡°Are you asking me to thank you for one wagon ride?¡±

    No weapon?

    ¡°I have a staff, I suppose, but that¡¯s hardly anything.¡±

    I give you an Abyssal Blade, and this is the thanks I get?

    I stared at her in response. ¡°What do you mean, Abyssal Blade?¡±

    If I¡¯d had an Abyssal Blade- worthy of both capital letters, and worth its weight in gold- I wouldn¡¯t have been having this conversation. I would have just poked it at Lady Sylvia and we would have been kindly escorted out.

    Legend had it that just one swipe from the blade could send an unworthy soul to nest among the stars, cursed to remain there until the world was rolled close enough for them to reincarnate.

    No one had seen one since the end of the Northern War, of course.

    I¡¯m sure I sent it, she said, frowning. She held her hands out. About this long? And this wide? With a gem in the hilt?

    No. It couldn¡¯t be.

    I opened my mouth, then closed it again. She took my lack of response as an invitation to keep talking.

    It has no name, but I sent it with a wandering priestess on her way up to the northern temple, she said. I went to quite a lot of trouble making sure that boy took it, too-

    I grabbed for the drink where I had sat it down on the steps and took a long, deliberate sip. It tasted like home, my grandmother telling me she was proud of me. Like my first batch of oat-cakes. Like hot mulled wine after a rainstorm.

    I awoke, groaning, to a splitting headache and pure darkness.

    Warm fingers pressed against my forehead. ¡°Elysia? Goddess below, I thought you were dead. You weren¡¯t moving.¡±

    I reached up, grabbed Apis¡¯s wrist. ¡°Please. No speaking of goddesses at the moment.¡±

 41. [Sidequest] Managing

    Egnatius pushed the door open and stared out at the street. A young mother, pushing some horrible contraption that rattled and shrieked. The baby inside, seeming not to realize its impending death. An aspiring union member, bringing in stacks of clothing to be washed. Another laundress, hauling in one of the vats of chemical towards the pulley system at the back of the building. A loose set of chickens, running away from a middle-aged man with a long beard and a short stick.

    Still no sign of the woman whose cloak he¡¯d spent a night repairing. He¡¯d promised to return it the next day.

    That had been two days ago. Where was she?

    ¡°Waiting on a sweetheart?¡± Junia leaned against the door, smirking at him. He hadn¡¯t been looking out of the door that often, had he? He¡¯d made sure to keep at least half an hour in between checks.

    ¡°No,¡± he snapped, and closed the door. He turned back towards the inside of the door, keeping his back straight. He was Egnatius. Temporary management of the central district Laundresses* (*not to be confused with elected management, guild rule and ethical** enforcement only) (**ethical including anything that the guard doesn¡¯t notice within three business days***)(***business days, for those who don¡¯t actually do real business, being defined as- actually, let¡¯s get back to the main narration, shall we?)¡­.well. Suffice it to say, he was in charge here. She could keep her nose out of it, especially since all of the real guild leadership was out of the building at the moment.

    ¡°I thought you¡¯d be more worried about¡­¡± she leaned in, dropped her voice so the lower-level laundresses couldn¡¯t hear them over the swishing of the tubs, the moving of the oars. ¡°Our task.¡±

    He grimaced. ¡°That should be well in hand.¡±

    How far they had fallen. How clearly they had diverged from their task as a guild, if they had resorted to working with¡­ he shuddered. No. He couldn¡¯t even make himself think of it. He needed to think himself lucky, that his task was to supervise normal guild work, stay downstairs. At least this way, he didn¡¯t need to compromise his morals.

    Laundressing is dirty business. He¡¯d been told that when he¡¯d first signed on. His sponsor, an older woman with sharp eyes named Helvia, had laughed at the look on his face. He¡¯d realized in the time since how correct she¡¯d been.

    She had been smart enough not to come to the meeting last night, no matter how good the open bar was. If only Egnatius had been so clever. Now he was stuck here, supervising, instead of free to fulfill his obligations.

    So many tasks, pulling him in different directions. He was required to supervise the floor.

    ¡°Back away!¡± He snapped at one of the Laundresses, who was moving too quickly with a tub of lye. ¡°You¡¯ll burn yourself!¡±

    Yet if he didn¡¯t return that cloak, he would be in violation of guild regulation. For him, the enforcer, to be in violation¡­. He shuddered to think of the horror. It would compromise everything he stood of.

    Yet he couldn¡¯t leave! If they found him outside- he might be forced to fulfill that task instead.

    It all made him sick. ¡°Everyone, work faster!¡± He snapped. ¡°You too, Junia. You¡¯re just standing there.¡±

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re in a fantastic mood. Thank you, divine leader.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t call me divine.¡±

    ¡°Oh, of course. Thank you, agnostic leader.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t call me anything! Work, already.¡±

    Even with his encouragement, she moved very slowly towards the vat, sending him a smirk over her shoulder. He held back a shudder of irritation. Yes. No matter how he looked at it, he was set in worse than a scrubbed wine stain.

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    There was only one thing to do. Hope Helvia came back and he could ask advice.

    ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    He nearly jumped out of his shirt at the touch to his arm. He¡¯d done it, again. Started reciting guild regulations to calm down and forgot to check his surroundings.

    Next to him was a short woman, with hair so straight it was flattened to her skull. In the humid environment of the Laundresses, it was impressive. Even with her height, there was a certain¡­ energy about her.

    If he hadn¡¯t been Managing at the moment, he would have been tempted to apologize and bow until she blinked. It was something about her eyes. They weren¡¯t so much piercing as bludgeoning. They were actively doing him damage.

    ¡°You¡¯re unwell,¡± she said. ¡°I want to speak to a Manager.¡±

    ¡°I am a manager.¡±

    ¡°A different one, then. One that¡¯s useful.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me!¡± Egnatius drew himself up to his full height. Instead of towering, he just felt structurally unstable. ¡°I am extremely useful. What do you require of the Laundresses Guild today? Have you something that needs washing?¡±

    ¡°Hardly.¡± The woman was still staring at him. He couldn¡¯t twitch. He couldn¡¯t. His eyes were watering. ¡°I¡¯m here searching for two boys.¡±

    ¡°Two boys?¡±

    ¡°One about this tall-¡± She gestured above her head. ¡°Blonde hair, cut round, with a sword-¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen him!¡± Egnatius interrupted her, eager to show his usefulness. He was a real manager. ¡°He fell into one of our vats, several nights ago. We barely fished him out. Threw him out the door, behind his mistress. I still have her cloak. She never came to pick it up.¡±

    ¡°His mistress¡­.¡± The woman tilted her head to the side. He felt like a worm underneath a hawk¡¯s beak. Egnatius tried not to pull back.

    He turned towards the vats. ¡°Stir harder!¡±

    ¡°A woman named Elysia?¡±

    Egnatius tried to remember. ¡°I believe so,¡± he said. ¡°But they only had the one boy with them. Unless-¡± But the man with them had been a full-grown adult.

    ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°The other boy only joined him recently.¡±

    They stared at each other. Egnatius coughed. ¡°Well,¡± he said, ¡°If you find her, please notify her that the Laundresses still have her cloak. Thank you.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± said the woman. ¡°I believe we can help each other.¡±

    ¡°Pardon?*¡± (*Laundresses did not apologize, as this implied they had done something wrong)

    ¡°Cornelia.¡± She held out a hand.

    Egnatius kissed it. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and took it back.

    ¡°Egnatius,¡± he said, embarrassed. He wasn¡¯t the sort of person who kissed hands. What had he done, gone mad? It must have been the meeting last night.

    ¡°We¡¯ll find them together,¡± she said, final. ¡°Bring the cloak. The Temple of Small Gods informed me they may have come here, but they also mentioned something about the lighthouse. We can both go there.¡±

    ¡°Why do you want me to be there? Surely you¡¯ll be able to find them yourself?¡± He couldn¡¯t imagine Cornelia failing at anything. He looked, vaguely, at the rest of the room. ¡°I need to manage.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. It helps to have someone about,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m not one to work alone. Come along.¡±

    He squinted. ¡°Do you- you need guild support?¡±

    ¡°I simply believe I would benefit from your reputation.¡±

    So she wanted someone to scapegoat. Egnatius should have said no. On any other day, he would have, bludgeoning eyes or no. He was guild management. His work was here, with the bubbling vats and the other Laundresses. Where the air burned your lungs and curled your hair.

    Today, however¡­ when that task was so prominent it nearly contaminated every breath?

    They could handle themselves. Perhaps if he was out, trying to return the cloak, he could avoid it. After all, he was fulfilling a guild regulation.

    ¡°Very well,¡± he said.

    The cloak fit well into his arm. It was soft, well-patched brown wool. Of good make, although it was worn a little thin. If it had belonged to anyone else, he might have advised them to buy a new one, give in the wool for felting and re-manufacture. Given that it belonged to Elysia, he would be content with returning it and never speaking to her again.

    ¡°You can¡¯t be serious,¡± said Junia. She had popped up behind a vat when he went to find the cloak, and was now following him to the door, heels clicking intently. He tried to ignore the burning sensation of her gaze at the back of his neck.

    Cornelia waited by the door, posture stiff.

    ¡°I¡¯m completely serious. This is a matter of extreme importance to the guild.¡±

    ¡°Extreme importance? When we¡¯ve got herself upstairs?¡±

    ¡°Herself is only a-¡± He coughed. ¡°Herself is violating all of our long-held values,¡± he said, instead. ¡°Meanwhile, returning repaired clothing is a long-held value of the guild. I¡¯m only fulfilling our basic regulations. Is that not what a guild manager is meant to do?¡±

    ¡°I think you¡¯re running away to a light-house in order to avoid your responsibilities,¡± she said, flat.

    ¡°Feel free to believe what you like,¡± he said, lofty. ¡°You are not the manager.¡±

    ¡°Just remember what you promised.¡±

    ¡°I always do.¡± Unfortunately.

    The gust of air from outside made him shiver as he stepped out. It wasn¡¯t the temperature; that was warm, the afternoon heating up from the sun directly overhead. Instead, it was the task to come.

    Surely it couldn¡¯t be that hard to find one woman, could it? He would be back soon enough.

 42. Rabid Morality

    My head kept clanging. For once, I was glad we were in the dark, even with the dim lantern. I spent most of a few hours staying very still, on the floor, watching the flames dance against the ceiling and trying not to vomit.

    Head injuries. Never again.

    ¡°You can still see?¡±

    ¡°I told you,¡± I gritted out, through the headache, ¡°I can see. Through both eyes. You don¡¯t need to swing your finger back and forth.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s only- I¡¯m checking your pupils-¡±

    ¡°Apis,¡± I said, ¡°If you get close to me again, I will vomit on you. That is a threat.¡±

    He withdrew. I inhaled, very slowly, and then exhaled. Well. That had gone badly.

    At least, after a few hours of sulking on my back on the floor, I began to feel a little better. I hadn¡¯t done well for myself, the last few days. Running through the city, being thrown to the ground, trying to fight guards. Not to mention all of my time traveling on carts and sleeping on Apis¡¯s horrible guest mattress.

    I finally pushed myself up as the door creaked open slowly for the next day¡¯s meal. An entire night must have passed without me noticing. The guard pushed it in with the end of his weapon, keeping his body well out of range. ¡°Is she alive?¡±

    His voice was shaking, a little. I let myself feel some satisfaction with that. So: I was a failed Paladin, with no weapon or magical abilities. At least a slightly post-pubescent guard was afraid of me.

    Then I reached forward to grab the food and realized how far I had fallen. Being proud of intimidating one guard?

    ¡°She¡¯s alive,¡± said Apis.

    The door slammed shut. The lantern flickered. At least Sylvia had left more oil in this one.

    ¡°You¡¯re feeling better, then?¡± He looked hopeful. I stuffed some of the dry biscuit in my mouth and tried to muster up enough spit to make it tolerable. When I finally swallowed, I sighed.

    ¡°What do you know of Paladins?¡±

    Did I even want to try, anymore? Andrena was¡­ there was no other way to say it. I had to admit it. She was an upper goddess. She was terrifying, full of magic. She controlled what was about a fifth of all belief in the world. She held life in her hands.

    She was also an idiot. She couldn¡¯t have given me just one message about the sword? Did I really want to do a task for someone like that?

    ¡°Paladins?¡± Apis had started gnawing at his own biscuit ration. The biscuit was winning. ¡°Ah¡­ didn¡¯t they all disappear, after the¡­ incident, during the Northern War?¡±

    Apis was about my age. We were both too young to have seen Paladins in action properly.

    As such, we both just gnawed at the biscuits thoughtfully. When I¡¯d made it through another bite or so- my jaw getting tired- I managed another sentence.

    ¡°That¡¯s what Andrena wants me for. Her Paladin.¡±

    Apis dropped the biscuit. ¡°You¡¯re her paladin? Those don¡¯t exist anymore!¡±

    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s what I said.¡±

    Apis coughed. ¡°Well,¡± he said. He looked down at the biscuit, half-fallen on the floor, and then apparently decided to give up. ¡°Well. Ah. I¡¯m sure she had- a good plan for you. A reason she didn¡¯t give you the power to be her Voice, instead.¡±

    Why she¡¯d saddled me with a sword and vague hope, instead of the magic of the gods? Yes, it was definitely a well-considered plan instead of some whimsical impulse. I ground a piece of crumb between my teeth.

    ¡°She says she has to use all of the Belief she¡¯s got to keep Marcia in the¡­¡± I gestured vaguely. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Some field of flowers.¡±

    ¡°She kept Voice Marcia as a bodily vessel in her godly palace, not just a spirit?¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡±

    ¡°No wonder she¡¯s sent so few messages,¡± said Apis. ¡°A spirit that dies before the given time craves freedom. She must be keeping Voice Marcia anchored so that she can see Justice done.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t help me do that justice!¡±

    ¡°¡­well, no,¡± he said. ¡°But we¡¯ve made so much progress! We haven¡¯t even decoded the letters, yet!¡±

    It felt easier to yell at Apis. He didn¡¯t have godly powers, just a stale biscuit. ¡°What do you know about it,¡± I snapped. ¡°I don¡¯t even know Voice Marcia. Never did! I just went on this quest because Andrena threatened me. If she¡¯s got no power, I don¡¯t think she can even follow through. If Sylvia¡¯s going to pay me off to not investigate, what¡¯s it worth to me to finish the job?¡±

    ¡°But-¡±

    In the flickering lantern light, Apis¡¯s face fell.

    I folded my arms. ¡°This whole tangle is a mess way too bad for me to deal with. I¡¯m just a cook.¡±

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    ¡°They murdered her,¡± he said.

    ¡°A job for the guard.¡±

    ¡°The guard won¡¯t help!¡±

    ¡°Not my problem.¡±

    ¡°Your- Sylvia- locked you up. She called you a friend, and then laughed at you. Not to mention, she stole your apprentice from you. You¡¯re going to take her side? Your head¡¯s still got blood on it from where that guard attacked you!¡±

    He had a point, there. I frowned.

    ¡°Besides, those boys down there, she¡¯s got them imprisoned, too. Someone¡¯s framed them for Voice Marcia¡¯s murder. If the guard catches them, they might actually be-¡±

    ¡°Fine! If you care so much, you go deal with it. Didn¡¯t the temple raise you to help? Prove it, for once!¡±

    I felt like a child again, refusing to participate in one of my mother¡¯s schemes, taking the curls out of my hair. Apis stilled. ¡°Fine.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    He was pulling out the letters. ¡°I¡¯ll try,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re right. We already made a start. I¡¯ll figure out who did it, and then I¡¯ll present my conclusions to the spire. That Lady Sylvia might let me out. She doesn¡¯t even know who I am.¡±

    I had pushed a cart down a hill, and now I was watching it crash into the sea. ¡°But they¡¯ll- Apis, there¡¯s a mob at the base of the Spire.¡± They would rip him apart. When they started bludgeoning him, he probably wouldn¡¯t even fight back. He might apologize to them, for getting in the way.

    ¡°They don¡¯t know who I am either.¡± He was turning the pages of the letters, turning through the book. ¡°Please stop speaking. It will make your wound worse.¡± He looked up. ¡°Also, you¡¯re distracting me.¡±

    What had gotten into him? Was there poison in those biscuits?

    I watched him for a moment, scribbling. He looked very¡­ focused. It had to be poison. Some sort of sudden-onset illness. He had been involved with the quest before, but he hadn¡¯t taken charge like this before.

    ¡°Look,¡± I said, ¡°Neither of us should be involved. This is dangerous.¡±

    Apis pointed below us. ¡°It¡¯s dangerous for them, too.¡±

    With nothing to say to that, I lay back flat on the wood, listening to the chatter of the letter-boys.

    Voice Marcia. Why did everyone care so much about her? Sure, she had been murdered. Tough luck. But at least she¡¯d had an interesting death. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, trying to stop my throbbing headache.

    She had passion. A mission. Something you certainly lack, said the part of my brain I generally tried to avoid. Some people had a sense of morality. I liked to think I¡¯d left mine to rot a long time ago, out behind a shed where no one could find it.

    At times like this, though, it had a bad habit of coming back to bite me. Like it had gone rabid out there. She cared about people, it added. She was close to equalizing the balance of power in the church, and now that could be ruined for good.

    I didn¡¯t care about that. I didn¡¯t! Marcia¡¯s goals weren¡¯t the same as mine. The small gods could go up a river for as much as I cared.

    You¡¯d be proving Sylvia right by taking that bribe. She thinks you aren¡¯t even good enough to make a living as a cook.

    I pushed myself upwards. I had missed that implication, caught up in drama that was years old. How dare she! I hadn¡¯t come south because I was¡­ running out of money, after fourteen years, like some kind of¡­ of failure! My pickles were endorsed by the Pickle Goddess herself!

    ¡°Have you translated the letters yet?¡±

    Apis jumped at the question, dropping one of the letters. ¡°Sorry?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t apologize, tell me!¡±

    ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t want to be involved.¡± He actually sounded hurt.

    ¡°You were-¡± I paused. Did I really want to do this? ¡°¡­right. I don¡¯t want to take Sylvia¡¯s side. My head does ache. So what do they say?¡±

    Apis cleared his throat. ¡°Well. Ah. Let me just¡­¡± He fumbled through the letters.

    ¡°The first one that said Twenty-two bells ring as I write this; is it fourteen, sixteen, or three more hours to wait? Stay lucky until then¡­ I think the numbers mean Move believers to shadow. The one about the eclipse just says Rumple-and-tumble? Just that word, strangely enough¡­ and finally, World askew new prayer to stray believers. No punctuation. Frankly, they don¡¯t make any sense.¡±

    I moved to look over his shoulder. He¡¯d translated the book, which was a description of the world¡¯s terror after the beetle stopped rolling it, into the code by using the order of each word. It was a desperately simple code, but it seemed to work.

    That didn¡¯t mean I understood it, not really. ¡°Do you think the one about moving believers to shadow was about the letter-boys?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± he said. ¡°But what about the others?¡±

    I could only shrug. Before I could ask any further questions, the door opened again.

    Apis and I both froze.

    It wasn¡¯t time for our daily feeding and chamber-pot emptying. I knew the timing like clockwork by now, my impatience making me twitchy and forcing me across the room. It wasn¡¯t time for the end of Flight¡¯s Feast, either.

    No. There were two more days left, until then. So who could be at the door?

    I didn¡¯t stop to check. I lifted the chair and started running. Last time, I had been a little too slow. Now I had the throbbing headache and bloody skull to prove it.

    This time, with my certified Chair Shield Technique (I would figure that out as I went) I was sure to defeat all six guards they brought.

    The man behind the door shrieked and backed up. He had come with a crowd- I couldn¡¯t make out their faces in the sudden brightness. Some of them were armed. Friends, or foes?I held the chair up, just in case. ¡°Who are you?¡± I said.

    The laundress pushed his glasses up and held up the bundle of clothing. ¡°I¡¯m here to deliver your cloak,¡± he said. ¡°You never arrived at the Guild.¡±

    My cloak. My cloak, the one I had saved up, the perfect color of boring brown, the one I¡¯d worn to a dozen late nights and woken up in the morning wearing nothing else. I held out a hand, touched the fabric. It was real.

    I stared up at him. ¡°How.¡±

    ¡°I take professional failures very seriously,¡± he said. ¡°I sought you out when you didn¡¯t appear. You seemed to care about the cloak, so I doubted you would have avoided the appointment.¡± He squinted into the darkness. ¡°Am I correct that the priest of Andrena is also with you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a priest,¡± said Apis. ¡°Why does everyone think that?¡±

    He emerged out of the darkness, and I got my first real look at him since we¡¯d been thrown into the cell almost a week ago. He had a thick bruise around his eye, and a scrape on his neck, from the fights with the guards. We were both filthy. He was also holding back a grin. ¡°I can¡¯t thank you enough,¡± he said. ¡°The Laundresses-¡±

    ¡°Hold up!¡± The woman behind him shouldered forward. ¡°That isn¡¯t in the agreement.¡±

    She gestured forward. A set of guards- city guards, with the cloaks and swords to prove it- tromped forwards. Before I could use the chair, a set of manacles clicked over Apis¡¯s wrists. He pulled back in horror.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re under arrest for the Arson of the Temple of Andrena,¡± said the Guard. He pulled Apis away from the room, with the flickering lamp. I pulled back on Apis¡¯s elbow.

    ¡°No, he¡¯s not! He¡¯s done nothing.¡±

    ¡°We have the evidence, miss¡­ ah¡­¡±

    ¡°Elysia,¡± said the woman. She was small, very compact, but she wore the clothing of a housekeeper. I thought I recognized her from somewhere- one of Lady Sylvia¡¯s? From a few days ago, maybe? ¡°Elysia Ferrers.¡±

    ¡°Miss Elysia Ferrers, we¡¯ll be retaining him in Kingshome until he can be taken to trial. Please don¡¯t worry. We have all required evidence.¡±

    I tried to kick at the guard¡¯s shins, but it was too late. They¡¯d bundled Apis up and pulled him away. I was left standing with my cloak in my hands. In front of me were the housekeeper and the Laundress. The Laundress smiled at me, face smug.

    ¡°So!¡± he said. ¡°That went better than expected.¡±

    The housekeeper poked me in the chest, hard. ¡°Where,¡± she said, ¡°Is your boy.¡±

 43. Hardly Subtle

    ¡°My boy?¡±

    ¡°Duran.¡± She pursed her lips and stared at me. ¡°Not doing too well, are we?¡±

    ¡°What do you want with Duran?¡± I paused. ¡°Is he- did you lose him?¡±

    She did work for Lady Sylvia- I remembered now, as my eyes adjusted and I could see her better. I peered over her head. ¡°Did you bring guards to arrest Apis? Let me through!¡±

    The guards were heading up the stairs. I pushed the woman aside and made for the stairs, trying to get up on the top deck. The woman and the Laundress followed behind me, all of us clattering up.

    It was mid-morning. The stink of the sea was stronger up here, a breeze starting in the heat, although as it hit the city it clearly gave up and turned back towards the open ocean instead. The guards for the quarantine ship itself were giving way to the city guard, who walked in an efficient phalanx and had clustered around Apis, obscuring him from view except for a few coils of dark hair that I could see through their cloaks.

    ¡°Hey!¡± I shouted. I was a little unsteady on my feet, head throbbing, but I was angry and in the sun for the first time in days, so I could overcome it. I ran towards the guards, making it towards their group just in time for one of them to pull his sword on me.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t an argument with you, Miss Elysia,¡± he said. There was a thump. They¡¯d thrown Apis into a boat. ¡°Please,¡± he continued. ¡°Kingshome even has visiting hours. Usually.¡±

    ¡°Why are you putting him in Kingshome, if you think he¡¯s the arsonist?¡±

    I tried to push the sword away. It came back to rest at my shoulder. Thinking back on the throbbing wound at my head, I decided not to pick another fight. The guards were stepping into the boat, one by one. Comparing their efficient group to the motley crew of hired guards that escorted the quarantine ship was like comparing a pack of hunting hounds to a rich woman¡¯s little purse-dog. I swallowed, nauseous again.

    ¡°Ah,¡± said the guard. He scratched at his cheek with the hand that wasn¡¯t holding the sword. ¡°After, uh¡­ you know, it isn¡¯t important why we aren¡¯t using the Infamy at this time.¡±

    ¡°Is this about the escape?¡±

    ¡°There was no escape,¡± he said.

    I stared at him. He stared at me. I could tell him that the letterboys from the Infamy were in the hold. They had blamed the Arson on Apis now, so presumably, the letterboys had been freed.

    Then again, I didn¡¯t trust the guards as far as I could throw them. Who was to say the letterboys wouldn¡¯t just be taken again?

    ¡°It¡¯s just maintenence,¡± he said. He pulled back the sword and turned to step on the boat himself. ¡°Ah, good luck. With¡­ whatever you¡¯re doing. Good day.¡±

    He tried to salute me with the sword, then put it away. I scowled at him the whole way.

    ¡°He¡¯s a murderer,¡± said the woman, who had walked after me at what seemed to be a sedate pace. ¡°Hardly worth worrying about.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me! He did nothing of the sort!¡±

    ¡°The guard¡¯s identified him,¡± she sniffed. ¡°Would they ever make a mistake?¡±

    The Laundress coughed, before we could start arguing again. ¡°Cornelia, ah¡­¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes.¡± She held out a hand. ¡°Cornelia. Head Housekeeper for the Household of Lord Julian, Councillor-¡±

    ¡°I get it,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯ve met.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I know. And you¡¯ve met Egnatius, of course.¡±

    No wonder he acted that way, if his name was Egnatius. I ignored their conversation as I watched the city guards row Apis to shore. Wanting something to do with my hands, I pulled my cloak open and pulled it on. At least this felt right.

    ¡°Hey,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m banished, aren¡¯t I? I want my crab back. And my apprentice back, too.¡± No use in wasting a good host-gift. This had all gone wrong because I¡¯d gone to meet Sylvia. If I wanted to fix it, I needed to start repairing it, bit by bit.

    ¡°That¡¯s what I was trying to ask you, before you ran off! He¡¯s gone- rogue. That boy is useless. A bad worker, with no focus. Doesn¡¯t want to do anything!¡±

    Well, she didn¡¯t have to be so rude about it. I scowled at her. ¡°Duran¡¯s got a unique personality.¡±

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    I had to find him. Not only was he my responsibility- I shuddered to think of what he was doing, alone in the city- but he also, if Andrena could be believed, was holding one of the rarest swords in existence. One that could strip someone of their soul.

    It made me a little nervous.

    ¡°So you lost my apprentice, got Apis arrested, and now you want me to fix it for you,¡± I said, straightening the cloak. ¡°And you don¡¯t even have the crab with you. Am I understanding you correctly?¡±

    ¡°I hardly said it like that. I was given a task to make sure he was trained. I must fulfill it. I have a purpose of Consistency, Quality, and St-¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t care.¡± I turned to Egnatius. ¡°Did you bribe your way onto the ship, like a normal person, or did you just rely on the guard? Because I wasn¡¯t the only one stuck on here?¡±

    ¡°Relying on the guard is a perfectly reliable-¡± He avoided my eyes. ¡°Well, yes, I might have done a little- it is within regulation to offer free laundering in exchange for a favor!¡±

    Well. At least something could be salvaged. I watched the boat of guards shrink a little further on the horizon for a moment more before I turned back towards the belly of the ship. ¡°Come on,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯ve got some kids to release.¡±

    The stink of the interior of the ship, the darkness, were no better the second time I went inside. I shuddered to go back in. It felt like any moment they would shut the doors again, this time for good. I almost wanted to give the cloak back to Egnatius, force him to have a reason to let me out again.

    I cleared my throat. ¡°How did you even find me?¡± I had expected Duran to do something¡­. Duran about it. Not successful, necessarily, but if anyone was going to attempt a rescue¡­

    ¡°I was searching for Duran,¡± said Cornelia. ¡°The boy escaped instead of cleaning floors, taking a weapon with him. Bold! I followed him across the bridge to the temple district- the guard remembered him- but I lost him after that. Since I am an extremely diligent-¡±

    ¡°Skip all of that.¡±

    ¡°Well!¡± She sniffed. ¡°Suffice to say, I was able to track your past movements. You¡¯re hardly subtle.¡±

    ¡°How did that lead you here?¡±

    ¡°Someone reported you to the guards,¡± said Egnatius, who was keeping up with us and seemed to view Cornelia with the same amount of fear as someone might approach a snake in the grass. ¡°The guards were searching for you on the streets. We.¡± He coughed. ¡°Ah, we ran into each other. It wasn¡¯t difficult to come to a mutually beneficial solution.¡±

    Before I could ask about what exactly was mutually beneficial about arresting Apis, we¡¯d come to a room I was fairly certain sat underneath where I¡¯d been imprisoned for the last few days. I rapped twice on the door. ¡°You still in there?¡±

    A raucous chorus of voices answered. The door was only barred by a plank of wood held up by a pair of metal brackets. Embarrassingly minimal security.

    I lifted it up, pulled the door open. The letter-boys flooded out. I smiled towards Egnatius and Cornelia, happy despite myself. It had been a horrible week in the Capital, filled with failure after failure. But at least I¡¯d finally finished my first goal. The letterboys were free.

    Cornelia¡¯s nose was wrinkled in disgust. She stepped back, obviously trying not to inhale the stink of a dozen pre-teen boys that had been cooped up for days. Next to her, Egnatius had frozen. After a moment, he coughed.

    ¡°As it happens,¡± he said, ¡°I do have somewhere else we need to go. Everyone, stop.¡±

    The letterboys didn¡¯t do anything. He reached out and grabbed one of them by the back of the cloak.

    The boy, caught, turned to stare at him. ¡°What?¡± He said, choking.

    ¡°I¡¯m here for a mutual friend,¡± said Egnatius. ¡°She wants to see you. All of you.¡±

    Gathering up the letterboys was a considerable mission. I didn¡¯t trust Egnatius, not really. But the look of his eyes, behind those tiny glasses, seemed sincere.

    ¡°I promise it isn¡¯t the guards,¡± he told me, as we followed the letterboys up and onto the deck. ¡°Truly. I didn¡¯t even know the letterboys were here. But- I- as much as I hate it, I swore an oath to the guild.¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t hurt them?¡± I stared him down. He pushed his tiny glasses up his nose again.

    ¡°Upon my honor as a Laundress.¡±

    Well, it wasn¡¯t much. It would have to do. I took the rungs of the ladder two at a time.

    When I finally sat upon the bench of the rowboat, it was a revelation. We were leaving. I stared up at the ship. Letterboys had crammed in next to me, making the boat swamp every time we moved. It was barely buoyant enough. Cornelia was perched on the bow. The Laundress had taken the oars. I wondered if Apis was in a cell yet.

    ¡°Well,¡± said the Laundress, as we got out of the boat. ¡°Thank you for your help. This should be it for me. Be well, Cornelia.¡± He bowed to both of us, as if that was it.

    I grabbed him by the collar. ¡°As if!¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    Cornelia was already walking away. I didn¡¯t pursue her. If she wanted to leave, she could. But I had started rescuing those kids, and I wouldn¡¯t leave until I knew I hadn¡¯t sent those letterboys into a trap.

    ¡°You wanted me, you got me,¡± I said. ¡°Go on. All of us.¡±

    ¡°¡­Very well,¡± said Egnatius. He straightened up. ¡°Proceed!¡±

    I followed the Laundress through the winding streets, up to the Laundresses guild. The building still made an imposing statement, billowing pale steam and cloaking the figures that moved through the streets. Cornelia popped up again before we¡¯d made it within a block. Like a leech, that woman. I shuddered at the look in her cold eyes.

    The laundress slipped us in through side-stairs, up towards the top. We kept climbing, up and up, until we were interwoven in between the clothes flying out to dry. The boys clustered into small packs, whispering.

    There, hidden between tunics and trousers and unmentionables, a girl stood. She was as wide as she was tall, with hair bright orange as a carrot and spiked just the same. Her feet were planted wide, her arms folded, like she expected us to charge at her.

    She wore the uniform of a letterboy.

    I didn¡¯t have to ask for an introduction. I abandoned the Laundress entirely, ducked underneath a clothesline and stepped up until her face was clear through the mist. She was young, I realized. Fifteen, maybe sixteen at most. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize they chose Voices this young.¡±

    ¡°I liked Marcia better,¡± said the Voice of Celeres.

 44. Mother Dear

    ¡°Well,¡± I managed, ¡°That¡¯s unfortunate for you.¡±

    She didn¡¯t move for a moment, the washing flapping behind her. The letterboys were peeking through. I could hear Cornelia creeping up behind me, no doubt wanting to ask about the boys again. I cleared my throat before I could. ¡°I thought the Laundresses weren¡¯t involved in religious business.¡±

    They were very loud about it. Egnetius, of the tiny glasses and the repaired cloak- who was also hovering behind me, shifting from foot to foot- had been obnoxious about it, right before I¡¯d gotten myself locked up in the hold of a quarantine ship.

    ¡°They owed me a favor,¡± said the Voice of Celeres. She squinted over at me. ¡°But you weren¡¯t it. Why did you show up with my missing letterboys?¡±

    ¡°They were in the same ship,¡± started Egnatius, peering in from behind me, ¡°And she insisted-¡±

    I held up a hand. ¡°I wanted to make sure he wasn¡¯t taking them into more trouble,¡± I said. ¡°I saw them captured the first time.¡±

    The Voice of Celeres seemed more thoughtful than I had expected. Her fingers drummed along her arm as she tilted her head to one side. The other voices- the small council I¡¯d met at the tea shop- had described her as almost impulsive. Bold. Demanding impossible achievements. This girl just seemed tired, with dark circles under her eyes. Although she did seem very young. ¡°The others said you didn¡¯t want to be involved.¡±

    ¡°I was chosen to find justice for the Temple. That¡¯s hardly no involvement.¡±

    ¡°Are you finding justice now?¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t just for us to be imprisoned, no,¡± I said. She was still flushed in anger. I rolled my eyes. ¡°Go on. Spit it out, don¡¯t let it rot.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re blaming it all on me, on my letterboys! Marcia doesn¡¯t need justice! Everyone knows it was wrong for her to die! We¡¯re the ones that need help!¡±

    ¡°Kid, I don¡¯t¡­¡± I stepped back and looked at her. Tried to see past the bright hair, the uniform. ¡°Have you been hiding here, all this time?¡± No wonder her information was out of date. I wondered if it would help, to tell her they were blaming it on Apis instead, now. Probably not?

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter where I¡¯ve been hiding! I know what people are saying. They say you won¡¯t go to the Spire.¡±

    ¡°Why does everyone want me to go to the Spire? What do you think I¡¯m going to do there?¡±

    Her face was blotchy and ugly when she flushed in anger. She had been speaking to the other small gods, then. I thought I could hear their words when she spoke, although it was changed by the brief, sharp anger of a teenager. She didn¡¯t understand that it wasn¡¯t that easy. They wouldn¡¯t just take my word for it, let me approach the Spire as the Voices were sequestered.

    ¡°I need someone to vouch for me,¡± she said. ¡°I could change everything- we could change everything. We were so close. And now everyone¡¯s ruining it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve just been exiled from the city,¡± I said, and watched her clench her teeth in frustration. ¡°You think they¡¯ll let me into the Spire?¡±

    I wanted to get back at Sylvia. Prove that I was better than this. I also wanted to break Apis out of Kingshome, find Duran, and get that sword back. A little money in my pockets wouldn¡¯t be bad, either. At the end of the day, I had to be realistic. I¡¯d already escaped once, today. That might be all I was capable of.

    ¡°They don¡¯t listen to the law,¡± she said.

    ¡°There¡¯s a whole lot of law in between here and there.¡± I folded my arms. ¡°Besides, I already said- they won¡¯t know that they can trust me. I didn¡¯t hold any position in the priesthood. Most of the Upper Gods aren¡¯t like the Small Gods, where anyone can be a Voice. You have to ascend to the position.¡± Besides, I¡¯m a paladin. She wouldn¡¯t like that answer either, I¡¯d bet.

    ¡°You don¡¯t want to help,¡± she said. ¡°You don¡¯t believe it could succeed.¡±

    ¡°You think that if you get into the Spire now, they¡¯ll still let you try to ascend?¡±

    ¡°Not without you,¡± she said. Her hands dropped down. She stepped closer to me. I could see tears welling up in her eyes. ¡°Please. All of this- Marcia died for this.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think she did, though.¡± I swallowed. ¡°Well, I do think she¡¯s dead. But-¡±

    The signs didn¡¯t point towards Andrena¡¯s temple being burned down by someone within the church- or at least, someone working alone. Sylvia had given it all away when she¡¯d offered to bribe me. She could care less about the Small Gods.

    ¡°I think some important people used you,¡± I said. ¡°To create chaos.¡±

    The wind flapped through the laundry. She huffed out a deep breath before looking at me.

    ¡°What does that matter? I still want to try. Why should I care what they want?¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean I can get into the Spire.¡± We were talking in circles. I wanted to bash my head on something again.

    ¡°So you¡¯re useless,¡± she muttered. ¡°Useless! I should have worked with Teuthida instead. At least her godly magic is helpful.¡±

    I stopped. I stared at her. ¡°What do you mean, her godly magic?¡±

    ¡°Haven¡¯t you been using it?¡± She frowned at me. ¡°I thought you were the Voice.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± I said. I coughed. ¡°But, uh, the other gods.¡± Paladins didn¡¯t get any godly magic. Paladins got a sword and a pat on the back, for luck.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    I suddenly regretted all the time I¡¯d spent as a child, avoiding time at temple functions. I could have learned so much. At the time, I¡¯d thought it was useless.

    ¡°Well, Andrena can make things grow, as you know,¡± she said, like it was obvious. ¡°Cabellus can set fires. Ursus can speak to animals, and Teuthida creates illusions. That¡¯s how I knew the blood in my veins would weigh enough on the holy scales, because I started to be able to send messages. You could just- grow a flower, or something, and the guards are sure-¡±

    I held up a hand. ¡°Teuthida can create illusions?¡±

    It was all clicking together now. ¡°What kind of an illusion,¡± I said. ¡°Can she duplicate an existing image? A person, maybe?¡±

    ¡°Why does that matter?¡± said Celeres. ¡°Yes, but-¡±

    I stepped back. Theories, clues that hadn¡¯t made sense, were suddenly clicking into place.

    Had Sylvia actually managed to trick a real Voice into one of her schemes? If she had used the power of Teuthida to burn down a temple, to hurt Andrena- that¡¯s honestly just rude. You couldn¡¯t find a friend to commit arson with you?

    ¡°But what about-¡±

    As I started to walk away, I spun on my heel, turning back to her. ¡°You said you could send messages?¡±

    It was time to break my biggest conviction. I had known it was a possibility, ever since Sylvia had mentioned her. Yet I had been resisting. It seemed like the ultimate failure; worse than death.

    Yet here I was. No allies. Followed only by an unhappy housekeeper. I had lost my apprentice. My one friend here was imprisoned. If I didn¡¯t get to the Spire in time, Sylvia might succeed in her latest scheme- which I now took personally, since she¡¯d had a guard clock me over the head so hard it sent me to the realm of the gods.

    It was time.

    I was going to speak to my mother. On purpose.

    <hr>

    ¡°This is most irregular,¡± said my mother. I was in the depths of the public baths. I was still wearing clothes, which was probably the source of her concern. No one else was bathing; just me, my cloak folded neatly to the side, and the slight steaming of the oils to create a barrier between us.

    She stood above me, arms folded.

    I reached up and squeezed water from my hair, watching her wince. ¡°I heard you told everyone I had the pox,¡± I said.

    She was still wearing a full formal dress. I wondered if she had been scheduled to go to an event, or if I had merited the special outfit just for this. ¡°You ran off in the night without telling anyone where you were going! For all I knew, you did have the pox!¡±

    I slid deeper into the water, letting it come up to my chin, and let my head thump back towards the tiles. The baths really were incredible. I could see an attendant to my left, approaching stealthily with a towel. She was probably going to ask me again if ¡°m¡¯am would like to consider undressing¡±. Maybe I would, this time.

    Cornelia had stayed outside. She had been scandalized by my choice to meet with my mother in the baths. I wasn¡¯t sure why she had such a problem with it. It was, after all, efficient. She had been trailing me consistently, sure I would lead her to Duran.

    I was going to try to find him- but based on my experience with the kid, he was likely as not going to pop up when I least expected him. Thus, it wasn¡¯t high on my list of priorities. Apis had much less of a chance of making it on his own.

    ¡°Look,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re eager for me to leave.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re saying you¡¯ve committed treason against the city,¡± said my mother. ¡°A daughter of mine, committing treason!¡±

    Sylvia had moved fast on that one, then. Not even a full day out of her custody, and she¡¯d already exiled me.

    ¡°You¡¯ve only the one child,¡± I said. ¡°Actually, it seems quite likely at this point. Maybe tomorrow.¡± I reached up and grabbed for some foam, wanting to wash my face, but it dissolved under my hands. ¡°I brought you here to offer you a deal.¡±

    When I heard nothing from her, I forced myself to sit up, water sloshing.

    ¡°Well?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t think of anything you could offer me,¡± said my mother. Her earrings clicked as she stared down at me. She could have knelt, to speak to me. I could have stood. As usual, neither of us was willing to change. As a result, both of us had to shout a little bit. ¡°You chose to remove yourself from this family! Made yourself a peasant!¡±

    ¡°I make a good oat-cake these days.¡±

    ¡°I gave you a good life,¡± she snapped. ¡°An incredible life. If I had been offered the chance to marry a Baron - not to mention his position now- you could have been like a queen, Elysia. A Queen! Our family started as turnip farmers. Couldn¡¯t you have helped out the family, if not yourself?¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t even tell me when it was time to light grandmother¡¯s pyre,¡± I snapped back, and there it was;this was why I had needed to leave.

    Both of us had gotten older and more clever, it seemed, because she took a moment to respond. ¡°The postal system must have not worked properly,¡± she said, looking away and smoothing her hair. Not a single strand was out of place. She was wearing my grandmother¡¯s locket- the only thing we¡¯d actually brought from that southern farm. ¡°I did send something. It¡¯s not my fault if you lived so far away it never arrived.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t want anyone seeing I was alive, more like,¡± I said. ¡°Who did you offer to him in exchange? Were they really so awful?¡±

    I couldn¡¯t remember exact details of my cousins, but I couldn¡¯t picture the man I¡¯d married having objections to any of them. It wasn¡¯t as if I had been some prize. He¡¯d just needed the money, the land that had changed from ¡°just another farm¡± to ¡°the edge of the city¡± to ¡°the center of commerce¡± so quickly that no one had realized it was still in the hands of a few upstarts who slurred their consonants and didn¡¯t use the right fork.

    ¡°He had qualms about his soul.¡±

    I looked away, slipped back into the water.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± I said, and hoped it echoed enough through the bathhouse that it would be true. ¡°Look- I have an offer. Right here, right now. Will you hear me out, or are we just going to argue forever again?¡±

    I heard her shuffle behind me. I pressed my fingers tightly into my palm under the water, waited. Finally, my mother said, ¡°Fine. What do you say, then?¡±

    ¡°You have political weight these days, yes? Use it. Stop the order of exile. Just until the end of Flight¡¯s Feast. In return, I¡¯ll leave after the festival. I¡¯ll even properly annul my marriage, if I can.¡± I wrung out some of my hair. ¡°Also, I need someone released from Kingshome.¡±

    The silence afterwards stretched too long. I kneaded soap into my hair, washed it out. When I turned back, she was staring at me. ¡°You like it up there,¡± she said, finally. ¡°You actually like scrubbing in the dirt, like you were never anything better.¡±

    ¡°I like not smelling shit all the time,¡± I said. ¡°I like not wasting my time with irritating people lying in my face. The dirt is a bonus.¡±

    ¡°A release from Kingshome. What kind of friends are you making?¡±

    ¡°He was raised by the temple!¡±

    ¡°Hmmm. It might be difficult. I don¡¯t have that much political weight.¡±

    I leaned back in the water, watching it steam. ¡°Say what you want, then.¡±

    ¡°Come and stay at home. At least try,¡± she cajoled. ¡°Just until the end of Flight¡¯s Feast. I¡¯ll give you all of my political strength. For what it¡¯s worth. But at least try to make it all work. Your life here, your marriage.¡±

    I stared up at her. She sneered down at me. ¡°You¡¯ll regret that,¡± I said.

    ¡°You were so young when you left. We¡¯ve changed.¡±

    ¡°I agree.¡± I had changed, too. I watched the water in front of me. Was it such a bad deal? I could sleep in a real bed. It wasn¡¯t like I could go back to Apis¡¯s apartment. Besides. It was only two nights¡­ ¡°It¡¯s a deal.¡±

    ¡°When you come by the house, I¡¯ll send out the requests.¡± Before I could hear the rest of what she said, I dunked my head under the water.

    When I emerged, clean, she was gone.

    The attendant emerged, finally strong enough now that my mother¡¯s dominating presence wasn¡¯t overpowering. ¡°M¡¯am?¡± She said. ¡°Would you like to-¡±

    I threw my shirt at her. She caught it, surprisingly deft, and bowed. ¡°I see,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ll just go- hang this up to dry, then.¡±

    ¡°Many thanks,¡± I said. I leaned back, sighed in the scent of the oils. There were some benefits to the city.

 45. [Sidequest] Real Battle-Axe

    Servius squinted up at the lighthouse. It was¡­ leaning. It hadn¡¯t quite looked this crumbly from his window.

    He had only snuck out because he¡¯d owed Duran a life-debt. He wasn¡¯t entirely sure how he¡¯d gotten here, a day and a night away, on the other side of the city. He felt a little dazed, as though he¡¯d blinked too long and hadn¡¯t quite caught up yet. Somehow, one mission to see the festival had turned into a quest to free Elysia and Apis? And, perhaps, be the heroes of the city?

    This was what happened when he talked to the common folk. He should have listened to his mother.

    Duran poked him in the shoulder.

    ¡°Are you going to move, or not? The food is great here!¡±

    The pinched-face woman, Prisca, was tying their boat to the little pillar at the dock here. A goat was grazing, next to a singular scrawny chicken.

    Servius wasn¡¯t meant to be in places like this. He was the heir to a lord. He was meant to hire people to suffer it for him.

    Still, as long as the wind was blowing towards the city, he could almost ignore the stink. Duran was already jumping onto the rock, his sword swinging wildly with the movement. No one was telling Servius that he was important, or that they would miss him. It looked like they might actually leave him behind if he didn¡¯t step towards the lighthouse.

    Servius looked across the harbor, towards where his parents lived. Would they be missing him yet?

    Surely not. It was Flight¡¯s Feast. They had¡­. meetings, of some sort, surely.

    He stepped off the boat and onto the rock. Duran grabbed his arm again, dragging him into the lighthouse before he could gather himself. ¡°You¡¯ve got to see the inside,¡± Duran said. ¡°Amatus used to be a pirate! He¡¯s got so many swords! And knives! And cool stuff!¡±

    Servius stumbled as he followed Duran through the door. Inside, it stank of a strange rot. It smelled a little like the ocean gone wrong. A man stood at a stove, thumping the chimney with the end of a broom.

    ¡°Cursed thing! Hope all those birds go to the-¡± He paused, then peered over his shoulder. He was very old, and very shriveled, but not evenly. It was like he¡¯d only gotten sun on part of his face. ¡°If you¡¯re here asking about-¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just me,¡± said Prisca. ¡°I do hope you¡¯re going to show that chimney mercy.¡±

    Duran was pulling Servius over to the back of the room. He lowered his voice. ¡°Look at this axe,¡± he said. ¡°A real battle-axe! Do you suppose it¡¯s seen real battle?¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Servius put a hand over the blade. Too-late, he pulled back his finger. It beaded with blood. He stared at the rest of the rack, in awe. That was an awful amount of weapons. ¡°Wow,¡± he said, reverent.

    There were some good things about quests. Even if they were hot, and humid, and you had to sleep near the docks sometimes, tucked in next to trash. He¡¯d had to look at fish bones last night.

    ¡°I know,¡± said Duran. ¡°Here, hold this dagger.¡±

    ¡°Could send a man a notice! Can¡¯t have this place ready for visitors all the time!¡± He squinted. ¡°Although those pamphlets are real good for-¡± The man behind them was grumbling loud enough to interrupt even Servius¡¯s reverie.

    ¡°If you keep using my pamphlets to start fires, I¡¯ll start a fire in your beard! Those are proclamations by Carmen, the Voice of the-¡±

    ¡°I already told you, she¡¯s no small god of mine, and you can tell her I said that personally. Never was one much for the oprey. You got something else to say?¡± There was a shuffling and thumping behind them. Servius hefted the dagger in his hand once, twice. It shone along the blade, ripples showing in the metal. It was very fine work. ¡°Oh, you. BOY! You brought Apis again?¡±

    Duran shook his head and turned away from the dagger. ¡°Sir,¡± he said, voice unexpectedly earnest, ¡°It¡¯s awful. Apis is wanted. For arson!¡±

    ¡°They burned down another temple? This place is falling apart! Misery of a city! Should go back to sea, see how that fares!¡±

    Servius tried to put back the dagger, as gently as he could manage. He fumbled it and it fell with a great clatter. As he picked it up with a wince, he realized the hilt had been dented. That would come out, wouldn¡¯t it?

    ¡°No, not another temple! The temple of Andrena!¡±

    ¡°ANDRENA?¡±

    Servius jumped and dropped the dagger again.

    ¡°This is what happens when you don¡¯t let me speak to you,¡± said Prisca. ¡°Put that dagger down, you¡¯re going to hurt yourself.¡±

    Servius didn¡¯t want to listen to her, but he¡¯d been caught, so he left it on the floor and turned to face the main part of the room. The man- Amatus, he thought- was sitting tucked into the booth seating underneath the main window. Prisca was still leaned against the doorway, and Duran was next to him, half-leaned towards the rack of weapons.

    ¡°It could go bad any moment,¡± he said, earnestly. ¡°They think he did it, somehow. They even took his bees, everything. They locked them up!¡±

    ¡°Imprisoning bees! That¡¯s what happens when you obey the government. They¡¯ll take your bees.¡±Servius lost track of the rest of the complaints within Amatus¡¯s mumbling and his beard. His accent was very thick, very northern. ¡°..Damn shame,¡± he said, eventually. ¡°Good kid! Good kid!¡±

    ¡°So, you¡¯ll keep track of these two,¡± said Prisca, unfolding her arms and turning towards the doorway. ¡°I¡¯ll be back tomorrow. I need to go deal with the guard.¡±

    ¡°Deal with the guard? Don¡¯t you need someone armed?¡±

    ¡°Hardly! I¡¯ve got connections.¡±

    Servius frowned at her. Last time they¡¯d been in the guard, they¡¯d seemed to hate her. They¡¯d even ducked, like she usually fought them. ¡°What kind of-¡±

    ¡°Useful boys stay silent,¡± she snapped. ¡°I¡¯ll be back tomorrow. If necessary, I¡¯ll free Apis. For now, I need to find¡­ Elysia, was it?¡± Servius was losing confidence by the moment. ¡°Excellent,¡± said Prisca, when no one argued with her. Duran was squeezing his lips shut, hand clenched. Amatus was staring at the chimney again. ¡°Good day.¡±

    As soon as she was out of sight, Duran turned to Amatus. ¡°You¡¯re good at fighting, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    Amatus scratched at his chin. ¡°Suppose I am,¡± he said. ¡°Was, once. Best way to fight is to not start one in the first place, though.¡±

    ¡°I have an idea,¡± said Duran. ¡°Do you think you might help us?¡±

    The wall of weapons behind them loomed. Servius closed his eyes. Please. Please, say no, Amatus. End this quest.

    ¡°Sure,¡± said Amatus. ¡°Fire away.¡±

 46. Back from the Dead

    I stepped out of the bathhouse, clothes still dripping, to find a coach waiting. It had been re-trimmed since I¡¯d been here last, new paint and gold foil shimmering. The inside had likely been re-upholstered. If I dripped on it, they¡¯d need to fix it again.

    I stepped back as a footman stepped down and pulled the door open for me, bowing.

    ¡°Miss Elysia,¡± he said. ¡°Welcome home.¡±

    Oh, no. I had been gone for fourteen years. I felt a wash of guilt and gave a wild stab in the dark. ¡°Thank you¡­ ah¡­Rufus?¡±

    ¡°Regulus,¡± he said. He looked towards Cornelia. ¡°Will she also be attending?¡±

    They were glaring at each other. I didn¡¯t want to know. ¡°I don¡¯t know, will she?¡± I raised a brow at her.

    ¡°This is not what we agreed on,¡± she hissed.

    I hadn¡¯t really explained my plan to her, to be fair. This was because I hadn¡¯t had one. I needed to find Duran. I needed to get Apis out of Kingshome. After that, I was going to¡­ go to the Spire, and get revenge on Sylvia, somehow.

    Well, I hadn¡¯t gotten that far in my plan. My mother¡¯s help- as much as I hated to admit it- was a big step forward.

    ¡°Go off on your own, then,¡± I said. ¡°I won¡¯t mind.¡±

    I stepped inside the coach, my clothes squishing. I was holding the cloak separately, the better to help the rest of my clothes dry. I hadn¡¯t anticipated being forced to go back to that house. Otherwise I would have just forced her to foot the bill at the Laundresses. As it was, I fiddled with the window on the other side until it half-rolled down.

    After a moment, the step creaked again. The seat in front of me thumped.

    ¡°This is ridiculous,¡± huffed Cornelia.

    She was growing on me a little. I thought this was ridiculous, too.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re so fixated on Duran,¡± I said, wringing out part of my skirt and watching a puddle form in front of her shoes. She moved them out of the way before it could get on the neat leather. ¡°Surely Sylvia doesn¡¯t care that much. She was probably just fulfilling her duty, as far as she saw it. She¡¯d be thankful to be rid of him. Most people are.¡±

    With a crack of the reins, the coach started moving. It was a long ride from the top of the city to the bottom, especially mid-day like this. I sat back and sighed. It was warming up in the carriage, too, even with the faint breeze from the open window.

    Maybe I should have walked, after all.

    ¡°I am following him,¡± said Cornelia, ¡°To fulfill my duty.¡±

    It might have been the head injury, but I felt like there was another connection here. No one wanted to spend time with Duran enough to spend multiple days searching for him, through the city. Especially not enough to bring the city guard into it.

    We rattled through, the footman shouting at someone in the road. The coach screeched to a stop in what I thought was the temple district. I propped open the door to try and get some air as he jumped off to try and get a way through the traffic.

    There was the sound of chanting. I could see the crowd around the spire. They were crying for justice.

    I¡¯m trying. Have some patience, here.

    Someone had brought out an effigy to burn. The first match fell into the straw, then fizzled out. We were too far away for me to make out the details of the face. It was wearing the robes of a lawmaker.

    ¡°The other boy,¡± I said, finally making the connection. ¡°That¡¯s why you¡¯re still looking. Isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Cornelia didn¡¯t respond. The footman returned and nodded to me. He was carrying a chicken. He had a bundle of carrots slung over his shoulder. Another mystery of city life. ¡°Apologies. The traffic just needed some mild encouragement.¡±

    I pulled my head back inside the coach as we began moving. The effigy burst into flame, everyone cheering. We¡¯d taken the long way around the festival, extending our trip to avoid the crowds. It clearly hadn¡¯t worked.

    ¡°They seemed like they were becoming friends,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll bet that Duran talked him into leaving together, didn¡¯t he. They¡¯re probably out there being heroes together. Using that sword. Getting into all sorts of muck. Does Sylvia even know?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t speak of it!¡± Cornelia¡¯s shoulders had gone up around her ears. ¡°It¡¯s no matter. He¡¯ll be returned safe soon enough.¡±

    So. This was why she¡¯d stuck with me.

    ¡°Sure,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯ll keep it between us.¡± I leaned in. ¡°But I know how Duran thinks. You don¡¯t. So until we find them, you follow my plan. No more arguing.¡±

    ¡°I am a head housekeeper. I don¡¯t simply-¡±

    We rattled over another bump. The footman peered in the window. ¡°All right there, Miss Elysia?¡±

    I put on my best false smile. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Are we, Cornelia?¡±

    ¡°Very,¡± she said. She was grimacing.

    By the time we made it to the Southern District, it was nearly sunset. I could feel the time pressing at me, an ever-present anxiety. Only a couple more days until the Beetle¡¯s Flight. Until everything came to a boil.

    You couldn¡¯t send me just a little magic, Andrena? Talk about stingy.

    The coach rattled to a stop. I had to stare at my dripping skirt for a good few seconds, take a deep breath, before I forced myself out. It was just a house. She¡¯d said I had to give it another try. What was she going to do, though? Force me to speak to everyone I¡¯d abandoned? Put me in another one of those dresses? I doubted they would even fit.

    It would be a few nice meals and a soft bed. That was all. A simple task, and here I was, quivering in fear like a little girl.

    I squared my shoulders. I stepped out.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Lady Sylvia smiled at me. She was arrayed on the sidewalk, staring up at the sunset and arranging her shawl. She had a hand on the railing of the stairs, as though she was about to enter the house. My mother¡¯s house. ¡°I was wondering when you¡¯d arrive.¡±

    I stepped back into the coach. I shut the door for good measure. ¡°Don¡¯t go out there,¡± I told Cornelia. ¡°Bad weather.¡±

    She sniffed the air through the window. ¡°Doesn¡¯t smell worse than usual.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll wait it out.¡±

    Someone was knocking on the coach door. I leaned back and ignored it. This wasn¡¯t how this was meant to go! I was going to re-acquire Duran, and Apis, and then we were going to go to the Spire- or maybe just council chambers, depending on how hard it was- and then I would take revenge on Lady Sylvia for locking me up in a quarantine ship.

    She couldn¡¯t just show up at my mother¡¯s house!

    ¡°No one¡¯s home,¡± I said, loudly, as the knocks continued. ¡°Wrong coach. Continue.¡±

    ¡°I do have a sense of object permanence.¡±

    She just sounded amused. As though I was nothing but an amusing diversion.

    I considered myself. Soaked in bathwater. No power. A paladin without a sword. All of my friends gone, lost my apprentice. Forced to beg my mother for help. Accompanied by Sylvia¡¯s own housekeeper.

    I squinted over at Cornelia. ¡°You¡¯ve been reporting on me? You snake!¡±

    ¡°I would never!¡± She lowered her voice. ¡°Besides, this isn¡¯t-¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± I said. ¡°Hide. I¡¯ll defend us.¡±

    I pulled open the door again. ¡°Sylvia,¡± I said. I put on a false smile. ¡°So¡­ unexpected to see you. Delightful! But unexpected.¡±

    ¡°You should have accepted my offer,¡± she said. ¡°But you were always so silly about these things. I suppose you¡¯ve got your own plan in mind.¡±

    ¡°Listen. I¡¯m¡­ I need to go freshen up, and I¡¯m terribly embarrassed.¡± I held out my dripping arm. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you could go distract the footmen so I could slip inside and change? You¡¯d be my hero.¡±

    If Sylvia had respected me even an inch- if she¡¯d viewed me as an opponent- she wouldn¡¯t have taken her eyes off of me. I¡¯d pulled tricks using this lie as her accomplice many times as a teenager.

    This time, she smiled gently at me. ¡°Of course. How horrible. Let me just step up the stairs, and you can follow. My apologies.¡±

    ¡°Thank you eternally!¡± I jumped out as soon as her back was turned, gesturing to Cornelia. We scrambled up the steps and were inside before Sylvia was finished telling the guardsman about how much she enjoyed the decorations today.

    My mother had out-done herself. The house hadn¡¯t changed at the core, but the decorations were all updated and lavish as always. Someone had also facilitated what seemed to be a complete explosion of beetles.

    She was standing at the end of the entryway, holding a glass of what looked like wine and speaking to an older man in councilors robes. When I ran in, she set it down and turned to me with her diplomat¡¯s smile.

    ¡°Elysia! How¡­ inspiring of you! Come, follow me upstairs.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you were expecting,¡± I said. She was walking quickly enough it was nearly a run.

    ¡°I thought you might have another set of clothes,¡± she said. ¡°I know you were raised with more than one. I had them made myself.¡±

    ¡°No point in bringing more than one. This is a short visit.¡±

    She led me to one of the guest suites, threw open the door. ¡°There are some dresses set here for you,¡± she said. ¡°My old dresses.¡± She obviously ran an eye over my figure and came up disappointed. ¡°I hope they¡¯ll fit you. Your woman here can fit you, I suppose?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s not my servant,¡± I said, about the same time Cornelia began objecting. Neither of us was heard. My mother was already storming out.

    ¡°I apologize,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m sure I can dress myself.¡±

    ¡°You will finish this dinner quickly,¡± said Cornelia. She was already midway through the closet, arms-deep. ¡°Then we will leave, I will obtain young lord Servius, and we will never speak of this again.¡±

    ¡°¡­.Agreed.¡±

    She threw a dress at me. I caught it mid-air and put it on before we could say anything else to each other. I tightened the laces, too, in case Cornelia got any bright ideas about strangling me that way. Time in confined spaces with her did not make the heart fonder.

    ¡°I¡¯ll- be back soon,¡± I said, putting a hand on the doorway as I headed downstairs.

    ¡°Make sure of it,¡± she said. ¡°Otherwise, next time, I¡¯ll keep your apprentice.¡±

    That wasn¡¯t as much of a threat as she thought it was. I turned, nearly tripping over the overly-long hemline, and made my way into the party.

    My mother had outdone herself. As soon as I stepped into the throng, she held up a glass. ¡°For my daughter, returned from the dead!¡±

    The chatter got louder at the declaration. I had missed most of the speech; I just heard the clapping. I leaned into an old man¡¯s ear and said, ¡°How did I survive?¡±

    ¡°Hah?¡±

    ¡°Miss Elysia,¡± I said. ¡°How did she live?¡±

    He scratched underneath his chin. ¡°Guess some temple,¡± he said. ¡°Teuthida, maybe? They¡¯re saying it¡¯s a sign.¡± He shrugged loosely. ¡°Maybe that man will finally¡­¡± He trailed off. ¡°Did they bring those fried tentacles again? Oh, I love a good fried-¡±

    I left. So. She¡¯d gone with the ¡®mysteriously sheltered by a temple¡¯ theory. I gave as many false smiles as I could, weaving through the party. As long as I kept moving, I could avoid Sylvia¡¯s gaze at the other side of the room.

    ¡°Hey! Watch it!¡±

    I paused. ¡°Do I- know you?¡±

    The woman that had snapped at me pulled the glass away from me. She was intimidating, with wide arms and a proud stance. She tilted her head, stared me down. ¡°You¡¯ve been staying with that man,¡± she said, at the same time I recognized her.

    ¡°You¡¯re Apis¡¯s landlord,¡± I said. ¡°Why are you here?¡±

    ¡°Representing the guild.¡± She flashed a fat silver ring at me, shining on her middle finger. ¡°Someone¡¯s got to go to all these parties. Feels like there are more and more every week, now that it¡¯s festival season.¡± She ate a fried tentacle with a crunch. ¡°Not that I¡¯m complaining.¡±

    Maybe she could help, and I would get out of this deal with my mother. ¡°Actually, speaking of Apis. Did you hear that-¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes, nasty business,¡± she said. ¡°You know, I actually had to report him myself. Found those gloves, and I knew. Can¡¯t be having any illegal activity on my premises. Simple as.¡±

    She held out the tray. ¡°Fried tentacle?¡±

    I took one.

    I washed into the crowd as I crunched on it. The landlady?

    I had thought it might be some advanced technique. A way to get rid of my investigation, to force us away. Maybe Sylvia trying to throw me off the scent.

    I hadn¡¯t thought it might just be that Landlady, trying to get rid of Apis. It all made a strange sort of sense. If I¡¯d ever had a kind of luck, it was the bad kind.

    I reached out to take another fried tentacle. It was very good.

    ¡°I hope you¡¯re making the rounds,¡± said my mother, her hand on my shoulder. I could see the moon rising behind her shoulder, out of the window. ¡°Have you said hello to all of the councilors? They¡¯ve been at a lot of different meetings lately, so the amount of strings I had to pull-¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± I said. ¡°Been meeting. Good party. Thank you for the tentacle.¡±

    ¡°Hmmm.¡± Her lips pressed together. ¡°At least you found a dress.¡±

    This was as cordial as we ever got. I took a drink of wine instead of speaking further.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you go speak to the priests of the beetle we brought in,¡± she said. She pointed over the corner. ¡°They even brought in an Imago, from the northern sea. It might help if you¡¯d like to reconcile with your¡­ well, your husband.¡±

    The imago was a strange figure here, in the idle south. She was wearing a pair of glasses with hundreds of lenses in each frame, reflecting the light into hundreds of different reflections. It flickered brightly every time she turned her head.

    Why was my mother inviting beetle cult members to her parties? ¡°Aren¡¯t they¡­¡± I winced. ¡°You know, crazy?¡± I pointed to my head. People said they all shared one brain. As if this needed to get worse.

    ¡°Just go and say hello. It would really make the baron happy-¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going out to see the moon,¡± I interrupted. I would come back to the party soon enough. ¡°You already requested the changes, didn¡¯t you? I¡¯ll be back soon enough.¡±

    Before she could argue, I was stepping out, through the crush of people and bodies. Even as I tried to leave, they stepped in my way. Reached out to say hello, to ask me how I¡¯d enjoyed my time at the temple. Asking if I¡¯d seen the truth in Teuthida¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°Oh, I saw a lot of truth,¡± I snapped, and stepped through the back door.

    Hunched by the exit, smoking the bottom of a pipe, was Cornelia. She looked up guiltily. ¡°Ah-¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s been long enough.¡±

    ¡°This garden is walled in,¡± she said. She doused the smoke. She had clearly been eavesdropping. For some reason, that was what made me actually like her. At least she had some personality. ¡°What do you mean to-¡±

    ¡°You think I grew up here and can¡¯t break out?¡± I didn¡¯t run, but I walked fast, past the new garden beds and the flowers with their bowing heads, to the space where you could climb the trellis if you were limber and a little light.

    I was neither, but I was determined. I looked at Cornelia over my shoulder. ¡°Want to give me a boost?¡±

    Overhead, the moon shimmered. One more night.

 47. [Sidequest] Standard Procedure

    They had brought in the bees early last night. Marcus, who had just started his shift, had thought he might be having a hallucination.

    The arresting crew had wheeled the hive in, men holding up shields and yelping at every sting.

    ¡°Hold it back!¡± One had shouted.

    ¡°Never let down the wall!¡± Another had shouted. ¡°We can¡¯t let down the department!¡±

    ¡°For Cabellus!¡± The lieutenant had tried, but no one had taken him up on the battle chant. Most of the other guardsmen Marcus knew hadn¡¯t proclaimed themselves for any specific god.

    Marcus had swallowed, licking the end of the quill and looking between the other guards. Their faces had been swollen, angry.

    ¡°Can we¡­ arrest a bee, sir?¡± He had said, going to his highest superior. The lieutenant hadn¡¯t given him any mercy.

    ¡°We aren¡¯t arresting the bees, Marcus. We¡¯re taking this as collateral. For arresting a person. That¡¯ll be Apis of Andrena¡¯s Foundling- no, that¡¯s only one N-¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± muttered Marcus. He had written faster. What had he done to earn this?

    Now, with no mercy, and as the only guardsman on duty, he was able to admit it. The buzzing was driving. Him. Mad.

    He leaned forward. Slammed his head on the desk. He had just begun his shift. He had an entire night ahead of him!

    ¡°All right there, Markey?¡± They only had one prisoner tonight, a drunk named Paulus. Marcus wouldn¡¯t call him a ¡®friend¡¯, but he was arrested most nights, and yes, they talked occasionally. It got lonely at night! Was it such a crime?

    ¡°Fine enough,¡± he called back. It was just one of the drunks, poured into the cell after a night at the mead. ¡°How are you? Hangover all right?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± said Paulus. ¡°They¡¯re running out of the good stuff. I might actually have to stop drinking. What¡¯s the use of living in the city if you have to drink filth?¡±

    Marcus turned back to the page where he was meant to fill in paperwork. He was still stuck on question one. Name of the arrested. Did a bee-hive have a name?

    He frowned, then scribbled in, ¡°confiscated property.¡±

    Then he scribbled it out, crumpling up the paper and throwing it into the bin. It was the fourteenth copy.

    ¡°Maybe next time!¡± Called Paulus. He slumped to the floor. ¡°Any chance of a snack?¡±

    Before Marcus could respond, the door thumped open. He glanced up. ¡°Lieutenant,¡± he tried, ¡°I¡¯m trying to fill it out, but-¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m here to collect the bees,¡± said a voice. Markus looked first to the left, then to the right. Finally, he peered over the counter. A boy stood there. Blond hair, cut so bluntly it must have been some sort of equipment accident, and an accent so thick he could have been gargling knives. A newcomer to the city, then. He held a sword with both hands. Marcus leaned back before it could cut him.

    ¡°Ah,¡± he said. ¡°About that. I¡¯m afraid only family can pay bail, so-¡± That was another problem with the form. Weren¡¯t bees¡­ the entire family, themselves? Could a bee own money?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m here to support him,¡± said an old man, looming out of the shadows. He was grizzled, and scarred, and- was he wearing a battle-ax?

    ¡°Sir,¡± said Marcus, ¡°According to civil law 12.4, safety on the streets, civilians aren¡¯t allowed to carry battle-axes anymore.¡±

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    ¡°What?¡± The man stopped midway towards his desk. Marcus retreated towards the wall, keeping his eye on the door. Was it a violation of his job if he ran? ¡°What do you mean, not allowed to carry battle-axes? What if I want to go to battle?¡±

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re allowed to carry a sword for that,¡± said Marcus. ¡°Otherwise, it¡¯s a violation of the peace on the streets. A battle-axe isn¡¯t permitted in a duel.¡±

    ¡°Damn this country. Was better when we were an empire. Fine!¡±

    He sheathed the axe. Marcus sighed in relief. Then the man unsheathed a sword. Marcus tensed back up.

    ¡°Ah- there¡¯s no need-¡±

    ¡°Of course there isn¡¯t!¡± The boy was pulling himself up so his nose could peek over the counter. Marcus was a little insulted. They¡¯d built the counter tall on purpose, to keep all the riff-raff out. ¡°All you have to do is give us the bees, and we¡¯ll leave.¡±

    There was another boy, Marcus realized, in the shadow of the axe-man. He hadn¡¯t said anything. He just stared, looking down his nose as though he disapproved of everything. This was impressive, as most everything within the jail was above him.

    ¡°I already said, only family can pay bail,¡± said Marcus. ¡°I¡¯m very sorry, but it¡¯s against regulation.¡±

    He would never hear the end of it if bees escaped on his watch. What would they say about him then? No longer Mealy-Mouth-Marcus. Although- he frowned, trying to think of a joke about it. Did something about bees alliterate with Marcus?

    ¡°I think you ought to let the bees go!¡± shouted Paulus, still slurring. ¡°I¡¯ve been speaking to them, and they seem friendly enough to me.¡±

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re not a guardsman, are you?¡±

    ¡°And all the better for it! Only one of us is working, isn¡¯t that right?¡±

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re in a cell, so I think I¡¯m actually winning,¡± said Marcus. Then he didn¡¯t say much at all, because a sword was at his throat. He backed up, towards the door. His hand slipped over the handle. When had his palm become so sweaty?

    He looked up, up, towards the old man¡¯s face. Where he might have seen regret, thoughtfulness in someone else¡¯s eyes, he saw only wild joy. The man smiled. Marcus saw a lot of bar fighters come in every night.

    Generally speaking, how many teeth they had was a sign of how well they fought. The better fighters would keep most of their front teeth, a few of their molars. The worse ones would have a smile of gold, a few silver. The worst of all would be all gums.

    The man smiled at him with perfect teeth. All bone. ¡°I wasn¡¯t plannin on paying,¡± he said. ¡°So. Your keys?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure this is heroic,¡± said the blonde boy. He had come around the desk now, although he still hadn¡¯t put away the sword, and it waved very close to certain parts of Marcus that he held dear. Marcus really wished he would put it away.

    ¡°I agree,¡± said the dark-haired boy. ¡°Perhaps we should contact my mother.¡±

    The blonde boy hummed in thought. The sword swayed again. Marcus swallowed and stepped slightly back.

    ¡°It¡¯s always heroic to hurt the guardsmen,¡± said the old man. Marcus shook his head vigorously. ¡°The law ain¡¯t on your side.¡± Marcus shook his head more. ¡°The only person that can help you is yourself.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s very heroic to help the law,¡± said Marcus, as soon as he could get a word in. ¡°The law is here to help you, and every hero knows that the real heroes are the ones that enforce peace on the streets.¡±

    ¡°My mother says the law is whatever you can pay for,¡± said the dark-haired boy.

    The boy frowned. His sword wavered. Apparently unsure, he eventually turned to Paulus.

    Paulus shrugged. ¡°Marcus is all right. I don¡¯t think you ought to kill him. He gives me snacks sometimes. And he¡¯s funny, in a stodgy, boring, kind of way.¡±

    Marcus had never been so thankful to be called stodgy and boring. ¡°Look,¡± he said, desperate. ¡°I don¡¯t like the bees being here either. But- could you at least make it look like you fought me? You know, tie me up? Leave a few bruises?¡±

    The old man squinted at him. ¡°You want me to hurt you?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll make fun of me if they think I did paperwork for bees,¡± said Marcus.

    ¡°I can see what they mean,¡± said the man.

    A few minutes later, Marcus wiggled as the ropes were tightened around his wrist. ¡°I think that¡¯s enough,¡± he said, hopefully.

    ¡°Now,¡± said the old man. ¡°Pay attention, boys. When you want a prisoner to talk, you want to hit them with the flat of your blade. If you leave scars, that¡¯s money off of the ransom.¡±

    Marcus winced as the blade of the sword came down on his shoulder. ¡°I think that¡¯s fine!¡± He squeaked out.

    ¡°What if I don¡¯t want information?¡± asked the blonde one. The blade shone menacingly above him.

    ¡°Well, usually I¡¯d kill em,¡± said the old man. ¡°Although I guess we have to leave this one alive.¡±

    Marcus squirmed under their gaze. ¡°The others might come back soon,¡± he suggested. ¡°Very soon? Now, perhaps?¡±

    ¡°Right!¡± The old man sheathed his blade, clapped his hands. ¡°You think you have enough injuries? Enough proof?¡±

    Marcus thought he might be more bruise than person. He smiled through the wince. ¡°Very good,¡± he said. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    To add insult to injury, the bees just buzzed happily as they were taken out the front door. There was no need for a wall of shields, no screaming. Marcus watched his favorite key-chain, the one with a little carving of a tree, walk right out the door with them. He slumped back in defeat.

    His legs were already going numb. ¡°They didn¡¯t even give back my keys,¡± he moaned.

    ¡°Think of it this way!¡± Paulus hadn¡¯t lost his spirit, even when they were slapping Marcus with the blade. ¡°I¡¯ll bet you get to take Beetle¡¯s Flight off, now.¡±

 48. Kingshome

    Now that the sun had set, the traffic had finally cleared up. I had to tie up the formal dress around my knees, the bodice making a sick ripping sound. I ignored it and plowed forward, jumping off of the wall and down into the roads of the Southern District. Other than a few blank changes of flags, a few new flowers, it was all the same as it had been when I¡¯d grown up here. The same people, standing around and feeling important.

    I turned around and held up my hands. ¡°You need help?¡±

    ¡°Hardly!¡±

    Cornelia jumped off, surprisingly spry for her age. I paused. Well, she wasn¡¯t that much older than I was, was she? I looked down, just to check my knees were still intact.

    When I looked back up, Cornelia was already walking north. I rushed to keep up, hobbled by the skirt. I thought wistfully of my cloak, still packed upstairs. I¡¯d have to come back for it, Apis freed or not.

    ¡°Where do you think Duran will be, then?¡± She said.

    We wound through streets, keeping a fast pace. We were both breathing a little hard, making conversation difficult. With the festival so close, the parties had begun to spread out. Now the sound of music and laughter was nearly everywhere in the city, lights out and images of beetles everywhere. It was almost enough to make me miss the city.

    Then I remembered the crush of people in my mother¡¯s house and shuddered. The distance between almost and enough was big enough to fit a lifetime.

    ¡°Wherever there¡¯s the most trouble,¡± I said, and sped up.

    I didn¡¯t actually know if Kingshome would be open at night, but that was a problem for later. I didn¡¯t want Apis to be forced to spend the night there if he didn¡¯t have to.

    It was in the heart of the Hammer, the legal district nestled next to the harbor. The beating, disgusting heart of the city. We passed across the bridge with no trouble from the guard- he was half-asleep, leaning against a piling- and made it through the haze of the festival with little difficulty. On foot, it was easy to cut through alleys whenever the roads got congested.

    It was easy to tell when the familiar roads of the temple district cut out to enter the Hammer. There were no distinct signs, but you didn¡¯t need them. The buildings stretched a little taller here, the lights burned brighter. The Hammer was the smallest district of the Capital. It was also the cleanest. The dirtiness here was all underneath the surface.

    I swallowed as we entered the district, suddenly a little nervous. The guards had nearly doubled just within a block. I straightened up and tried to look respectable. It felt like I might have pulled a muscle.

    ¡°Keep it moving!¡± Barked one at me.

    ¡°I am moving!¡±

    Cornelia and I avoided eye contact, but we walked a little closer together. There had been large banners hung, but they weren¡¯t for the festival. It was just the flag for our country, the broken crown repeated over and over like it was the day of collapse all over again.

    There wasn¡¯t technically anything wrong with it, I supposed. The broken crown was our flag. It just felt¡­ strange, to be here and not see a single symbol of the beetle, when the full-fledged festival was happening only a few blocks away.

    ¡°Very festive atmosphere,¡± I muttered to her.

    ¡°Better to keep moving,¡± she replied, and sped up. I had no choice but to follow.

    We wound through a few roads before we finally came to the intersection. On the right rose City Hall. The dome shone in the light of the moon, silvery and slightly tarnished. The beheaded statues seemed especially grim in this light.

    I glanced away, towards Kingshome. It was a squat building, quickly made out of brick and whatever else they¡¯d cobbled together in the collapse. It had a shining roof, too.

    Layers upon layers of swords. So thick that they made their own tiling pattern. If I squinted, I thought I could see the royal guard pattern on some of the hilts, but it might have been a delusion after too much time and not enough sleep.

    Dreadfully useless, as a roof. Famous for leaking. I stared at them for a moment more, rusting in the night, before we walked up to the entrance. Four guards stood to either side. Above their heads, a brass plaque shone.

    EQUALITY IN DEATH ? TRUTH IN CAGES

    ¡°Well. Cheerful.¡±

    I ignored Cornelia¡¯s comment and stepped up to the guard with the largest plume in his helmet. These were the only city guards I¡¯d ever seen with plumes, which indicated they were presumably even more dangerous than the usual ones. ¡°I¡¯m here about a prisoner,¡± I said. ¡°His name is Apis. Brought here earlier. Ward of Andrena, about-¡±

    Before I could gesture, a shorter guard stepped forward. Only when he started speaking did I realize it was actually a woman, her expression extremely exhausted. ¡°Go inside,¡± she said. ¡°The other ones already showed up.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean, the other ones?¡±

    ¡°With the bees,¡± said one of the other guards, which didn¡¯t clarify anything at all. Still, I stepped inside, towards an echoing entryway.

    They¡¯d paved the receiving room in pennies from before the collapse. I stepped on hundreds of faces of the last king, which was rather disconcerting and definitely echoey. I had a brief thought about how much it must have cost in labor before I managed to make it to the counter, which was made of much more sensible wood.

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Hello,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m here about-¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re here about Apis, they¡¯re already in the visitor¡¯s room,¡± he said, and pointed over to his right. ¡°I can¡¯t release him until dawn. Technically, he doesn¡¯t count as a visitor yet.¡±

    He was pressing against something on his cheek. As he took his hand away from it to point, I realized it was a swollen spot, bright red. A bee sting?

    I followed his hand anyway. ¡°You don¡¯t want us to- sign in? Prove who we are?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve got forty guards on site. You¡¯re two middle-aged ladies.¡±

    That was soundly insulting. ¡°Excuse you! I could do some damage.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sure. Do you want to see him or not?¡± He was rummaging around for something behind the desk. As if he wasn¡¯t even listening to me! I leaned over, ready to tell him about my qualifications, when Cornelia grabbed my arm.

    ¡°Do you want to succeed, or not! Really!¡±

    I pulled back. She had a point. ¡°Fine,¡± I said. ¡°But this isn¡¯t a concession!¡±

    There were two doors out of the echoey coin-room. One to our left, where he had pointed. Another, a much more dense door, behind the counter. I gave it one last thoughtful glance before I moved left, with Cornelia.

    The door pushed open under my hand. No lock.

    There was a strange set-up there. A half-height wall divided the room. Seats had been set up on our side of the wall, and on the other side of the wall, the entire room was mirrored; right down to the door, which must lead somewhere behind the coin-room. I imagined dense pathways of cells, presumably full of deposed kings and horrible criminals.

    Inside the room were three guards on our side, two on the other. Apis leaned against the half wall, manacled and smiling.

    On our side, Duran stood on tip-toe, trying to see over the half-wall. He had the sword sheathed- excellent- and was holding up a bee hive (so that Apis could see it?)

    I stuck by the door to try and check the rest of the room before I approached that. There was Servius, hiding in the corner and speaking to- was that Prisca? How had she come back? And Amatus was here, approaching me, of all people.

    ¡°I wondered when you¡¯d arrive!¡± He said. He grabbed me by the shoulder with one big hand and shook my hand with the other. ¡°The boy said you were captured, but you seemed like a slippery one to me. Figured we¡¯d check the prison for Apis, and sure enough! And then, look at you. Right on time!¡±

    I was still being shaken back and forth. I pulled myself out of his grip and tried to survey the room. The guards seemed as horrified by the situation as I was. How had the hive gotten involved?

    ¡°Why,¡± I said, starting with the most important thing, ¡°Do you have a battle-axe out?¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t want anyone to hurt the bees,¡± he said.

    ¡°¡­Right.¡±

    I backed away and, against all reasonable caution, approached the bees. I was the paladin, wasn¡¯t I? That should gain me something.

    ¡°Apis!¡± I said. I had to shout over the buzzing. ¡°Are you well?¡±

    ¡°No!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you expect me to do about it!¡±

    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t either,¡± he said. He smiled. The bees were landing on him, still. It was greatly disconcerting. ¡°You showed up! I thought you were leaving.¡±

    ¡°Surely I didn¡¯t say that,¡± I said. ¡°Well- maybe I said that. But I thought better of it.¡±

    ¡°Because of Sylvia,¡± he said.

    ¡°Yes.¡± I squinted at him. ¡°Did they hit you over the head? Is that why you¡¯re smiling?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just glad you visited. You don¡¯t really need me for this, you know.¡±

    Well. I supposed he was right. But¡­ ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous,¡± I said. ¡°I need someone who knows all of that temple nonsense if we¡¯re going to break into the Spire.¡±

    Duran turned towards me, beehive wobbling, and I ducked. ¡°Why,¡± I managed, ¡°Do you have that?¡±

    ¡°Oh, sorry, Madam Elysia!¡± Somehow, he hadn¡¯t gotten stung. One of the mysteries of the universe. ¡°The guards stole everything,¡± he told me, solemn. ¡°We took it back. Look!¡±

    Without much say in the matter, I found myself in the possession of a pair of what looked like silken gloves. They stunk to skies above of whale oil.

    ¡°¡­Thank you?¡±

    ¡°I found them in the vat,¡± said Duran. ¡°Did you see the bees yet, Apis?¡±

    ¡°They look well! Please stop swinging them about!¡±

    I held the gloves up and rotated them in front of my face. Was this¡­ this couldn¡¯t be why the land-lady had accused Apis. They would never fit him! They wouldn¡¯t even fit me. Dreadfully small.

    I shoved them in my pocket, just in case Duran felt like leaving them lying about anywhere else. Never good to take any chances.

    ¡°Right,¡± I said, turning to the rest of the room. The hive had been set down, and the bees were starting to calm. ¡°We¡¯re here until-¡±

    Servius¡¯s elbow was in Cornelia¡¯s arm. She approached Duran in four rapid strides, now that the beehive was out of play. ¡°You¡¯ve had your fun. Put the sword down and follow me.¡±

    ¡°What? No!¡±

    ¡°Well, you¡¯ve put your eyes upon him,¡± I said. ¡°Surely you don¡¯t need them both.¡±

    Servius didn¡¯t look too enthusiastic either. He was staring at the floor, face uneasy. What had Cornelia said to him while I was distracted with Apis?

    ¡°I swore to fulfill a sacred duty,¡± said Cornelia. I never quite saw her move, but every time I blinked, she seemed to be getting closer to Duran. ¡°My Lady specifically requested I train you. You would have me give up? For a childish whim? For bees?¡±

    Duran had backed up with every one of her movements forward. His back hit the wall. He fumbled for the hilt of the sword.

    ¡°No need to make a fuss. You¡¯ll be trained at one of the finest houses-¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to!¡± cried Duran. He pulled out the sword, draw uneven. Cornelia had to step rapidly back to avoid the blade. ¡°I already have an apprenticeship.¡±

    ¡°Put the blade away,¡± she snarled.

    The guards in the corner were looking anxious. This was going to go badly, soon. I stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder.

    ¡°Listen,¡± I said. ¡°He¡¯s made his choice. We both know Sylvia¡¯s never going to check.¡±

    Cornelia turned to face me, lips pressed into a tense line. ¡°I am maintaining-¡±

    ¡°He was my apprentice first.¡± When in doubt, rely upon the ancient rules. ¡°I have dibs.¡±

    ¡°What about Servius! He deserves freedom too!¡±

    ¡°Servius,¡± I said, gritting my teeth, ¡°Is going to go home, have a nice bath, and enjoy some well-roasted boar with an apple in its mouth. Don¡¯t worry about Servius.¡±

    Duran¡¯s blade rose. ¡°Duran,¡± I said, ¡°That¡¯s an order. One problem at a time.¡±

    All of the breath left Cornelia in a slow hiss when he obeyed me. I watched Duran out of the corner of my eye, but he didn¡¯t move the blade any further; just kept it out, a threat. Cornelia kept a tight grasp on Servius¡¯s wrist as she turned around, stomped out of the room. She didn¡¯t speak to me again.

    As soon as they were out of sight, I said, ¡°Put that blade back in the sheath.¡±

    It shimmered, with some sort of magic, in the right light. Had it always done that? I shuddered at Andrena¡¯s mention of it. An abyssal blade.

    The corner only held Amatus now. He had pulled out a grindstone somewhere and was now scraping it along the edge of his axe in an uneven rhythm, whistling to himself.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± said one of the guards, ¡°But aren¡¯t you going to leave, too?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re waiting for a pardon to come through,¡± I said. I ambled over to the side of the room, slid down to sit next to Amatus. ¡°My guess is that you¡¯ll hear of it by dawn.¡± I stifled a yawn with a hand. My mother had promised to interfere in the bureaucracy of the Capital to help me, but I wanted to stay and monitor to make sure she¡¯d actually come through on her promise. She sometimes had¡­ creative ideas of her own.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± he said. ¡°Do you actually mean to stay here?¡±

    I leaned back against the half-wall too, raising my brows. ¡°I thought your job was to keep people in. You¡¯re welcome.¡±

    His partner made a vague gesture, a rolling motion of a hand. If I remembered my gods correctly, she was praying to the beetle for time to move quicker. I slumped down and took off one of my boots, tipping out a rock. I agreed. Time couldn¡¯t move quickly enough.

 49. Breakfast

    I woke to a bee perched on the end of my nose. ¡°Ah!¡±

    I jumped even though I knew it was stupid, holding back a sneeze as the bee wandered away, drifting back to the hive. I hadn¡¯t meant to fall asleep. I¡¯d taken a perch at the opposite end of the room, away from Prisca- she¡¯d started asking me about speeches, and I certainly didn¡¯t want any part of that- and somewhere in between one moment and the next, a blink had turned into a nap.

    I reached up, pressed a hand to my back as I yawned. Ugh. The ache had gotten worse. I could feel a cramp starting in my legs, one that I had only started to work out in the baths. Maybe I should have stayed at my mother¡¯s house after all.

    No: I couldn¡¯t dwell on my pathetic physical surroundings any longer. Focus, Elysia.

    I swept my eyes over the room. The guards were still positioned at the doors. They had switched out at midnight, changing for another pair that looked exhausted. Duran had curled up on the floor, guarding the beehive with his body as if he was some sort of obstacle. The bees buzzed calmly around him.

    I couldn¡¯t see Apis over the wall. Presumably he was still there, unless he¡¯d gotten taken back to his cell during my brief nap.

    In the corner, Prisca was snoring. It was an alto whistling, uneven in, steady out. Amatus had sprawled out, flat on his back. His eyes were wide open. His chest rose and fell steadily. I watched them both for a moment before I stood and ventured to peer over the wall.

    There; Apis, slumped against the wall. Eyes half-closed in sleep. As I leaned over, checking on him, he opened one. ¡°Everyone still intact?¡±

    ¡°Shockingly,¡± I said. I wiped at the lower part of my cheek. I had a faint suspicion I had been drooling in my sleep.

    There was a patter and hum of rain, a late-summer squall. An even dripping in the corner meant that the famous roof was proving true to its name and leaking. We both watched it for a moment as I leaned over the half wall.

    Apis broke the silence first. ¡°A pardon,¡± he said. ¡°Where did you get one of those?¡±

    We had spent most of the previous night arguing over different ideas to break into the Spire. I realized, at Apis¡¯s question, that we had never progressed to details about Apis¡¯s rescue before everyone had given up and retreated to try and catch some sleep before dawn arrived.

    Amatus had recommended various siege weapons. I had finally interrupted him once he¡¯d started sketching out plans for a trebuchet on the floor.

    Prisca had wanted to create a riot and break in that way. Intriguing, I thought now, but too much chance to go wrong.

    Besides, neither of them saw it the way I did. I wanted to get into the Spire because I thought I could switch them to my side. If I was right, Sylvia had tricked the Voice of Teuthida just as easily as she¡¯d tricked me. If I could prove that she was a traitor, only working for her own benefit¡­ combined, they ran half of the city. It wouldn¡¯t serve me well to go storming in with a trebuchet, would it?

    Well. It would be efficient. I kept the trebuchet idea firmly in the maybe column.

    ¡°Elysia?¡± Apis said. I blinked. I had forgotten to reply.

    ¡°My mother.¡± He raised an eyebrow in question. I cleared my throat. ¡°She¡¯ll probably send someone shortly. Best to just¡­ go along with it. She agreed to help if I would stay with her. I¡¯ve decided to invite all of you along, as well.¡± When Apis left a questioning silence, I dropped my eyes to the wall and continued speaking. ¡°She¡¯s strange, but some of her connections might be¡­ useful.¡± I could have cleared this up easily by speaking to her first. Of course, that would have required suffering through speaking to her. In retrospect, I much preferred imprisonment in a quarantine boat.

    ¡°Does she know about¡­¡± He gestured vaguely. I squinted.

    ¡°The arson? Yes.¡±

    ¡°No, not the arson.¡±

    ¡°That you¡¯re part of the temple? She¡¯s technically law-affiliated, but nothing prevents her-¡±

    ¡°Not that either.¡±

    ¡°That you aren¡¯t noble? She might pretend, but we¡¯re hardly noble either, not really. If she wants to pretend, I¡¯ll-¡±

    ¡°The bees,¡± said Apis. ¡°Will she take them, too?¡±

    ¡°Oh!¡±

    I looked down at the hive, buzzing softly. ¡°She¡¯d better. I¡¯ll tell her they¡¯re a holy relic. She¡¯ll brag about it at parties forever.¡±

    I expected Apis to gasp in shock at this, but when I looked back over the wall, he was smiling instead. ¡°Thank you,¡± he said.

    ¡°Save your breath. She hasn¡¯t shown up yet. My mother¡¯s very slippery about this kind of thing.¡±

    ¡°It was clearly difficult for you,¡± he said. ¡°But you spoke to her, for me. Even though you could have just left me in here.¡± He nodded his head towards the wall. ¡°Your apprentice even rescued my bees. That means a lot to me.¡±

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    I cleared my throat and turned away to stare at Amatus, whose eyes were still wide open. Was it dawn yet? It had to be getting close. ¡°You¡¯ve helped us. It was only fair.¡±

    ¡°Still. Thank you.¡±

    Before I had to confront that any further, a woman strolled in. She had her face covered by a beautiful silk scarf, multiple colors picked out in bright embroidery. She was followed by two servants, both of which I vaguely recognized, and wearing a fine dress. She was also wearing a dark cloak and winter gloves.

    My mother stepped over Amatus¡¯s body without a second glance (displaying a shocking lack of self-preservation) and ignored him, even as he woke in a flash and grabbed for his sword, unsheathing it. The guards in the corner yelled, pulling out their swords as well. As my mother walked up to me, face still cloaked, Prisca woke up with a snort.

    Amatus had a sword to my mother¡¯s back. The servants that had followed her in had both raised their hands, pinned in the doorway. One guard had a crossbow up and pointed at Amatus. The other had a blade out, pointed at the servants.

    There was a rustling behind me. Apis was likely ducking for cover. Below me, Duran kept sleeping soundly. His face was calm.

    My mother leaned in and put both hands on my shoulders. ¡°This,¡± she said, in a whisper loud enough to echo, ¡°was not part of our deal! You never came to speak to me! Now, to be forced into a den of horrors?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous,¡± I said. ¡°This is a public building. Also, that scarf is muffling your voice.¡±

    She didn¡¯t move it. She stepped back, towards the point of Amatus¡¯s sword. Every weapon rustled. My mother, protected by her bubble of assumed nobility, never turned her head enough to notice.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous? I am not the ridiculous one! Come home at once! You will be late! To the breakfast!¡±

    ¡°What breakfast?¡±

    ¡°A little get-together I arranged.¡± She reached out and straightened my collar. I slapped her hand away. ¡°To celebrate your survival. As the guest of honor, you must be there.¡±

    ¡°You could have told me about this. I would have planned around it.¡± I tried to keep my tone even as I spoke.

    This was another one of my mother¡¯s little quirks. I hadn¡¯t run away from home as an impetuous teen. I had been well into my twenties. If you asked my mother, I had barely been a child. Certainly not capable of making decisions for myself. I closed my eyes in frustration as she began tutting again. There were only two states of being in my mother¡¯s eyes; complete insanity and child. It seemed I had gone back to childhood again.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t need to know. I know you get anxious about social affairs.¡± She darted her head back and forth. ¡°It¡¯s good that I got here in time, however. We simply must see to your wardrobe.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t leave without my companions,¡± I said. ¡°The pardon. Arrange for it.¡±

    Focus. If I could get her to focus, something could still be achieved. I couldn¡¯t let myself get distracted with the same argument I¡¯d been having since I was seventeen.

    ¡°The pardon,¡± she twittered. ¡°Hmm. It¡¯s just very scandalous, and with you having just come back¡­¡±

    ¡°If you don¡¯t manage to get a pardon, I¡¯ll get myself arrested,¡± I said. I didn¡¯t really have a plan for it, but it couldn¡¯t be that hard, surely. ¡°Then where will you be?¡±

    The scarf across her face shifted in dissatisfaction. Behind her, Amatus made a gesture. A finger drawn across his throat. I shook my head vigorously.

    My mother spoke again. ¡°Why must you demand such a- a criminal be involved?¡±

    ¡°You wanted me back,¡± I said. ¡°I demand him. He can be my-¡± I thought wildly. ¡°My taster. For poison.¡±

    ¡°Your poison taster? What century do you think this is?¡±

    ¡°It never hurts to be too careful.¡±

    There was a faint twanging motion as the crossbow guard adjusted her stance. My mother, noticing the sound, finally looked over her shoulder. I watched a brow twitch slightly.

    One of the servants, an older man, let out something like a squeak.

    ¡°Just the pardon,¡± I said. ¡°And both companions. All three of us will be very well behaved at breakfast.¡±

    ¡°All three of you?¡±

    ¡°And the hive!¡±

    ¡°The-¡±

    The bees buzzed. My mother looked down, then up. ¡°Absolutely not.¡±

    <hr>

    The guard shifted the paperwork on the desk, then looked up. My mother had pulled the scarf even higher up over her eyes as the bees buzzed closer and closer, but it was hurting her instead of helping. The bees seemed to love the brightly colored flowers on her scarf and continued to follow her, landing all over her head until she had a crown to rival Andrena¡¯s.

    ¡°Thanks for your generous donation, Lady Ferrers,¡± he said. ¡°Release of the prisoner is being processed now.¡±

    Behind us, we could hear clanking, buzzing, and muffled swearing.

    The guard slipped more paper to the side and dipped his quill into an ink-pot. ¡°Did you wish to process any more donations with the prison today?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± said my mother. ¡°Thank you! And if you could not mention-¡±

    ¡°That would be an additional donation,¡± said the guard. He offered her a form. She looked down, then up. Her eyes narrowed.

    ¡°This is daylight robbery.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s actually bribery. Are you going to pay, or not?¡±

    Duran yawned as my Mother muttered about prices back in her day. Amatus chimed in- supporting her opinion- and I watched as she shut her mouth so quickly her teeth clicked. She signed off on the other bribe with a swipe of the quill. A servant stepped forward and put a bag of gold on the desk with a thump.

    ¡°The rest will follow shortly,¡± said my Mother. ¡°This deposit for surety.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± said the guard. He took the paper and ripped it into four pieces, eating them one by one. I felt my eyebrows raise, but no one else reacted to it. My mother instead turned to the door, foot tapping impatiently. ¡°This had better be worth it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never been poisoned while eating with Apis.¡±

    ¡°The bees are nice!¡±

    My mother glanced towards Duran again with mild horror.

    ¡°You¡¯re sure he isn¡¯t yours?¡±

    ¡°Quite.¡±

    Before we could investigate that any further, the door behind the desk opened, and Apis stepped out. Free again. He looked like he¡¯d been sleeping in a ship for days, tired and rumpled and smelling of the ocean. He could probably use ten hours in the baths.

    I still felt myself smiling back for a half-second before I remembered all of the work still ahead. At least something had worked.

    While my smile faded as we walked out, however, his stayed beaming. ¡°I know it must be good to leave prison,¡± I said, ¡°But you should be realistic. We¡¯ve got an impossible task ahead, and one day to do it. We have to break into the spire, force everyone to confront the realities of Sylvia¡¯s lies- which I¡¯m not even sure about myself- and achieve justice. Then I have to either find my husband and divorce him, or leave the city-¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not focusing on the important facts,¡± said Apis. Duran had walked ahead with my mother and was attempting to put the beehive into the carriage, fighting against her protests. That left us, on the steps of the prison.

    ¡°What? What facts.¡± I folded my arms. ¡°If you have some clue-¡±

    ¡°There is a breakfast approaching,¡± he said, ¡°And you¡¯ve arranged it so I get to eat everything. I am so hungry.¡±

    The rain was slowing. I stepped through a puddle and into the carriage as we left the prison.

    One day left. I had the people. Did I have the information I needed?

 50. New Low

    ¡°Finest raw eel on crackers, brought in from the bay this morning,¡± declared a servant. ¡°Garnished with fresh dill.¡±

    The eel quivered on the shell of the cracker. The dill had been thrown haphazardly on. I could see a garnish of some sauce, pooling on the dimples of the cracker. Some of them had been underbaked.

    I reached forward and took one of the crunchier looking ones, handing it to Apis. ¡°Poisoners often hide their work in strongly flavored food, such as seafood,¡± I told my mother.

    Apis ate it in one crunch.

    We had both cleaned up some, my mother forcing us to scrub and finding fine clothes for everyone in some forgotten closet. It itched. I hadn¡¯t worn lace like this in years. I had put my foot down when she¡¯d tried to get rid of my cloak. I let my hand trace over the new repair as I stared at the glimmering eel in front of me. They¡¯d cut it and arranged it into rose shapes.

    My mother, across the table, was steaming with rage. I could tell because she hadn¡¯t stopped smiling since we¡¯d sat down for breakfast. ¡°Why don¡¯t you serve yourself some, darling?¡±

    I took two and paired them together, creating a kind of sandwich. She trembled in horror.

    Usually, it would be a complete faux pax to sit across the table from my own mother at a society event- even a casual event declaring I hadn¡¯t died of the pox, and I hadn¡¯t died last night, either. As it was, my mother was completely ignoring societal norms in order to supervise me. If she had owned a manacle, I was sure she would have clamped one around my ankle. As it was, she simply stared. Her grin kept consistently beaming my way.

    To our right and left, long lines of seats showed- well, not the highest cream of Capital society. Maybe the two-percent milk.

    I counted a few lords, several hopeful councilmen. If I had paid any attention to politics, I might have known if they were important. As it was, I just knew they were eating and not speaking to my mother.

    I swallowed the eel. It was surprisingly nice. ¡°What did you put into this sauce?¡±

    The sourness was bright, but there was another element in there. Not quite spicy, but it left my mouth tingling. I quite liked it. Next to me, Apis reached over and took another eel cracker as the servants walked through the door with the next course.

    I peered down the line and tried to spot Duran. He¡¯d filtered into the crowd to try and get a seat. Surely my mother hadn¡¯t lost him already?

    ¡°You are here as my daughter,¡± said my mother. ¡°Not as a cook!¡±

    ¡°Oh, my apologies.¡± I sat back and flattened the napkin on my lap, then gestured for someone to refill my wine cup. Only after confirming with my mother did they move to help me.

    There was one benefit of nobility. It wasn¡¯t alcoholism to start drinking in the morning. It was just participating in the culture.

    I drained half the cup- it was a nice vintage red, the type I hadn¡¯t had in years and should probably appreciate- before I put it down and gave her another smile. ¡°I would like to request you send the recipe to my cook. As my own cook, what did you put in the sauce?¡±

    ¡°My own mother once told me,¡± my mother muttered, gesturing for a servant to approach with a massive roast pig, ¡°that we are only tested with challenges that fit our suitability to match them. What did I do to the gods, to show I was capable of this?¡±

    ¡°Nan once told me that if you¡¯ve got enough pickling liquid, it doesn¡¯t matter what anyone says to you. All you need to do is find the right jar.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m attempting to impart a lesson!¡±

    ¡°So am I.¡±

    Apis put a slice of roast pig on my plate and cleared his throat. I straightened and gave my mother a false smile.

    ¡°Right!¡± Said my mother. ¡°I allowed myself to be distracted, while there was something else entirely more important going on. Elysia, look pleasant.¡±

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    I tried to smile.

    ¡°No, not that. Oh, do the other thing again. Just¡­ stay like that. No. No, don¡¯t change anything. Don¡¯t drink more wine!¡±

    I froze stiffly as she rose, tapping a knife to a cup. The lord next to me, who had previously been engaged in a long conversation about whale hunting to my left, turned to me.

    ¡°Oh, gods,¡± he said. ¡°Not this again.¡±

    ¡°Save me.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t do that. She¡¯s funding half the city.¡± He reached for his own cup of wine. I grabbed for mine, only to find it empty. When had that happened?

    Next to me, Apis was halfway through another slice of roast pig. It looked perfectly roasted, juicy and glazed with honey. I felt my stomach growl as my mother began to speak.

    ¡°Friends! Thank you so much for coming to this little casual get-together!¡±

    I looked around. The dining room had been outfitted with so many candles I suspected a fire might occur at any moment. She¡¯d taken out the good silver. She had even paid for the chandelier to be polished, and I knew the lamplighter¡¯s guild had submitted four different requests for the entire thing to be removed due to the difficulty.

    ¡°When my daughter was delivered back to me by the goddess Teuthida,¡± continued my mother, ¡°I thought it couldn¡¯t possibly be true. She had died so long ago, leaving our dear-¡±

    There was a hacking cough at the end of the table. ¡°Sorry,¡± came a voice, eventually. ¡°Must have been the eel.¡±

    My mother rallied. ¡°She has been returned to us so that the Baron can find his true love again,¡± she said. ¡°With all of your help, we can convince the Spire to open. She will find her husband, and they can be re-united. Is this not the sign of divine intervention?¡±

    The man next to me snorted and dabbed his chin with a napkin.

    Apis served me a slice of roast pig. I took a bite.

    Why did it have to be so delicious? I nearly cried. They had done everything perfectly. It was tender, a faint taste of honey and a tangy sauce, rosemary added as a fresh herb. I chewed and could barely focus on the speech.

    Could I replicate this? I¡¯d have to find the right hog, first. Not to mention start an herb garden. The one I¡¯d had back in the north had kept dying, due to patrons thinking it was an outdoor¡­ well. Suffice to say, it wasn¡¯t suitable for human consumption.

    Then, halfway through my bite, I paused. I half-swallowed as a man spoke up again.

    ¡°The Spire? Be realistic, woman. We couldn¡¯t get in there with an army.¡±

    Why is my mother trying to get me into the spire?

    I hadn¡¯t told her I wanted to get in there. She didn¡¯t know anything about my plans. Had I told her?

    No, I hadn¡¯t. Had I?

    Apis offered me a piece of bread. I paused, then took it. She was still speaking. I couldn¡¯t ask her now. Even as the guests were questioning her, my mother didn¡¯t sit down. She stared down at him, her glare legendary. ¡°We will have an army, if you can just manage to be resourceful for once. Is it too much to ask for one favor, after all of these years?¡±

    ¡°One favor this, one favor that.¡± A woman ripped a flatbread in half, swirling it through olive oil down the table. I thought I saw Duran peering past her elbow. He was too still. It was deeply suspicious. ¡°You¡¯ve been asking for our help too long. When are you going to give back to us? We can¡¯t rely on your promises anymore. I want guarantees.¡±

    ¡°What can I possibly guarantee you? This is it! We¡¯re almost there! If this goes through, you won¡¯t have to rely on that slimy girl anymore. It will be me, your reliable friend, a steady older hand, that could guide the nobility through this uncertain time-¡±

    ¡°We want the Laundresses out,¡± said another man. I squinted over. Was that a guild ring on his hand?

    My mother froze. ¡°You know I can¡¯t do that.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re breaching guild rules, helping out a god. No one¡¯s brave enough to get rid of them. Once she¡¯s in, we want you to do something about it.¡± He leaned forward, speared a boiled egg on a fork. ¡°Unless you¡¯re a coward.¡±

    ¡°A coward? The Laundresses make up half of the city. You know they recruit anyone who looks like they throw a half-decent punch. It would be suicide!¡±

    ¡°That kind of lawlessness is exactly what helped that girl take charge,¡± replied the man. ¡°Get rid of them, or I¡¯m out. I¡¯m tired of living in this mess.¡±

    My mother¡¯s lips pressed together. ¡°When Elysia has secured her marriage,¡± she said, ¡°Who is to say what she might manage?¡±

    Secured my marriage. My marriage was in the spire? Had he become a¡­ priest or something, after I¡¯d left?

    That was a new low, even for me. A marriage so bad I sent a man to the temple. I ate a bun resentfully.

    As my mother argued, I saw the first failure out of the corner of my eye. A chair scraped on the floor, a man standing and leaving.

    ¡°Wait,¡± called my mother. ¡°We still have four courses!¡±

    ¡°I have another appointment,¡± he said.

    It was like he¡¯d uncorked a bottle. One by one, they trailed out, making empty excuses. When the seaweed soup finally came out, steaming, it was only us left to hold out our bowls. Duran, at the end of the table, was kicking at a table leg and slurping loudly.

    My mother was so demoralized she didn¡¯t even correct him.

    ¡°My husband¡¯s in the Spire?¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± she said, and put her spoon down. ¡°I¡¯ll find another solution.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯ll let me borrow the coach,¡± I said, ¡°I think we can work together on this. I want to break into the Spire, too.¡±

    This was actually a historical moment. Never in our lives had I offered to work together with my mother. Not without an ulterior motive. She actually stopped moving for a moment, before staring over at me.

    ¡°Elysia,¡± she said. ¡°Why did you come back to the Capital?¡±

    She didn¡¯t believe the Voice story either, then. I shrugged loosely. ¡°Would you believe me?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right, I wouldn¡¯t,¡± she said. She gestured for more wine. ¡°You can take the coach. Don¡¯t break it. I want you back by nightfall.¡±

 51. Good Clean Fun

    There was a pillar of smoke rising up from the Spire. I peered out the window, holding my cloak up to my face and trying not to cough.

    Duran was crammed in the seat across from me, pressing his face up against the side of the coach. Apis was half-asleep on my shoulder. I poked him awake.

    ¡°Did Prisca mention anything about a fire to you?¡±

    I had thought Amatus (unwise, but directionless) and Prisca (full of direction, but seemingly thoughtful) would do well enough left on their own this morning. I had other concerns on my mind.

    Now we drew close and could hear all of the chaos, I found myself reconsidering. The coach pulled to a stop, horses whinnying. The coachmen swung down and pulled the door open. ¡°Miss Ferrers,¡± he said, scratching at the back of his neck, ¡°They¡¯ve closed the street. I could try and take an alley, but¡­¡±

    We both looked at the coach. It was my mother¡¯s style exactly. Elaborate. Perfectly designed. Top of the line.

    Too wide to fit in an alley.

    I gave him my best false smile. Made sure to show all of my teeth. ¡°We can walk from here.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Duran, keep up,¡± I said. I snapped my fingers, making sure he followed me out.

    The smoke swallowed us up as we stepped out. The wind currents of the Capital were a weather phenomenon much observed and never understood. Now they made it so I had to pull fabric up over my mouth and try not to keel over. Behind me, Duran was coughing. I could hardly tell where road ended and building began.

    ¡°Everyone form a line,¡± I said. I grabbed onto Duran. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare go off on your own again.¡±

    I let my eyes drift to his sword again for a moment. An abyssal blade.

    Could Andrena really have been telling the truth?

    If so, had he¡­ no. He couldn¡¯t have hit someone with it, could he? I would have noticed.

    I shuddered and looked towards the street. Surely it would be fine.

    Behind my firm grasp on Duran¡¯s tunic, Apis was gripping his other arm. We made a strange chain as I wound through the street.

    The crowds were thick here. As many guards as there were citizens, looming up out of the smoke with blades already out. I gave them my best scowl, spoon out. Most stepped back with alarm.

    One held out a hand to stop me. ¡°Road¡¯s closed.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that got to do with me?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re on it.¡±

    ¡°Must not be closed then.¡±

    ¡°You- I just told you-¡±

    While he argued with himself, I shoved past. I saw him try to swipe at Apis, but Apis ducked, leaving the blade to swipe through a trail of smoke.

    ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡± Apis called, from behind Duran.

    ¡°Don¡¯t have one!¡±

    Whoever was in charge of this mess, they were inside of the Spire. That was all I knew. We had to get through this mess and up.

    I could see people clustering into little groups. A set of priests, wearing beetle masks and fighting off what looked like a set of guards with bags of incense. A man using three swords in a juggling motion. He wasn¡¯t fighting against anyone, as far as I could see. It looked more like a hobby.

    Someone was breaking the window of a nearby business as we walked by. He held up a jug of wine like he was offering it to me.

    ¡°Not today, thanks,¡± said Apis.

    ¡°Your loss!¡±

    ¡°Miss Elysia,¡± said Duran, who had to half-run to keep up with my quick steps, ¡°Can I use the sword now?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely not.¡± If that was an Abyssal blade, even a small cut could make someone¡¯s soul escape their body entirely. Put it in the hands of the gods.

    Although, given that I technically didn¡¯t have a soul¡­ was that really so bad?

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    ¡°Be ready to use it,¡± I said. ¡°But don¡¯t swing it around. I¡¯ve seen your technique.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t mind us!¡± called Apis. ¡°Just on a walk! Not affiliated with anyone! Wanted to tour the neighborhood!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve got to take a side!¡± The man trying to attack him was using a net in one hand and what looked like a harpoon in the other. I yanked Duran forward, forcing Apis to stumble at the end of the chain and duck below the sharp edge.

    ¡°What really matters is patience and kindness!¡±

    ¡°Patience and kindness can kiss my-¡±

    A guard hit the net-man over the head with a long piece of plank. I broke into a run.

    We only had half of a block left. I did my best to look like I was doing something important.

    As far as I could tell, the crowd had broken into roughly three segments. The third that cared about the law, guardsmen and some guild-affiliates. Those that thought the law could toss it- the laundresses and most of the priests. In between, and the largest group, were the people who viewed this as entertainment for the night. They were breaking windows, throwing firebombs, flinging swords, for one purpose only- pure joy.

    Yes. The capital hadn¡¯t changed at all.

    ¡°Miss Elysia,¡± said Duran. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we leave?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry! They¡¯ll get tired soon enough!¡± Apis was losing stamina, at the end of our line. ¡°Once they bring out the buckets!¡±

    He was right. Where was the fire brigade? It took a dedicated rioter to continue after being doused by harbor water. It wasn¡¯t the cold- it was actually pleasantly lukewarm most of the year. It was simply¡­ everything else. You couldn¡¯t continue rioting. You had to go home and do everything possible to get it off before you suffered long-term damage.

    A woman came forward, her laundress shirt stained with something dark. ¡°Death to grime!¡±

    I pushed her out of the way and tried not to watch as she slipped and fell. The shape of the Spire was visible again through the smoke, now. Just a little bit more. The chanting crowd was visible again.

    I had to give some credit to Prisca. Who else could have maintained this level of anger about Voice Marcia¡¯s death? Even now, I could make out some of the chants. Begging for justice. For honesty. For a fair trial.

    I stopped running as we came up into the crowd. Half of them weren¡¯t even chanting, just milling around and staring up at the smoke. The source was visible, now. They had set the festival grounds on fire. All of those temporary stalls- brought in with cheap, dry wood, created for a few brief days- they had gone up one by one.

    I stood still and watched for a moment. They were across the road, but I could still see the flames. Too close for comfort. Why were all of these people still so close? Were they mad?

    How could they have fallen so low? I had thought they¡¯d set a building on fire. Maybe city hall. Something understandable. But the festival? Those were businesses. Members of the community just trying to get by.

    I couldn¡¯t help but think of that massive bobbin of lace. Slowly forming. It would never be finished now.

    Behind me, Apis came around to stand next to me, hand still gripping Duran¡¯s collar.

    ¡°¡­I¡¯m sure they got out,¡± I said.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get to the Spire. No point in checking.¡±

    His hand was shaking. I could have asked if he was feeling well. If he needed help.

    I hadn¡¯t ever done feelings very well. I nodded and turned to push through the crowd. They parted easily in front of me. Many of them were turned to stare at the festival. Muttering about how quickly it was spreading- asking about the fire brigade. I was sure they were in there, somewhere, trying to push the spread back.

    Another laundress was in front of me; I pushed him aside, only for his eyes to widen. ¡°Elysia?¡±

    Oh. Him. I recognized his little glasses. ¡°¡­Egnatius.¡± I looked over my shoulder. ¡°I didn¡¯t think this was your type of event.¡±

    ¡°I was required by the guild,¡± he said. He dropped his voice. ¡°We have completely fallen apart. Is there any way you could ask Herself-¡±

    ¡°Why would I have an in with the postal goddess?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t say it so loudly!¡±

    ¡°Listen, if I speak to anyone down there, it¡¯s Andrena. And she certainly doesn¡¯t-¡±

    ¡°Forget I asked, then,¡± he said. ¡°I just don¡¯t like all of her requests. We aren¡¯t even supposed to be affiliated with any- you know.¡± He made a vague fluttering gesture with his hand.

    ¡°Gods?¡±

    ¡°Stop saying it!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re in the middle of a riot. I think people have noticed!¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s just asking for too many favors! I think we ought to push back! I certainly don¡¯t think it¡¯s fair for a- for a god to demand so much of people. I mean, Andrena¡¯s been fair to you, has she not?¡±

    I thought back to all two of my conversations with Andrena. Her self-centered perspective. Her lack of communication. Her demands. The way she still wouldn¡¯t give me magic.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure why the Laundresses are in so deep with Celeres,¡± I said, and patted him on the back, ¡°But good luck. I¡¯ve got other problems on my plate.¡±

    ¡°Please!¡± He called, but I was already walking.

    The crowd cleared away at the base of the tower. This wasn¡¯t because of some inherent respect for the marble of the Spire. It was because they had hired private armed guards, and they had very nice, large, swords.

    I eyed one as we approached. It had a longer reach than the abyssal blade. He could probably use it, too.

    So force was out of the question. I scanned the rest of the tower. No windows until three floors up. Smooth, unclimbable stone. One front door.

    I squinted. Another door, at the back. Three guards posted at that one too. A service entrance?

    A girl was arguing with one guard at the entrance, hands on her hips. He¡¯d taken his helmet off to better run a hand over his face.

    ¡°I¡¯ve already told you,¡± he said, ¡°I can¡¯t let people in! That¡¯s what closed for contemplation means. It¡¯s not open for the next person!¡±

    The Voice of Celeres folded her arms. ¡°And I¡¯ve already told you, I¡¯m expected! I¡¯m not just a normal person. I¡¯m a voice!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, and I¡¯m the last King of the country,¡± he said, putting his voice up to a false high pitch. ¡°What are you going to be next, the Voice of the Beetle? Go home. Better yet, go break a few windows. Riot¡¯s still on.¡±

    ¡°You- you-¡±

    I stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. ¡°She¡¯s overcome. We¡¯ll see to her.¡±

    The voice spun and met my eyes. ¡°Ely-¡±

    ¡°So nice to see you again,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s speak about this over a drink. Yes?¡±

    She glanced between me and the guards. I leaned in to speak against her ear. ¡°I¡¯m working on a plan. They aren¡¯t going to let us in. Are you in, or are you going to try and duel them?¡±

    I remembered being sixteen very well. The urge to prove myself. The anger with everyone and everything.

    The difficulty admitting I had been wrong.

    The Voice of Celeres inhaled, then exhaled slowly. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± she said. ¡°Let¡¯s go get a drink.¡±

 52. Flatbread for Luck

    ¡°We¡¯re closed.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t hard to find Prisca in the churning mass of the protest. I had found the loudest corner and waded in, grabbing at moving limbs until I¡¯d found someone short enough and angry enough to be her. Now she was next to me, peering into the pub.

    Amatus had come along with her. For someone his age, he was surprisingly spry. I hadn¡¯t even really looked for him. He¡¯d just popped out of a corner, axes swinging.

    I was a little afraid of him, to be honest. He didn¡¯t seem to mind exactly who those axes were aimed at.

    ¡°Look,¡± I said. ¡°We won¡¯t be a bother. In fact, Amatus will defend your noble establishment.¡±

    Amatus hawked a ball of spit onto the cobbles below. ¡°Upon my honor.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll defend it too!¡± Said Duran.

    Apis was tucked close against me, staring down the street. ¡°The guards have formed a sort of phalanx out of their shields,¡± he said. ¡°They¡¯re getting closer by the minute. Ooh! I don¡¯t know when they got spears, but they look sharp. Is this what my taxes are going to?¡±

    ¡°Are you really going to submit some innocent citizens to the guards?¡±

    ¡°Innocent, my left toe,¡± said the woman, but she pulled the door open.

    There were different pubs scattered all across the city, small to large, upper-end to dingy enough that you really shouldn¡¯t eat anything inside. This one was rather classy, with enough candles to keep it well-lit and a beautiful tapestry of the King being pulled off of the throne behind the bar. Someone had added a glass shard to each tear streaming down his face. It shimmered in the fire reflected through the windows.

    ¡°Whole city¡¯s going mad,¡± said the barkeep, shutting the door firmly behind her. ¡°Don¡¯t tell anyone I let you in! They¡¯re going to loot this place next.¡±

    ¡°They won¡¯t,¡± said Apis. He strode confidently towards a center table, sitting down and smiling towards her. ¡°They know you¡¯ve got the best drink here and they don¡¯t want to be kicked out. Do you still have that red?¡±

    ¡°Festival¡¯s on fire, and you want to know about the red!¡± She folded her arms, then relented. ¡°Well, maybe I do. But you¡¯re paying double. On account of the fires.¡±

    I looked towards Apis. Did he still have money? I certainly didn¡¯t.

    Prisca sat down, then slapped a pile of coins on the table. ¡°It¡¯s on me. If you can get us into the Spire.¡±

    The Voice of Celeres had said nothing. She was still standing by the door, stiff as a board.

    ¡°Come in, then,¡± I said. ¡°We have to scheme. It doesn¡¯t work if we aren¡¯t all talking.¡±

    ¡°You aren¡¯t taking this seriously!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a cook. Forgive me if I¡¯m not completely sure of the etiquette for planning a heist,¡± I said.

    I held out a hand for a cup of wine. It went down smooth. Apis had excellent taste in drink. After the first few swallows, the Voice of Celeres finally came over to sit down.

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    When I looked across the table, assessing our group, it wasn¡¯t reassuring. Amatus; strong in his youth, but old now. Definitely crazy. Prisca. She had the power of a group behind her, but whatever she¡¯d said before, they were running rampant now. She was just one pebble in a landslide. The Voice of Celeres was a self-centered teenager with the ability to send messages and a distinctive haircut, not much more. Apis had a positive attitude and no spine.

    Duran was Duran.

    That left me to steer us. I winced. Well, there was a first time for everything. ¡°Right.¡± I put my hand on the table. ¡°I have a way to get us in. But it¡¯s going to need everyone¡¯s help.¡±

    After my speech, Amatus leaned back. ¡°It¡¯s a damn strange plan,¡± he said. ¡°You sure we can¡¯t just use a trebuchet?¡±

    ¡°Trebuchet is our secondary plan,¡± I said. ¡°If I¡¯m right, the timing should be very tight.¡±

    The barkeep leaned over. She had been listening to the entire plan, helping us finish the wine. It wasn¡¯t as if there were any other customers. ¡°You lot are completely mad. Like, up a tree. Barkers.¡±

    ¡°So you won¡¯t let us use your kitchen?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t say that. Just don¡¯t tell anyone who you got the space from.¡±

    I held up my cup in a toast. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    As I stood up from the table, pushing my table back, I nodded to my compatriots. This might be the last time I saw them before we knew if our plan had worked or not. ¡°Best of luck.¡±

    Prisca and Amatus filed out the door with Apis. The Voice of Celeres gave me one last look. ¡°I¡¯m depending on you,¡± she said.

    ¡°Trust me,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t know much, but I do know food.¡±

    ¡°I never said it properly before. Thank you,¡± she said. She glanced away, shifted from one foot to the other. ¡°For, ah. For saving my letterboys.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome. Now stop hesitating and go help.¡±

    That brought the first smile I¡¯d seen from her. She grinned, briefly, and pushed the door open. ¡°Thanks. Best of luck to you, too.¡±

    When I stood to walk back to the kitchen, Duran was blushing. I sighed. ¡°Focus! You¡¯re going to actually learn something today.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Miss Elysia,¡± he said. He still stared at the doorway for a moment more, hand on his sword, before he followed me back.

    The pub¡¯s kitchen was, like the rest of the space, very nice. It made me jealous just to look at the shining fixtures, the lit bellied stove. I held my hand over it to feel the heat.

    We would have to make something quick. We only had an hour or so before it would be time. I leaned into the pantry. They even had an icebox. Unimaginable luxury. The ice would have been brought down on a barge, all the way from the far north.

    I thought again of the red wine we¡¯d just finished. In a place like this- how expensive had that bottle been? How had Apis known to order it?

    Inside lay a plucked chicken. Ready for nightly service. I smiled. ¡°Duran,¡± I said. ¡°Tonight, we are going to bring only the best.¡±

    Roast quartered chicken. Lemon slices, underneath the skin. Rosemary was growing on the sill. I plucked some, rubbed it in between my fingers to release some of the scent.

    Smell was important. I wandered through the kitchen as Duran fought with a knife to quarter the chicken. There was a little too much snapping and cracking happening. I ignored the sounds. As long as he didn¡¯t hurt himself, it would be fine. We could cover it with a tea towel.

    Ah, yes. In a nice dark cupboard. Jars of pickles. I squinted, tried to find a nice set. Olives; well-pickled. I pulled out some flour, began to form a flatbread dough. There was a jar of nice oil in the corner.

    Duran peered over my shoulder. ¡°We¡¯re making bread?¡±

    I nearly jumped out of my skin. ¡°Personal space!¡± I pointed an accusing finger at him. ¡°Go wash your hands off if you¡¯re going to help.¡±

    The stove was a lovely beast. I didn¡¯t often wish for luxury. My mother¡¯s coach, the lace clothing I still wore. None of it mattered to me.

    The gleaming brass in front of me, with half a griddle and the other half flame? Oh, yes. I would have given my left leg to have that.

    The first flatbread went down with a nice hiss. Duran and I both watched in reverent silence as it bubbled. Only when the top was matte did I flip it, watching for the perfect browning on the underside. Out of the kindness of my heart, as a learning experience, I allowed him to sprinkle it with salt.

    ¡°We need to test it?¡± he said, as soon as it came off the griddle.

    I glanced towards the bowl of dough. The chicken was still baking. It would take most of our time to wait for it. The other parts of the meal- a sauce I was going to concoct with oil, vinegar and pickled peppers, and some carved fruit (an excellent way to show Duran exactly why the biggest knife wasn¡¯t always the best) were going to be quick.

    We deserved a little break. I ripped the bread in half and offered him a piece.

    ¡°For luck.¡±

    ¡°For luck,¡± he said, and took a too-big bite. ¡°Agh!¡±

    As he half-opened his mouth, trying to let out the steam, I stifled a laugh. It might all turn out fine, after all.

 53. [Sidequest] Wind Direction

    The Spire was closed for contemplation. Everyone knew that.

    Of course, even contemplation required fuel. Lucilla pulled her hood up higher as she strode through the streets, clutching her basket tighter to her chest. As time had gone on, and the riots had gotten worse, their restaurant had been forced to move from hot prepared meals to cold ones. It made her feel ashamed of her good name. She had built this business from the ground up. From the very start, her family recipes had brought joy to people¡¯s faces. The freshest ingredients. Filling people¡¯s bellies, from the lowest dock worker to the very Voices that ran the city. To feed them cold bread and meat?

    Still. They were still fed, and Lucilla was the one to do it. Surely that had to be enough. Behind her, her hired guard- Tullius, although he refused to let her use his familiar name- stepped closer. ¡°You should have allowed us to hire a coach,¡± he said. ¡°This is madness.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t make the money to use a coach! What do you think I¡¯m made of, gold?¡± She hissed back. ¡°No one cares about me! I¡¯m just the bread girl!¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t care about you, but this city is falling apart!¡± He turned and hit someone soundly over the head. She closed her eyes as they thumped to the ground.

    ¡°I wish you wouldn¡¯t do that,¡± she said. ¡°What if you spoke to them. Told them we were on their side!¡±

    ¡°Which side is that? They¡¯re just here to destroy things!¡±

    Admittedly, he was right. There was a significant portion of the Capital that viewed rioting as part of the natural cycle of life. Lucilla sighed. ¡°All they want to know is that you aren¡¯t going to hurt them. Which isn¡¯t going to make a difference if you keep actually hurting people!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the one that hired me.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re just supposed to keep the food from being damaged!¡± Lucilla held the basket up to her chest and turned away, sniffing. ¡°I think you were a waste of money, anyway. It¡¯s not as if anyone¡¯s ever tried to attack me.¡±

    She¡¯d only hired a guard because her mother had started to panic after all of that nastiness around Andrena¡¯s temple. She lived near the Temple of Cabellus, and it was a rather long walk all the way to the Spire. Still, Lucilla knew her mother didn¡¯t really understand. Even when people were rioting, they didn¡¯t want to hurt each other. They wanted to break a few windows, clash swords with the guards. Attack the bread girl? As if.

    ¡°Anyway,¡± she said, ¡°The last payment will be done tomorrow, so you can consider yourself finished today. You can take that last day as a bonus. Since you¡¯ve done nothing.¡±

    Tullius didn¡¯t respond. Sulking, of course. She kept her head high, eyes watering in the smoke. Awful, all of it. What was on fire now? They had been lighting effigies of the lawmen on fire for days now, but it usually didn¡¯t generate this much smoke. Someone ought to call the fire brigade.

    She stomped further. Someone lunged forward, grabbed for the bread. Lucilla stepped back, nearly tripping. She turned. ¡°Well!¡± She said. ¡°I know I said I¡¯m not hiring you for today, but-¡±

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    She frowned. ¡°Tullius?¡±

    Behind her, where Tullius should have been standing, there was only a crumpled body. She froze. ¡°¡­.Tullius?¡±

    ¡°Tullius is taking a nice long nap,¡± said an old man. He held up an axe. It was shining. ¡°Now, put the basket down and come with us. You¡¯re going to get a break today.¡±

    Lucilla looked over her shoulder. A woman smiled at her. She was short. But her eyes were full of vigor. She held up a sword. ¡°No running,¡± she said. ¡°Don¡¯t you know that¡¯s rude?¡±

    They led Lucilla to an alleyway just beyond the spire. Lucilla curled up, cradling her basket, as they held up her cloak and inspected it, conversing in low tones about whether it would fit.

    ¡°It won¡¯t fit either of you,¡± she said, spiteful. ¡°It¡¯s too big for the woman and it¡¯s too short for you, old man.¡±

    ¡°My name¡¯s Amatus,¡± said the man. He spit on the ground.

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell people your name! We¡¯re committing crimes!¡±

    ¡°Could be a fake name.¡±

    ¡°Obviously it¡¯s not,¡± said Lucilla. ¡°She¡¯s just gotten angry about it.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, Prisca,¡± said Amatus. ¡°Your fault.¡±

    ¡°Ugh, you¡¯ve just done it again!¡±

    ¡°Well, consider me sorry. Not much secrecy when I did pirating. Either we killed people or we didn¡¯t.¡±

    Lucilla shrank back and stared down the alleyway. Could she run for it?

    A shape moved through the smoke. Her heart jumped. Could it be?

    ¡°How long¡¯s she going to keep us waiting?¡± said Amatus. ¡°It¡¯s only some food.¡±

    ¡°This is what we get for relying on an unknown. I still think we ought to have used the trebuchet.¡±

    ¡°A woman after my own heart. Why¡¯d you have to start that festival fire, though?¡±

    ¡°That was an accident! How many times do I have to say it? Are we meant to control the wind?¡±

    The shape moved again. It was waving. Lucilla pushed herself up on an elbow, putting her basket down slowly. Tullius.

    She glanced towards her captors. They were arguing more, now.

    ¡°Basic planning!¡± Said Amatus. ¡°You¡¯re starting fires, pay attention to the wind direction! You¡¯re a leader! You should have led! In my day, you never would have gotten away with that basic of a mistake!¡± He shook his head. ¡°Shame, too. I liked that festival. The meat sticks were delicious.¡±

    ¡°The wind changed! When we started the burn, it wasn¡¯t- oh, how am I meant to expect you to understand! You never even led! Marcia told me the truth, you know. You weren¡¯t ever a captain. You weren¡¯t even a fighter. You were the surgeon!¡±

    ¡°That shows how little you know about pirating.¡±

    Lucilla stood up slowly as Amatus spat on the ground again, her cloak flapping in his outstretched hands. ¡°Surgeon¡¯s the most important job, girlie,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m the one that decided how many limbs everyone got to keep. When they started losing teeth, I was the one that used the pliers. That¡¯s more than being captain. That¡¯s being judge, jury, and executioner.¡±

    ¡°So you admit you didn¡¯t pay attention to wind direction!¡±

    ¡°On a ship, everyone watches the sails!¡±

    Yes. They were completely distracted. Lucilla gave one last glance to her basket, full of perfectly prepared bread and sliced ham, and took a deep breath. Then she started sprinting.

    She was halfway down the alley when she started hearing shouts. Then she was in reach of Tullius. He had blood streaked down his face, an arm outstretched. He grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her into the mass of the riot.

    ¡°Head down!¡± He said. ¡°Don¡¯t let them see where we¡¯re going!¡±

    ¡°I thought you were dead!¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t even knocked out! I was just pretending!¡±

    It was dreadfully loud. She could feel the heat radiating off of the festival grounds, burning slowly to ash. People were jostling them in every direction. They were well lost in the crowd before she finally managed to figure out her next question.

    ¡°Why do you think they attacked me?¡±

    Tullius scratched at the dried blood on his cheek. ¡°I told you,¡± he said. ¡°Everyone here just wants to see the city burn.¡±

    Lucilla frowned over the crowd. It didn¡¯t feel right. The strength of the attack, the level of planning. She didn¡¯t know why they had chosen her, but she didn¡¯t think it was random.

    They had a goal in mind.

    She just hoped she would get her basket back.

 54. Mother Knows Best

    I adjusted the cloak, pulling it up over my face. The smell of the chicken wafted up from the basket. The fresh rosemary, the lemon. It mixed with the warmth of the fresh flatbread. Duran chewed on the ham and bread we¡¯d taken from the pile already in the basket.

    ¡°We couldn¡¯t have used the food she already had?¡±

    His voice was muffled from the bread he was chewing. I sighed. The smell of smoke was mixing with the meal I¡¯d concocted, creating a noxious flavor. ¡°We¡¯re trying to cheat our way in. If they¡¯re distracted by the food, they might ignore you. Not to mention¡­¡±

    ¡°Not to mention what?¡± he swallowed.

    I held out a hand. ¡°Wait. We have to be quiet. Act natural.¡±

    For Duran, that was a big ask. I should have told him to act professional instead, but I wasn¡¯t entirely sure he knew what that concept was. He stiffened, following in my footsteps as we approached the Spire.

    We didn¡¯t go to the front door this time, the wide, elaborately carved pair of doors. Instead, we stepped towards the back entrance. Barely tall enough for me. Two guards stood next to the doors, shoulders straight. They both held a pike in one hand, the other resting on the swords in their holsters.

    I held out the basket. If I had owned any tranquilizing herbs, or other substances, I would have used them. I didn¡¯t. All I had was some well-roasted chicken.

    ¡°You¡¯ve worked so hard,¡± I said. ¡°Would you like something to eat?¡±

    One shook his head. The other coughed. ¡°Well,¡± he said. His voice echoed. ¡°I suppose I could try.¡±

    I glanced over my shoulder, pretending to hesitate. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if the others would approve. Would you come with me to that alley? I think you¡¯d still be able to see the door from there, and we could use napkins there. Even sit down.¡±

    It was a pathetic trick. They never should have fallen for it.

    I wafted the smell towards them. Andrena, a little help here? Anything at all? This is for you.

    One of the guards, the one that had rejected it, sighed. ¡°Go and have a snack. I¡¯ll watch. But you owe me.¡±

    I smiled in relief. ¡°Come on, then.¡±

    The alley was shaded by laundry fluttering in the breeze. The boy took his helmet off. He was in his early twenties, trying to grow a beard and failing. I handed him an olive on flatbread, with a little chickpea-paste. ¡°Here,¡± I said. ¡°For your hard work.¡±

    ¡°Wait a minute,¡± he said, bread half to his mouth. ¡°You aren¡¯t Lucilla-¡±

    The axe-blade was to his throat before he could say anything else. It was, I reflected, a little too easy to convince him to take off his armor.

    ¡°It¡¯s too tight,¡± complained the Voice of Celeres, scratching at the plates. I rolled my eyes. ¡°Well, it¡¯s this or you wear the cloak.¡±

    She pushed the visor up and stared at the cloak. It would be entirely too long on her. ¡°Fine.¡±

    When we approached the tower, the other guard was speaking with a supervisor, hands on his pike. ¡°He just went to check the perimeter!¡± He said. ¡°It¡¯s not- look, there he is now.¡±

    The supervisor was obviously in charge, due to a bright-colored feather on his helmet. The entire assembly turned to look at me, metal scraping. I pulled the cloak further over my helmet.

    The Voice of Celeres held up a hand to wave in greeting.

    ¡°Fine,¡± said the supervisor. ¡°You went on a perimeter check. This is the last time, you hear me? We need this place locked up tight. Just because you¡¯re on the back door doesn¡¯t mean no one¡¯s going to try and break in.¡±

    The guard shifted. ¡°I know! I know. Just give me a break, here.¡±

    ¡°There are no breaks! When this city crumbles apart, the spire is what stands.¡±

    As the man stalked away, the other guard mocked him under his breath. ¡°The spire is what stands. As if we¡¯re not trying.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re so right,¡± I said. ¡°You know, I do have a little bread left.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± said the other guard. ¡°You heard iron-ass over there.¡±

    We both glanced over. Sure enough, the head of the guards was still in-range. Unfortunately for the other guard, he wasn¡¯t looking towards us.

    I slipped my hand into my basket. I¡¯d put something else in there, with all of the meat and bread.

    I stepped closer. ¡°You¡¯re sure? I baked it fresh this morning?¡±

    Through the visor, the guard¡¯s reply was tinny. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure. This is a big job, you know.¡±

    The little knife slipped right into the joint between helmet and plate mail. ¡°Why don¡¯t you reconsider,¡± I said. ¡°There¡¯s a nice alley right down the way. We¡¯ll have that mail off of you in no time. You¡¯ll get a nice long break, and no one yelling at you.¡±

    The guard froze. I smiled.

    ¡°You won¡¯t use that.¡±

    ¡°Will I?¡±

    I hadn¡¯t used a blade on a person before. Ever. But I did deconstruct a lot of meat, cooking. It was all the same principle, wasn¡¯t it?

    The pike lowered. ¡°I¡¯ll run.¡±

    ¡°My friend¡¯s pike will make sure you won¡¯t. We¡¯ll go on a nice perimeter walk together.¡±

    When we came back to the tower, it was with two guards. one was a little too short. The other was scratching at his helmet. It was on a little lopsided. He reached up, gauntlets squeaking, and pushed his visor up.

    ¡°This itches,¡± he said. ¡°And I¡¯m fairly sure I¡¯m working against some tenent of Andrena.¡±

    ¡°If she didn¡¯t specifically say not to, it¡¯s fair game,¡± I said. ¡°She told me so, when I visited the realm of the gods.¡±

    He squinted at me. I gave him another smile and let my hands tighten over the handle of the knife where I¡¯d re-concealed it in the basket. Behind me, Duran tried to peer into the Spire. ¡°Do you think they really keep a bunch of gods made flesh in there?¡± He said.

    The Voice of Celeres pushed open the door, letting me in. She glanced out one last time at the chaos beyond, where Amatus and Prisca were stoking the riot ever-higher- distracting the rest of the guards, if we were lucky- before she let it clang shut behind us.

    As soon as the door shut behind us, Apis took the helmet off entirely. ¡°That is entirely too heavy,¡± he said. ¡°No wonder we could overpower them! Can¡¯t see a thing.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going to ruin our cover.¡± The Voice of Celeres sounded very tinny. ¡°Keep it on.¡±

    ¡°I agree,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯ll guide you.¡±

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Apis looked sulky, but he finally nodded and put it back on.

    There was no one in the lower chamber of the Spire. We had come in a back entrance, clearly meant for servants. Only a single candle was lit, leaving us in a pale silence. Even this, however, was nicer than I was used to. I stared at the tiled floor. They were in the shape of beetles.

    ¡°Right,¡± I said. It felt a little sacrilegious to be stepping on them. ¡°Let¡¯s¡­ climb.¡±

    There was only way in. Up.

    We took the first set of stairs at a near-run, Apis and the Voice of Celeres clanking as I held out the basket of food like a barrier. The second set of stairs, lungs burning, I took at a respectable trot. By the third flight, I was barely moving. The tower was starting to open up, now; the stairs were no longer confined to their own spiral, but let out into a hallway, showing a set of doors and a single window. The light filtered in, pale and gray through the smoke.

    We heard voices around the corner. I pressed myself to a wall, trying not to breathe too loudly.

    ¡°¡­Heard about any progress?¡±

    ¡°Gods only know,¡± said the other voice. A young man, speaking to a young woman. ¡°I¡¯m just the help.¡±

    ¡°But surely you can tell me something. I¡¯m here to represent Andrena.¡±

    ¡°If they wanted you to know, they¡¯d bring you into the meeting.¡±

    ¡°They brought me into the Spire!¡±

    ¡°Maybe if you finish this accounting,¡± said the male voice.

    There was a loud thump.

    ¡°Hey! Don¡¯t throw it at me. I¡¯m not the one giving you the job.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not doing it. Let me out if you¡¯re not going to ask me for help.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not the way it works! The Spire is closed. You think I don¡¯t want to speak to my mum?¡±

    ¡°This is- this is stupid. All of you are stupid, and I¡¯ve been lied to. I think I¡¯m a prisoner here.¡±

    ¡°¡­I¡¯m going to go get you some mead,¡± said the male voice. He coughed. ¡°Er, don¡¯t go anywhere. Not that you can! Ha, ha. Not that you¡¯re a prisoner! You¡¯re just, ah. You can¡¯t leave. I¡¯m going to go get that mead now.¡±

    As the door creaked open, I realized it was too late to run. I held out the basket of food instead, trying to keep my head down.

    ¡°Oh, Lucilla,¡± said the boy. He was freckled, a little young. Maybe in his mid-twenties. ¡°Pardon me! I¡¯m just- I¡¯m not actually getting mead for her, obviously. That wouldn¡¯t be allowed! I¡¯m just, ha ha. You know. Being friendly. Do you mind?¡±

    I was blocking the stairs. As one, we all stepped aside. I watched him take the stairs two at a time, heading up. I frowned.

    Apis leaned in. ¡°He didn¡¯t even comment on the guards.¡±

    ¡°Maybe she¡¯s always accompanied by guards,¡± I said.

    Down the hall, the woman¡¯s voice rose. ¡°Help! Is there someone there? Help me!¡±

    There was a loud thumping. I exchanged a glance with Apis- well, I thought I did. I might have just been staring at a metal visor. ¡°I- we might as well,¡± I said.

    ¡°While we¡¯re here,¡± he replied.

    ¡°It¡¯s the heroic thing to do!¡± Duran had sneaked another piece of flatbread while we were waiting. I slapped his hand away.

    The door was locked. I jiggled the handle once, twice, and then sighed and put my ear to the wood. ¡°Who¡¯s in there?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Candida! They¡¯ve lied to me, trapped me in here. Lucilla? Are you well? You don¡¯t sound the same.¡±

    I cleared my throat. ¡°It¡¯s, ah, the smoke-¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not Lucilla!¡± Said Apis. ¡°It¡¯s Apis and Elysia. We¡¯ve come to rescue you!¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    She sounded unflatteringly surprised. I thought of Candida¡¯s face as she¡¯d met us in the boardinghouse. How she¡¯d wanted to stay uninvolved, do work for Andrena. Was that how she¡¯d been tricked into coming to the Spire?

    ¡°What did they do to you? How did they get you here?¡±

    ¡°I think they heard I was going to testify about witnessing the murder of Voice Marcia to the public,¡± her voice filtered through. ¡°They told me I could represent the temple for the Flight, since we don¡¯t have a Voice at the moment. But all they did was put me in this room and give me paperwork. They won¡¯t let me leave! Said it was for my safety.¡±

    ¡°Hmmm.¡± I stepped back and contemplated our options. I didn¡¯t really know how to let her out. It was a beautiful piece of architecture; a thick door, a solid handle.

    The Voice of Celeres ushered me out of the way. ¡°I¡¯ll handle it,¡± she said.

    ¡°What?¡±

    She was already pulling a set of tools out of her pocket. ¡°I do have some abilities,¡± she said. ¡°We aren¡¯t all useless.¡±

    I was left to defend the food from Duran while she muttered to herself, shoving the visor out of her way and clicking through the tools in her little leather case.

    Finally, the door swung open. Beyond, Candida stood. She looked well, to be fair. It seemed that imprisonment in the Spire was much more comfortable than any of the places I had been imprisoned lately- mostly, a quarantine ship and my mother¡¯s house.

    I strode over and lifted up one of the papers. ¡°They have you evaluating tax records?¡±

    ¡°Apparently they think the guilds are sliding around, faking things, claiming accounts that don¡¯t exist and listing losses to get tax benefits they shouldn¡¯t.¡± she said. ¡°No one wants to do this evaluation! I don¡¯t know why I¡¯ve been sent to fix the problem. I¡¯m hardly qualified.¡±

    There were too many numbers. It made my head swim. I set down the paper. ¡°Well, congratulations. You¡¯ve been freed. There¡¯s only one price.¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°You have to testify. Come with me.¡±

    She glanced between us. ¡°Somehow,¡± she said, ¡°I feel like your goals and mine might not¡­ entirely be the same.¡±

    ¡°All I want is to find who killed Voice Marcia, and give them what they deserve,¡± I said. ¡°Yes?¡±

    She frowned. Her eyes darted to the swords in the room. ¡°You won¡¯t kill them?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t make a habit of it.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not a no.¡±

    ¡°Look at me.¡± I held out my arms. ¡°Do you think I¡¯m the type to swing a sword about recklessly?¡±

    Candida turned to Apis. ¡°Promise me.¡±

    ¡°I promise,¡± he said, solemn. ¡°I won¡¯t kill anyone.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ll come with you.¡±

    We took the steps two at a time, my energy refreshed from breaking Candida out. I could feel the clues adding up. The gloves sat in my pocket, transferred from clothing to clothing. I had a witness to the crime. The letters were in my pocket, too, with the book to translate them. All that was left was to confront the truth.

    Lady Sylvia hadn¡¯t worked alone. Someone had impersonated a letterboy to set the Temple of Andrena on fire. Someone wanted the chaos that now ruled the city below. Had it all been an attempt to lock the Voice of Celeres out of the tower? Was it a personal move against Voice Marcia? Were they trying to take down the Spire from the inside, or were they just trying to gain power at the expense of everyone else?

    Most importantly¡­. why did my mother want me to be here?

    A guard clattered by, taking the steps quickly with a hand on his sword. There was nowhere to go- we were trapped as he descended, stepping towards a window. We all froze as he stopped, staring at me. I was directly in front of him. I nudged Duran to step closer behind me, tucked next to Candida. Lower on the stairs were Apis and Celeres, both staring up at us as we faced off.

    ¡°You aren¡¯t Lucilla.¡±

    Why was there a guard on the upper stairs of the tower? I turned, obscuring my face.

    ¡°She was ill.¡±

    ¡°Why has the prisoner been released?¡±

    ¡°She finished her work,¡± I said.

    He stared between us. I swallowed.

    ¡°Who are you,¡± he said, raising a hand. He wasn¡¯t pointing at Apis. He was pointing at Celeres.

    ¡°That guard is ill,¡± I said, quickly. ¡°Has trouble speaking.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know any ill guards,¡± he said. He reached for his sword. ¡°And Lucilla never brings an assistant. Just that strange guard of hers. Name starts with a T, or something.¡±

    ¡°Care for a bread?¡±

    I held out the basket. He hesitated.

    The Voice of Celeres and Apis both moved at the same time. Apis pulled out his spear first.

    It wasn¡¯t much. Just a swipe at the guard¡¯s ankles. There was a great echoing clang. I pressed myself against the wall, crushing Duran behind me. He squeaked in protest. Candida yelled in shock.

    The guard fell, head over heels, down the stairwell.

    We watched him tumble. I inhaled in shock.

    ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t approve of violence.¡±

    ¡°This is for Andrena. Just like you said.¡± said Apis. He put his spear back down.

    ¡°There might be another guard,¡± I said. I let my hands release on the knife within my basket. As I stepped forward, I heard Duran put the Abyssal blade back in the sheath. I let myself shiver. Thankfully, no one had seen fit to use that. ¡°Let¡¯s keep moving.¡±

    The top of the stairwell was unremarkable. A large door, made of plain wood. No carvings, no nameplate. Just the end. The top of a tall tower, in the center of the largest city in the country. No handle on the outside, either.

    There were no guards. I wondered if there had only been one, or if his partner had taken another way out. I couldn¡¯t see another path.

    I knocked twice. I could hear chattering inside. A man peered out after what felt like hours of muttering within.

    Older, with dark whiskers and an ugly fur hat that looked like it might come to life on his head. Old enough to have lived through the collapse of the empire and then some. The Voice of Ursus. The bear god. ¡°Don¡¯t need the food yet,¡± he said. ¡°Go away.¡±

    He moved to close the door. I inserted my foot. It failed to close on my boot. ¡°You¡¯ll want this meal,¡± I said. ¡°Rosemary roast chicken. Lemon slices.¡±

    He paused. I could see the moment when it began to work on him. His stomach growled. ¡°Well,¡± he said.

    ¡°We¡¯re busy in here! Can¡¯t you wait?¡± The other voices were muffled, but their protests were easy to pick out from the fray.

    ¡°Just a moment of our time,¡± said the Voice of Ursus. ¡°And it does smell good.¡± He scratched at his chin. ¡°Well, it can hardly hurt.¡± He stepped back, ignoring the protests within.

    I eeled my way in, followed by my entourage in a clanking, muttering mass. The Voice of Ursus was helpless to stop us, old and weak as he was. I strode towards the main table. It was shaped in a semi-circle, chairs arrayed around a central throne-structure. The Voice of the Beetle sat in the center, underneath a great window that showed the chaos below. His eyes were down on the papers before him.

    ¡°I¡¯ve told you before,¡± he said, lifting up another piece of paper. ¡°We don¡¯t have time for all of this bother over food. We could have some oats brought in and just live on porridge.¡±

    ¡°You run the greatest temple in the world, and you want us to live on porridge?¡± the Voice of Ursus complained as he reached towards the basket.

    ¡°Frugality is a virtue,¡± said my husband.

    ¡°So is attentiveness,¡± I said. I slammed the basket down in front of him. ¡°Hello, dear.¡±

    So. This was why my mother had been so anxious. The Voice of the Beetle- formerly the Baron Vindex, currently my husband, and the reason I didn¡¯t have a soul- looked up.

    He frowned, ever-faintly. ¡°Ah,¡± he said. ¡°Good afternoon. I¡¯m rather busy at the moment. Please speak to my secretary to arrange an appointment.¡±

 55. [Sidequest] Unpredictable

    The great squid rose above, tentacles twisting.

    Servius had a cramping calf. He reached back to try and massage it out. His mother reached over mid-stretch and slapped his hand away.

    ¡°Look,¡± she gritted out, ¡°noble.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no one else in here except us and Mrs. Ferrers.¡± He wasn¡¯t whining. He was stating his opinion in a¡­. complaining... tone. Servius leaned forward, trying to stretch the cramp out of his calf. He hated this temple. It was so boring. So echoey. There weren¡¯t even any good snacks. There was a big festival going on, right across the river, and every kid in the world got to go to it. Except for him! Sometimes the world was completely unfair.

    ¡°We¡¯re having an important discussion, Servius. Be a good boy and pray.¡±

    Servius sniffed and leaned back down, staring at the tentacles again. He missed having adventures already. Even if they were stinky, and had weird food, and too many knives, he could scratch himself when he wanted and run instead of walk.

    He glanced over. His mother was leaning in to talk to Mrs. Ferrers again. She looked distracted.

    ¡°What do you mean, she¡¯s not here? I¡¯d like to speak about our time in school. Reminisce. I barely saw her at your little get-together.¡±

    ¡°She keeps her own confidence,¡± said Mrs. Ferrers. ¡°Gods below know I could never keep her in check. At least your boy stays at home.¡±

    ¡°¡­yes,¡± said his mother. ¡°Servius is just so¡­ obedient.¡± She glanced over at Servius. He pulled his hand back from where he was going to scratch the back of his neck. ¡°Just like his father,¡± she finished.

    ¡°You¡¯re thinking of sending him to school?¡±

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t. He¡¯s just so darling.¡± Servius frowned at the floor. ¡°Besides, I want to supervise his education myself.¡±

    ¡°Of course. Who knows what they teach at those schools? Sometimes I wonder if that¡¯s where Elysia got it all...¡±

    ¡°You know,¡± said his mother. ¡°I heard your coach isn¡¯t in the stables.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Well, sometimes these things happen. Perhaps it¡¯s out for service. I don¡¯t pay attention to the calendar like that.¡±

    ¡°We use the same coach carpenter. He¡¯s busy today. With mine. I was going to ask to borrow yours, as it happens.¡±

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Servius turned his neck, ever-so-slightly. Mrs. Ferrers had turned away, looking up towards the statue of Teuthida. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s any of your business what Elysia and I agree to,¡± she said. ¡°Some things are family business.¡±

    ¡°So you agree it¡¯s to your mutual benefit.¡±

    ¡°I offered to work with you. You rejected me!¡±

    ¡°I rejected the offer for this exact reason, Valeria. You always go forward with these bold, poorly-considered plans. I suppose you invited her to the city and decided you would just throw her at the Spire as soon as you could manage it.¡±

    ¡°Elysia is clever enough to find a way in. Soon you¡¯ll regret everything you said to me.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll see about that. The Baron is hardly a warm and loving man in the best of cases.¡±

    They were going to the Spire? Servius was stuck here, with his mother, while Duran was breaking and entering? He clenched his fists on the marble. Some people had all the luck.

    ¡°It¡¯s not about warmth. The Baron understands a good deal when it''s offered to him.¡±

    ¡°I suppose we¡¯ll see,¡± said his mother. She stood. ¡°Thank you for telling me.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going to go and try to stop her?¡±

    His mother laughed. ¡°What? No. She¡¯ll stop herself well enough. I¡¯m going to go sit on my balcony, enjoy a nice drink, and wait to watch the Beetle¡¯s flight at dawn. Good day, Valeria. Nice to pray with you.¡±

    ¡°Good day to you, as well,¡± said Mrs. Ferrers. Servius sprung up as soon as his mother turned to him, working out the cramp in his calf. His mother opened the door to the Temple, light pouring in. It was a warm day. The sun was beginning to crest in the sky. They only had a few hours until nightfall, the end of the festival.

    Servius had only been back with his mother for a day, and he was already sick of it. Cornelia was waiting outside, eyes fixed upon him. His guard. She smiled at him. ¡°Well, young man. Are you ready to go home?¡±

    The key, he decided, was to be unpredictable.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he said. Then he turned around and sprinted back into the temple. Mrs. Ferrers shrieked in panic as he ducked past her, nearly knocking her over. Cornelia had begun sprinting, faster than he was. As she reached down for him, he threw himself to the floor, throwing himself in between her legs and flapping through her skirts.

    Knees aching from scraping them on the marble, he shoved himself up and grabbed for the great statue of Teuthida.

    ¡°Servius! Don¡¯t you dare!¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t tell me what to do!¡±

    He pushed on the secret button at last, with a scraping noise. He watched the secret passage open as his mother launched towards him, skirts gathered in one hand.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem very obedient,¡± said Mrs. Ferrers. She was the only one not moving. She had a hand up over her mouth, holding a smile.

    The passage was still half-open. Servius ducked as his mother grabbed for his collar, then swayed to the side as she tried to grab his hair. One more moment; the passage scraped open even wider.

    He threw himself into the darkness as his mother finally grabbed his tunic. He felt it slip out of her fingers as his heart raced.

    Free. He was finally free.

    ¡°I will find you, Servius! I know where you¡¯re going!¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know me!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m your mother! Of course I know you!¡±

    He turned around just long enough to blow a raspberry. Bad idea; his mother was already rushing down the steps. Servius glanced once more at Mrs. Ferrers, who was bent over with laughter above. Beyond her, Cornelia was still prone on the floor.

    His mother launched towards him, hands out. He turned on his heel and scampered into the darkness.

    He¡¯d seen enough of this. It was time for him to have a real adventure.

 56. Moving Target

    My absent, mysterious, and horribly boring husband was the Voice of the greatest god in the world. I blinked, hard, in case I¡¯d hallucinated it. The Baron Vindex. When we¡¯d met, he¡¯d represented an old, if impressive, house. Desperately in need of new money, in the form of me. My signature on a paper, at least, and my mother¡¯s cooperation.

    He wasn¡¯t in need of money now. He wore a golden ring of office, some ridiculous hat with multifaceted eyes on it, and a necklace so heavy with gold I was surprised it hadn¡¯t strangled him yet. He didn¡¯t seem to have much of a spine to resist it.

    His face remained. So bland it looped back around to being distinctive.

    I resisted the urge to thump him over the head with the basket of food I¡¯d carried in. After telling me to speak to his secretary, he¡¯d turned back to his notes. As if that was all he needed to do. ¡°It¡¯s been fourteen years,¡± I said. ¡°You couldn¡¯t take some cousin?¡±

    My mother definitely had offered him any conscious woman in the family she could. I could only imagine her face when he¡¯d ascended. Somewhere between rapture and torture.

    Imagine. All it had taken to get my mother and I working for the same goal was literal godly intervention.

    He didn¡¯t even look up at my entreaty. He underlined some comma, then scratched out a letter.

    Line-editing. Instead of speaking to me. Presumably, he cared about his immortal soul. Was he dedicating that to some secretary¡¯s work, too?

    I gave up, stepping back and assessing the room at large.

    The Voice of the Beetle, of course, in the center. On his right was an empty chair, and then another filled by a woman sitting straight upright. She had pale eyes and a hand held up, quivering, to her mouth. Her eyes were slowly filling with tears. Next to her was an old man, head tipped back and snoring. As I watched him, he snored so hard he woke himself up, choking on drool. His tunic was emblazoned with a fiery horse. The Voice of Cabellus?

    Behind the chairs on the right were a pair of servants- one hunched over, leaning on a cane and hooded, and one young. They were accompanied by a single guard. The guard looked a little strange- his plate was misbalanced, and his helmet kept slipping forward. The servant, next to him, avoided my eyes. It looked like the same young man who had promised Candida mead.

    The guard straightened up and put a hand behind his back, where he¡¯d been sneaking it inside of his helmet to scratch at his nose.

    Well. I didn¡¯t know what was happening, but it wasn¡¯t to be dealt with now.

    I turned to the left of the table. There were seven seats set up, but only four were set up. An older man toasted me with his cup. ¡°Thank you much for the food. Mind passing it over?¡­Sorry about him. He¡¯s always that way.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m quite aware.¡± I handed him the basket, cogs in my mind turning.

    Behind me, Duran stepped closer. Apis pulled the door closed. With a thump, we were in the top tower of the chamber. Closed in with the Council of the Chosen.

    ¡°I¡¯m not just here for Baron Vindex,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m here to pursue Justice.¡± I tried to say it with bells on, like Andrena did. Only a few people paid attention to me. The suspicious guard clanked, his head turning towards me.

    ¡°Just like everyone else, then,¡± said the loud man. He waved a hand. ¡°Well? You¡¯ve brought the basket, let¡¯s have it!¡±

    The Voice of Ursus was already peering under the fabric. ¡°I say, this looks delicious! Fresh, even. Not that cold stuff we¡¯ve been getting. Makes me feel like it¡¯s a normal time again.¡±

    He pulled out the flatbread, wandered over to slump down next to the pale, trembling woman. She must be the Voice of Teuthida, then; the Upper Gods, separated from the small gods. Staring at each other across the table.

    ¡°Makes me wonder why we even bothered with this locking-up nonsense in the first place,¡± mumbled the Voice of Ursus, through his mouth of flatbread. ¡°Waste of time. No one¡¯s even tried to get us, in all this time. Makes me think that certain people were a little quick on the draw. Eh? Eh?¡±

    He turned, obviously, towards the Voice of Teuthida. The Voice of Teuthida reached into her breast pocket and removed a handkerchief, which she used to delicately dab at her cheeks. ¡°You- you do not realize what is happening! Before us is a great threat! She is here to murder us!¡±

    The loud man had given up on me and gone to go get his own food. He stopped halfway through a chicken thigh.

    ¡°What, with a lemon slice?¡±

    The Voice of Teuthida threw the handkerchief down with surprising violence. ¡°No, you fool! She¡¯s brought fake guards with her! They¡¯ll roast us on spits! Decry the gods! And you will have accepted it!¡±

    ¡°Ah, well, just another day, then,¡± said the man.

    I coughed. ¡°Excuse me. Who exactly are you?¡±

    There were other small gods there- only three in total, to fill out the council of seven they were permitted. I wondered if the others had rejected the invitation, after the burning of the altar. They had certainly seemed afraid, in that tea-house.

    ¡°Voice of Saxum,¡± he said. He nodded his head to me. ¡°God of rocks in boots.¡±

    ¡°And?¡±

    ¡°Just rocks in boots.¡±

    ¡°You made it here, through¡­?¡±

    ¡°Well, every time you find one in there, you believe don¡¯t you?¡± He gestured to the room at large. ¡°Sure, huntsman pray to the forests, or sailors to the winds. But everyone¡¯s got a boot.¡±

    ¡°Enough! She is distracting us. She is a murderer, a thief, a-¡±

    ¡°I brought you food, and now I¡¯m here to find the truth,¡± I said. I slid the basket over to the Voice of Teuthida. Impressively, through this whole exchange, Baron Vindex hadn¡¯t looked up once. He circled something else on a list.

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    ¡°What truth! We¡¯ve said we¡¯re contemplating!¡±

    I had to circle this slowly. If you wanted a stew to come out right, you couldn¡¯t rush it. First you browned your meat, added your vegetables. Then you put it on the heat to simmer.

    I stepped closer to the Voice of Teuthida. She didn¡¯t shrink back, like she might have if she was actually afraid. She was truly crying, I¡¯d give her that; I got a stink of onion off of her handkerchief. ¡°Your work?¡± I said, nodding towards the pages of writing on her desk. I caught a glimpse of something about budgets, a row of zeroes, a rejection.

    ¡°I do what is necessary for my temple! As do we all,¡± she said.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a yes.¡± I took the papers before she could do anything else, holding them up. The handwriting was familiar. Very familiar.

    I had spent a long, long time in that hold, staring at those letters.

    ¡°Letterboys,¡± I said. Baron Vindex still scribbled, on his throne. The rest of the room was staring at me. In horror or appreciation, I didn¡¯t know. ¡°I assume you¡¯re all familiar?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re here about the letterboys?¡±

    ¡°I heard they escaped,¡± said the Voice of Saxum. ¡°Pulled a disappearing act.¡± He waved his hands dramatically.

    ¡°I heard the Law executed them in secret, afraid that the law would be called heartless,¡± said another of the Small Voices, a woman so old I was surprised she¡¯d even made it up the tower. She scowled at me. ¡°Disgraceful. Boys that age, being blamed for that sort of thing. Makes me think of the bad old days. We should have grown more, as a country.¡±

    ¡°I heard there was a rule no one could go in or out of the tower,¡± I said. ¡°How are you getting your news?¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± said the old woman. ¡°Well, Vitus doesn¡¯t count. He¡¯s been here longer than any of us have. He¡¯s practically an institution.¡±

    We all turned to stare at Vitus. ¡°Well?¡± I said, to the ancient servant in the corner, hiding behind his hood. ¡°Which is it? Are the letterboys dead, or are they escaped?¡±

    The old man straightened. I caught a glimpse of his face, now, as he turned to speak to me. I had seen it once before. Leaning back in a chair, in the Temple of Small gods. In front of an alter burned to ashes.

    ¡°It¡¯s not for Vitus to know,¡± he said. He was much more quiet here. ¡°I bring only the news.¡±

    Should I confront him now? No. I had no evidence that he was related. It was just more evidence that something was going wrong. I watched as he turned away again. The Voice of Teuthida was staring at him, fingers drumming on the tabletop.

    Next to me, the Voice of Celeres leaned towards me. ¡°That man-¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m handling it.¡±

    Was I?

    I reached into my pocket and pulled out the letters, ruffling my fingers through them. ¡°The Temple of Teuthida, in the Southern District. Lovely place. Have many of you visited?¡±

    ¡°Obviously.¡± That was from the Voice of Teuthida.

    ¡°Once only. Decent, if a little cramped.¡± The Voice of Saxus, again.

    A scratch as Baron Vindex crossed something out, handing it to the Voice of Teuthida. ¡°Re-write this.¡±

    ¡°Were you ever taken to the tunnel underneath?¡±

    I turned, watching my audience. The strange guard shifted again, uncomfortable in his armor. Duran put his hand on the sword. The Council looked confused, bored¡­ or uncomfortable.

    ¡°What do you mean,¡± said the Voice of Teuthida. ¡°There is no tunnel.¡±

    ¡°Oh? I walked there myself. I was accompanied by my apprentice, Duran. Duran, are you willing to testify?¡±

    Duran peered around the room, then nodded. ¡°There was a tunnel!¡±

    ¡°Take your hands off of that sword,¡± I muttered, then continued, ¡°Do you recall the entrance- squeaking? Being rusty? Needing grease, at all?¡±

    He shook his head.

    ¡°There you have it. Someone¡¯s aware of that tunnel. They¡¯re maintaining it. Lovingly.¡±

    ¡°What of it? Anyone can have a tunnel.¡±

    ¡°Husband. Baron Vindex. BEETLE!¡±

    When he didn¡¯t respond, I cleared my throat a second time. He finally looked up. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Who signed the quarantine regulations into law?¡± The stricter set were only a few years old. Approved by both the law and the Spire. There were certain specifications- including where ships had to anchor at harbor.

    ¡°That would be me,¡± he said. I turned away, disappointed, until he continued- ¡°And the Voice of Teuthida, who suggested them. There¡¯s been a rise in the pox of almost 30% over the last twelve years, which is likely a result of open borders-¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡± I held up a hand. ¡°She recommended Quarantine ships anchor at the end of a tunnel that connects to her temple. Strange, isn¡¯t it? Why would you do that? Would you want your worshippers to get sick?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous. If that happened, it was only a coincidence.¡±

    I slammed the letters down on the desk. ¡°These are written in your hand,¡± I said. ¡°They seem like nonsense at first. Speaking of eclipses, speaking in numbers. We knew there had to be a code, however, when we remembered the last eclipse. I suppose a few of you saw the last one?¡±

    The Voice of Ursus nodded heartily. He¡¯d moved on from the chicken to a flatbread with olive. ¡°Fantastic,¡± he said. ¡°Thought we¡¯d lost the sun entirely for a moment there. ¡°

    ¡°Quite a while ago, though, wasn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes,¡± he said.

    ¡°Twenty years, if I recall. Which doesn¡¯t match this letter.¡± I held it out, began to read aloud. When I was thirty-one, I saw the moon cross over the sun and try to set us into darkness. Did you see it, too? Did you wonder if we were trying for something too large to understand?

    ¡°What do you mean by this nonsense?¡± The Voice of Teuthida leaned away from me. ¡°So the eclipse statement didn¡¯t make sense. What of it?¡±

    ¡°These letters are in code,¡± I said. ¡°Vitus, do you take letters for people?¡±

    As one, everyone turned to the ancient Vitus. After a moment, he nodded.

    ¡°Have you ever taken one for the Voice of Teuthida?¡± I added.

    ¡°I take letters for all of the Voices,¡± he said. That was when I remembered it- the proof that he was involved. What he¡¯d been holding, that day in the temple of Small Gods.

    ¡°So,¡± I said. ¡°My point stands.¡±

    ¡°So what! I have the right to encode my messages. This city is falling apart. It¡¯s certainly not safe to write things in plain speech.¡±

    I pulled out the other two letters. I watched her lean back, slightly, in her seat. She seemed to be unwilling to touch the seat-back, as though it pained her. ¡°It matters because we have your other letters. We decoded them using a children¡¯s book- one that I saw Vitus holding the other day.¡±

    ¡°Now you¡¯re accusing me of having the mind of a child! Really.¡±

    She held up the onion handkerchief to her eyes again, tears springing to meet it. The Voice of Cabellus, fully awake, leaned over to pat her on the back. She shrieked in pain and leaned away.

    ¡°Apis,¡± I said. ¡°Why don¡¯t you tell us what you read in those letters?¡±

    There was a click as Apis removed his helmet and rolled his neck, clearly uncomfortable to be in sight.

    ¡°You see!¡± said the Voice of Teuthida. ¡°Hidden! In plain sight! An attack on us!¡±

    ¡°Oh, shut up. This is just getting interesting. Pass the bread!¡± The Voice of Saxum waved his hand invitingly.

    ¡°Quite a few of them didn¡¯t make sense,¡± Apis said, finally. ¡°But one of them was clear. Move believers to shadow.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense either! You¡¯re obviously just throwing darts at a moving target.¡±

    ¡°As it happens, we found the letterboys,¡± I said. ¡°But I¡¯m not the best person to tell you about that. Voice of Celeres, where were they?¡±

    ¡°The quarantine ship,¡± said the Voice of Celeres. She hadn¡¯t taken off her helmet, only pushed up the visor. Her eyes glared out, angry at the world. ¡°You know what they said? That the Priests of Teuthida promised to rescue them from the Infamy. Instead, they ended up locked up until I pulled my own strings.¡±

    ¡°So she admits it! She¡¯s been manipulating the guilds.¡±

    ¡°The guilds are a different question,¡± I said. ¡°The facts are clear. You sent your priests to hurt the letterboys, after they were framed for the arson of Andrena¡¯s temple. Why?¡±

    The Voice of Teuthida seemed confused by my question. She turned to either side, like they might have answers for her. ¡°Of course I didn¡¯t!¡±

    ¡°We all saw the evidence. It was you.¡±

    Of course, I¡¯d seen Sylvia on that ship, too. If she would only admit it¡­ we might be able to resolve this easily.

    ¡°If they did anything, it was without my knowledge, and I decry it,¡± said the Voice of Teuthida. ¡°Horrible, the level of help you get these days. Apologies, please speak to my secretary.¡±

    ¡°As if that man ever works,¡± muttered the Voice of Cabellus, next to her. She elbowed him.

    The hard way it was, then.

 57. Gift Horses and Mouths

    ¡°Candida. You¡¯re a priestess of Andrena,¡± I said. ¡°How did you end up in the Spire?¡±

    Candida seemed almost surprised to be spoken to. ¡°Oh, I-¡± She coughed, then stepped up. ¡°Well, Mr. Vitus there invited me. He said they wanted me to represent Andrena.¡±

    I let my eyes trail over the three seats at the table. No space left for Andrena. ¡°What were you actually doing?¡±

    ¡°Paperwork. I haven¡¯t even been allowed up here, to see anyone,¡± she said. She coughed. ¡°Ah-¡°

    ¡°Candida was about to testify to the public,¡± I said. ¡°Tell them what she saw. She was there, the night of the arson. She saw the arsonist¡¯s face. You had nothing to do with the fires. That¡¯s what you claim, yes?¡±

    ¡°Of course it is! I would never do such a thing.¡± The Voice of Teuthida stood up, pushing her chair back. ¡°In fact- I don¡¯t know why we even tolerate your presence. You¡¯re not a Voice! You don¡¯t belong here. You aren¡¯t Lucilla, who feeds us. You¡¯re- you¡¯re simply a leech. Leave at once! I¡¯ve already apologized.¡±

    "Candida. Who did you see, that night?¡±

    Candida didn¡¯t hesitate. She lifted her hand, pointing straight at the Voice of Teuthida. ¡°I don¡¯t- there were two of them,¡± she said.

    ¡°You see!¡± The Voice of Teuthida was triumphant. ¡°She was befuddled by the smoke and fire. Doesn¡¯t remember a thing. Besides, she¡¯s just one priestess. I¡¯m a Voice of an Upper God. You¡¯ll take her word over mine?¡±

    I reached into my cloak. It was tucked underneath the cloak I was wearing as a disguise, making me overly sweaty but holding onto what I needed- an extra set of pockets.

    On the table, I set the folded letterboys clothes. Next to them, I put a pair of pale, greasy, gloves. ¡°Note the burn marks,¡± I said. I unfolded the tunic, held it up to the room. ¡°On the bottom of the tunic, but on the top of the pants. Whoever wore this, they were too tall for it to fit.¡±

    I held up the gloves. ¡°As for these¡­ they stink of whale oil. It burns bright and fast. Fast enough for the bucket brigade to not get there.¡±

    ¡°I already said I didn¡¯t do it,¡± said the Voice of Teuthida.

    ¡°You have illusion magic.¡± I stepped around the table. ¡°You could make it look like there were two of you. Muddy the waters.¡±

    I let my hands hover over her back. ¡°If we looked underneath your tunic, would we find a burn mark matching the space on that tunic?¡±

    ¡°Get off me! I deserve personal space. Guards!¡±

    None of the guards responded to her. Not because she had no point; I was, in fact, in her space. It was simply that I suspected all of the guards in this room were entirely fake.

    The one behind her shifted slightly again, plate clanking.

    I withdrew anyway. I didn¡¯t want to get in a fight- she was small and slight, but she seemed like she was mostly made of bottled rage. That sort of person was dangerous.

    ¡°No matter,¡± I said. ¡°Whoever gave you those clothes did you a dis-service. No one should be touching you, now.¡±

    ¡°Makes no matter to me,¡± she sniffed. ¡°I didn¡¯t wear anything.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure? If you did, you should start consulting a healer,¡± I said. ¡°The boy that owns those clothes had the pox. That was why he couldn¡¯t deliver. It¡¯s fine for a child, of course¡­ but for adults, the sickness is often terminal.¡±

    The Voice of Teuthida froze. ¡°You- you lie.¡±

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    ¡°Oh, no,¡± I said. ¡°Those were plague clothes.¡± I held up the gloves. ¡°These are plague gloves. Did they fit you well?¡±

    ¡°But- you held them!¡±

    ¡°I had the pox when I was a small child.¡± I pointed to the mark on my chin. ¡°It was mild. The younger the better, they say.¡±

    She was shaking. She looked between the room, but no one was giving her sympathy anymore. Not even the Voice of Saxom, who had wrinkled his nose at the burned clothes and moved his plate away.

    ¡°You¡¯re saying she went off and burned down a temple, then made us hide away because of it? That¡¯s some madness,¡± he said. ¡°No wonder she¡¯s been so tense.¡±

    ¡°I burned it down for all of you!¡±

    The Voice of Teuthida picked up one of the gloves and threw it at him. It hit him directly in the face. ¡°All of you. None of you understand. I¡¯ve been working for- for years to try and fix this. Year after year, the law gets stronger. Who do we have, to lead us, to take our power back? Him! Of course I made some moves- everyone needed to know that an upstart Voice was hardly going to work. The Spire needs to be seen as a source of power! Of Influence!¡±

    She flung a hand towards Baron Vindex. He looked up. ¡°If you have an issue with my leadership, you can always consult the proper channels,¡± he said.

    ¡°It¡¯s not just that he¡¯s going to allow the law to take us over!¡± She said. ¡°He was going to allow small gods to rise! He wanted to test the upper gods! Use the scales on everyone! As if we haven¡¯t earned our seniority!¡±

    ¡°Obviously, it¡¯s better to test every year,¡± said Baron Vindex. ¡°For example, Ursus. Does anyone pray to him anymore?¡±

    ¡°Certainly! Don¡¯t want your bow to go off-target, do you?¡± said the Voice of Ursus. Everyone roundly ignored him.

    ¡°You burned the altar at the small gods, then, just to¡­¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why that girl came up here,¡± said the Voice of Teuthida. ¡°I warned her- I thought the fire would be clear enough. It was all perfectly logical. The Spire needs to gain power, not give it to little upstarts. If she wants to be involved, she can come back in a decade.¡±

    ¡°Why did you retreat into the tower, then?¡± Her ideas didn¡¯t make sense to me. Killing Marcia, perhaps, if she didn¡¯t like Andrena¡¯s plans- but why hadn¡¯t she attacked the Voice of the Beetle? ¡°Didn¡¯t you need to be with the law, to help influence them while they investigated?¡±

    ¡°We needed the public to see how disarrayed they were,¡± she said. ¡°To know how much they needed us. You should understand the concept. You read the book.¡±

    Of course. The children¡¯s book she¡¯d used as her code. The beetle on the cover, fighting to push along.

    Where a shadow was cast, the light did show

    The beetle flown, stray believers left to

    Link elbows and try to move¡­

    the world themselves, their lives askew.

    Every season rumple-and-tumble

    Without gods to help the struggle,¡±

    A new prayer to bring

    the gods back to spring

    believers rejoiced and said never a¡¯gain

    would they ask the gods where and when!

    A little ditty all about never looking a gift-horse in the mouth. All of the believers, left to do the work themselves, begging to have help again. She was exactly the sort who would believe it. ¡°We,¡± I said. ¡°Who is we?¡±

    ¡°There is no we,¡± she said, after a moment. She coughed. It was like all the air in a balloon had deflated, after her violent outburst. She looked around, pulled her seat up, and sat back down. ¡°Obviously, I worked alone.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no obvious about it, as it happens. You wanted Celeres out. You wanted power. Who was telling you what to do?¡± I squinted.

    Some pieces of the puzzle were coming together. Lady Sylvia had told me she was involved- told me to get my fingers out of her pie. But I¡¯d seen her coming back to town at the same time I did. She had a solid alibi. Besides, arson just wasn¡¯t her style.

    Manipulating someone else into doing it for her? That was her style. Especially if the Voice of Celeres was helping a guild she disliked.

    I almost had to admire it. In one fell swoop, Sylvia had almost removed the Spire entirely. She had reduced the power of the Laundresses, pushed the Voice of Celeres into hiding through agreeing to work with the Voice of Teuthida¡­ all for what? Some minor gain of power for her husband, a councilman everyone hated?

    I missed the inn. I could almost taste the mead. ¡°As soon as you locked yourselves up here,¡± I said, ¡°The Lord Julian began inciting riots. Claiming that you were ignoring the problem. That only the law could help the city.¡±

    When I spoke, two things happened almost at once. First, the Voice of Teuthida slammed a hand down on the table. ¡°That isn¡¯t what we agreed to!¡± she said. ¡°That sneak! I should never have trusted her.¡±

    Behind her, the false guard pulled off his helmet. Servius stared out at me, too-lanky and eyes wild. ¡°My mother would never do something like that!¡±

    I had a response ready- something about never knowing someone truly- but I couldn¡¯t manage to get it out.

    Behind me, the door slammed open. We all turned to watch as a woman poured in, supported by a foam of guards and pikes. The city guard, infesting the spire.

    The Lady Sylvia pointed towards Servius. Behind her, Cornelia nodded. Satisfied. ¡°There he is!¡± she said. ¡°My son! They kidnapped him. The Spire has gone mad!¡±

 58. Problems for Later

    There I was. In the center of the Council of Gods, on the eve of Beetle¡¯s Flight. At dawn, the horrible creatures would be released, showering the capital in bright wings and more legs than any acceptable being should really have. I shuddered to think about it.

    In the current moment, I stood at the center of a U-shaped desk. In front of me was my husband (as much as I tried to avoid him), the Voice of the Beetle. The most important person in the Spire, although he pretended to be mostly occupied with his books.

    To his right were the Voice of Ursus (old, mad, currently eating chicken instead of paying attention), the Voice of Teuthida (guilty of arson and using an onion in a handkerchief to falsify tears), and the Voice of Cabellus (also very old, snoring). To his left were three small gods, spread out to fill seven chairs. One of them, the Voice of Saxom, had obtained an apple from somewhere in his pockets.

    He bit it, loudly, as the Lady Sylvia continued to shout. She was in the doorway, surrounded by enough city guards to make another riot and flanked by Cornelia.

    Her son, strangely enough, hadn¡¯t run to her. He was slowly backing away, towards the corner of the room. He¡¯d even put his guard helmet back on, as if any of us would fall for it.

    I could see the situation devolving rapidly. It would all play out so simply. Vitus clearly had a crossbow tucked under that giant cloak. I could see the edges, where he was grabbing for it. He would pull it out, the guards would use their swords. Being in the middle, I would be stabbed, or possibly shot by a crossbow bolt. Given that I still hadn¡¯t gotten my soul back, that would leave me in the stars forever, until the beetle rolled the world back around.

    In summary. Deeply inconvenient.

    Andrena, I am going to hold a grudge for this. Forever.

    Duran was slightly behind me, staring at the Voice of the Beetle. ¡°Duran,¡± I said. ¡°I need to borrow something.¡±

    ¡°What do you-¡±

    Before he could finish the question, I¡¯d pulled out the Abyssal Blade from the sheath at his hip. The clouds, flashing with fire below, reflected off of the blade. It looked deadly. It was also a lot bigger than the knives I usually used. I adjusted my grip.

    ¡°Everyone!¡± I shouted. ¡°I have an Abyssal Blade, and I¡¯m not afraid to use it!¡±

    That shut them up. ¡°Ah,¡± said Sylvia. She had started to jump across the table in pursuit of Servius, and was now stopped halfway across. The Voice of Saxom leaned over to push his cup out of her path. ¡°Elysia, let¡¯s not get over- excited.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t tell me what to do.¡± I swung the blade towards her. She leaned back. Good. Sylvia might not believe in most religion, but it seemed even she was afraid of being thrown into the stars forever. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, everyone!¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m a paladin. So when I send your soul to the stars, you can tell them it was justified.¡±

    ¡°A paladin?¡± The Voice of Ursus coughed, halfway through a drink. ¡°Girl, those don¡¯t exist anymore!¡±

    I swung the blade towards him.

    ¡°Fine, fine,¡± he said. ¡°Whose paladin, then. Not one of mine, I suppose.¡±

    ¡°Andrena.¡± No point concealing it now.

    ¡°She does paladins?¡± The Voice of Saxom stood up and strolled to a cabinet in the corner of the room, apparently unconcerned about the horrible, cursed sword I was holding. ¡°I thought it was just¡­¡± he waved a hand. ¡°You know. Massive, ah, chests. Of¡­ pickles. And mead. Definitely mead!¡±

    ¡°Remember the sword,¡± I said. I very much empathized with Duran. ¡°If you don¡¯t have something useful to say, don¡¯t say it.¡± He rose his eyebrows insolently, but he didn¡¯t reply. ¡°Apis,¡± I said. ¡°Please show those nice guards out the door and close it behind them.¡±

    Sylvia got up and started to walk. ¡°Not you,¡± I said, holding up the blade so it crossed her path. ¡°You can stay here. We have some problems to discuss, I think.¡±

    As she stared at me, the guards clattered out the door. They were well-armed, it was true. But the city guard didn¡¯t pay enough for anyone to give up their soul, it seemed.

    ¡°If this is about your little¡­¡± She turned to look at the audience around us. ¡°Well, your little visit to my residence, surely that¡¯s not something to hold a grudge about? I told you, it was nothing personal.¡±

    ¡°When I said I was on a mission for Andrena, I meant it,¡± I said. ¡°Sit down. We have plenty of chairs.¡±

    Everyone was much more cooperative now that I had a horrible giant sword out. I waved it occasionally, letting everyone arrange themselves. Even Servius pulled up a chair, next to Vitus the traitor. The mead-bringing servant stayed at the edge of the room, nervously putting his ear to the door.

    ¡°They¡¯re saying they¡¯re going to try and find siege weapons!¡± he reported. ¡°Someone¡¯s asking about a trebuchet!¡±

    ¡°That trebuchet is a problem for later. I am a problem for now.¡± I stood back, swung the sword in a wide loop. ¡°So. Before you entered, Lady Sylvia, we were just discussing something very interesting about you. I thought you might want to join the conversation.¡±

    Lady Sylvia had only taken a few minutes to re-adjust to the situation. Now she sat in the chair calmly, as if this was a simple council meeting. ¡°I suppose this is about the Quarantine Ship,¡± she said. ¡°I requested they help me in the moment. Obviously I hadn¡¯t been involved previously. It simply- well, I do have a little money stored away. Purse money, for dresses and such. I reacted as needed.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t take anyone aside on that ship,¡± I said. ¡°Didn¡¯t speak to them at all.¡±

    I glanced towards the rest of the room. ¡°Lady Sylvia walked through the tunnel at the Temple of Teuthida with us,¡± I said. ¡°Then, without so much as a by-your-leave, she trapped Apis and I in the ship. She left us. With no lantern, no food-¡±

    ¡°I fed you!¡±

    ¡°It was intolerable.¡±

    ¡°You cannot say you weren¡¯t fed simply because you disliked the fare. I treat-¡± The Lady Sylvia coughed. ¡°Well, if I did have prisoners, I would treat them well.¡±

    ¡°She didn¡¯t need to say anything. They were already on her payroll.¡± I turned to Baron Vindex. ¡°Has the Voice of Teuthida made any funding requests recently? How much has been spent on her temples?¡±

    While big decisions were made during Flight¡¯s Feast, with the release of the colonies (the flight itself) at the upcoming dawn symbolizing the completion of the decade, there was still paperwork to be filed in the middle years. Instead of bringing together the whole council, as far as I understood it, individual gods pled and had to get votes from each Voice. Previously I hadn¡¯t bothered to think about it much.

    Now I was in the muck of it. More fool me.

    ¡°No, as it happens,¡± said the Baron. ¡°No requests at all. The Voice of Teuthida actually rejected our offer for funding of the temple. Said that offerings had been increased.¡±

    I turned back to the Voice of Teuthida as she began to protest. ¡°I think you were telling the truth,¡± I said.

    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    That shut her up quickly.

    ¡°Sorry?¡±

    ¡°Not offerings from the public at large,¡± I said. ¡°But offerings from one person in particular. Your price for helping Lady Sylvia in her mission.¡±

    The Voice of Teuthida wavered. ¡°It is not forbidden to take offerings from noble houses. It is not!¡±

    I sighed. Time to approach a different angle. ¡°Voice of Celeres. Take that helmet off before you answer me, I hate the echo. What exactly did you do for the Laundresses guild?¡±

    There was a great clanking as she removed it. Finally, she spoke. ¡°Can we test my blood on the scales, already? I should be an upper god.¡± She leaned forward. ¡°I mean, we already found out who did it. Let¡¯s move on.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± said the Baron Vindex. ¡°I¡¯m interested. What did you do for the guild?¡±

    The Voice of Celeres flushed. ¡°What¡¯s it to you? You don¡¯t even acknowledge me.¡±

    ¡°Answer the question, child!¡±

    Sylvia¡¯s sharp bark finally made her respond. She coughed. ¡°Well, it wasn¡¯t much. Just.. just free delivery.¡±

    ¡°Well, there you have it,¡± said the Voice of Saxom. ¡°The entire city, aflame because of free delivery. You should have just said it, girl!¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t supposed to say!¡± Her shoulders went up, her head pulling back. ¡°I don¡¯t know why!¡±

    I didn¡¯t know why either. I frowned. I¡¯d expected something more¡­ suspicious. Hiding forbidden letters, maybe, or helping them blackmail someone. Free delivery?

    ¡°That¡¯s why you had me going through all those papers!¡± said Candida. ¡°You thought the Laundresses guild had fake costs somewhere.¡±

    I glanced between her and the Baron Vindex. He was nodding slowly. ¡°Everyone knew they couldn¡¯t afford that new vat. They¡¯ve been listing delivery as a cost of business- with a significant markup. No wonder they¡¯ve been making so much extra money. We weren¡¯t able to tax them at all.¡±

    He leaned forward. ¡°No other Voice would have helped them. But you¡­ this is a reason we need to bring all Voices into the fold at once! You should have known what side to stand on. Now the Law and the Spire are all getting mixed up. People are evading taxes! Because we didn¡¯t open our arms to new members!¡±

    All of my revelations. The horrors, the murder. He drew the line at tax evasion?

    ¡°Lady Sylvia,¡± I said. ¡°I thought I recognized some of the people at that breakfast. They were speaking to you, at that horrible party my mother threw.¡±

    She shrugged. ¡°What of it? I have friends.¡±

    ¡°You wanted the Laundresses out. They must irk you. Running half of this city. No noble blood. No power over anything. Just good, old-fashioned, corruption. Meanwhile you¡¯re trying to force Lord Julian to follow your orders, and half the time, he forgets what you wanted him to say.¡±

    She laughed at that before bringing a hand up to her mouth. ¡°Well, that doesn¡¯t mean anything.¡±

    ¡°It means that you didn¡¯t just want Voice Marcia out. You wanted the Voice of Celeres out. I remember what you told me. I needed to get my fingers out of your pie. You even told me- my mother wanted to be involved, at first. She tried for this plan, too.¡±

    ¡°And unlike her, I¡¯m actually here!¡± she said. ¡°Your mother has, once again, blundered into my life.¡±

    ¡°So you admit it,¡± I said. ¡°You were behind all of this.¡±

    She rolled her eyes. Next to her, Servius leaned forward, protesting. ¡°My mother would never-¡±

    A broken record. I waved a hand over at him, shut him up.

    ¡°Vitus,¡± I said. ¡°You took letters for the- as we all know, now- traitorous Voice of Teuthida, yes?¡±

    He hesitated. ¡°Traitorous?¡±

    ¡°Focus on the point. Did you, or did you not?¡±

    I was losing the room. He glanced from side to side. ¡°Ah- well- yes, I did-¡±

    ¡°And did you take any to the Lady Sylvia?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± he admitted.

    ¡°There you have it,¡± I said.

    ¡°You have nothing!¡± interrupted Sylvia. ¡°A few letters, my generosity towards the Temple? You¡¯re imprisoning me and my son, all because of a grudge from school.¡±

    I glanced towards Cornelia. ¡°Cornelia, I assume you recall every person that visits the house? You seem to be very organized.¡±

    She kept her lips firmly shut.

    ¡°Oh, go on,¡± said Lady Sylvia. ¡°It¡¯s hardly incriminating.¡±

    ¡°Well?¡±

    ¡°What would you have me say? Yes, I recall who visits. We take pride in creating a top environment for all guests.¡±

    ¡°Have you had any priests of Teuthida over lately?¡±

    She hesitated a moment too long. ¡°Yes,¡± she said. ¡°But you must understand. This is normal, for the end of the year.¡±

    ¡°What did you serve them? What food?¡±

    She turned to look at the Lady Sylvia. The Lady Sylvia waved in invitation.

    ¡°The soup course was a light broth, with seaweed to aid the digestion. For the main, a roast boar, with cellar onions and potatoes,¡± she said. ¡°There was also a burst pepper-corn sauce in cream. For the dessert, roast peaches with honey-crusted salt roasted almonds.¡±

    ¡°Peppercorns,¡± I said. ¡°You, Lady Sylvia, famous for your sharp financial savvy¡­ spending money on imported peppercorns? For a guest?¡±

    ¡°I-¡±

    ¡°Was there a pickle course?¡±

    There usually was, at these events. A crisp pickle, before the main, after the soup. Something to help your digestion, right with the soup.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Cornelia admitted.

    ¡°What was pickled?¡±

    ¡°Eggs, hot wax peppers, and spiraled cucumbers in dill¡­¡±

    ¡°Three types of pickle! I rest my case. Lady Sylvia was bribing those priests.¡±

    The Voice of Teuthida began to speak up again- wanting to protect the Lady Sylvia- but I interrupted her. ¡°You think she¡¯s on your side? After all of this? The only person she wants to help is herself. She probably wrote that speech for Lord Julian, about how the Voices were failing the city. After starting the whole problem herself!¡±

    The Voice of Teuthida turned to face Lady Sylvia, beginning to speak, but the Lady Sylvia interrupted her.

    ¡°Yes. Yes, I had my best interests in mind. I refuse to apologize for it.¡± She stood, pushing back the chair. ¡°This entire trial you¡¯ve set up is a farce. I am the wife of a councilwoman, and I cannot be thrown about at sword-point and accused.¡±

    ¡°Do you deny the charges?¡±

    Our eyes met, for a second. I could have been sixteen, on the duelling field at our finishing school. Sylvia was always better at that, too. Then the gaze broke and I felt the years all at once, the ache in my arm, saw the wrinkles on her face. Her son was tugging at her sleeve, eyes wide.

    ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°I see nothing wrong with it. She-¡± Lady Sylvia gestured to the Voice of Teuthida- ¡°Thought she could fix the Spire by taking charge of it. I have no such hope. Look at this! You¡¯re meant to be the leaders of this country. Ruling it by half. The Voices of Gods. Yet one middle-aged woman comes in with a basket of food and a sword, and you¡¯re all hiding behind your tables.¡±

    ¡°Well now,¡± blustered the Baron Vindex. She ran him over mid-sentence.

    ¡°I would expect the gods to choose someone better. Use their powers. Instead, look at what¡¯s assembled. A complete fool, a set of old men, and some ego-maniacs with delusions of power. None of whom are any good at politics. Not one of you has visited the council chambers. It¡¯s been a decade!¡±

    ¡°I was going to get around to it,¡± muttered the Baron.

    ¡°No point. Nothing interesting over there,¡± said the Voice of Saxom.

    ¡°You see! It would have been a mercy, to remove the Spire. To give the ruling of the people back to the noble and elected class. The Voices can stay with what they do best. Kissing babies on the cheek and standing in Temples.¡±

    I reached up to try and apprehend her, but she pushed the sword away by the hilt. A crucial weakness of an Abyssal blade; you must actually be a capable swordswoman.

    ¡°Come, Servius,¡± she said. ¡°We must go. Some of us have jobs to do.¡±

    Not so fast.

    The words tore out of my chest, other-worldly, before I had any option to do otherwise. The same spirit was throwing my aching bones forward, grabbing Sylvia by the back of the collar like a kitten. She went easily. I was full of inhuman strength. My movements were not my own.

    Well? Nothing to say, now?

    ¡°Elysia,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ not acting right.¡±

    My Paladin has done what is Right. What is Just. Now you are mine to deal with. In days of old, I would kill you for this insult.

    There was a squeak of fear behind me- us?- my body, at least. Andrena turned my head. I felt myself pressed into a corner of my own mind, squealing in protest. It was rude! You couldn¡¯t just tromp into someone¡¯s head and then use their body to do violence!

    ¡°Ah- my Lady Andrena,¡± muttered the Voice of Teuthida. ¡°Please, consider mercy. Aren¡¯t you- I thought you were a goddess of kindness?¡±

    I would kill you, too, said Andrena.

    She dropped the Lady Sylvia. Unfortunately, it is not days of old. Marcia informs me there is something called a ¡®Murder Charge¡¯.

    ¡°Yes,¡± said the Baron Vindex. ¡°They took away our immunity after the events of- well, I¡¯m sure you were there, actually.¡±

    Andrena stared at him for a long, long moment. He gulped.

    You will stay, she said, turning around again and staring down at the Lady Sylvia. I wished she would remember to blink. My mortal eyes were burning. You will accept judgement. Or the sword will swing, and your soul will be mine to use as I please. This is my Justice.

    I staggered forward and leaned on the table for support as Andrena¡¯s presence left me. It was like a boot suddenly removed from my throat. I had to remember how to breathe again.

    I spotted Servius trying to escape out of the corner of my eye. ¡°Not so fast!¡± I lifted a trembling hand with the sword.

    In front of me, the Baron Vindex cleared his throat. ¡°Well. I suppose we¡¯ve all realized your position on the matter,¡± he said. ¡°Will it be, ah¡­¡± He coughed. ¡°The mercy of the sword?¡±

    The Sword. The traditional punishment for murderers and traitors* (*actually, the newer punishment. The older one included a lot more torturing beforehand). Public death.

    I shook my head. ¡°No. I have a better idea.¡±

    ¡°Exile?¡± said the Lady Sylvia, a little too hopefully. I recalled her mentioning, back when we were girls, her husband¡¯s (then fiance¡¯s) vacation house abroad.

    ¡°Worse,¡± I said. I finally gave up and re-sheathed the sword. ¡°Paperwork.¡±

 59. Beetles Flight

    ¡°Smile, everyone.¡± We approached the bottom of the spire. I had put the Abyssal Blade back- Duran had taken it with reverent hands, more respect in his eyes than I think I¡¯d ever seen before- but they all treated me with a little more reserve. Once a woman swings a blade around, you never know when she¡¯ll do it again. ¡°Let¡¯s see if they¡¯ve got that trebuchet already.¡±

    The night had slipped away without me noticing it. I shuddered in horror. I had hoped to slip away before the Flight, escaping the beetles after dealing out Andrena¡¯s justice. Instead, in a last cosmic joke on her part, I had been trapped. Dawn approached.

    Soon, the colony would fly. ¡°Are you sure they still live?¡± I said, leaning over to the Baron. ¡°Don¡¯t beetles¡­ wouldn¡¯t fire hurt them?¡±

    He leaned away and held out a paper. ¡°Your copy,¡± he said. ¡°You didn¡¯t take it up in the tower.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± I didn¡¯t really live a life where anyone checked my divorce paperwork. I took it anyway, stuffed it in my cloak. Andrena, I¡¯ve got my soul back now. So when we¡¯re through, I expect it in my body! No scratches, paint still fresh!

    ¡°Well,¡± he said.

    We had all clustered behind him. It was a mutual agreement; if someone had to be sacrificed, it might as well be the Baron. He would look as unappealing in death as he did in life.

    He hesitated for a moment, then pulled open the door.

    We stared down the barrel of a cannon. ¡°Hold fire!¡± he shouted. ¡°All is at peace!¡±

    Behind the cannon, a woman- I thought it was a woman, anyway, there were a great deal of robes- rose. She wore green and brown, the colors of the beetle. Her eyes were covered by massive multi-faceted glasses. The lenses of an Imago, made to imitate the beetle.

    ¡°He lives!¡± She shouts. ¡°Everyone, our Voice is delivered! The world rolls onwards!¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± said the Baron. A crowd surged forward and tried to pull him from the tower. He went, although very slowly. More of a gentle walk than a run.

    ¡°How did he even get chosen?¡± I said, after a moment. We had all been roundly ignored. ¡°Surely there was someone else¡­ better. For anything.¡±

    ¡°The Beetle needs someone who can understand it,¡± said Apis. ¡°And, well¡­¡± He made a vague gesture. ¡°It¡¯s a beetle.¡±

    ¡°I think that was almost an insult,¡± I said. ¡°Well. With that in mind, let¡¯s proceed. Everyone, grab onto something you don¡¯t want to lose. If it gets too bad, I¡¯ll take out the Abyssal Blade.¡±

    That hadn¡¯t been a request for people to guard me, but somehow I made it through the mass of beetle followers with them all huddled in a little cluster, keeping the crowds away. Even the city guards that Sylvia had talked down escorted me, swords out.

    Sometime in the middle of the night the fire in the festival grounds had been put out. I walked through the crowd and towards where the stage had been, glancing over the wreckage. Some of it still shouldered, damp with water. A few trees had clung onto life.

    The stage had crumbled, too, but beneath it was a stone foundation that looked steady enough to stand on.

    People had begun to gather. It didn¡¯t matter that there had been a riot, that there had been a fire. The Beetles would fly soon, and they would fly here. Luck mattered more than a little smoke inhalation.

    Stupid. But it would help me.

    I hauled myself up, grunting with the effort. Duran shadowed me as I strode to the middle of the stage, clearing my throat. ¡°Everyone! Eyes up here!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a pretty big beetle!¡± shouted someone in response. ¡°Going to start flying, or is it too early?¡±

    ¡°Be quiet!¡± shouted Duran, but I waved him down.

    If the city was recovered enough to be rude, that was a good sign. ¡°We¡¯ve emerged from the Spire to give news of negotiations,¡± I said.

    The crowd, which had briefly turned to pay attention to me, turned away again. Behind me, I heard a groan of annoyance as the elderly Voices of Cabellus and Ursus helped themselves up on stage. ¡°We¡¯re making major changes!¡± I shouted. Still no response.

    Someone was selling fried meat on a stick in the corner of the festival- it must have been built overnight, since everything had burned- and was getting more attention than I was.

    This called for a special skill of mine. Shouting loudly. I cleared my throat. ¡°THE VOICE OF CELERES IS NOW AN UPPER VOICE!¡±

    That got their attention. A hundred or so faces- loosely gathered in the grounds, spread out as far as I could see- all turned to me at once. One woman stopped mid-chew of her meat-stick.

    ¡°What?¡± said a man, below the stage. ¡°That¡¯s preposterous. What is she, the god of seagulls?¡±

    ¡°There will be a guild audit,¡± I proclaimed. There was a rustling. I was losing their attention. ¡°The Voice of Teuthida will lead it!¡± Their attention came back. ¡°Assisted by Lord Julian and Lady Sylvia. They will run the audit with a committee of six rotating Small Gods.¡±

    The Lady Sylvia cleared her throat, next to me. When I had suggested the audit- telling her to clean up her own mess- her words had been, in short, absolutely not, are you mad, and this will look ridiculous.

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    She gave the crowd a half smile. ¡°I live to serve you, and our people,¡± she said.

    ¡°There is a new complaints office!¡± I shouted, before they could go away. My final price. ¡°Contact the Voice of Celeres if you know of any evasion, corruption, or problems with the Spire.¡±

    ¡°But who burned down the Temple of Andrena? I thought they were retreating to consider it!¡±

    That shout came from the back of the crowd.

    I could have said the Voice of Teuthida. It was true. She was only being punished via tax audit, which wasn¡¯t a real punishment for murder. She had tried her best to destroy the Spire, too- scared a teenage girl, imprisoned small boys. All to try and gain a minor amount of power.

    Still. She¡¯d done all that, and gained absolutely nothing. Now I was going to force her to spend day after day with Sylvia, who had betrayed her. Force them both to confront the problems they¡¯d caused.

    Would it have been more satisfying to execute her, the way they¡¯d wanted to execute the letterboys? Maybe.

    But I had a feeling that would have escalated to an all-out battle. And I wanted to be done with being a Paladin.

    ¡°The Voice of Andrena¡¯s temple burned down due to an unfortunate accident,¡± I said. ¡°No one was at fault. Her soul was carried well to the garden of the gods.¡±

    I bowed my head in a moment of silence. I hadn¡¯t known Voice Marcia at all. But she had offered me a drink, once, in the afterlife. That deserved a memorial.

    I pointed to the Voice of Celeres. ¡°Please! Ask her all further questions!¡±

    I backed rapidly off-stage, jumping at the end, as the crowd rushed in. I dove towards the back of the field, where a few stands weren¡¯t completely gone and some burned wood remained. I hid behind a plank and listened to the outcry of the public.

    It felt good to be done.

    ¡°Well,¡± said Apis. ¡°What next?¡±

    ¡°What next? You saw it! I¡¯m finished!¡±

    ¡°I just meant¡­¡± He shrugged. He¡¯d followed me under the burned stand, keeping a look-out for the crowd. It seemed no one thought I was important enough to follow. ¡°Well, you¡¯re exiled from the city now.¡± Sylvia had pointedly not revoked her statement of exile. For me or Apis. ¡°I just thought you might, well, have plans elsewhere,¡± he said. ¡°Sorry for prying.¡±

    ¡°I guess I was going to go back to the inn,¡± I said. I squinted out into the crowd. ¡°Duran, don¡¯t.¡±

    He stopped mid-gulp. ¡°The sword-swallower could do it!¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean you should test it with a kebab. Get over here, we¡¯re planning.¡±

    He looked over his shoulder once more at the crowd, but obligingly trotted to join us. He leaned against the burned wood, nearly knocking it over, before he stood back up and brushed himself off like nothing had happened. ¡°What are we planning? Are we going to save another city?¡±

    I looked around us. The festival grounds were burned. There was nothing left of the Temple of Andrena. I¡¯d told the Council to use Candida as a substitute for the Voice of Andrena, but the other priestesses would probably be very angry about it. My mother would be furious that I¡¯d divorced the best husband she¡¯d acquired for our family in years. At least the Baron Vindex probably didn¡¯t care one way or the other.

    ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°It would probably be best for everyone if we stopped saving cities for a while.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± He put his hands in his pockets and kicked at a piece of burned grass with his shoe. ¡°So where are we going, then?¡±

    ¡°I thought we¡¯d go back north.¡± I watched his face fall further. ¡°You like it up there! There¡¯s snow. You never get snow in the capital. Just a white ash you shouldn¡¯t breathe.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t get coaches, either. Or big temples, or festivals, or parties where you get eel on crackers,¡± said Duran. ¡°Or fermented shark! Or boats.¡±

    He had a point. All of those points, however, were exactly why I wanted to leave the capital. ¡°Well, I can¡¯t stay here. Also, I¡¯ve just stolen you from your father. I need to return you at some point.¡±

    ¡°No, you don¡¯t! I¡¯m your apprentice. You¡¯re in charge of me now.¡±

    With anyone else, I might have questioned that. With Duran, he had a point. Durandus the First still hadn¡¯t noticed his wife had left, and it had been ten years. She had even bothered to make the divorce official.

    It wasn¡¯t like I¡¯d especially liked that inn in the first place. But¡­ well, it had been home. I¡¯d ended up there, years ago, and I¡¯d settled in. I frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t have any other ideas,¡± I said. ¡°Suggestions?¡±

    ¡°I have a little money,¡± said Apis. ¡°We could try and get on a coach, see if anyone¡¯s hiring just outside of city limits?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re coming with us?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t stay here.¡± He glanced away. ¡°Not that you have to allow me to- of course I¡¯d go my own way, if you didn¡¯t want me to come with you.¡±

    ¡°Oh, this is stupid.¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°Yes, you¡¯re fine to come with me. The hive, I presume, will come as well?¡±

    ¡°Yes, of course! I would never abandon them like that.¡±

    ¡°Well, that narrows things down substantially.¡±

    I frowned. I hadn¡¯t wanted to break into it already, but¡­ ¡°Look,¡± I said. ¡°The divorce settlement gave me some money.¡± It hung, satisfyingly, on my hip. He''d practically thrown it at me, as if I would use the sword to extract money from him.  ¡°Enough to buy- well, not a good place. Not even a mediocre place. Probably a broken-down place, in the middle of nowhere. But¡­¡±

    ¡°I could brew,¡± said Apis.

    ¡°I could do the rest. Seems like a decent plan.¡± Gone from the city. No longer having to deal with Durandus the first. It was a dream.

    ¡°And an entire garden for the bees!¡± said Apis.

    ¡°Let¡¯s not get too optimistic.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re leaving already?¡±

    We all turned. Somehow, in the midst of the conversation, Servius had snuck up on us. I sighed. ¡°Not you too. I already said, I¡¯m leaving. I¡¯m certainly not getting involved with you.¡±

    The worst part was, he didn¡¯t even argue. He just nodded, turning to Duran and giving him another solemn nod. I should feel completely fine leaving him here. He would be safe. Well-fed. Probably made into some fancy politician.

    But something in his eyes¡­ well, it reminded me of me. Before I¡¯d been able to escape. Stuck in that horrible room, watching Baron Vindex ignore me. Thinking I was stuck there for the rest of my life.

    ¡°Look,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m sure we won¡¯t be hard to find. If you ever need to, you can come by.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a bargain!¡± He stood up painfully straight and saluted me.

    The conversation ended there. Not because I had nothing more to say, but because the sun had finally come up. With a great fluttering of wings, a quiet sound that built on itself to be thunderous, the beetles flew.

    They came from every direction. Unlike a normal festival, it seemed that guardians of the beetles had taken the colonies and run. The beetle colonies streamed out of open windows, out of baskets, out of a single boat I could see anchored on the silty dry bed of the Used-to-Be. They all joined above us in a single stream, spiraling together in front of the sun like a strange eclipse.

    Then, one by one, they began to split off. Looking for new homes. I shuddered in horror as a fat beetle flew a little too close to me, on the edge of a colony heading for a half-burned tree in a pot that hadn¡¯t been rescued in time.

    At first, the colonies leaving made no impact on the buzzing mass in front of the sun. Then, as they whittled down, it became a more distinct shape. There wasn¡¯t just one mass of beetles; they were a group of ten colonies, then nine.

    Finally, only one circled in front of the sun. Picky. We watched as they descended, spiraling towards a storefront with an old oak in front, protected from the blaze with what looked like sodden blankets. The crowd, previously so unruly, had quieted. Waiting. The beetles settled on the branches of the tree. A single leaf remained.

    The sun was pale behind the clouds, barely above the horizon.Beetle¡¯s Flight was over.

 60. Ep-Bee-Logue

    The colony rested upon the back of the cart. It was bumpy, which was Not Good; but the smell of the grass was sweet, and the smoke had finally cleared from the air. They were able to see the bright sun, and there were many flowers. They had even seen a new human, and investigated it. It had replied with much shouting, and tried to bat them away. This made no difference to them. They had investigated the hair (black) the sword (smaller than the one on the Loud and Bright human) and the clothing (good texture, but no interesting colors. Not like flowers at all).

    The cart rattled to a stop, and Keeper Apis leaned over to check upon them. ¡°Are you doing well? Everyone still on?¡±

    They buzzed in reply.

    ¡°Good, good,¡± he said. He held out a dish- it looked like liquid, filled with wet pebbles, reported the DroneFriendMember on the back of his hand- then placed it on the back of the cart. The DroneFriendMember investigated, stepping onto a pebble.

    The truth was clear. Water!

    With a buzz, other WorkerFriendMembers and DroneFriendMembers joined, elated. As they danced the joy dance, a shudder ran through the colony. The queen¡¯s antennae twitched.

    Keeping busy, my sweets?

    Andrena! They danced a dance of reporting. There had been a mule (stung) and a river (of Bad Water, Not Good, Not Good at All) and another river (Good Water, a new experience, water to drink from the ground) and there was even a sky without grey clouds in it.

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    Come to me. I wish to see you.

    They wiggled in excitement, talking to each other through the dance. A FriendMember must be chosen. The decision was easy. The brave DroneFriendMember, who had adventured out onto the dish of pebbles, would be rewarded for his adventure. He would see Andrena.

    He wavered out, buzzing in goodbye, before spiraling down. Andrena¡¯s hand reached out, inviting him into the realm of the gods. He hovered, hesitant.

    It¡¯s fine, little one. You may rest upon my fingertips.

    He landed. She had left water- Sweet Honey, Very Good- upon her fingertips. Like nectar, but better. A treat for him. He danced in celebration.

    So. You venture further with my paladin.

    The Short and Loud one, with the Dark Hair and the Spoon? He wiggled in agreement.

    She has further plans? Does she tell you of them? Where does she head?

    The Short and Loud one didn¡¯t tell him her plans. She wasn¡¯t like Keeper Apis, who told them everything, and understood the ways of bees. She stomped around, and kept to herself! She didn¡¯t even share her water in dishes of pebbles, or offer flowers that she saw by the side of the road like the Bright and Loud one!

    Unfortunate. You have not seen other Voices? No other gods?

    No one. There was only the road, and the bright sky. And the humans. Keeper Apis, who did his best to keep the others in line. The Short and Loud one, who always messed up their plans. The Bright and Loud one, who was good to bees.

    I see. If you see any other symbol of a god- any other symbol at all- you will tell me, won¡¯t you? I know you¡¯re very good bees.

    They were very good bees! They would look out. No symbol of another god would be allowed. They would guard her interests.

    Very good. Here, take some additional nectar on your way. I know travel is difficult.

    Keeper Apis was very good to bees, the DroneFriendMember reflected as he flew out, but Andrena was a goddess. There was just no competition.

 1. [Sidequest] The World Rolls On

    Baron Vindex, Voice of the Beetle, Commander of the Spire, one of the Pillars of the Free World, and Caeso to his mother, wished that people would stop demanding he talk to them.

    He crouched further into the leaves. They crunched under his heels, dying. The beetle, crawling upon the great tree of the world (or, at least, a great tree of the world), ate a little more bark.

    ¡°What are you trying to tell me?¡± The beetles had been writing more and more patterns lately. A bad omen. Perhaps the worst. ¡°Please,¡± he begged. ¡°The great beetle has been so quiet lately. Have you heard anything?¡±

    The beetle, being a beetle, said nothing.

    ¡°Sir,¡± said his secretary, a second time. ¡°You¡¯ve received a letter.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I know.¡± He waved a hand behind him. ¡°Put it in the bin with the others. This is important.¡±

    ¡°From the Voice of Teuthida,¡± continued his secretary. He didn¡¯t remember his name. Did it start with a D? Duilius? ¡°The one who committed arson, sir. And wanted to depose you.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes, letters should keep her occupied.¡±

    The beetle was crawling upwards. It had abandoned chewing the bark. Was it because Duilius had come to speak to him? Had the Great Work been abandoned? Or had the beetle simply decided he was no longer worthy of communication? Worse, was the very foundation of faith no longer strong enough to support the words drawn in the bark?

    ¡°Sir!¡±

    ¡°Oh, get it out of here, Duilius,¡± he snapped. ¡°Can¡¯t you see the Beetle is attempting to speak to me? To us? This could be the end of the world!¡±

    ¡°This is an invitation, sir. And my name is Lepidus. Duilius was your secretary two secretaries before me.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡±

    ¡°Anyway, it seems rather time-sensitive, so if you don¡¯t want to read it yourself, I can read it aloud to you. If that wouldn¡¯t disturb the beetles.¡±

    Caeso sat back on his heels, considering it. Who was to know what would disturb the beetles? He didn¡¯t want to listen. Then again, that attempt to depose him the first time had burned down several trees and almost stopped Beetle¡¯s Flight, so¡­ ¡°Fine,¡± he said. ¡°You may read it aloud to me.¡±

    ¡°Did you want me to do a voice, sir?¡±

    ¡°A voice?¡±

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    ¡°To sound like the Voice of Teuthida, sir. Like-¡± Lepidus cleared his throat. When he resumed, he was in a falsetto. ¡°Beetle Puppet! I bid you follow my commands-¡±

    Caeso shook his head. ¡°No, no. No! That sounds nothing like her.¡±

    ¡°What about this?¡± Lepidus¡¯s voice resumed, this time deep and ominous. ¡°You did not take me seriously when I smote your little servant, the foolish bee buzzing around your heels like a puppy. You did not take me seriously when I set your festival aflame and nearly tore your entire world to shreds!¡±

    ¡°No, no, go back to your normal voice. It sounds like you¡¯ve got a cold.¡±

    Lepidus sighed. Caeso glanced at him for a moment. He seemed very tense. Almost annoyed. As if Caeso didn¡¯t pay him for this very job! The nerve. ¡°Go on,¡± he said. ¡°I thought you were telling me about this letter. Is it not important?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just trying to add a little drama,¡± said Lepidus. ¡°Anyway. Ahem. You even boldly took the blood of a mere child and elevated her newborn goddess, a toddler in the field of divinity, to the pedestal of a queen. No more! I shall-¡±

    ¡°Skip to the important part.¡± The beetle had crawled back down onto the bark, and was eating again. Could the beetle have something to say? What if it was about the new batch of Imagos he¡¯d approved to send to the north? Would they be successful, fighting against those horrible Scientists?

    He shuddered. He hoped they were. If they made it to the capital¡­.

    ¡°You stopped talking? Why?¡± He forced himself to look back over at his secretary. Horrible. Other people were meant to use their eyes for him.

    Lepidus held up the papers. It was a rather large stack. ¡°Sorry, sir. Having to read ahead. The Voice of Teuthida has rather a lot to say. Ah, something about massive tidal waves of fury? A tentacle of revenge? Lots of water-based metaphors here, in case you were wondering.¡±

    ¡°As expected.¡± No one had imagination, in this business. Only Caeso had the strength of mind to interpret the bark, to see the patterns. He stared at the glimmering shell of the beetle, the beautiful play of greens upon the bark. So many futures, contained in such a small creature. All of time, within those lines. Was it anything to wonder at, that people were jealous of his position? They were jockeys for smaller gods, smaller creatures. Obedient to thoughts of squids, of water, of bees, of pickles. They were all nothing, compared to time. To the world itself.

    ¡°Sir, did you hear me?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°She wants you to come to a big demonstration. Apparently she¡¯s going to prove everything wrong, and destroy you once and for all? Become the true symbol of faith? It¡¯s going to be in the square tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Caeso sighed. ¡°I thought it would be something important.¡± Just more dramatics. As expected of that woman. It was shameful, really, who became a Voice these days.

    ¡°Sir?¡± Lepidus coughed. ¡°I can arrange a guard if you¡¯d like. I¡¯ve already cleared your schedule, and if you¡¯d like we can arrange for her to be arrested in time to make sure this demonstration never happens. It looked like she was cooperating with that Paladin¡¯s decree, but it seems with the absence of enforcement she¡¯s become bold. Perhaps some time in lock-up will show otherwise.¡±

    ¡°No, no, no need. There¡¯s nothing she can do that could outdo the divinity of the Beetle.¡±As he said it, the beetle flicked out its wings and began to fly. Into the canopy. A good omen.

    Caeso sighed, stood up. It was time to check the bark. When he turned around, Lepidus was still there. In his sanctuary. Interfering with the beetles. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just very worried. What if it¡¯s another attempt to depose you?¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re so worried, attend yourself. I don¡¯t have time to worry about the present at the moment.¡± Caeso reached forward, removed the bark delicately. It was so smooth, it nearly jumped into his hand. ¡°I am attempting to fix the future.¡±

 2. Tradition

    On the dawn of Duran¡¯s fifteenth birthday, I shoved him off of a riverbank and into the coldest river we¡¯d been able to find.

    It took a harsh few seconds before his head popped out, gasping. He was beaming.

    Traditionally, of course, it would have been frozen. Practically, we were in the southeast and it was only early fall.

    ¡°Don¡¯t look at me!¡± I called. ¡°Start swimming!¡±

    I could see my breath. I didn¡¯t know how he was moving. Still, hair slicked to his face, he started paddling fiercely, head pointed towards the opposite bank.

    Next to me, Apis adjusted his blankets. He¡¯d draped three or four over himself, not used to leaving the warmth of the Capital. A wind had started to pick up, taking a few more leaves off of the trees. ¡°I still don¡¯t entirely understand this tradition.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s not to understand about it? The northerners love it. You enter manhood through a horrible trial of suffering, and then everyone drinks about it.¡± Normally, of course, his father would have dealt with it. It was a rather big deal- a sign of manliness, of the torch passing from one generation to another. As it happened, his father was in the north, probably deep in a bottle at this very moment. All Duran had was me (his teacher, a cook and notably not a man) and Apis (a dedicant of Andrena). This was the best we could do.

    I clutched my own tea closer. It was fairly cold now, after the walk from the village. I was still going to take what I could get. It was warm in the afternoons, when the sun came out.

    The sun was just barely peeking over the horizon. It was miserable.

    ¡°But why,¡± said Apis. ¡°Surely he could grow up otherwise.¡±

    We both stared at Duran as he paddled. He was making very slow progress.

    ¡°I just hope he makes it.¡±

    ¡°Did you have a trial for adulthood?¡±

    ¡°Of course not.¡± I pulled my jacket tighter. The wind had caught up again, howling. Duran was grabbing for a log in the middle of the river, waving at me. I waved back. ¡°I went to finishing school, like a proper young lady. Did your temple do anything?¡±

    ¡°Of course they did. They believed in doing things properly.¡±

    We both winced as Duran slipped off of the log. His head popped out of the water. ¡°I¡¯m fine!¡± He shouted. ¡°I remembered to float!¡±

    I was becoming rapidly thankful we¡¯d chosen a pretty small river. I stepped a little closer to our emergency boat. ¡°What was it?¡±

    ¡°They sent me out into the city. The year I made enough to buy my beehive back, I would be considered an adult.¡±

    ¡°Oh. That¡¯s pretty easy, then.¡±

    Apis didn¡¯t respond. I turned to stare. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°I had to pay rent, too. It¡¯s not like I was swimming in money. And bees are expensive! Besides, it wasn¡¯t really theft. Just an¡­ indefinite loan.¡±

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    ¡°They didn¡¯t give you a discount? You¡¯re in your thirties!¡± Apis avoided my eyes. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°You dropped out of finishing school,¡± he said. ¡°So technically, you didn¡¯t pass either.¡±

    We both turned to look at Duran. He was making very good progress across the river. ¡°Well,¡± I said. ¡°Only one thing for it.¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°It would be over quickly,¡± I said. ¡°Just think. You¡¯d be free of the shame.¡±

    Duran had slowed rapidly. He was slung over a collection of logs and branches, a slow spot in the river, catching his breath. ¡°I¡¯m just taking in the view!¡±

    I cupped my hands around my mouth. ¡°Good job!¡±

    He looked surprised. Was I not usually encouraging?

    Next to me, Apis pulled off his blankets. ¡°Very well,¡± he said. ¡°I accept the challenge. On one condition.¡±

    Before I could reject it, he¡¯d already started taking off his boots. ¡°Oh, no. It¡¯s entirely different.¡±

    ¡°How is it different?¡± He lined them up neatly on the bank. ¡°You didn¡¯t succeed. We should both prove ourselves.¡±

    Duran had stumbled up to stand on top of the cluster of branches, waving to us. ¡°I¡¯m going to do a jump!¡± He shouted.

    ¡°I dropped out of my own volition.¡±

    ¡°You still aren¡¯t technically finished.¡±

    Curse him for his logic. He paused as he held a foot over the river. ¡°Well? Are you going to let Duran beat you?¡±

    <hr>

    Duran glanced between us. ¡°Which one do I open first?¡±

    ¡°Either.¡±

    ¡°You can decide,¡± said Apis, at the same time.

    Duran glanced between us. Then, as if it was a very significant decision, he pulled at the strings of my present to him. The burlap fell open easily.

    ¡°A¡­..book,¡± he said. He couldn¡¯t pretend to stay excited. I cleared my throat.

    ¡°A recipe book,¡± I said. I pointed to the cover. Modern Methods of Cookerye (For Experts Only!!!) ¡°I thought you might like something to base your more¡­ creative¡­ ideas off of.¡±

    You won¡¯t get me with botulism again, Andrena!

    He looked down at it, then nodded. ¡°And when I finish learning all of the methods, I¡¯ll be done with my apprenticeship!¡±

    ¡°Well-¡° It was a big book. ¡°I suppose?¡±

    ¡°You suppose?¡±

    ¡°I mean, there are other ideas in there. Ones not covered. But I suppose we can consider you finished once you¡¯ve learned everything in there. If you really learn it.¡±

    His eyes gleamed with excitement again. He clutched the book to his chest. ¡°I promise I¡¯ll study it! Every night! This is a new test, and I¡¯ve passed!¡±

    I already regretted my promise. ¡°As long as you¡¯ll read it,¡± I said, weakly. ¡°Why don¡¯t you look at Apis¡¯s gift?¡±

    We hadn¡¯t discussed what we were giving Duran. Oven mitts, I thought. A teapot. Something calm. Something good for him. Apis was a good influence that way. I hoped.

    Duran pulled away the string. His face began with a little smile, like he couldn¡¯t believe what he was seeing. Then it trembled into a huge grin. ¡°You really- a knife set? For me?¡±

    They were beautiful. Lined up into even rows. Seven knives and a sharpening stone.

    I turned to Apis. ¡°You gave him knives?¡± I whispered, low enough so Duran couldn¡¯t hear it. ¡°Do you want us all to die?¡±

    ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t want him to use the sword,¡± he said. ¡°This is a better way for him to¡­ah, be enthusiastic¡±

    We both turned to Duran. He was poking at the end of one of the knives with a fingertip. Blood pooled in response. ¡°Wow,¡± he said. He hadn¡¯t even been paying attention to our hurried conversation. ¡°Do you think I should name them?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Apis said.

    ¡°No,¡± I said.

    We both paused.

    ¡°They¡¯re tools,¡± I said. ¡°Giving them names elevates them too much.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re responsible for your well-being,¡± said Apis. ¡°He should give them names. It¡¯s a reminder that they should only be used for their proper purpose.¡±

    I paused. ¡°Actually, you¡¯ve convinced me. It¡¯s like a ship. You name them, and they¡¯re tools.¡±

    ¡°No, you¡¯ve convinced me. It¡¯s like a pan. You don¡¯t name a pan.¡±

    Duran ran a hand over the knives. He had clearly been ignoring us. ¡°I¡¯m naming them. Like you name swords.¡± he said, solid. He pointed a finger. ¡°The Beetle, Cabellus.¡± A cleaver, a chef knife. ¡°Ursus, Andrena, Teuthida.¡± A boning knife, a paring knife, a serrated knife. ¡°And Celeres!¡± The utility knife.

    I closed my eyes in defeat as Apis began to protest. It was too late.

    Was this what Duran would be like in adulthood?

    ¡°Just don¡¯t stab anyone important with them,¡± I said. ¡°Bones would dull the blade.¡±

 3. Pickled Peppers

    ¡°Well, well!¡± The proprietress of the dance-house, Paula, was smoking on a stool in the shade, when we all made our way back inside. ¡°Did you fall in?¡±

    Duran, in front of me, beamed. ¡°It was horrible! I won! It was great! I get to drink now!¡± He had tucked his gifts in safely underneath his blanket.

    I grabbed his shoulder and ushered him around the lady. ¡°We¡¯ll try to dry off first.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t rush on my account. Might as well get some excitement today.¡±

    I took us to the kitchen to dry off, on account of the stone floor. We all crowded around the stove to shiver as a group, the belly of the fire low. I eyed the roasted birds as I did. Still two remaining, and it was nearly noon, with none prepared. It was slow, then.

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re back!¡± Viana pushed the door open with her hip, a tray half-full of empty mugs in one hand and a rag in another. ¡°I thought we might have lost you for good!¡±

    ¡°Never!¡± Duran held a hand out. ¡°I get to drink now!¡±

    She lifted the tray. ¡°Not before I¡¯m done refilling these, you don¡¯t!¡±

    For all of her bullying, though, she made sure to fill a half-mug for him of the weakest blend we had before shoving back out into the main floor. I peeked out after her. Only a couple of tables full.

    I sighed in relief. We had time.

    My dreams of running my own place had dissolved as soon as I¡¯d realized how much property actually cost. Still, it wasn¡¯t so bad here. We were right near the edge of the Capital. It was night and day compared to the inn where I¡¯d worked before. In an inn for pilgrims, you got a lot of guilty religious types. A few drinks and then they went to bed, thinking about all the truths they didn¡¯t want Teuthida to discover.

    The customers through the door weren¡¯t guilty in the slightest. I spotted two councilmen (drunk, at noon on an ebbelsday) one merchant offering what looked like a book of fabric samples to the waitress, and a group of young women giggling in the corner. They were the ones that had ordered the mead. They had the look of money- lace edges on their clothing, the newest fashions. It smelled like a good tip. Even if we all had to tolerate the way they laughed at the lyrics to every song.

    I let the door close and turned back to Duran and Apis. ¡°Right. Everyone can feel their limbs again?¡± Duran nodded vehemently. I pointed to him. ¡°Duran, you¡¯re on break. Apis, did you want to supervise, or should I?¡±

    Apis looked guilty. ¡°I can supervise. If you wanted to cook tonight.¡±

    We had half an hour before Viana was technically off-shift. I pushed my sleeves up. I might as well get a head-start now- she was a good waitress but an awful cook.

    It was easy to get absorbed in the work, even with my fingers half-numb and the fire crackling behind me. Mixing up more cheese pies, starting a few pans on the fire for oat-cakes. It all became a pleasant routine, task after task. I glanced up when Viana finally pushed the door back open. I¡¯d finished two sets of oatcakes.

    ¡°They¡¯re all hungry suddenly,¡± she told me, leaning over the stove. ¡°Could you-¡±

    I flipped a cheese pie with one hand and slid more chicken onto a platter with another. ¡°We need another chicken?¡±

    ¡°Maybe two. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s in the air, but we just got seven more customers. Seven! On an Ebbelsday! They should know not to take his death in vain!¡± She pushed her hair over her shoulder and took the new tray, refilling the mugs with mead.

    ¡°How¡¯s Duran doing?¡±

    I¡¯d sent him out with Apis, fresh out of the river. I hadn¡¯t expected the dance-house to actually fill up. Viana snorted. ¡°He¡¯ll be just fine. They think he¡¯s cute.¡±

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    On that menacing note, she swanned back out. I turned back to the pies, watching them sizzle.

    The night trickled by as most nights did. All I saw was the crackle of the fire in the potbellied stove, and the ceaseless offering of orders. Seven pickle platters, ten cheese pies. Extra mead, extra spicy chicken. Two dips, no sauce (whatever that meant!).

    It all became a blur. I stopped for a minute and leaned against the other edge of the kitchen, wiping my forehead with a rag and taking a sip of the mead. That was one bonus of working with Apis; the drinks were always good.

    Viana pushed the door open. I sighed. ¡°If it¡¯s more chicken, we¡¯re out for tonight. Someone¡¯s going to have to go to market tomorrow-¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she said. She was actually wringing her hands in her apron. ¡°Someone¡¯s asking for you. By name.¡±

    My hand went to my spoon. ¡°If this is another complaint about the pies, that¡¯s just the way they¡¯re made! They can go to the Beetle about it, for all I care!¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not-¡±

    ¡°Is it Duran?¡± I shouldn¡¯t have left him with Apis.

    ¡°No. It¡¯s-¡± she paused. ¡°Could you just waitress for a little bit? You can go out and speak to him. I¡¯ll handle it in here.¡± She moved up and refilled all the drinks on the tray, offering it to me. ¡°Please?¡±

    I glanced around the kitchen. There was nothing she could break too badly. ¡°Fine,¡± I said, reluctant. ¡°But if they say anything rude, I¡¯ll use the spoon. I don¡¯t care what the rules are about it.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± she said. ¡°But- please listen. Before you use the spoon.¡±

    I took a deep breath. Then I lifted up the tray, and prepared to do my least-favorite job. Beyond the door, there was heat. There was light. Even worse, there were customers.

    ¡°One cheese pie and two pickled peppers, hot- extra toasted, please.¡±

    I nodded and pretended to care. Extra-toasted was definitely what would happen, with Viana in the kitchen. She only noticed when something was burning.

    ¡°And-¡± The man leaned forward. Unlike everyone else in the dance hall, he was alone. He was also dressed very neatly, and had nothing to drink. ¡°I¡¯d like to hire you.¡±

    I glared at him. ¡°This isn¡¯t that kind of place.¡± I pointed to the girl on stage. She was still fully dressed. ¡°It¡¯s far-western dance. With the hips. And the music. We aren¡¯t part of that guild.¡± The proprietress actually had a few, more choice words about the guild (something about them being money-grubbing fools who didn¡¯t respect an independent entrepreneur) but I didn¡¯t need to go into that with him right now.

    ¡°No, no.¡± He waved his hands. ¡°I mean as a paladin.¡± He blinked earnestly. ¡°It¡¯s important. Very important.¡±

    Now, I consider myself to be a calm individual. Collected. Which is why I considered it for at least two seconds before hitting him over the head with my spoon.

    ¡°Out! Get out!¡±

    It had been three months. Three months of bliss. I had escaped. I was free of the Capital. Of demands from Goddesses, Temples, and idiots like the man in front of me. I didn¡¯t even recognize him. Had people been gossiping about me?

    ¡°Please!¡± He cowered behind upraised arms. ¡°I¡¯m only here to ask a favor! I really won¡¯t hurt anyone!¡±

    ¡°Out!¡±

    I raised my wooden spoon again, but paused. I could see Duran at the next table, seated next to Apis. He¡¯d stopped mid-drink.

    Maybe I wasn¡¯t setting the best example. I lowered the spoon.

    ¡°If I order more pies, will you listen to me?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll order four more,¡± I said, pushing the limit. Pies were one of our most expensive menu items. Labor-intensive. ¡°And you¡¯ll tip. At least half of the value.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll tip double,¡± he said. ¡°Please. Just listen to me.¡±

    I hesitated. I glanced over to Duran and Apis. Apis had rather obviously scooted his chair closer so he could eavesdrop over the music.

    If I got rid of this leech without listening to his offer, I¡¯d never live it down. I pulled out a chair and sat across from him, putting the tray down. ¡°You have a few minutes. Go.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s about the Voice of Teuthida,¡± he said. ¡°She¡¯s gone missing. She-¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°But- she demanded everyone see her. She was claiming she would show us the error of her ways! Another takeover of the spire! And then- well, she disappeared.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like it¡¯s dealt with, then.¡± I took a sip of one of the glasses of mead on the tray. ¡°Why do you need me?¡±

    ¡°She was saying she would work in the shadows! Bring power that hadn¡¯t been seen in generations! That¡¯s the kind of thing you need a paladin for!¡±

    I squinted over at him. ¡°Who are you, exactly?¡±

    He drew himself up, insulted. He was definitely someone unimportant, I decided. He held himself that way. A little twiggy mustache he couldn¡¯t quite grow, clothes that didn¡¯t fit him quite right. A nervous way of holding himself.

    ¡°My name is Lepidus,¡± he said. ¡°Secretary of the Voice of The Beetle, and while he may not be worried about this, I am-¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± I said. ¡°No. Absolutely not. I divorced him for a reason.¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t even consider it? Not even for a good wage? Accolades?¡±

    ¡°No! I¡¯m not going back to the Capital. Not for anyone, and especially not for him.¡± I shoved back from the table. ¡°Four pies, coming right up.¡±

    Lepidus stood up too. ¡°But- but the entire Spire could collapse. This could be the end of civilization as we know it!¡±

    ¡°Too bad,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m done being a paladin.¡± I¡¯d hidden my sword under hay. Gone back to what I knew. If they wanted to save the world, they could do it without me. ¡°Besides, I¡¯m banned from the Capital.¡±

    Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Duran slouch in disappointment. ¡°Now, sit back down,¡± I told Lepidus. ¡°Your pies are waiting for you.¡±

 4. Lawyers at Large

    Duran stared at me as I held up the knife, blade shining. ¡°The most important thing while gutting a fish,¡± I said, ¡°Is to have the blade sharpened.¡±

    He half-nodded. It had been weeks of effort to catch this fish, his one triumph. On the board, it looked small and disappointing. I tried to look impressed anyway.

    ¡°Place it down on the board, then place the tip just above the rear fin-¡±

    Duran was staring. But not at me. I squinted.

    If only my apprentice would pay attention. ¡°What is it? What is so interesting?¡± I snapped.

    The fish slid under my hand. I re-adjusted it. He blinked, then turned to me. ¡°There¡¯s lights out there. In the restaurant. I thought we were closed for the morning.¡±

    I squinted through the slats. There was something shining. ¡°Fish! Eyes back on the fish!¡±

    ¡°But what if they want a pie?¡±

    I sighed. ¡°Do you want to eat this fish, or not?¡± He had caught it only this morning. Certainly the shine hadn¡¯t worn off already?

    He pushed the door open. ¡°They¡¯re walking towards us!¡±

    ¡°Duran,¡± I said. ¡°You got this fish. It is your responsibility now. If you don¡¯t gut it, I am not responsible for what parts of it end up in your bedding.¡±

    He was my first apprentice. I was still working on how to maintain his attention. It turned out that creative threats about fish guts were pretty efficient. ¡°Um-¡± He stepped back. ¡°Yes, Madam Elysia!¡±

    ¡°Hold the knife towards the fish,¡± I said, resuming the lecture. ¡°Just above the bottom fin-¡±

    ¡°Excuse me!¡±

    Someone was knocking on the kitchen door. I put down the knife in defeat. ¡°We¡¯re closed! Can¡¯t you tell?¡±

    ¡°I asked the woman outside!¡± They were turning the knob, to no effect. I¡¯d bolted it closed.¡°Durandus Petronius the Second?¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s asking?¡± I responded for him. This was new.

    ¡°Do you mind opening the door? I¡¯ve got something to hand to him.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± I said, after a moment. The fish was slippery underneath my palm. We weren¡¯t especially well-protected, even with the slats.

    ¡°This would really be easier if we could speak face to face!¡±

    Nothing good came of a face to face meeting. Yet¡­ well¡­. ¡°Duran,¡± I said. ¡°Open the door. Only halfway, mind you.¡± I had a knife. I could fight them off, probably.

    The slats rose, very slowly. I listened to the creaking and said nothing. When they finally rose to chest level, I said, ¡°Stop!¡±

    The knife flashed forward. ¡°Well?¡±

    ¡°Durandus the Second?¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s asking?¡±

    ¡°Avitus and Aelius, Lawyers at Large.¡±

    I darted forward, holding up the knife as I peered into the crack between the door. Sure enough, there were two of them. ¡°What?¡± Surely that wasn¡¯t allowed. Lawyers were dangerous. If they were allowed to roam around freely, who knew what they could do? Sue at wild? Fine anyone they saw?

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Where is Durandus?¡±

    ¡°What is this about? If it¡¯s regarding the banishment from the Capital, he hasn¡¯t-¡±

    ¡°Not regarding the Capital.¡±

    ¡°Then if it¡¯s about the incident with employment and Lady Sylvia-¡±

    ¡°Our records indicate he¡¯s an adult, madame. Please allow us to speak to him personally.¡± A hand extended. I couldn¡¯t tell if it was from Avitus or Aelius. ¡°Please take this. Upon dispersal of the estate of Durandus the First, proprietor of the One Horse Inn, you have been found to be the heir to the estate. As such, you are entrusted with the deed, taxes, and care of the One Horse Inn. Do you accept these terms?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± This time, Durandus spoke. I was too horrified.

    ¡°That includes the fourteen years of back-taxes,¡± continued the lawyer. ¡°Unpaid, with interest. We can speak about a payment plan if such a consideration is needed.¡±

    My world froze. For as long as I¡¯d had Duran under my care- half-attention or not- I had always known that, somewhere out there, his father was waiting. Perhaps he was an inattentive, useless drunk, who ran a low-rate inn¡­ but he was there. When Duran was done training with me, he could go home. If he got sick of me early, he could always run north.

    I had never before considered the fact that Durandus the First might be selfish enough to die. ¡°Taxes? I can¡¯t pay taxes. He can¡¯t pay taxes, either!¡± I thought about the size of the inn. ¡°Oh, absolutely not. Go back. Check again!¡±

    The hand started pulling back. ¡°Do you reject the offer, Durandus the Second?¡±

    Durandus hesitated. He was half-hiding behind me. His eyes were wide.

    ¡°Wait!¡± I grabbed the wrist. Duran deserved that inn. Even if it was horrible, half-rate, and only served warm ale to pilgrims heading to the northern temple. It was his inheritance! ¡°How did it happen?¡±

    If Durandus the first was actually dead, I¡¯d eat the fish on the board, bones and all. This had the stink of one of his schemes.

    ¡°Madame, please allow the inheritor to speak for himself-¡±

    ¡°My da! What happened to him!¡± Duran had finally collected himself enough to speak.

    ¡°He was reported missing after a pilgrimage to the Northern Temple,¡± said the lawyer. He tried to shake off my grip on his wrist. I kept holding on. ¡°Once he had been gone for three weeks, his hired help contacted us for dispersal of the estate. As such, we attempted to find you. You did make it rather difficult, you know.¡±

    The Northern Temple?

    The Lawyer shook his wrist again. ¡°Must you keep holding on? Either take the estate or leave it!¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have proof he¡¯s dead,¡± I said. ¡°The Northern Temple doesn¡¯t kill people.¡± I sniffed. ¡°Besides, he¡¯d never go. You¡¯re sure you had the right person?¡±

    ¡°It didn¡¯t. But now it has. Seven pilgrims disappeared. And, rumor has it, the Voice herself. The doors are shut- no one¡¯s been able to go in since. Rumor has it the Goddess is angry. No matter, really. The facts are the facts. He¡¯s gone. You can take the estate, or you can leave it to the government for re-dispersal. Make your choice.¡±

    I snuck a look at Duran. He was trembling. I had never seen him this pale, this upset before. His father had never been particularly close to him- he had been half-raised by everyone in the village after his mother left- but still. Durandus the First was all he had.

    ¡°No,¡± I said, turning back to the Lawyer. I let go. ¡°He¡¯s not choosing.¡±

    ¡°Pardon?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re finding Durandus the first. We¡¯ll get him back. What happens then?¡±I could see the shape of it now. Durandus had obviously seen the tax bill coming, realized he didn¡¯t have the money to pay it. He¡¯d probably run to the nearest bar, lied about going to the northern temple, and hunkered down wherever he could find a drink. It was just his luck that his plan would line up with a set of pilgrims actually going missing.

    Well, too bad for him. I was going to drag him out of whatever corner he¡¯d found, and I was going to make him pay. With interest.

    ¡°You cannot simply reject the fact of his death!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll see you in another two months,¡± I said. ¡°With Durandus the First. Where are your offices?¡±

    ¡°We travel.¡± That was the other Lawyer. ¡°Lawyers at Large, if you recall. Simply say our name to any merchant, and you can summon-¡±

    ¡°Too much effort,¡± I said. ¡°The One Horse Inn. Two Months. I¡¯ll bring Durandus the First. You¡¯ll give up on this.¡±

    Then, before they could say no, I shoved the door closed with a loud clatter. There was a sharp yell (I might have caught a finger) and some objections, but finally they cleared out. In the silence that followed, I stared at the fish. Its dead eye stared back. You¡¯ve done it again, Elysia. Put the cart before the horse you can¡¯t afford.

    ¡°Um,¡± said Duran, finally. ¡°You really think he isn¡¯t dead?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s gut this fish.¡± I re-adjusted the knife. ¡°We¡¯ll figure out the rest when we¡¯re finished.¡±

 5. Help Wanted

    It was shocking how little three months of work accounted for, when it started to be broken down and packed onto the cheapest cart I¡¯d been able to find. At least we¡¯d kept the mule. A cart and supplies for the long trip north had taken up the rest of our savings.

    She glared at me, chewing. ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± I said. ¡°Tell it to someone else.¡±

    Duran was approaching her slowly, holding out an apple. She hadn¡¯t yet let anyone touch her. He held it out on the palm of his hand.

    She eyed him suspiciously. There was no movement. ¡°Please,¡± he said. ¡°I could be your friend. We could go on so many adventures.¡±

    She snorted and went back to cropping the grass. Her tail swung, once. I hefted the bucket in my hands again. ¡°Maybe next time.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s always next time, and it¡¯s never now! When the Bard sang his songs about being a hero, he never said the horses were mean and not your best friend!¡±

    ¡°Well, that was because he was a Bard and travelled on foot.¡± I screwed my nose up at the cart. When had it gotten so small? I needed to fit all of my knives in and still leave space for the hive and for all of us to sit on the cart. That mule wasn¡¯t going to let anyone ride on her. ¡°I should have spent more on the cart.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Apis was in full beekeeper garb. I nearly took a step back when he approached, the woven face-plate always a little intimidating. He reached up and pulled it off, waving at me, as he approached. ¡°It should all fit perfectly.¡±

    I pointed at the cart. ¡°Bottles of mead. Our stored food. Supplies for the horse. Clothing. Books. Sword. Beehive. Duran, eventually. One of us, eventually walking alongside the horse. Where¡¯s the third person?¡±

    ¡°¡­.Oh,¡± he said. ¡°Sorry, I should have told you. She likes peppers.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    Out from his pocket- how had he been keeping it in there, it should have soaked the fabric- Apis pulled out a pickled pepper and threw it towards the mule. She snatched it out of the air, teeth clicking together so fast it startled me into stepping back. She whinnied in reply.

    ¡°I¡¯m thinking of naming her Faustina. We need some luck around here.¡± Apis strolled up and rummaged in the cart, emerging with a pair of saddlebags I¡¯d never seen before. Then, unafraid of the unfriendly mule, he simply put them on and began adding books. ¡°That way you¡¯ll have something to read on the journey.¡± I couldn''t believe my eyes or my ears. We hadn''t named her before. Why did she earn a name now, when all she was doing was pulling us north?

    ¡°Me?¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll be monitoring the beehive. Besides, my legs are longer. And you made the pickles.¡±

    He patted the mule once on her side, then trotted off. I stared at the mule, then folded my arms. ¡°I can provide pickles,¡± I said. ¡°But don¡¯t think I trust you. This is a working relationship only.¡±

    She snorted. I took that as mule agreement and turned to go help Apis.

    Duran was officially forbidden from moving the beehive. Apis had, very politely, told him never to touch it again* (*after an incident where Duran had broken the bees out of jail, which was very polite but never to be repeated). Thus, I was stuck in the middle of a swarm of bees, cloak closed entirely and a basket over my head.

    Apis didn¡¯t have another beekeeper suit. This was his next-best system.

    ¡°I really don¡¯t know why you don¡¯t come and speak to them,¡± he said, earnest, as we heaved the beehive upwards. I had no idea how Duran had lifted it himself. It was heavy. ¡°If you did, they would know you. They wouldn¡¯t be afraid anymore.¡±

    ¡°I have other work to do,¡± I said. ¡°Step!¡±

    A step down. An increase in buzzing. I avoided Apis¡¯s eyes through the weave. I didn¡¯t like anything with more than two legs, as a rule. I made an exception for bees because of mead, which was very nice- especially when Apis brewed it.

    That didn¡¯t mean I wanted to be near the bees. They could have their space, and I would have mine. Perfect.

    Except for, of course, Apis¡¯s belief that his bees were lonely. ¡°Just a few moments! It would make all the difference! Oh, watch out for that branch,¡± he said, a moment too late. I stopped, reaching up to detangle it. He reached over and pulled it out. ¡°Sorry!¡±

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°A little more warning next time.¡±

    Together, we thumped the beehive on the back of the cart. I felt sure one bee was looking at me suspiciously. I swallowed. ¡°Andrena,¡± I said. ¡°Don¡¯t take this as a sign of anything¡­.well, religious. I¡¯m just helping out my apprentice.¡±

    The buzzing got louder. ¡°Well, I¡¯m not worshipping the Squid either,¡± I snapped. ¡°No need to get possessive about it. I just wanted you to know. Don¡¯t get any wild ideas. This is about me. Not about you.¡±

    I stepped back from the hive. The bees hummed around the hive. ¡°If I can find the Voice of Teuthida, though, I will,¡± I said. ¡°Just to make sure the job is done. But don¡¯t take it as me coming back. I¡¯m done being a Paladin.¡±

    It was difficult to tell what bees were saying. I took their lack of response as agreement and sighed, turning to watch the sparse woods behind the shack I¡¯d called home for the last three months. Apis was already gone, checking the woods around the hive for any lost bees. Duran was in town somewhere, trying to bargain for some extra materials to repair the cart.

    The sun was halfway up the sky. We were already late leaving.

    ¡°It¡¯s just a temporary trip north,¡± I added, for Andrena¡¯s benefit. ¡°We¡¯ll be back soon enough.¡±

    In the dance-hall beyond, I could see the proprietress already nailing up a help wanted sign. I sighed. It didn¡¯t seem like anyone else believed me.

    <hr>

    ¡°What do you mean, he¡¯s not here?¡±

    I folded my arms and glared in the darkness across the counter. We¡¯d checked all of the inns, watering holes, pubs, and half-broken down carts within walking distance of the One-Horse Inn. No sign of Durandus the first. No one would even claim to have seen him.

    I had never expected to have such a hard time finding him. Once, he¡¯d barely moved from his position behind his desk. He¡¯d even demanded I bring up his ale, so he didn¡¯t have to walk downstairs. How had he escaped me so well?

    We had finally retreated to the source itself. The original inn. I was staring across a counter I¡¯d wiped hundreds of times, at a barkeep I didn¡¯t recognize.

    It wasn¡¯t the new help that was strange. Durandus had never been able to keep barkeeps. It was what he was saying that didn¡¯t make any sense.

    He shrugged. ¡°Told you. He went north.¡±

    ¡°Durandus the first?¡± I made a gesture, his approximate height. ¡°This tall? Hates work? Always drunk? That Durandus?¡±

    The barkeep sighed. ¡°Do you want a drink, or not?¡±

    ¡°I want to know where the owner is!¡± I leaned across the bar, grabbed him by the collar. ¡°And don¡¯t tell me you don¡¯t know. Otherwise, who¡¯s paying you?¡±

    He leaned back. ¡°No need for that! I told you the truth!¡±

    I kept the collar tight in my grasp. ¡°I don¡¯t believe you. Durandus would never go north. He hates the gods.¡± Hate was too strong of a word- it implied enough energy to feel things at all. Durandus the first felt a mild dislike of the gods, because they required effort from him.

    That didn¡¯t stop him from taking money from pilgrims, of course. That was just good business.

    ¡°Listen, lady,¡± wheezed the barkeep. ¡°All I know is that some lady came in, they argued, and suddenly he was going north. That¡¯s it! I thought it was strange too.¡± He shrugged. ¡°He left everything here. Even told me how to re-order supplies. He was serious, for once. I thought he was planning his own funeral, or something. It was almost concerning.¡±

    I dropped him. He stumbled onto the bar, grabbing for the self-defense club. Apis reached forward and pressed a hand to the back of his wrist.

    ¡°Now, now,¡± he said. ¡°Let¡¯s not get carried away. My companion is just worried.¡±

    ¡°Worried? She had me by the neck!¡±

    The bar was empty, save for us. It was mid-day, and the one horse inn was doing even worse than it once had. It seemed that word of the Temple¡¯s plight had spread; not a single pilgrim was here, whetting their appetites before the long trip north.

    Only us.

    ¡°Carried away,¡± said Apis. He patted the barkeep twice on the back of the hand. ¡°I¡¯m sure you understand.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t.¡± The barkeep reached up, rubbed at his neck. ¡°It¡¯s not like I care one way or the other,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s better that he¡¯s gone. He was a horrible boss. Never did anything, forgot to pay me half the time. And never got the right orders.¡±

    He was describing Durandus, all right. I was starting to have a very bad feeling about this. ¡°The lady that came in,¡± I said. ¡°What did she look like?¡±

    He shrugged, avoiding my gaze. ¡°Dunno. She didn¡¯t order anything. Just stomped in with a group. She was wearing a big cloak, though. Carried two swords.¡±

    ¡°Her hair,¡± I said. ¡°What color was it?¡±

    ¡°Bright yellow,¡± he said. ¡°The kind of blonde you don¡¯t see much. Like-¡±

    ¡°Her group,¡± I said, cutting him off before he could finish. The feeling I had in the pit of my stomach was getting worse. ¡°What were they like?¡±

    ¡°Northerners,¡± he said. ¡°Drank all the ale I had and didn¡¯t tip.¡± He squinted at us. ¡°Now, are you going to pay, or not?¡±

    I threw a few coins on the bar. ¡°Here. For the information.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not taking a room?¡±

    So he was doing everything here. I felt a brief amount of pity for him. This would have been my fate, if I had stayed; stuck at the bottom of the pit, trying to survive as Durandus abandoned me for whatever his whims dictated.

    Thankfully, I was long since gone. I stepped away from the counter. ¡°No. We¡¯ve got to go to the temple.¡±

    ¡°The temple? Didn¡¯t anyone tell you? The goddess went mad. She closed that place down.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t care. We have to deal with it.¡±

    It was only once we¡¯d stepped outside, returning to the cart, that Duran spoke. He¡¯d observed our conversation with a little too much silent reverence.

    ¡°What that man said,¡± he started.

    ¡°About that. Don¡¯t do that. I got carried away,¡± I said, hurried. I stepped up to the cart, fumbling for a pickle. We¡¯d have to bribe the mule very well to convince her to move again; she¡¯d already settled in for the night.

    ¡°What did he mean, about the woman? Do you think my Da actually went north?¡±

    There was a time for telling the truth. There was also a time for a bald-faced lie. I opted for the second. ¡°I have no idea what he was talking about,¡± I told Duran. ¡°But it seems your father actually went north. We might as well follow.¡±

    When I finally climbed back on the mule, it was with a heavy heart. Why could I never find an easy solution? I didn¡¯t want to go into any temples. Especially not squid-themed ones.

    Durandus, I swore, clenching a fist around the reins. If you¡¯re actually dead, I¡¯ll kill you myself. I refuse to pay those taxes!

 6. Salt Balance

    We had been following the river Vitreous, the heart-line of the country, for days. The color changing from a silted brown to a bottle-green. Now, I stared up at a clear waterfall. The water danced from bright golden to bubble-pale in the sunset.

    It was cupped by a wide valley. From where we stood, it could have fallen forever, pale water against dark stone. Where there should have been a spray of white water at the bottom, a monument of stone captured it instead. The Temple of Teuthida.

    It was a round, squat thing. More of a fortress than the airy, marble thing I¡¯d seen in the Capital. I sighed. I could see my breath in the air.

    No one responded. I looked behind me. ¡°Duran?¡±

    The cart buzzed. The bees looked back at me, as much as bees ever could. ¡°You were meant to keep an eye on him,¡± I accused. They didn¡¯t reply.

    ¡°Apis,¡± I tried. He¡¯d just been here. What had happened to the plan? To us going in slowly, assessing the situation slowly?

    A sword gleamed in the shade of a tree, the figure obscured by the shade of the sunset. ¡°Speak your name and business.¡±

    I leaned back. Faustina whinnied. ¡°What¡¯s it to you?¡±

    I had seen hundreds of people travel to visit the Temple of Teuthida over the years. Noblemen, peasants, teachers, priests. They had all spoken of this place with a horrified reverence. A temple you had to travel through, understand yourself to unlock. It would show you the lies you told yourself. Help you understand the peak of truth.

    No one had mentioned bandits. Had it fallen apart so quickly?

    ¡°What have you done with my companions?¡± Surely they hadn¡¯t just wandered off. My heart thudded in my chest. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    The sword stayed up at my neck. I reached back to where I knew the abyssal sword was stashed, but I didn¡¯t make the final movement. The sword was too close, gleaming bright. I couldn¡¯t see anything in the brightness of the setting sun. ¡°I¡¯m a concerned citizen.¡± The voice sounded feminine, a little young. Steady and strong, though.

    ¡°This is a temple. It¡¯s accepted for anyone to visit.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t look like a pilgrim. People are meant to give away all of their possessions before visiting the temple.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve just got what I need to feed myself,¡± I snapped, and pulled on the reins. Faustina did nothing. Of course she did nothing, the useless piece of muscle. I should have given her up weeks ago. ¡°Unless you object to some warm food?¡±

    The sword stopped moving closer. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Food. Surely you¡¯ve heard of it.¡±

    I hadn¡¯t expected my lie- or, really, my truth- to be questioned so quickly. I did, after all, plan on going through the temple. Just not for the usual reasons. ¡°You plan on¡­ cooking?¡±

    ¡°What did you do with my companions! I need them.¡± I reached for the sword again. ¡°A temple is meant to be a place of peace.¡±

    ¡°Winter approaches.¡± The sword finally lowered. ¡°I do not know where your companions are. But if you promise not to take our stores of food, I will allow you to join the camps around the temple.¡±

    ¡°Who died and put you in charge?¡±

    The figure finally stepped forward where I could see her. She reached up and pulled down a hood. She wore large glasses, shining in the light- obscuring her eyes. Her hair was dark and pulled into a messy knot. Her figure was slumped, defeated. Even the tip of her sword dragged in the dust. ¡°Everyone,¡± she said. ¡°Haven¡¯t you heard?¡±

    <hr>

    She didn¡¯t respond to my attempts to make friends- or, at least, reduce our enmity- as I guided my mule towards the temple, cart and bees clattering behind me. I called out for Apis and Duran as I went. Apis eventually emerged from the trees, yawning- apparently he¡¯d gone off to look for other paths to the temple, to avoid detection- but Duran remained missing.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll be fine,¡± he said.

    ¡°Famous last words,¡± I said, leaning in to make sure we weren¡¯t overheard. ¡°Have you seen her sword? Do you think they¡¯ve already resorted to martial law?¡±

    Apis glanced between me and the guard that had held me up. ¡°Surely not,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s not a temple of Cabellus. Anyone here would have come searching for peace. For truth.¡±

    ¡°That sword doesn¡¯t look very peaceful to me.¡±

    He was right, though; I couldn¡¯t do much about it. Duran¡¯s fate was his own, for the time being.

    Now that we drew closer, I could see more detail. The temple was perfectly round. Like someone had set out to build a tall tower and just given up halfway through. Every so often- about every eighth of a turn- at the base of the tower, a grate had been installed. Water poured through, forming small streams that merged to create the river we¡¯d been following all this way. Here, at least, it lived up to its name. The water was clear.

    More interesting than the boring construction of stone were the people I saw, clustered along the edges of the temple. Smoke was puffing up from three or four fires. A tent was thrown up, as well as what looked like a wooden shack with a blanket over it for warmth. I could smell meat cooking. I felt my stomach growl. We were running low on supplies.

    I dismounted as we got closer, leading the cart. I squinted up at the edge of the mountains. The sun was beginning to set, highlighting them in brilliant, jagged detail. Still¡­ I thought I could see something up there. It looked like there was more smoke. Maybe a glow of a fire.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    I glanced over to speak to the guard- I had something to say about other Pilgrims giving up their possessions- but she was gone.

    ¡°They¡¯re no fun up there,¡± said a man. ¡°Better to stay down next to the temple. The company is better.¡± He looked up from his fire and waved. ¡°Here to try your luck?¡±

    I blinked. ¡°Sorry?¡±

    He pointed with the skewer. ¡°The temple,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re here for it too? My apologies.¡±

    I stopped the cart from rolling any further. ¡°You know what happened?¡±

    He looked somewhat familiar, although from where I couldn¡¯t say. He had a fashionable little beard, a tiny point with no mustache. Although he wore plain clothes, for a pilgrim, he didn¡¯t carry himself like someone humble. He held his chin a little too high. If he¡¯d been visiting the old inn, I would have charged him double.

    ¡°Me? No.¡± He reached up and took a bite of his meat. I watched as his nose wrinkled, apparently in disgust. Yes- definitely a noble. He clearly couldn¡¯t cook for himself. ¡°All I know is, my plans were ruined. I was partway through the outer ring when I had to run for my life. I¡¯m fairly sure it¡¯s completely collapsed.¡±

    ¡°¡­.I see,¡± I said. The temple looked intact to me. It was solid stone. Surely someone would have noticed it collapsing. ¡°The outer ring?¡±

    ¡°The three rings, of course,¡± he said, as though that explained it. ¡°Have a seat! Plenty of food to go around. Young Katla has been hunting very well for us!¡±

    Young Katla was nowhere in sight. I squinted in additional suspicion for a moment. Then I frowned. ¡°Duran!¡±

    Duran looked up from next to the fire, where he was re-arranging the logs. ¡°Madam Elysia! You made it!¡±

    ¡°I made it? You were meant to be on the cart!¡±

    Apis reached over and pressed a hand on my arm before I could reach forward and drag Duran back to the cart.

    ¡°Thank you for the offer,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯d be happy to accept.¡±

    I dragged him aside- well, a few feet, anyway. ¡°What do you mean, happy to accept?¡± I hissed. ¡°He could be a suspicious character! He stole my apprentice!¡±

    ¡°He has food,¡± said Apis. ¡°We don¡¯t. Nothing meaty, anyway. Unless you wanted oats and flour for dinner?¡±

    I cast another glance at the nobleman. He hadn¡¯t moved. ¡°Your name, sir,¡± I said, eventually.

    ¡°Of course, my apologies.¡± He pushed himself up, fluid, and gave a perfect formal bow. ¡°Herminius, Councilman of the Fifteenth District, although as a pilgrim of Teuthida I have no title at the moment. By all means, continue to call me by my first name. May I have yours?¡±

    ¡°Apis. This is Elysia, and you¡¯ve already met Duran,¡± said Apis. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind..¡± He coughed. ¡°Well, we could assist in preparing the food. If you¡¯d like.¡±

    It was coming close to true darkness now. The autumn was even closer now, here in the north. The edge of cold was on the air. I tied the mule up to the closest tree I could find, loosened the cart, and put on another jacket below my cloak. I could see Apis and Duran clustered around the fire. Hopefully they were using some salt on the meat.

    When I got back to the fire, there were three new skewers of rabbit crackling merrily over the fire. Herminius was leaning in, eyes sparkling. ¡°So, a family trip for a pilgrimage, eh? Good for you!¡±

    ¡°We aren¡¯t,¡± started Duran, but I interrupted him.

    ¡°We¡¯re just here to see the Temple,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear it isn¡¯t going well.¡±

    We might learn more if they thought we were other pilgrims. Thankfully, Duran had experience with my whims. He just leaned in and turned the rabbit.

    There was a crunching of twigs and leaves in the darkness. I tensed, reaching for the wooden spoon in my pocket. A woman¡¯s face emerged. She held the same sword that had been at my throat, but in her hands were other tools- traps, ropes, and another rabbit.

    ¡°Oh,¡± she said. ¡°You aren¡¯t done yet.¡±

    When Herminius had referred to Young Katla, I had pictured a teenager of some sort. This woman was definitely in her twenties, at least. She slumped into the dirt, pushed her hood back and began unfastening her boots. ¡°No luck,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ve been around the outside edge three more times. No sign of anyone.¡±

    ¡°Well, thank you. Rabbit?¡±

    ¡°Not yet!¡± Duran reached out and turned the rabbit again. ¡°It¡¯s still cooking.¡±

    Katla stretched, then pulled off her jacket. She folded it delicately, slowly- like there was something in the pockets she wanted to protect. Then she held out her hands to the fire. She didn¡¯t acknowledge me. I glanced again at the sword and moved a little further away from the fire.

    ¡°I doubt it,¡± she said. ¡°But thanks for cooking the rabbit.¡±

    They made a strange pair. Herminius kept a smile on his face as he took the rabbit, exclaiming over how delicious it was and saying he had big plans for tomorrow. Katla barely ate. She stared into the fire, fingers tapping out an uneven rhythm.

    I took a bite of the rabbit myself and decided she was clearly not in her right mind. ¡°Duran, good job.¡±

    He perked up. ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Excellent salt balance. I can tell you¡¯ve been practicing.¡±

    ¡°I tried to remember the ratios,¡± he said. ¡°And I added some-¡±

    ¡°Rosemary, is it? I didn¡¯t realize we had any.¡±

    ¡°I saw some by the side of the road yesterday.¡± He grinned at me. ¡°You really mean it?¡±

    I nodded, then took another bite. At least something was going right. Next to me, Apis had already finished his rabbit and was throwing the bones into the fire, watching them crackle.

    ¡°I suppose you¡¯ll be leaving, then,¡± said Herminius. ¡°Pity. This is delicious.¡±

    ¡°Actually,¡± I said. ¡°We might as well wait a little longer. We did come to see the temple.¡± I took another bite of the rabbit.

    Herminius leaned forward in the fire, raising his brows in excitement. ¡°I knew it was a good sign when you showed up,¡± he said. ¡°We could use a few people with real skills around here!¡±

    Katla made a small noise of irritation. I avoided eye contact and kept chewing my rabbit.

    ¡°You travelled from far away, Katla?¡± Apis broke the silence after a long few minutes.

    Katla broke a leg off of a rabbit with a vicious crack. ¡°From the north. Separated from my group. Can¡¯t go home without them.¡±

    She bit down so violently I thought she might break the bone. ¡°I see,¡± said Apis. ¡°Many condolences.¡±

    ¡°No need for condolences,¡± she said. ¡°Not yet. Have to get their bones. For burial.¡±

    That was all she said, even as the fire died down. I leaned back and stared out at the rest of the temple grounds. There were two or three more little fires. I couldn¡¯t make out the details in the darkness, even with a fat moon overhead. There were maybe a dozen people here. How many were trapped inside?

    When it became clear no mead was emerging, I forced myself to stand. Herminius had already crawled underneath a down blanket. I didn¡¯t see any form of blanket or tent set up for Katla. She didn¡¯t seem worried about it.

    We made camp a little outside of the main groups. With no tent, we did our best with the wagon and a few blankets. It did fine, except for the constant buzzing of the bees; we¡¯d set them up a decent distance away, but Apis still wanted to hear them. For safety.

    ¡°I swear,¡± I muttered, eyes closed, ¡°No one is going to attack the bees.¡±

    ¡°Remember my landlady?¡±

    ¡°Not an attack,¡± I said. ¡°She got them arrested.¡±

    ¡°Unjustly!¡±

    I shivered. It had seemed like a good idea to come north, until I was here. Stuck under a wagon, jammed in next to Apis and Duran, lying on the cold ground. I was much too old for this. ¡°Next time I try to do the heroic thing, warn me off.¡±

    Duran snored. Apis tried to turn over, but it dragged the blanket off of the two of us. I reached over and dragged it back. He muttered an apology, half-asleep.

    I stared up at the bottom of the wagon. In the darkness, I could just barely make out the difference in the wood grain. The wind wailed through the mountain-tops. The waterfall churned. Apis tossed and turned again. I closed my eyes.

    We would find Durandus the first soon enough. Then this would all be over.

 7. Field of Dreams

    The field stretched on endlessly. Flowers in every direction. Usually it would have made me sneeze. I stared up into the darkness, the pollen hazy, and didn¡¯t even feel the urge to breathe.

    The fields of the gods. ¡°Andrena!¡±

    How dare she! I was just trying to get a nice night of sleep.

    I started walking, then began to run. The tall grasses and flowers offered no resistance, bowing out of my way easily. Time flowed unsteadily. Honey out of a jar. It dripped, but it didn¡¯t move at the same rate. Images were stuttering in front of my eyes instead of moving consistently.

    Where was her podium? The place she had watched me, before? Where she¡¯d spoken down to me, told me I was her paladin? I was going to give her such a talking-to. I had my soul back, now. I couldn¡¯t just be summoned in and out.

    Even though I wasn¡¯t tired, I could feel my chest heaving in and out sympathetically. The flowers had turned bright red now, no longer all colors. In the distance, I could see a building getting larger. A palace.

    The palace of the gods? Could there be other buildings, down here?

    I should have paid more attention, as a child. I found more and more that my grasp of theology was lacking.

    My strides got longer. The building grew. I blinked, trying to bring it into focus. One moment, it looked short and squat, almost like the temple I¡¯d looked at today. Other moments, it looked like the airy and beautiful construction of the Temple of Teuthida in the capital- and in the next blink, it had the elaborate pillars of the spire. I couldn¡¯t bring the reality into focus.

    It gave me a headache. ¡°Put me back!¡± I shouted, but no one responded. Where was she! It was completely out of character for Andrena to summon me and then do nothing. She loved to sit around, lecturing like she was important to me. For her not to even speak to me¡­ I had done her bidding! The least she could do would be to greet me!

    I took the steps two at a time, fueled by my rage. I threw open the door. It echoed.

    Beyond, there was only one room. In front of me there were five thrones. One massive throne, plain hewn stone, then to either side, two large thrones, each carved with intricate designs that seemed to twist and blink when I looked away. Running horses. Burning flame. Squid, swimming in marble instead of water. Bees, nearly able to buzz off of the marble.

    I looked to the left, then the right. Other thrones, scattered through the room. They were placed at uneven intervals, hewn out of different stone, some not even made out of stone at all- I spotted one made out of wicker.

    None were occupied. I clenched my fists.

    ¡°ANDRENA!¡±

    The echo came back. ¡°-Na! Na! Na!¡±

    ¡°I know you¡¯re in here! Tell me what you want!¡±

    I listened to the echo and stormed forward, kicking a throne. ¡°This is beyond acceptable! I¡¯m not your paladin anymore! You ought to just let me sleep if you¡¯re not going to speak to me!¡±

    Shhhhh! A head peeked out from behind a throne. A woman. She was shockingly beautiful. Horns seemed to stretch up into infinity- at least, they should have. Right now, they were more like nubs. Her crown of ever-living bees even seemed a little more subdued.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that the throne of Cabellus?¡± I pointed to the horses, running with swords in their mouths. A little on the nose, if I was honest. But I wasn¡¯t designing thrones for the gods.

    I am being subtle. Something you clearly don¡¯t understand!

    I squinted, recalling the first time I¡¯d met Andrena. She¡¯d condensed herself into a vision in front of me, knocking me over into a creek and claiming she would save my life from a bad batch of pickles. She¡¯d been tall enough to knock me over with a finger. ¡°Sure. Subtle.¡±

    I contain multitudes!

    ¡°Where did everyone else go?¡±

    She put a finger to her lips again.

    Come back here! We will discuss where it is safe.

    Feeling deeply silly, I sighed and bent down, crawling behind the throne to sit next to Andrena. Being a god, she didn¡¯t transmit any body heat. She did have a feeling, though. When I touched her I felt a little like the first sprouts of spring, a giddy new hope. And I had a faint aftertaste of mead.

    I leaned away so we weren¡¯t touching anymore.

    ¡°Well?¡± I said.

    You travelled to the northern Temple of Teuthida, she said. She¡¯d even managed to make the echo on her voice a little quieter.

    ¡°Yes,¡± I said. ¡°If this is about some jealous rage, I said it already. I¡¯m not your paladin anymore. I got my soul back! And you got your justice. We¡¯re through!¡±

    Have you seen her?

    ¡°What?¡±

    The goddess. Teuthida.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± I said. ¡°I must be having some sort of stroke. The goddess? Goddesses don¡¯t live in our world. They live in yours. That¡¯s why you went to all the trouble of harassing me into being your paladin, remember?¡±

    Well- Andrena looked away. Was she uncomfortable? There is a way. Any god can possess a willing mortal. However, usually most mortals¡­.

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Don¡¯t want a god controlling everything they do?¡± It made a certain amount of sense to me. I had grown these hands myself. I certainly didn¡¯t want Andrena using them.

    Are not willing to accept such an honor. She turned to me. So? Have you seen her?

    ¡°Why are you so worried?¡±

    There was a long silence. You have not seen her.

    ¡°I just got there. I don¡¯t know if I would even recognize her. It¡¯s not like she would have a big sign or anything.¡± I paused. ¡°Would she?¡±

    It is no matter.

    ¡°Wait,¡± I said. ¡°This is what happened last time. You kept all of this information from me, and I ended up getting in major trouble. You could save both of us the issue and just tell me what-¡±

    Have a good sleep, Elysia.

    <hr>

    I blinked awake and shot up to a sitting position, trying to reconcile the dream I¡¯d just had. Unfortunately, I was still underneath a wagon. The slam of my head into the wood woke me up more than any horrible dream about Andrena.

    Next to me, Apis muttered something about hammers. I re-adjusted the blanket and lay back down, pressing on the growing sore spot on my head. It was all too much. I closed my eyes, then sighed. No. I wasn¡¯t going to let Andrena distract me again.

    Surely goddesses went missing all the time. Teuthida was probably on some¡­ vacation. To the stars, or something. It was certainly none of my business.

    I reached over and poked Apis awake. ¡°Oatcakes. We need oatcakes,¡± I said. ¡°The people here must be desperate for some hot food.¡±

    He yawned. ¡°Oh. Not because they¡¯re tasty?¡±

    ¡°That too.¡± I had to do something. I might as well sell some oatcakes.

    Duran finally emerged after the third oatcake came off the griddle. He grabbed it straight off the fire, yelping as it hit his hands, then put it into his mouth- apparently not warned well enough by the steam.

    ¡°Iss good,¡± he said, holding his mouth open to let the steam escape.

    I pointed my spoon at him. We¡¯d started a fire next to the wagon and set up a griddle on it. We didn¡¯t have many supplies- only what we¡¯d been able to buy on the way- but it was enough to make a few oatcakes. Well, half-decent oatcakes, at least. Non-perishable ingredients only. ¡°When you¡¯re done burning your tongue, go tell the other pilgrims we¡¯re selling oat-cakes. This morning only.¡±

    He nodded vigorously, then went to go find a blanket. The wind was coming up again, and it was brisk in the morning fog.

    I shuddered, thinking of the snow. It would only be nice for a little while.

    It was easy to get a grasp of the population. A few teenagers, clearly noble, leaning in and eagerly paying for their oatcakes out of purses too fancy to take north. What looked like a farmer¡¯s daughter- she was wearing a practical cloak- asked me if I¡¯d like any apple butter to go with them. A middle-aged woman and her husband split an oatcake, the steam rising up to obscure their faces. I felt like I was slipping back into my old ways. All I needed were the walls of the One Horse Inn rising up around me, and I¡¯d be back under the thumb of Durandus I.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got oatcakes?¡± An older woman, leaning in. ¡°Oooh! They smell lovely, dear. May I have two?¡±

    She held out a coin. A gold coin. If I took it, I would be overcharging her viciously. I did really need the money, though¡­

    I winced.¡°It¡¯s only a couple copper,¡± I said.

    Apis coughed from behind me. I jumped. Hadn¡¯t he gone to find extra firewood? ¡°Any extra goes to the gods, of course,¡± he said.

    ¡°Oh, in that case,¡± she said. She put it in my apron pocket. ¡°We¡¯ve been needing someone who can actually handle a griddle. Gods below, that councilman shouldn¡¯t be allowed to have a fire!¡±

    I tried not to smile as I offered her the oatcakes. She tucked them neatly into a pocket and nodded in thanks.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me asking, Madam,¡± said Apis, before I could bid her good day and get rid of her. ¡°I didn¡¯t see you around last night. Is there another part of the temple?¡±

    I turned to him, but wasn¡¯t able to interrupt. She was already responding as he leaned down and stacked the wood neatly.

    ¡°A few of us are waiting at the exit hut. We have real walls- and a roof!¡± She squinted at me. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t make it with that cart, though.¡±

    ¡°Exit hut?¡± I spoke up, then.

    She pointed up, up, up. To the left of the waterfall. ¡°Those who see the truth in the temple emerge above the waterfall,¡± she said. ¡°There¡¯s a little hut there for them to wait before descending the next day. We¡¯ve been waiting all this time.¡± If I squinted, I thought I could see a few puffs of smoke.

    She took a bite of the oatcake. ¡°If it¡¯s much longer, though,¡± she said, through a mouth of oats, ¡°We¡¯ll be waiting through the winter. They really need to get a move on, in there! I don¡¯t like my chances of getting down that trail in the snow.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re waiting to go in yourself?¡±

    ¡°Oh, no. I follow Cabellus. My aunt¡¯s in there.¡±

    I stopped flipping the oatcakes. ¡°Your aunt?¡± The woman had to be seventy, at least. For her aunt¡­

    ¡°Oh, yes. Lovely lady. Good hand with a sword!¡± She took another big bite of oatcake. ¡°Thank you again for the oatcake!¡±

    I watched her go, faintly horrified. It had been months. An old woman, just wandering around in that stone behemoth? I glanced again at the waterfall. How was she meant to get up to the top of it? Were there just endless stairs inside the mountain?

    Did you have to swim?

    As soon as she was out of earshot, I turned to Apis. ¡°Any extra goes to the gods?¡±

    ¡°We need the money,¡± he said. He reached in and took an oatcake. ¡°Besides, you¡¯re a paladin, are you not? And I¡¯ve dedicated my spirit to Andrena.¡±

    ¡°What about Duran?¡±

    ¡°He has time. Maybe he¡¯ll be religious when he¡¯s older.¡±

    He broke it open and offered me half. I kept my hands down. ¡°I¡¯m done with being a Paladin. I think I¡¯ve made that very clear.¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± He pulled back. ¡°My apologies. I¡¯ll just go give that gold coin back, then.¡±

    ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t say that.¡± I reached out and grabbed the half-oatcake. ¡°There¡¯s apple butter if you want some.¡±

    I caught a half-smile on Apis¡¯s face as he turned back towards the woods. The apple butter was very good. I needed to go thank that girl. Profusely.

    ¡°How much for the rest of the oatcakes?¡± Herminius was wearing some sort of leather cap and what looked like leaves stuck into his collar. ¡°A group of us are going to try and go hunting.¡±

    I stared at him for a moment. ¡°For what?¡±

    He hefted the shiniest crossbow I¡¯d ever seen. ¡°Deer, of course!¡±

    ¡°¡­.Just give me what you can,¡± I said. I flipped a few oatcakes over and glanced at the rest of the camp. Sure enough, a group was gathering. ¡°You really think it will take that many of you?¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll get the deer. The rest can carry it back.¡±

    I watched him struggle to carry the oatcakes. They were burning his hands. ¡°Good luck,¡± I said. ¡°Best wishes.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you the best of the meat!¡± He offered.

    I squinted at the rest of the pilgrims. Impossible to tell if they were competent or not. Hopefully someone would take the crossbow from him before he shot something important.

    ¡°Did he take all the oatcakes?¡± I jumped nearly a mile. It was the girl from last night. ¡°Where¡¯s the other ones?¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± I said, a little nervous. ¡°Good morning, Katla.¡± I offered her an oatcake.¡°Duran¡­¡±

    Wait. Where was Duran? It had been suspiciously quiet. I¡¯d even managed a full conversation with Apis, and that never happened. I glanced over my shoulder. Apis was still extremely gone.

    ¡°Watch the fire,¡± I said. She was already partway through an oatcake. ¡°I have to check on something.¡±

    She made no comment. I was already running.

    Sure enough, in the mess of pilgrims- mostly middle-aged men, probably from the Capital, although there were a few that looked like they had seen trees before- there was Duran, sword and all.

    I dragged him out. ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re hunting!¡± He said. ¡°We¡¯ll get a deer! And then have deer stew!¡±

    ¡°Absolutely not,¡± I said.

    Behind us, there was a twang. I didn¡¯t look to see what had gone wrong with the crossbow. ¡°You,¡± I said, ¡°Are my apprentice. You stay with me.¡±

    ¡°But we aren¡¯t doing anything,¡± he said. ¡°You already made the oatcakes. What else is there to do?¡±

    I had to think of something. I didn¡¯t trust Herminius with that crossbow as far as I could throw him. ¡°We¡¯re investigating the doors of the temple, of course,¡± I said. ¡°You think I was going to just give up?¡±

 8. When a Door Closes

    Well, it was certainly a door. ¡°Yes,¡± said Apis, pushing on the door once, twice, a third time. ¡°Definitely locked.¡±

    After a moment of thought, I kicked it. Afterwards, I stumbled back, hissing in pain. ¡°So,¡± I said, once I¡¯d recovered sufficiently. ¡°Solid wood.¡±

    ¡°It didn¡¯t even sound hollow,¡± said Duran, from where he was thumping at the edges with the hilt of the sword. ¡°Do you think the stone actually collapsed behind it?¡±

    ¡°Of course not!¡± Durandus the first couldn¡¯t be dead. Not in something as silly as this. ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯s just locked.¡± I stumbled up, straightening my back.

    Around us, the activity of the camp had calmed a little for the afternoon. Herminius¡¯s hunting expedition was somewhere in the woods, and Katla had disappeared for her own business; a few people were cooking or hiking, and a set had begun trying to climb the temple walls. We were the only ones foolish enough to try the front door.

    ¡°Maybe a bee could go in and investigate.¡± Apis had his eye to the keyhole. The door was the only part of the temple that had been decorated at all. It was elaborate. A massive bronze cast of a squid took up most of the front door, with one tentacle curling around a keyhole. There was no knob.

    ¡°And then what? Will it tell you what to do?¡±

    Apis paused. ¡°Well,¡± he said, ¡°Maybe we could pray to Andrena, and she could speak to the bee for us?¡±

    ¡°Is that some sort of violation, using another goddess¡¯s sacred animal to break into a different temple?¡±

    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be¡­ breaking in,¡± he said. ¡°More like¡­ traveling. In a way Teuthida wouldn¡¯t prefer.¡± Apis paused, then scratched at his stubble. ¡°Well, maybe it wouldn¡¯t be advisable. Is there another door, perhaps?¡±

    I stepped back and stared up. And up, and up. The walls had seemed short and stumpy from far away, but now they seemed to go on forever. Uneven cobbles of gray stone stacked upon each other. Unadorned, with barely enough grout to keep them on. Rough merlons were the only effort made at decoration. I thought I could see the faint shape of carved squid at the top of each, but they were so well-weathered it might have been particularly weathered stones.

    Next to us, I heard a shout as a rope went over one of the merlons. The girl who had given me apple butter was tightening her rope, beginning to climb. We all stopped to watch her. She was gaining height very quickly, in fact. She was a quarter of the way up, then halfway- a good way off the ground, hovering over a strand of the stream as it burbled out of the grates at the base of the tower.

    Then, with a great cracking, the merlon began to fall. I felt myself yell as one person with Apis, both of us jumping forward to no effect. I saw her almost frozen in free-fall, hair flaring out. Then she was gone, a splash in the river.

    I dashed forward, heart in my throat. Had I just seen a girl die? I couldn¡¯t have. She had given me apple butter. Andrena, I thought, desperate. Do me a favor here. Can you do anything about falls?

    Across the river, I could see another figure dashing out of the trees, dark cloak a bright contrast agains the fall trees. Katla.

    I was halfway into the river, legs soaked, before there was another splash. She was swimming.

    ¡°Ugh,¡± said the girl, spitting out water.

    I was already reaching forward and grabbing the back of her neck like a kitten, throwing her towards the side. Apis knelt at her side, shaking her shoulder.

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°Are you well? Can you feel every limb?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I feel them.¡± She rolled onto her back, coughing. ¡°Ugh! I thought these were well-built. Did anyone get that rock?¡±

    ¡°We were worried about you.¡±

    She shoved herself up onto one elbow. ¡°Don¡¯t be! I want to see what the carvings are if I couldn¡¯t make it up.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be silly,¡± I said. ¡°Why would we have been looking for a boulder when you could have-¡±

    ¡°Got it!¡± Duran shouted. We all turned. He was midway in the river, trousers soaked. He huffed with exertion. ¡°I can¡¯t lift it, though. Can I have some help, Madam Elysia?¡±

    I closed my eyes. I exhaled, slowly. ¡°You¡¯re sure you¡¯re well?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I won¡¯t be climbing again soon,¡± she said. ¡°But I actually wasn¡¯t that high up. I¡¯ll be well enough.¡± She reached down, pressed at her ankle with a grimace. ¡°I probably won¡¯t be walking that well, either.¡±

    Well, I was a cook, not a medic. I left her to Apis¡¯s concoctions and went to go grab Duran¡¯s rock. Across the river, Katla had disappeared.

    <hr>

    ¡°Wow,¡± said the girl. She was having trouble keeping her eyes open. ¡°Is that really medicinal?¡±

    ¡°Of course it is,¡± said Apis, offering her another jar of mead. ¡°I put herbs in it.¡±

    I gave it a suspicious glance. He¡¯d definitely put¡­ something in it. I thought I recognized mint, rosemary, and some of my pepper for pickling. ¡°Did you just raid my spice cabinet?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s for an important purpose!¡± He offered the mead to me. ¡°You injured your foot too, did you not? You should have some too.¡±

    Duran leaned in. ¡°Can I?¡±

    He pulled it back. ¡°You don¡¯t need medicine. Save it for those who do.¡±

    I wrinkled my nose. ¡°I¡¯ll go with the gods. Surely they can help me more than¡­ that.¡±

    Apis was good with mead when it was just mead. I didn¡¯t know how the girl was keeping the rest of it down. ¡°Do you have other family with you?¡± I said, adjusting the boulder next to her on the bank of the stream. We hadn¡¯t managed to move her; Apis had just been retrieving ¡®medical supplies¡¯ as time went on. ¡°Someone who might be able to help carry you back to your tent?¡±

    She hiccoughed and shook her head. ¡°Nope! No one! Came here on my own!¡± She laughed. ¡°Oh, my Pa¡¯s gonna be sooooo mad.¡±

    Apis offered her more mead. I pushed his hand down. ¡°Does your Pa have a name?¡±

    She shook her head more violently. ¡°You want some apple butter?¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t bribe your way out of us knowing your family.¡± I squinted. Now that I was speaking to her, she looked more and more familiar.

    Duran beat me to it. ¡°Wait. Your Pa, he has the orchard north of the One Horse?¡±

    She stopped laughing. ¡°You know the One Horse?¡±

    I couldn¡¯t help but be insulted. ¡°Know it? I maintained that place for fourteen years!¡±

    Duran, notably, didn¡¯t say anything. He returned to trying to clean off the boulder with river-water, a task that was apparently very absorbing.

    ¡°Oh.¡± She shrugged. ¡°I thought that place was for half-rate pilgrims and drunkards.¡±

    At this, Duran looked up. ¡°Hey! We had bards come by, and politicians. And a horse-trader, once!¡±

    ¡°Well, the oatcakes were good,¡± I said. I adjusted the boulder. ¡°Did you want to look at your rock, or not?¡±

    I¡¯d traded with her father for apples once or twice, when money had been good. Of course, I didn¡¯t remember her being this old; last time I¡¯d met her, she¡¯d been about as tall as my shoulder and running wild in the trees. Farmer Tullio¡¯s kid, although I had never thought her name was important. She wasn¡¯t the one with the apples.

    ¡°Oh, yes!¡± She half-stumbled up onto her ankle, clearly remembered it was broken, and then leaned over to stare at the rock with a wince. ¡°Huh,¡± she said. ¡°I thought it would be¡­ better.¡±

    ¡°Maybe it was more squid-ish before,¡± said Duran.

    She squinted over at him. ¡°Who asked you?¡±

    He puffed up his chest, but before he could respond, I cut in. ¡°Look,¡± I said, ¡°You¡¯re clearly injured. We¡¯ll take you back to your tent, leave you with some¡­. medicine, and then we¡¯ll resume our investigation.¡±

    She shoved the boulder over, inspecting the bottom. ¡°Ugh,¡± she said. ¡°I just wish I¡¯d been able to get up there. I was sure there¡¯d be a skylight or something.¡± She scratched at her chin. ¡°I was going to try the grates next, but it looks like that¡¯s going to be a loss.¡±

    I propped her up, then looked at the grates. Solid iron. A solid flow of water. ¡°Can you breathe water?¡±

    She shrugged. ¡°I have to get in.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to be a priestess,¡± she said, and folded her arms. ¡°Obviously. Now help me get back to my tent, please.¡±

    With everyone¡¯s powers combined, we just barely managed to get her back to her tent as the sun began to lower overhead. A day wasted, with nothing gained. I sighed, watching her fall asleep. ¡°A priestess, huh?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯d be better than the one they have,¡± said Duran. I glanced over.

    ¡°She didn¡¯t even recognize you!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a useless point, anyway,¡± said Apis. ¡°No one can go in. Unless her temple is fixed, Teuthida will be stuck with the priestesses she has. They all have to finish the trials here.¡± He leaned over and closed the tent on the girl. ¡°Unfortunately enough.¡±

 9. Uphill Battle

    I wanted to give up.

    Another day had dawned, we¡¯d decided to re-attempt our exploration around the temple, and we¡¯d gotten exactly no-where. Maybe the girl was right, and we ought to try breathing underwater after all. I adjusted my grip on the abyssal blade (I didn¡¯t trust anything that powerful to be left back at camp, unguarded) and tried not to sigh out loud. Maybe I should just pay the tax on the inn.

    ¡°Surely there¡¯s another door somewhere.¡± I was tramping through layers of leaves where they¡¯d been blown up against the temple. Ahead of me, Duran was on his knees, ear to the stone of the temple. I¡¯d lost Apis. He had wandered out into the forest, his jacket blending in well with the trees. He might never come back- he¡¯d said something about trusting in Andrena.

    Duran got up, leaves crunching. ¡°Madam Elysia, I¡¯ve discovered something!¡±

    He should never have spent so long talking to the soldiers that came through the restaurant last month. ¡°You can just say whatever you found,¡± I said. ¡°We aren¡¯t that formal.¡±

    ¡°The temple appears to be stone! Really thick stone! I can¡¯t hear anything!¡±

    I resisted the urge to thump my head against the very thick stone. ¡°Thank you, Duran. Good work.¡± I adjusted the sword. Why had I even taken it? I¡¯d felt uneasy after my dream, but now I just felt silly. This was nothing but a waste of time.

    He beamed.

    Behind me, the leaves crunched loudly as Apis emerged from the woods. There was a branch stuck in his hair. His cheeks were flushed. ¡°No sign of an exit tunnel,¡± he said. ¡°I think our best chance is the hut.¡±

    ¡°You mean¡­¡±

    We all looked up. And up. The waterfall just kept looking taller. ¡°Well.¡± I folded my arms and coughed. ¡°I mean, it can¡¯t be that difficult to climb up there. That old lady did it, didn¡¯t she?¡±

    It turned out that while he¡¯d been rummaging through the woods trying to find dry branches to throw in my cook-fire, Apis had also been looking for trails.

    ¡°It¡¯s just difficult to know what¡¯s a game trail and what¡¯s a human trail,¡± he said to me, on our fourth failure. I was heaving in breaths as quickly as I could. We¡¯d made it partway up the swell of the valley- far enough that we could see partway over the edges of the temple. It looked like more stone. Not an impressive view.

    ¡°Usually the human trails have humans on them,¡± I said.

    ¡°They have markers.¡± Duran piped up. He was above us, in the trees. I had been letting him range around freely as long as he was in shouting distance, in the vague hopes that it would wear him out a little.

    ¡°I¡¯m aware of the concept of trails, yes.¡± It would have helped if Apis looked even a little discomfited. I had lived more out of the city than he had- fourteen years- and yet he looked perfectly happy tramping through brush. Meanwhile, my cloak got caught on every third branch, and I¡¯d screamed at a partridge flying out of my way. In my defense, it had looked a little like a very small and terrifying bear.

    ¡°Little stacks of stones!¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s how it works.¡±

    ¡°I know there weren¡¯t any markers on this one, but I really thought it was promising,¡± said Apis. ¡°I apologize. I was too optimistic.¡±

    I would have to remember that one forever. Apis admitting he¡¯d been too optimistic.

    ¡°No!¡±

    We both turned to face Duran. He was pointing at something below my vision. I pushed a bush aside. ¡°A marker,¡± he said. ¡°Right here!¡±

    Four stones, stacked on top of each other. ¡°Maybe it was just a convenient landslide,¡± I said, after a moment.

    This couldn¡¯t possibly be the way. We all turned to stare at the rest of the trail. It looked like a goat¡¯s fever dream. It escaped out of the woods, just above us, into a field of scree and what looked like brush barely clinging onto the side of the hill. It didn¡¯t wind back and forth, like a few of the trails I¡¯d seen in my time. This trail didn¡¯t waste time like that. It went straight up.

    ¡°I think I see another stack of rocks,¡± said Apis.

    Well. I hadn¡¯t practiced for this. I had spent my life training to cook good food, not climb horrible cliffs. Still. If a goat could do it, I could too. ¡°Duran,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯re up first.¡±

    He probably wouldn¡¯t fall on me. Probably.

    By the time we made it halfway up, the sun was partway down in the sky. I turned with Apis to stare down at the valley. From here, it was even clearer. The circle of the temple had been carved partway into the valley, so that the waterfall would fall perfectly into a hole in the center. There was no other decoration on the roof. Just a few sparse windows. ¡°I wonder how they deal with the snow.¡±

    ¡°Presumably, Teuthida provides,¡± said Apis. ¡°Or maybe one of the small gods.¡± He had finally started looking tired after the third set of scree, where he¡¯d started sliding and I¡¯d had to grab him midway down. ¡°I can¡¯t remember which one is in charge of snow.¡±

    ¡°MADAM ELYSIA!¡±

    When Duran shouted down from the top of the hill, it echoed all through the valley. I winced. That was going to be a few annoyed neighbors, then.

    ¡°Yes?¡± I tried.

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    ¡°MADAM ELYSIA, IT¡¯S GREAT UP HERE! HURRY UP!¡±

    ¡°We need to find his father,¡± I muttered to a sympathetic rock near my foot. The rock didn¡¯t respond. ¡°I¡¯m not strong enough for this.¡±

    ¡°Or his mother,¡± suggested Apis. ¡°Is she not in the north somewhere?¡±

    I sighed and re-adjusted my cloak. ¡°Let¡¯s deal with one parent at a time.¡±

    By the time I made it to the ridge, my knees were trembling. I glanced down for a moment, then swallowed. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I¡¯m ever coming down.¡±

    ¡°Of course you are,¡± said Apis, taking my elbow and steering me along. ¡°You have to help supervise the bees.¡±

    ¡°Of course, how could I forget the bees,¡± I muttered.

    Somehow, we still weren¡¯t at the top. The ridge wound gently upwards, towards a cornice at the edge of the valley. Midway down the cornice, the waterfall emerged; to the left of it, a single hut and a tree beside it were outlined against the late afternoon light.

    I sighed. We couldn¡¯t retreat to the hut just yet. ¡°The waterfall is where they emerge, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    The plan had been to look inside the waterfall, and see if there was a way to swim down it. Now that I was up here, it was seeming like a worse and worse idea. I forced myself to take a few deep breaths before I crossed the ridge, the clear line of water resolving into the sheer drop of water.

    ¡°Well,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s a waterfall.¡±

    Beside me, Apis stared. ¡°Yes,¡± he managed.

    We both stared upwards. It was a sheer drop. ¡°I don¡¯t believe it,¡± I said. ¡°How? How could anyone get out of there?¡±

    ¡°I have an idea!¡±

    I jumped. Behind me, Duran had pulled out his cleaver. ¡°There¡¯s no meat to cleave,¡± I said. It made me nervous, him wielding blades like that. ¡°That can be put away. Now, please.¡±

    ¡°But it¡¯s helping!¡± He pushed it forward. The water parted.

    Beyond was darkness. ¡°Every waterfall has a hidden cave,¡± He said, satisfied. ¡°Everyone knows that.¡±

    I squinted. To get through the waterfall and into the cave, I had to step over slick rock. Below was a sheer drop. ¡°I¡¯d rather not.¡±

    ¡°She has a-¡±

    Before Apis could finish speaking, Duran had slipped past us. I sighed.

    ¡°We can¡¯t let him go alone.¡±

    Apis turned to stare down the cliff.

    ¡°Don¡¯t look down,¡± I said. ¡°That makes it worse.¡±

    I clenched my fist. I unclenched it. I¡¯d climbed all the way up here. Was I going to give up at the very last moment?

    ¡°I should have given up,¡± I said, kicking a rock.

    The cave was wet. It was dark. It was small. It was surrounded by shaded boulders. I was sure one of them had a concealed entrance, but we¡¯d spent the better part of an hour knocking on them with every implement we could find.

    If there was a way to break in, I couldn¡¯t find it. I resisted the urge to slam my forehead against a boulder. They were all slick with moss and something slimy that liked the dark. I didn¡¯t want it on any more of my skin than necessary.

    Behind me, Apis threw something from the waterfall. We all listened. There was no splash at the bottom.

    ¡°There must be a way down,¡± He said. ¡°There must! They emerge from here, yes?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what the hut is for,¡± said Duran. Out of respect for the knives, he¡¯d started prying at the boulders with the recipe book. He was making no progress.

    ¡°Then we must be able to go the other direction.¡±

    I slumped against the nearest boulder. ¡°Or they anticipated this, and they built it so you can¡¯t go backwards,¡± I said. ¡°Everyone down there is trying to get in. You think none of them tried this?¡±

    The despair had been building within me, slowly but surely. What if our best hope was to wait for Durandus I to succeed?

    We¡¯ll be here forever, then.

    The silence echoed in the cavern. I had made too many good points for any of us to contradict me. Even Duran stopped thumping at the boulders with his book.

    ¡°We should go speak with the people in the hut,¡± said Apis, after a moment. ¡°I¡¯m sure they have some ideas.¡±

    I lifted up a hand and pulled some moss off of my cloak. It squished unpleasantly.¡°There had better be food in there.¡±

    When we finally made it to the hut, Duran had beat us there, already peering in a window. They had even managed to bring glass up here. I stared at the carved squid doorknocker. ¡°Did they not let you in?¡±

    ¡°I was waiting for you!¡± He turned so quickly he nearly overturned. ¡°Please let¡¯s go in, though. They have stew!¡±

    I knocked. When no one opened, I knocked again. At my third knock, the door swung open.

    ¡°Ah, now, no need to rush.¡± A younger woman, with pale hair drawn back so tightly it outlined every part of her skull. She reminded me of a hunting dog the way her whole body pointed to what she faced. ¡°Three of you? For dinner?¡±

    ¡°If we may,¡± I managed. ¡°It was¡­. A difficult trip up.¡± Not to mention the morale-crushing time behind the waterfall.

    ¡°So you came up the valley.¡± Her mouth narrowed. ¡°Well. Come in.¡±

    The door slammed behind us. I sighed, enjoying the warmth.

    ¡°Thank you for letting us in,¡± said Apis, holding out a hand for my cloak. I was already pulling it off, along with the two jackets I had stacked underneath. They had it roaring hot in here- although where they were getting the firewood from, I had no idea. Two figures were huddled next to the fire; one stirring the embers, one wrapped in a blanket. The pale woman who had opened the door had gone to a set of hooks on the wall, where she was removing a mug. ¡°Stew? For all of you?¡±

    ¡°Yes please!¡± That was from Duran, who had made it a record time before stepping in. ¡°It smells really nice! Did you add fresh herbs?¡± he added, because we¡¯d been trying to work on manners.

    ¡°Fresh herbs?¡± One of the lumps next to the fire moved and turned. It was the woman from earlier. She laughed. ¡°From where? They¡¯re dried, child.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± He took the mug and held it for a moment, staring into the depths. I took two and handed one to Apis, then got as close as I could to the fire before collapsing- elegantly- to the ground. I was never going to hike again.

    The first taste of the stew was a revelation. I managed to make some noises of appreciation around the broth. ¡°You manage to make this? All the way up here? How do you bring it all up?¡±

    ¡°Oh, there¡¯s some decent hunting around here,¡± said the younger woman. She pointed at something on the back of the door. I turned to see another crossbow, this one well-maintained.

    I frowned. I had never heard back from Herminius about his hunting expedition. That was¡­ concerning. I took another gulp of stew and decided I would deal with it tomorrow. If we ever made it down the hill.

    ¡°So you¡¯ve been here a while?¡± I managed, once I felt human again.

    One of the old women next to the fire turned to look at me, flames bright in her eyes. ¡°Oh, yes! Since before the temple collapsed. Months, actually. But we always knew it would take my aunt a good long time to complete the trials.¡± Her eyes glanced at the sword, then at me. ¡°You¡¯re here to fix it, then?¡±

    I paused with my mug halfway up to my lips. I¡¯d already finished half of the serving of stew. ¡°Sorry?¡±

    ¡°I apologize for not greeting you properly before, My Lady. I didn¡¯t see your sword!¡±

    She reached forward and ladled another serving of soup out of the kettle, then held it out. Automatically, I held out my mug- it clinked into Apis¡¯s, as he did the same thing. She served both of us more. Next to me, Duran was drinking stew so rapidly I wondered if he¡¯d even heard the conversation.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a lady,¡± I managed, two swallows of stew later. ¡°I¡¯m just-¡±

    ¡°A Paladin,¡± she said. She re-adjusted herself in front of the fire. ¡°Trust me, I know. But the proper title is Lady, at least for those of us that still remember Paladins properly!¡±

    I glanced again at the door. Was it too late to run?

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry.¡± Her hand landed on my shoulder. ¡°We¡¯ll keep it quiet.¡± Her eyes were bright with mischief. My worry increased exponentially. ¡°I know a thing or two about Paladins.¡±

    ¡°¡­Do you,¡± I managed.

    ¡°Of course I do!¡± She nudged the abyssal blade with her toe, rocking in her chair. ¡°My aunt¡¯s the one that last wielded that blade in battle! It does my heart good to see it again.¡±

 10. God in Hibernation

    It felt like the world slowed for a moment. I stopped with the stew halfway to my lips. ¡°Sorry,¡± I said. ¡°I must have misheard. Your aunt? I thought all of the Paladins died!¡±

    ¡°Oh, common misunderstanding.¡± She offered the ladle. ¡°More stew?¡±

    I pulled back. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Had she put something in the stew? Was I hallucinating?

    ¡°So she was a Paladin of Andrena?¡± That was Apis, speaking where my mind had failed.

    The old lady shook her head. The others in the cabin were silent. Just watching. Had I walked into a trap? Some sort of elaborate joke on me? ¡°Of course not. Is that who recruited all of you? Andrena?¡±

    When I didn¡¯t respond, she leaned back, chuckling. ¡°What times we live in, for Andrena to have a Paladin. But I suppose that¡¯s who¡¯s left. No, no. My auntie was a Paladin of Ursus. A proper Paladin!¡±

    ¡°But then, how did she-¡±

    ¡°Well, he left, of course. Unfortunate, but who knows what motivates the gods. Back in the day, he loved war nearly as much as Cabellus!¡± I stared at her. She stirred the stew pot. ¡°What did you think happened? My auntie never wanted to speak about it. Said it was the worst day of her life.¡± She shrugged. ¡°Maybe he just didn¡¯t want to be on the losing side.¡±

    ¡°But-¡° I¡¯d always thought something else happened. Something major, something horrible. For every Paladin to lose their powers- to no longer be able to banish souls, to punish those unworthy of the gods? That was horrifying. It had lost us the empire. Changed the country from the beating heart of the world to just an appendix.

    She was blaming it on hibernation? ¡°He would abandon people just because he might lose a war? They were his believers! His Paladins dedicated their entire lives to him! When he left¡­¡± I didn¡¯t know how to finish the sentence. Who knew what Paladins, in the height of battle, had actually been capable of? Rumor spread faster than truth. I¡¯d heard of strength large enough to bend steel, of hands covered in fire. Of people splitting souls and casting them into the stars with their bare hands.

    In my experience, mostly Andrena just yelled at me and then ignored me afterwards. I wouldn¡¯t mind some otherworldly strength. Or a few bees, at least. Did the hive count?

    ¡°Well, who knows what the gods think,¡± she said. She reached for a fire poker. ¡°But I¡¯m glad to see the old blade is being used again. It wouldn¡¯t let itself be drawn unless a god approved of you.¡±

    At that, I glanced at Duran. He had drawn the blade. Did the gods approve of him?

    Maybe the sword was broken.

    I tried to refocus. ¡°If your auntie was a Paladin of Ursus, why is she in a temple of Teuthida? Isn¡¯t that a betrayal?¡±

    ¡°Well, he never came back, did he?¡± She reached over for a shaker of herbs, tapped a few more into the stew pot. After a moment of thought, she reached for a flask and uncorked it, offering it to me. I declined. Apis took it and took a generous swig. ¡°Auntie wanted to make sure she¡¯d dedicated her soul to someone before she went. Although I told her- you¡¯re still young yet! Wait a few more years! He might wake up, and then you¡¯ll be stuck with the smell of squid on you for your time in the fields of the dead!¡±

    ¡°Mmm-hmm!¡± Chimed in the other figure, who still hadn¡¯t spoken. When it moved, I realized it was an ancient man. He had about two strands of hair left and a massive mole next to his nose, giving him the appearance of a statue more than a person. He was more blanket than man. ¡°Can¡¯t believe she dragged us all the way up here. We should have told her to use up her fool¡¯s errand on her own.¡±

    ¡°Well, love, I couldn¡¯t just let her do it by herself. What if she got lost?¡± The old woman waved the ladle.

    Next to the door, the younger woman stepped a little closer to the crossbow. I looked in between them. ¡°Is this¡­ your daughter?¡±

    ¡°Apprentice,¡± said the woman. ¡°We¡¯re locksmiths.¡± She nodded to the woman. ¡°She¡¯s been with us ever since she was a little girl! Twelve, weren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Thirteen.¡± The woman folded her arms. ¡°You should go to bed, mistress. You know you were saying you felt sleep deprived after the cold last night.¡±

    ¡°Oh, let me have some fun. No one comes to visit, lately!¡± The woman twisted her back. There was a set of pops loud enough to tune out the fire.

    I perked up. ¡°A locksmith? We were looking at the boulders, but¡­¡±

    The woman shook her head. ¡°No lock,¡± she said. ¡°Wrong end of the door. Better try the front side.¡±

    ¡°We already gave our equipment to the last girl that came up to visit,¡± said the old man. He held out liver-spotted hands to the fire. ¡°But you should tell her we offered you as traveling companions. No one could turn down a Paladin!¡±

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    ¡°The last girl?¡± I frowned. ¡°The one that wants to be a priestess?¡±

    ¡°No, no, the other one.¡±

    Duran perked up. ¡°The one with the group of nobles?¡±

    ¡°Oh, of course not! Who do you think we are?¡±

    ¡°Katla? The one with the cloak and the sword?¡±

    The woman nodded. ¡°She seemed like a real straight-forward girl,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll be happy to help you.¡±

    <hr>

    I was cold. My knees were scraped. I was losing patience.

    ¡°What do you mean, we can¡¯t be part of it?¡±

    ¡°I said what I said.¡± Katla scowled. ¡°I can¡¯t be giving out help to every person that asks for it! What kind of bleeding heart do you think I am?¡±

    ¡°They said you should help us. Are you going to disrespect your elders? Besides, we¡¯re not just anyone. Don¡¯t those oatcakes mean anything to you?¡±

    ¡°Anyone can make oatcakes.¡± She folded her arms. ¡°No. And I mean it.¡±

    She turned on a heel and stalked away. I could hear her jacket clinking. ¡°That- that-¡± I clenched my fists. ¡°I wish I could just use the abyssal blade,¡± I said. ¡°She doesn¡¯t need her soul.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you don¡¯t mean that.¡±

    I jumped half out of my boots. ¡°Stop walking so quietly.¡±

    Apis was standing next to me, blinking innocently. I needed to put a bell on him. ¡°If we start being helpful to her, maybe she¡¯ll come around,¡± he said.

    ¡°With what time? We have to be out of here before it gets too cold for the bees.¡±

    We both turned to watch the cart. Duran was approaching the hive with a bowl of sugar-water, a basket over his head. As we watched, he tripped over the edge of the cart and nearly toppled into the hive. I felt Apis wince more than saw it.

    ¡°I admit,¡± he said, ¡°The timing is not ideal.¡±

    ¡°Do you think she likes mead?¡±

    We both turned to watch the dark cloak as it disappeared around the temple. ¡°I don¡¯t think she drinks. She seems very¡­. sober. And directed.¡±

    ¡°She likes oatcakes, but not that much,¡± I said. ¡°So that¡¯s my contribution already failed.¡±

    ¡°She definitely doesn¡¯t approve of the sword,¡± Apis added. ¡°We could tell her that you¡¯re a Paladin?¡±

    We watched as a flock of birds went flying, scared off by her stomping. ¡°I don¡¯t think that would help,¡± I said.

    Behind us, Duran popped up. He pulled the basket off of his head, straightening his cloak. ¡°Should we check on Vita¡¯s ankle? While we¡¯re doing nothing, I mean.¡± I only spotted one bee sting. I was, reluctantly, impressed.

    ¡°Who¡¯s Vita?¡±

    He frowned at me. ¡°She was our neighbor for years. You really never introduced yourself?¡±

    Vita, it turned out, was doing badly. She was halfway out of her tent, on her elbows, and yelling at Herminius about bedside manner.

    ¡°I really think we could do something about the crossbow,¡± he said. ¡°Maybe you could use it to hold yourself up-¡±

    ¡°I am not doing anything with that crossbow,¡± she said. ¡°Are you actually mad? I don¡¯t want to die.¡±

    Herminius was flushed and, for once, looked unsure. ¡°But- well, if you don¡¯t want to splint your ankle, what am I meant to do?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she said. ¡°Get me out of this tent, at least! I¡¯m sick of it.¡±

    Herminius was at a bad angle. As we approached the tent, he pulled Vita up, then lost hold of her and dropped her entirely. The pained howl echoed through the entire camp. I ran the rest of the way.

    ¡°Look,¡± he said, at my expression, ¡°It wasn¡¯t on purpose.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t do anything,¡± I said. I pushed my sleeves up. ¡°We can move her.¡±

    When two people were working together, it didn¡¯t take much to move Vita. In a few moments, she was next to the fire, gingerly working at her ankle and trying to untie her boot. ¡°It swelled up like nothing else after I went to bed,¡± she muttered. ¡°I think it¡¯s only a sprain. But I can¡¯t get it off.¡±

    Duran held up a knife. I pushed it back down. ¡°We¡¯ll douse it in water,¡± I offered. ¡°The leather should swell.¡±

    I watched over her shoulder for Katla as we worked at the leather, inch by aching inch, but the other woman never emerged.

    When Vita¡¯s foot was finally free- and in a clean sock- I leaned back, sighing.

    ¡°Any chance of that medicinal mead?¡± she said, hopeful. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what it did, but I sure felt better afterwards.¡±

    ¡°It depends on if you¡¯ve got anything in exchange.¡±

    ¡°All I¡¯ve got is apple butter,¡± she said. She scratched at the edge of her ankle, then winced. ¡°Ugh. What a waste of a trip! I can¡¯t even become a priestess, my ankle is wrong, and I¡¯m almost out of apple butter.¡± She looked up, eyebrows wiggling. ¡°Unless you¡¯ve got a way in? Surely I¡¯ve earned a way onto the expedition.¡±

    Shameless. ¡°Aren¡¯t you, what, ten? Shouldn¡¯t you be trying to go home, now that you¡¯re hurt?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sixteen. I¡¯ve got the right to do what I want. And I¡¯m not going back to that apple nightmare.¡± She slumped back on the log. ¡°You understand, don¡¯t you, Herminius?¡±

    Herminius had been poking at the embers, trying to get the fire going. It had died out even further under his ministrations. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You had your own career! You know what it¡¯s like to have goals.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± He paused. ¡°Well, actually, my father was a councilman, and his father before him¡­¡±

    ¡°Ugh! Everyone has such little imagination!¡± She threw up her hands. ¡°I suppose you haven¡¯t made any progress, either.¡±

    She gave us a cheeky glance. I looked away and resolved to tell her nothing.

    Duran perked up. ¡°We have! We know the people on top of the waterfall are locksmiths, and they gave their tools to Katla. But she won¡¯t let us on the expedition. She won¡¯t even take our food in exchange!¡±

    I exchanged a look with Apis. He half-shrugged at me. Fifteen, I reminded myself. Duran was fifteen.

    ¡°Great!¡± Vita leaned forward, clearly felt her ankle give way, and leaned back again. ¡°This is perfect! She¡¯s been trying to get some apple butter for ages, but she tried to knife me when I showed up so I¡¯ve been keeping it away from her! I¡¯ll give her some, but only if you let me come!¡±

    Herminius had stopped poking the fire. He was staring at us, clearly hopeful. ¡°And me, perhaps?¡±

    ¡°Oh, what have you done? I¡¯m helping!¡±

    ¡°Well, I offered them a place at my fire, the first night. And rabbits!¡±

    ¡°Rabbits that Katla trapped.¡±

    ¡°Look,¡± I said, before anyone else could put themselves on an expedition that might not even be happening. ¡°We¡¯ll go try the apple butter. But I¡¯m not guaranteeing anything. And if you come, you have to figure out splints or something. We¡¯re not carrying you the whole way.¡±

    Vita brightened at once. ¡°Great! It¡¯s a deal!¡±

    I looked between Duran and Apis. Surely one of them could get me out of this.

    Apis was looking in the trees, clearly searching for Katla. Duran just looked excited. I closed my eyes and sighed. In the course of a day, our group had nearly doubled in size. We needed to get in the temple before anyone else added themselves to the mess.

 11. Bribery

    Katla was on her knees with a pry-bar, trying to remove the bronze squid from the front door. Any other day, it would have been severely sacrilegious. In this case, it just seemed a little inefficient. She was clearly not making any progress. The door was covered in scratch marks from the pry-bar. The lock had been ignored. Had she already failed at using the lockpicking set? I stared for a moment before approaching. I took a deep breath. I would be pleasant. I would be approachable. I would get through that door, no matter what.

    ¡°Need some help?¡± I called, wading halfway through one of the streams that separated us from the main door.

    I saw her freeze. ¡°I don''t want to work with you.¡±

    I held up the apple butter. ¡°I come with a bribe!¡±

    I had thought Vita was lying- she was, after all, obviously desperate (and probably still drunk from Apis¡¯s ¡®medicine¡¯). Yet Katla actually hesitated.

    ¡°Is that-¡±

    ¡°Apple butter!¡± I shook it. ¡°It¡¯s only available for a short time! Let us on the mission, or I throw it in the stream!¡±

    Apis leaned in. ¡°Do we really have to throw it in the stream? It was very good.¡±

    I stopped yelling for long enough to mutter back, ¡°I¡¯m trying to get results, here.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll stab it, too!¡± shouted Duran. ¡°Stab it dead! While it¡¯s in the river!¡±

    I leaned over to him. ¡°Less enthusiastic. We¡¯re losing her.¡± Sure enough, she¡¯d gone back to trying to pry off the bronze squid. What was she trying to achieve? Angering the goddess enough she''d open the door just to stop it? I cleared my throat. ¡°Take it or leave it! This is a one-time offer! Vita was reluctant to let go of even this! Stock is low!¡±

    ¡°What do I care what a little girl thinks!¡± Katla snarled. But her hands loosened on the pry-bar.

    ¡°I bet you need help with that! Looks like you¡¯ll only be able to remove the squid if someone else holds it steady. Have you been trying to remove it all day?¡±

    ¡°None of your business!¡±

    ¡°Just because we all go inside doesn¡¯t mean we have to work together while we¡¯re in there. We only want you to help us on the first leg! We wouldn¡¯t even have to talk!¡±

    ¡°What do you know of the temple. For all you know, we¡¯d be stuck together.¡±

    ¡°Then I promise I¡¯ll do my best to stay away from you, Oh Lady Independent,¡± I said. ¡°You could eat your apple butter all alone.¡±

    For some reason, this at last convinced her. She dropped her pry-bar and met us where we were emerging from the stream. ¡°You promise you¡¯ll leave me alone once I¡¯m in there?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± I said. I held the apple butter back from her grasping fingers. ¡°You¡¯re not exactly friendly anyway. I just need past the locked door, and you¡¯re the only one with the tools for it.¡±

    Katla glanced over her shoulder to the squid, tentacle curled around the lock. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± she said, reluctant. She snatched the apple butter out of my hand and tucked it into her cloak. ¡°I do need help getting the squid off. If I get the door open, you¡¯ll get yourself through. I won¡¯t guarantee how long it¡¯ll stay open.¡±

    <hr>

    I drew the short straw. I was stuck with a pry-bar, avoiding eye contact with Katla, while Duran and Apis went to pack and inform the rest of our crew that we were descending into the temple as quickly as we could manage. The bronze made a horrible squealing noise as we tried to pry it off, aiming for tentacle after tentacle. This temple had clearly once been lovingly maintained. There were no spots of tarnish on the brass, other than a few edges that were clearly new. I aimed for the top of the squid¡¯s head, pry-bar dancing off.

    ¡°Try harder,¡± snarled Katla.

    ¡°Oh, thank you. Previously, I wasn¡¯t trying, but now I¡¯ll do my best.¡±

    ¡°Are you laughing at me?¡±

    ¡°I just think you ought to appreciate my help.¡± I smashed the bar into the bottom of the squid¡¯s head and finally found purchase. The metal squealed- it didn¡¯t come forward. It rotated sideways. I could feel tiny nails giving way as we pushed it away. Small cogs were being revealed, hidden behind the intricate carving. This was why she was prying it off, it seemed; the lock itself was too challenging for her, perhaps?

    ¡°You¡¯re the one that offered,¡± she grunted out. We were both pushing as hard as we could, fighting against the solid oak and metal. Another squeal of metal.

    It released all at once. I fell forward. Katla, under me, cushioned my fall. After a moment, I pushed myself up. I found myself strangely cheered. At least she was useful for something. Katla glared up at me, rumpled and glasses askew. ¡°You could have tried to fall elsewhere.¡±

    I rolled over and pushed myself up. ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind for next time.¡± Next time I break and enter, I¡¯ll make sure to ask someone else. ¡°Why did you even come here, anyway? You don¡¯t strike me as the¡­ religious type.¡±

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    She pushed her cloak back into order, the many pockets clinking loudly. ¡°I¡¯m here for a scientific investigation. I was separated from my group partway into the temple. I must rejoin them.¡±

    ¡°¡­oh. What, ah, kind of science?¡±

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t understand.¡± She pushed her glasses up, re-tied her hair, and removed a massive pouch from one of her pockets. How she kept that cloak on, I had no idea. With the removal of a tie, it unfurled to remove a variety of tools- locksmithing tools.

    ¡°You know how to pick locks?¡±

    ¡°It cannot be that hard,¡± she said, gazing down at the many tools. ¡°Now that I have access to all of the inner workings, be prepared to continue without your friends. I suspect that the door will close behind us shortly after we enter, and I will not wait for them once the door is open.¡±

    I stayed and watched as the sun rose from mid-morning to noon. She was still struggling with the tools.

    "I could give it a try," I offered.

    She used one of her hands to give me a rude gesture behind her back. If I had any skill in lockpicking, I would have taken them from her anyway and told her she was an insolent child for that matter. As it was, I just readjusted my cloak and squinted across the river. If she wanted to hurt her hands trying to pick the lock, she might as well. At least I''d only paid apple butter for the waste of time.

    ¡°Not, ah, going so well?¡± Apis had arrived with food for all of us and a bright smile. Katla gave him a scowl in return. At a scowl from her, he pulled me aside, offering a pickle and some honey-covered flatbreads from Duran, who had apparently stopped in their ¡®rushed packing¡¯ to cook. I took a bite of flatbread. It was actually edible.

    ¡°I can''t believe those people gave her their tools. I think she''s trying to bludgeon it from the inside.¡± I glanced over at where Katla was swearing under her breath. ¡°Do you know how to pick locks?¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°Herminius and Vita should be on their way. Maybe they know.¡±

    A nobleman and a farmer¡¯s daughter. The chances of either of them knowing were approximately zero. ¡°Well,¡± I said, ¡°At least we only wasted a jar of apple butter. Maybe we can try climbing into a skylight again tomorrow. Find some better rope.¡±

    I took another bite of flatbread. Behind me, Katla swore again- I was learning a lot of new words in the northern dialect- before there was a loud clicking and sliding noise. She shrieked. ¡°I got it!¡±

    ¡°You got it?¡±

    ¡°She actually got it?¡± Apis peered over my shoulder. The flatbread dangled loosely in his fingers; I rescued it before it fell into the dirt.

    ¡°She got it!¡± Duran jumped forward. ¡°Get everything! Let¡¯s go!¡±

    I turned, staring across the stream. ¡°What about the others?¡±

    ¡°Who cares about the others?¡± He grabbed at my elbow. ¡°We¡¯re going, aren¡¯t we?¡±

    Suddenly I was remembering all of our responsibilities. I hadn¡¯t expected this to work. ¡°What about the bees?¡±

    ¡°I left them with those students, the ones on a group trip.¡± said Apis. He leaned down to pick up a large backpack. He handed another to me. When had we gotten backpacks? Had I paid for that? ¡°They were excited about honey. I¡¯m¡­ fairly sure they won¡¯t be stung. A lot, anyway.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Besides, Faustina is there. She can supervise.¡±

    Well, that was reassuring.

    I glanced towards the stream again, then towards the door. Katla was already gone. She¡¯d taken the locksmithing tools with her. The door had slid sideways and back into the wall. It was making clicking noises. I swallowed. Beyond was only darkness. ¡°What about a-¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got the lantern!¡± Duran held up a very nice gas lamp. I recognized it from One Horse Inn.

    ¡°Did you steal that? Where were you even keeping it?¡± I should have supervised our cart more closely.

    "It''s not stealing if it''s my inheritance, is it?"

    Across the steam, two figures had appeared. On crutches, limping, was Vita. Next to her, seeming concerned, wearing a very fancy cloak and holding three bags, was Herminius.

    When I turned back to the temple, a sliver of the door had re-emerged. It was closing. Slowly, but surely. I could hear more clicking and, a little concerningly, what sounded like wood breaking. There was a creaking and a cracking that didn''t seem to be part of planned operations.

    ¡°Come on!¡± Duran dragged me forward. I hesitated, then glanced around. How could I slow it? My eyes stopped on the rounded merlon from Vita''s fall. It hadn''t been moved since our inspection the other day. It looked solid- and yet we might be able to roll it...

    ¡°Apis, some help here!¡±

    Apis, for his credit, realized what I was doing at once. With two of us helping, the merlon rolled. It took all of my effort to shove it forward, sticks cracking underneath the half-carved remnants of tentacles.

    With another cracking of wood, the door closed incrementally. The boulder made a loud, squealing, creak as the old cogs tried to crush it.

    The stone won. The door stopped moving.

    There was cracking. The door trembled. I could hear the clicking of gears, the pushing. The temple was dissatisfied.

    There was a snap of a match. Behind me, the lantern sprung to life.

    In front of us, only a narrow column of light remained. Herminius stepped through first, careful. Then he extended a hand and helped Vita through, her crutches unsteady over the obstacle.

    Below us were even paved stones. Beyond us were branching corridors. In the flickering lamp-light I could see a massive statue of a woman, her lower half a squid¡¯s tentacles. Her face looked judgmental, eyes half-lidded. Her hands were outstretched, like she was expecting a donation.

    ¡°Finally,¡± said Duran, lifting the lantern up so we could look at the maze further. ¡°A squid statue.¡±

    ¡°At least we have an escape route,¡± I said, looking between the statue and the sliver of sunlight that remained. I didn¡¯t like the chill of air that gusted out, the howling of wind that came from deeper in the temple. ¡°Weren¡¯t there tests we had to finish? Do you think those still work?¡±

    ¡°The maze should still work,¡± said Vita. ¡°It¡¯s just a test of intelligence. As for the inner two circles, those are secret. Only known to those who pass. So I suppose we¡¯ll find out!¡±

    I didn¡¯t like that. Did I really need to find Durandus the first? I turned back to the door, hesitating. It wasn¡¯t so bad outside. I could supervise the bees! Someone had to.

    As if it could hear me thinking, the merlon trembled. The cogs were trying to increment further closed again. I stepped forward like I could stop it, but my movement was useless.

    With further squealing, it rolled forward. Just a hair''s breadth. I put a hand out towards it like I could stop it. Beyond it, I could see trees waving in the wind. Autumn leaves waving. The hint of a blue sky. The merlon trembled once more.

    Why had we put something round to stop the mechanism?

    There was the sound of stone against wood, a creaking and a cracking. Then, like it had been released from a slingshot, the carved merlon shot out at top speed towards our ankles. I jumped. Duran dodged. Apis was already well clear, and Herminius was halfway down the hallway, inspecting the statue of Teuthida.

    The boulder rammed right into Vita¡¯s ankles. She went down like a sack of bricks with a solid thump and a groan. In front of me, the temple door slammed shut.

    There was no more sunlight. Only the flickering of Duran¡¯s lantern.

    ¡°At least there¡¯s stew waiting for us at the other doorway,¡± he offered.

 12. [Sidequest] Promotional Material

    ¡°Left.¡±

    ¡°No, the last turn was left.¡± Balbinus folded his arms. ¡°Who let you lead, anyway.¡±

    Camilla raised the lantern higher. ¡°Because the last time you led, we ended up in the spike pit!¡±

    ¡°Okay, and you almost got us into that hallway of snakes.¡±

    ¡°Snakes aren¡¯t always bad.¡±

    As they argued, they moved at a quick pace down the hallway. Balbinus would have felt better about it if he¡¯d known they were going in the right direction- or any direction at all. He would have even followed Camilla, if he¡¯d known she knew where to go.

    Unfortunately, he didn¡¯t.

    He hated this place. He hated the stones, he hated the sounds. The way the water trickled underneath their feet. The constant statues. The traps. The statues of Squid. He didn¡¯t even like squid.

    ¡°I¡¯m allergic to squid, you know,¡± he said, trying to keep up with Camilla. She walked quickly. As if they didn¡¯t need to inspect every turn, to make sure they wouldn¡¯t get lost!

    ¡°I know,¡± she said. ¡°You mentioned it. Two minutes ago.¡± She reached back and adjusted her hair. How could she be thinking about hair, in times like this!

    Balbinus reached up and straightened his hair, too. They were assistants to competing councilmen, after all. He couldn¡¯t be seen looking worse than Camilla.

    He lowered his hand. Wait- what was he thinking! The instant he got out of here, he was quitting!

    ¡°I can hear you thinking,¡± she said. She stopped walking and lifted the lantern, right in his face. ¡°Stop it. Stop whining, stop thinking about our bosses. We need to focus on the temple. Then, once we¡¯ve completed it, we can leave, and you can quit, and I can get my promotion.¡±

    ¡°Why are you the only one getting a promotion, here?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be the one getting a promotion because I got us out of the spike pit. Also, because my councilman is actually clever, and yours is an idiot who probably ran out of the temple the first chance he got.¡±

    Admittedly, she was right about Herminius. But she didn¡¯t have to say it.

    ¡°He was right to run!¡± She¡¯d already started walking away. She¡¯d even chosen a branch of the maze- turning right- without him! ¡°After that earthquake, he knew it was his only chance at life! He was helping out his constituents!¡±

    ¡°We both know you¡¯re the only one writing his motions.¡± She jumped over a trip-wire. He followed, slowly. How was she still so nimble? It had been months- well, a month and change. They¡¯d been reduced to living off of the food left as offerings in the palms of those squid goddess statues, and some of those biscuits were horribly stale. Not to mention the taste of the water trickling through the temple¡­.

    He shuddered. He¡¯d never get angry about the reduced-price wine they were offered at gatherings of the assistant¡¯s union again. At least that was fermented.

    ¡°So you like the motions,¡± he tried.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Oh, no,¡± she said. ¡°Uninspired, boring, in-the box completely and barely achieving anything. You just write what you think people will vote for.¡±

    ¡°Is that not the point?¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± she said. ¡°At least they don¡¯t have any mis-spellings.¡±

    She stopped. Anticipating another spike pit, Balbinus stopped moving, peering over her shoulder. His legs still ached from the climb out of the last one. He didn¡¯t want to fall in again. ¡°Is everything¡­¡±

    Camilla held up a hand. Their lantern flickered as she held it up. The oil they¡¯d found burned a strange color, blue at the edges- bright and hot. It made her face look strange as she peered around. ¡°Did you hear that?¡±

    ¡°Hear what?¡±

    ¡°Music.¡±

    They stood in silence for a long few heartbeats. This was it, Balbinus decided. She had finally lost her mind. All it had taken was some discussion of his completely normal motions.

    Then, just as he¡¯d given up on it completely, he heard it too. A few chords. ¡°Is that- a harp?¡±

    ¡°I think so,¡± she said. She lowered the lantern and cocked her head to the side. Balbinus was reminded of a hunting dog. ¡°I¡¯m finding that music,¡± she said. ¡°If we can find someone else-¡±

    All they needed was a clue. Someone who knew the secret. Someone who could get them out of here. ¡°If you think you can¡­¡± Balbinus said. For a while they¡¯d tried to follow the flow of water, but they¡¯d ended up going in circles. He wondered if this was another red herring.

    Camilla was off like a shot. It was all he could do to follow in her footsteps, jumping over trip wires and dodging iron plates in the ground. There was evidence of traps that had been thrown- they even had to jump over a spike pit. Camilla didn¡¯t slow, not once. She was on the hunt.

    The harp music got ever-louder. He thought he could make out the sound, from where it was filtering through the stone walls. Balbinus stopped, trying to catch his breath next to one of the endless statues of Teuthida. She stared at him, hands out for an offering and eyes blank.

    ¡°Is that," he huffed, barely able to breathe. ¡°A hymn?¡±

    ¡°Whatever it is, it¡¯s out of tune,¡± said Camilla. ¡°I thought it was a cry for help at first.¡±

    ¡°No, I think I can hear the words,¡± said Balbinus. ¡°It¡¯s Teuthida¡¯s Plea.¡±

    He didn¡¯t remember Teuthida¡¯s Plea having any minor chords, though. And it sounded like one of the harp¡¯s strings was broken. Not to mention the singing was¡­ he winced. It sounded more like shrieking.

    Camilla patted him on the back. ¡°Well? Are you ready to go? They might stop playing.¡±

    ¡°If I say no, will you stay?¡± He tried, but she was already gone. He pushed himself up and did his best to maintain a jog. Why hadn¡¯t he been trapped with someone else? Anyone else?

    Another few turns, and he was rapidly losing hope. ¡°It just sounds the same,¡± he tried. Camilla had her ear to the wall and was moving it to the right and left. They¡¯d come to another fork, both paths leading in the wrong direction. ¡°I really don¡¯t know if we can find them.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re in with us. I can feel it.¡± She pressed her ear closer to the wall. Her perfect hair had come undone, and her assistant¡¯s cloak was askew. Balbinus held back the instinct to fix it for her. ¡°Just a few more turns. We¡¯ll be there.¡±

    A few more turns, and the harp had changed from an ear-paining constant sound to a faint echo. Camilla clenched her fists. ¡°No!¡± She turned, kicked at the wall. ¡°We were close! I could feel it!¡±

    Balbinus backed up, hands out. ¡°Why don¡¯t we camp for the night,¡± he suggested. ¡°Tomorrow we could try going back. Go for a few more forks.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you see? There¡¯s no guarantee they¡¯ll keep playing. This is our one chance!¡±

    She stopped yelling, chest heaving, and Balbinus began to speak before he realized she was right. The sound was gone. ¡°Look,¡± he tried, but she¡¯d already stomped off and begun to spread out her cloak.

    ¡°There¡¯s always tomorrow,¡± he tried, but it sounded false to himself. He curled up against the wall, looking at a statue of Teuthida. ¡°I could use some help,¡± he told her. She had the flask of water.

    No reply. He began to say something about her needing to stop sulking before he realized her lamplight was gone, too.

    He froze. He turned.

    There was nothing but blank wall beyond.

    The maze continued. There was no Camilla. Only darkness.

    ¡°Camilla?¡±

    His voice echoed. There was no harp. There was no sound. He stumbled to the ground, began to feel for something- for anything. Had she stumbled onto an iron plate? Fumbled a trip wire? Even now, was she in a spike pit?

    It felt like hours passed. He found nothing. It was like within one moment and the next, she¡¯d just been eaten by the stone. Nothing remained.

    With nothing else to do, he sat down. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said, to the floor. ¡°I do think you should get a promotion.¡±

 13. Jumped Up Fish

    It didn¡¯t take long for me to realize I wasn¡¯t meant for mazes. ¡°I just wish it didn¡¯t all look the same,¡± I muttered, staring into another statue of Teuthida¡¯s eyes. She stared back. She looked, as usual, like a stone statue. I was getting very tired of stone women. ¡°Nothing to say for yourself?¡±

    ¡°I swear, this usually works,¡± said Apis. He ran a hand along the wall, frowning. ¡°That¡¯s the solution to every maze. You just take every left.¡±

    ¡°I thought that was the solution to get out. We¡¯re trying to get in,¡± said Vita. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s where you¡¯ve gone wrong. You can¡¯t go into this maze trying to solve it. You need to open your heart to Teuthida.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. We should look for tracks. I¡¯m sure my assistant has already solved this. He would have left evidence for me.¡± Herminius knelt to the floor and ran a hand along the stones. I stopped, mid-stride, so we wouldn¡¯t leave him behind, and tried not to roll my eyes too loudly. They were paving stones. What kind of tracks would this assistant have been leaving? Crumbs?

    ¡°Is this the one that didn¡¯t figure out you were running in time to follow you?¡±

    ¡°That was on purpose!¡± Herminius took the next turn at a fast clip, adjusting his cloak. ¡°Not that any of you would understand,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re all people of fortune. Following whatever you seek. Balbinus would never abandon me for anything so little as his own life. He¡¯s dedicated to the council, as am I. I must beat the temple and find truth before my idiot competitor gets there. Otherwise, how will anyone know that I¡¯m much more clever and powerful than Domitius?¡±

    This was met by a resounding silence.

    ¡°Anyway,¡± continued Herminius, ¡°He¡¯s very practical. He knows I pay his salary.¡±

    ¡°How many times do I have to tell you,¡± said Vita, ¡°It¡¯s not about beating the temple, it¡¯s about understanding Teuthida¡¯s mind! It¡¯s a conversation with her!¡±

    ¡°Weren¡¯t we just in this corridor?¡±

    We all turned to face Duran. He was pointing at the feet of the statue of Teuthida. I began to shake my head automatically. ¡°Of course not,¡± I said. ¡°There are dozens of those statues.¡±

    They were all nearly identical, too. We could nearly tell them apart by the tentacles, but-

    ¡°No,¡± he said, ¡°It is. Look-¡± he leaned down, pointing. Sure enough. ¡°There. The tentacle where someone etched in their initials.¡±

    L+L in a heart. I squinted in the light of the lantern. ¡°Weren¡¯t we only taking lefts?¡±

    ¡°I thought we were only taking every right, now,¡± said Apis.

    I frowned. ¡°What about ones with a middle corridor?¡±

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t that a coin flip?¡±

    ¡°I think we should go all-right, all the time,¡± said Duran.

    ¡°Why?¡± Vita leaned on one of her crutches, wincing. Her ankle must have been killing her. We had been walking for ages, with no rest.

    He shrugged. ¡°Left didn¡¯t work.¡±

    We had no other plan. We took the right path.

    ¡°So,¡± I said. ¡°What¡¯s our plan if we don¡¯t solve this in two days?¡±

    That was how much food we¡¯d brought, according to Apis. Two days worth of food. It felt a lot heavier now that I was carrying it. I was beginning to realize the level of horror. No exit plan. Just endless walls.

    You¡¯ve really done it now, Elysia. Andrena probably can¡¯t even help you at this point. I paused. Well, not that she ever helped. Then, just because I might as well, If you have a moment, Andrena, I could use a hand. Anything, really. Maybe a minor miracle? Just a hint? Maybe a sign? A map?

    A bee, even?

    ¡°Teuthida will provide,¡± Vita said, at the same time Herminius said, ¡°There are supposed to be re-supply chambers hidden throughout.¡±

    She turned, frowning. ¡°You¡¯re ruining the mystery.¡±

    ¡°Is it really a mystery? Everyone¡¯s meant to know that. Most people aren¡¯t able to carry in everything they¡¯d need,¡± he said. ¡°Although- well, everyone says the food and wood in those supply chambers is pretty low-quality. That¡¯s why I brought my own spices and supplies.¡±

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    He patted his pack. It clattered too loudly for me to trust it.

    ¡°Wait,¡± I said. ¡°Did you bring any actual food?¡±

    ¡°Vita said it first! Teuthida will provide. Besides, Balbinus should be in here somewhere.¡±

    I stopped walking. ¡°Absolutely not. You¡¯re just depending on us for this?¡±

    Vita opened her mouth, then closed it. I rounded on her. ¡°Not you, too?¡±

    She half-shrugged, as much as she could with the crutches. ¡°It¡¯s not like I can carry much!¡±

    To be fair, she was injured. Almost like it had been a horrible idea to bring her along into a test from the gods. I took a deep breath. I began to speak. Apis reached over and patted me on the shoulder. ¡°Elysia is just worried,¡± he said. ¡°She¡¯s very caring¡­about everyone¡­¡±

    ¡°I think someone should tell me what exactly the plan is, here,¡± I said. ¡°Because as far as I know, this is a bizarre test by a god with the brain of a squid, and relying on her for anything is a horrible idea.¡±

    ¡°We only have to last until the second ring!¡± Vita huffed.

    ¡°Second ring?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s like you didn¡¯t do any research at all,¡± she said. ¡°The outer ring is the maze. Obviously. To force you to look inwards, and seek Teuthida¡¯s help for the answers.¡± Or to drive you mad, it seemed. ¡°The second ring is the dark waters of Teuthida.¡±

    ¡°The swamp,¡± said Herminius.

    ¡°Some people call it the swamp,¡± she said. ¡°You can fish there. They keep it stocked, according to my auntie.¡±

    ¡°What about the third ring?¡±

    ¡°No one discusses it,¡± she said, nose up. ¡°It¡¯s secret.¡±

    ¡°So you don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°I have faith.¡±

    ¡°If Teuthida doesn¡¯t provide, you¡¯re not getting our supplies,¡± I said. I stormed down the corridor before anyone could reply to that, everyone following me at various speeds. I couldn¡¯t believe it. I should have forced my way into the packing. How had Apis allowed that? Wasn¡¯t he meant to be responsible?

    It was the priest in him, I was willing to bet. He¡¯d probably heard that Teuthida would provide and believed it.

    I was midway through stomping right at another fork when Duran pulled on my cloak. ¡°Madam Elysia,¡± he said. ¡°Look.¡±

    He was pointing at yet another statue. ¡°I don¡¯t see the difference.¡±

    ¡°Her hands,¡± he said. ¡°They¡¯re not in the same position.¡±

    He was right. Instead of her hands being out in supplication, they were pressed together in prayer. I shrugged. ¡°I suppose the artist felt like being creative for once.¡±

    ¡°Can we at least stop to look at it?¡±

    ¡°I-¡° I paused.

    ¡°Vita¡¯s having trouble,¡± said Apis. ¡°It might be good to slow down. Have a break for some water.¡±

    ¡°As long as she¡¯s not having any of my rations,¡± I said. Why not? It wasn¡¯t as if we were making any real progress. It was driving me mad, the endless same-ness of it.

    Vita did look bad as she collapsed at the foot of the statue, stacking her crutches and re-wrapping her ankle. Next to her, Herminius was re-sorting his arrows for the tenth time.

    It was left to me to follow Duran behind the statue, where he was pressing his hand against the stones as if he¡¯d find anything different.

    ¡°They¡¯re stacked too neat,¡± he told me, when I came to stare at him. Whenever he was quiet too long, I got a bad feeling about it. Duran wasn¡¯t meant to live unsupervised- even when I¡¯d taken custody of the abyssal blade.

    I stared for a moment. When I didn¡¯t see it, he pointed. Sure enough, the stones were stacked evenly in an archway, with cobbles filling in the middle- like someone had filled in an old doorway or oven with a new set of cobbles.

    ¡°Well,¡± I said, ¡°Even priestesses have to do repairs to their horrible, mentally taxing mazes eventually.¡±

    The ring of stones around the edge was strange; the one at the top, which looked like the keystone of a window was carved like a squid. At the midpoint of the arch, to either side, a pair of large stones had been set. It looked like someone had left before finishing their repair job. No grout filled in the space around them.

    Duran was poking them. They didn¡¯t wobble, but it still made me nervous. ¡°Why don¡¯t we leave before you wiggle something loose.¡±

    It had to be sacrilegious to break a temple, right?

    He reached up above him and shoved on the squid.

    With a grind of stone on stone, it pressed in. Like a stone button. In the same moment, there was a whiff of fast movement. Before I realized what had happened, I felt a sharp sting of pain on my left arm.

    In front of me, a dark space had opened up. The stones had swung open, revealing a void beyond. A door.

    I glanced down at my arm. A neat line had been cut in my cloak. Blood welled up underneath. Whatever it was had cut through the cloak, through my tunic, and down to my skin.

    Disbelieving, I turned to look at the statue. Behind me, there was a dart quivering, stuck straight into a tentacle. I glanced down at the floor. More had flung out, falling down on the floor. I hadn¡¯t even heard them fall.

    ¡°They came out of both sides of the doorway,¡± said Apis. I jumped. He needs a bell.

    ¡°Where did you-¡±

    He held up another dart. ¡°It¡¯s lucky you were the only one hurt. Vita was too low, and Herminius¡­¡±

    Herminus was dabbing dramatically at his face with the edge of his cloak. Apis leaned in. ¡°It had lost momentum by the time it got across the hall,¡± he said. ¡°There¡¯s no blood. Are you well?¡±

    I glanced again at the stone, disbelieving. ¡°There are traps?¡±

    I had expected some tricks. I hadn¡¯t expected this place to try and kill me. I wiped the blood off of my arm. ¡°That¡­ that¡­ that jumped up fish! How dare she!¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s not get worked up.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be as worked up as I please! She tried to kill me!¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± said Apis. ¡°It was only a small dart.¡±

    ¡°What if it had gotten me in the neck!¡±

    I took a deep breath. This was personal now. ¡°She thinks she can scare me off,¡± I muttered. ¡°We¡¯ll see about that.¡±

    ¡°I really don¡¯t-¡±

    I lost the rest of Apis¡¯s sentence as I turned and stormed after Duran, into the dark little room he¡¯d found. It was really more of a pantry-sized room. In a better life, I would have thought it was a good place to store pickles. There were shelves and shelves, as well as what looked like a set of bunks.

    Duran was sitting on one of the bunks, knees pulled up to his chest and lantern left on the floor. The light pooled around it, making the shelves look barren and sad. He pulled at the covers, looking more upset than I¡¯d ever seen him.

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing,¡± he said, as I stepped in. ¡°No treasure! No nothing! Just stupid mattresses and cobwebs!¡±

 14. New Faces, New Places

    I had tried a larger approach to the problem, attacking the maze blindly. Clearly, that had failed. This needed a more delicate touch. Before parts of me I actually cared about got removed via dart.

    As Duran pushed aside cobwebs, I stepped inside the small space, ducking my head. I ran my hand along the edge of the walls, squinting for any lines of inscription. The other temple in the Capital- as vastly different as it had been- had contained a secret passageway. Perhaps this would, too.

    Squids. So sneaky. Andrena wouldn¡¯t do something like that. At least¡­ I didn¡¯t think she would. I hadn¡¯t actually spent much time in her temples.

    I sneezed as I disrupted a little too much dust. Behind me, Duran had climbed up on a shelf to peer up at the ceiling. ¡°It¡¯s more rock,¡± he reported. ¡°I think there¡¯s a shell in it.¡±

    ¡°Good work,¡± I said.

    I scuffed my shoes along the floor, trying to find a pattern in the paving stones. They looked like most of the temple; well-rounded gray rock. Pale grout. Not even a squid carving among the lot. Had Teuthida really cheaped out on her temple? This was supposed to be the center of belief. Even if we were only in the outer ring, I thought it was strange that we hadn¡¯t seen more than rock and some statues.

    Well, and some darts. My hand went to my arm again.

    ¡°The mattresses look fairly well maintained.¡± Apis had come in behind us. He was fluffing one of the mattresses with what looked like genuine interest.

    ¡°I thought there was supposed to be hidden treasure,¡± Duran complained.

    Outside, I thought I could still hear Herminius wailing about his injuries. Something about it ruining his profile. Vita was suspiciously silent.

    Beyond Duran¡¯s shoulder, there was one wall I still hadn¡¯t inspected. I thought I could see an engraving. I squinted. There was something else, too. It looked like a shadow moving.

    I blinked. For a moment, there was a face looking out at me. A finger beckoning me forward. Then I rubbed at my eyes, and it was gone.

    Good going, Elysia. One day in a temple and you¡¯ve already lost your mind.

    I looked over my shoulder. Apis was looking in the same direction, but he didn¡¯t seem to have noticed anything. He was dusting off the mattress, whistling under his breath.

    I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Stone. Dust. Around me I could hear Duran chattering. Apis whistling. Outside, Herminius was complaining, and Vita was humming under her breath. Loud, the lot of them. We¡¯d never sneak up on anyone. There was a whistling of wind through the halls, and running water somewhere under my feet. The stone was cold underneath my hand.

    When I re-opened my eyes, there was no face in front of the back wall. Only the engraving. I must have imagined it. A long day and too much company. That¡¯s all.

    I still felt a little hesitant as I reached forward. The last time someone semi-transparent had appeared, I¡¯d been forced into duty as a Paladin. I had a distaste for the entire concept, even if this vision was entirely my imagination.

    Thankfully, my fingers only brushed stone. I ran them over the engraved stone, trying to figure out if there was a button I should press, or- I frowned. One of the tentacles was too long, wrapping around and over.

    It looped around itself and pointed¡­ to the right? I squinted. All I could see was the corner.

    Ah, well. Who was I to argue with a carved squid? I¡¯d already come this far. I crouched in the corner and began to press on stones at random. After a few minutes of failure, Duran came to join me. He didn¡¯t even ask what I was doing, which was concerning; he just started poking at the wall.

    When Apis came to join, and did the same, that was when I knew we were too far gone. ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to ask what we¡¯re doing?¡± I said, as I tried to wiggle a stone free.

    ¡°We¡¯re trying to find a secret door,¡± said Duran. ¡°Obviously!¡±

    Apis poked at a stone above my head. ¡°There must be more. Otherwise, why would this be here.¡±

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    As much as I wanted the stone carving to show me something, I was losing hope. I stood back and sighed, leaning back on one of the shelves. It had been a long day. All we¡¯d found was a half-rate storage room, already emptied-

    My arm fell underneath me. The shelf collapsed. Before I had fully understood what was happening, I was thumping sideways, into the wall. My shoulder lit up bright with pain.

    ¡°Elysia!¡± Apis grabbed my other shoulder, pulling me back. I stumbled.

    ¡°I am going to fry that squid in two layers of flour,¡± I muttered, ¡°With an egg and ale batter, and seven different spices.¡±

    I shook my hand off. I was trembling. I tried to look like I wasn¡¯t shot through with adrenaline. This was nothing. I had just fallen.

    I brushed my knees off, trying to seem casual. Duran pulled on my cloak. ¡°What!¡±

    ¡°Madam Elysia, where you fell,¡±

    ¡°Obviously a bad design. What did you expect?¡±

    ¡°Look!¡± He pointed. I turned.

    ¡°¡­oh.¡± It hadn¡¯t been a shelf. It had been a lever. Beyond, where it had been stone, the wall had opened up. Where my fingers had uselessly scrabbled against the wall, there was now an empty space. My mouth watered. I saw pantry-stable foods. What looked like pickled vegetables (hey! Wasn¡¯t she taking Andrena¡¯s spot?), fish in jars, and a sheaf of wood.

    ¡°We¡¯re back in business, boys.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°You.¡± We turned automatically. I reached for my sword. Herminius grabbed for the crossbow. Vita pulled up her crutches. In the doorway of the small alcove, hood up and spectacles reflecting her own lantern, was Katla. ¡°I thought you said you would take your own path,¡± she said.

    ¡°What?¡± I was the first one to recover from the shock. ¡°Excuse me. You¡¯re the one that ran into us.¡±

    ¡°You should be gone from here by now,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m inspecting the maze. You are finishing the temple, are you not? Why are you lingering?¡±

    ¡°Lingering?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s been a full day. Why are you still here?¡±

    This was just insulting. I stepped back and dropped my hand from the sword. ¡°If you don¡¯t have anything nice to say, get out or tell us how to get through this. We¡¯re solving it. At a normal pace.¡±

    She looked in between us. ¡°You¡­¡±

    ¡°Look,¡± I said. ¡°This is our-¡± I paused. How to even describe it? ¡°Our hole in the maze. Get your own!¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± she said. ¡°Since you¡¯ve requested my help, I¡¯ll guard you. But for tonight only.¡±

    Then, as if we¡¯d invited her, she put her cloak down, stepped past the statue, and came into our safe little hide-away. The gall! Before I could reach forward and throw her out, she reached into her pack and pulled out a rabbit.

    I decided I could forgive her. For now.

    ¡°How many of those did you keep?¡± I said, poking at the fire. Apis and I had scavenged some of the shelves for additional firewood, wanting to save the nicely stacked piles for a later emergency; Herminius had ¡®helped¡¯, which in his case had meant watching us and giving unhelpful advice.

    Vita was curled up in the corner, just watching. Apparently she was just here for ¡®theological support¡¯. I would let it pass as long as she was still injured.

    ¡°The rabbit won¡¯t keep past tonight,¡± said Katla. ¡°But I expect some of your rations in return. This is an exchange, after all.¡± She glanced up. ¡°Perhaps a flat-bread? To go with the apple butter?¡±

    Oh, she was bold.

    ¡°Duran,¡± I said. ¡°You heard the woman. Stop moping, start cooking. Remember when we made those flatbreads on sticks?¡±

    Duran pushed himself up from where he¡¯d been flopping all over the bed. ¡°What? I thought we were all going to die and it wasn¡¯t worth anything.¡±

    ¡°You should always be ready to cook,¡± I said. ¡°Especially when you¡¯re afraid for your life.¡±

    He looked like he wanted to complain, but I put on the pressure. ¡°It would earn you another recipe, if you could complete it in these conditions.¡± He brightened at that, flipping out of the bed and rooting through the bag. ¡°Um, am I allowed to use the flour?¡±

    ¡°Just some of it. As much as you think she deserves,¡± I said. I certainly wasn¡¯t going to offer any of the fish or vegetables. Those were the tasty stuff.

    He met my eyes and put some of it back. I smiled. Yes. He was doing very well as an apprentice.

    Across the fire, Katla was pulling various instruments out of her cloak and cleaning them with a cloth, then putting them back into a little case. I watched her for a while as Duran mixed his dough in a bowl, occasionally asking me for advice. I had expected not to recognize any of the tools. Strangely enough, I did.

    ¡°Why do you have lancets?¡±

    Her hands stilled. Before I could watch further, she began tying her bag up again. The many little glass vials went back into the case; everything was tied back and put into her cloak. ¡°I told you,¡± she said. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t understand.¡±

    ¡°Teuthida isn¡¯t the god of blood, is she?¡±

    I lost track of all the domains, but that didn¡¯t seem to fit with Teuthida. I supposed blood did flow like water. But if you had enough of it to be making that decision, surely it was Cabellus¡¯s problem?

    ¡°Do you want the rabbit, or not? It looks like your apprentice is finished with the flat-bread. Don¡¯t you cook anything yourself?¡±

    ¡°Duran manages well enough. Part of teaching is letting your students grow.¡±

    Sure enough, Duran had twisted the flatbread dough around the shaft of some of Herminius¡¯s overly-fancy metal crossbow shafts and it had crisped up pretty well.

    ¡°Very good,¡± I said. ¡°Unlike last time, kneaded perfectly. You can actually swallow it.¡± Last time it had been more like a bread-shaped rock. Useful as a weapon, not as food.

    Duran brightened. ¡°Do I earn the recipe?¡±

    ¡°Apis?¡± I finished my half, then handed it to Duran.

    Apis took a piece, then chewed thoughtfully. ¡°It¡¯s good,¡± he said, finally. ¡°Yes.¡±

    The rabbit was tasty, but anything would have been. As I watched the embers die, I kept an eye on Katla. She guarded her cloak jealously.

    Why did she want those lancets? Whose blood was she here to take?

 15. [Sidequest] Lost in Translation

    ¡°Are you done yet?¡±

    S¨®lveig ignored the question and cast her line again. Her pack sat beside her, her axe ready to go. The blade gleamed. If only she had some blood to whet it. She glared across the bog, where the third member of their group waited. He was splashing in the water again. Fool.

    ¡°You can¡¯t just give me the silent treatment,¡± said St¨¢li.

    ¡°I can do whatever I like,¡± she said. ¡°We are without our guide. We must guide ourselves.¡± She reeled in the line. ¡°Unless you would like to take charge? For once?¡±

    St¨¢li sighed. ¡°Without Flaviana¡­¡±

    ¡°Flaviana this, Flaviana that.¡± She re-tied her lure and cast again. Across from her, she watched the southern man jump away with satisfaction. He should be scared. She needed to fish, not waste her time coddling him. ¡°She failed. She is not here. We are. It is your job, as the eldest, to take charge. If you will not, I will! And I say we need to move on!¡±

    She was tired of this. Staying in the same spot, corralled in by dark walls and only a few spots of light from the skylights. They had come for truth. For blood. For the ultimate knowledge.

    Now she was stuck following her fool brother¡¯s commands. She glared at the man. He¡¯d fallen over and gotten tangled in her lure. ¡°Get back! I¡¯m trying to get food for you, you worm! Surely you can manage doing nothing!¡±

    ¡°You know he doesn¡¯t speak our language,¡± said St¨¢li.

    ¡°Translate, then!¡±

    S¨®lveig couldn¡¯t take this. First they had lost Flaviana, who was already a coward and too slow. A horrible excuse for a leader, even when you ignored the fact that she was southern. Now she was stuck with her brother, who wanted to coddle everyone. He¡¯d even taken in this southerner, who spent all of his time writing in journals and weeping. What a waste of time! They had a job to do!

    She stormed to her feet, throwing the rod down. ¡°If you want to eat, catch something yourself,¡± she said.

    ¡°S¨®lveig, wait,¡± said St¨¢li, but as he stumbled to his feet she¡¯d already outpaced him. Even though he was years older, she was taller. Her steps were longer. She stormed away from the moat that had molded into a horrible bog, jumping from lily-pad to lily-pad with practiced hops until she was on the stone ledge. There, she slung her bag over her back again and stomped into the outer reaches of the maze, taking a few turns until she was satisfied he hadn¡¯t followed her.

    She drew her legs up to her chest and began sorting through her bag. First she found a soft cloth, wiping the blade of her axe in case it had gotten wet. She made sure to clean the handle, too, lingering on the inscription from the war. The crossed blades of the northern legion. Her grandfather¡¯s weapon.

    ¡°I promise,¡± she muttered to the blade. ¡°I¡¯ll put you to good use.¡±

    Putting it aside gently, she unpacked the rest of her bag, lining it up neatly. Her grandfather¡¯s medals of honor- his injury in battle, his command, his rescue of missing soldiers. All perfectly polished, as usual. Her stores of rations- the ones she¡¯d been keeping concealed until they got rid of the dead weight. She removed some of the wax-soaked linen and gave some of the dried biscuits a sniff. They still smelled fine, at least.

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    A flask of hard liquor. Several flasks of water, boiled. A set of lures. Extra line. Vials, for their quarry. Candles. Herbs. A book for recording their discovery. The iron cuffs.

    Lined out like that, she couldn¡¯t help but feel impatient. They had everything they needed. They knew where their quarry was. They had been hunting her since the Capital. Why couldn¡¯t they just go get her?

    ¡°You should go apologize.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not apologizing to anyone.¡± At the sound of St¨¢li¡¯s voice, she began repacking her bags. ¡°He¡¯s a no-good, soft, idiot southerner who can¡¯t even fish for himself. Just because we took advantage of his carriage coming up doesn¡¯t mean we have to use him otherwise!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a disease to be nice.¡±

    She looked up, ready to laugh. ¡°You can¡¯t be serious.¡±

    ¡°Of course I¡¯m serious!¡± Something had seriously gone wrong.

    ¡°We¡¯re a family of warriors,¡± she said. ¡°Yesterday, he started scratching out symbols in his journal. To me. I think he¡¯s going mad.¡±

    ¡°He was trying to teach you their language, S¨®lveig.¡±

    ¡°Why? They don¡¯t have anything to say I care about.¡±

    He threw up his hands. ¡°Why do you have to be so¡­ so¡­.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m focused! On the goal!¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a councilman! If we get him on our side, next time, we won¡¯t have to sneak into anything. We can just go. That means no more fishing in temple bogs.¡±

    S¨®lveig leaned back. He did make a good point.

    St¨¢li tossed her the fishing pole. ¡°I finished your job, by the way.¡± He held up a fish. ¡°You¡¯re invited. But you have to apologize to come to dinner.¡±

    S¨®lveig sniffed. ¡°If I had been fishing, the catch would have been bigger.¡±

    As St¨¢li pulled away, sighing in disappointment- his face was so obvious, he would never do well in a real undercover situation- she held out a hand to stop him. ¡°Well,¡± she said. ¡°I am hungry. I guess I could do it. Just this once.¡±

    Looking across the fire at the southerner, she decided she¡¯d clearly been going mad when she¡¯d agreed previously. ¡°What do I have to say, again?¡±

    ¡°Just apologize from the heart,¡± said St¨¢li. He was rummaging in his bad for the remains of their salt. The southerner was combing his beard- a silly little pointy thing- and looked too perky for someone who¡¯d just fallen in a bog. S¨®lveig had to resist the urge to throw him back in, just to see his reaction.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a heart.¡±

    ¡°Apologize from the head, then. But make it sound good.¡±

    ¡°Just so you know,¡± she told the southerner, ¡°This is only because I want the fish.¡±

    She turned to St¨¢li when he didn¡¯t speak. ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to translate?¡±

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t an apology.¡±

    ¡°That was part of it!¡±

    ¡°Just go on,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll say all of it at once.¡±

    ¡°Fine.¡± She straightened. ¡°I, S¨®lveig, admit that I was wrong to say that you were a blank-minded, false-hearted, useless excuse for breath that is only here because the gods forgot about you enough to let you survive. I should have said that you are a Councilman of the Capital, and that you could one day be helpful to our mission.¡±

    There was another long silence.

    ¡°I don¡¯t remember you saying any of that,¡± said St¨¢li.

    ¡°I was thinking it.¡±

    Another moment, and then he spoke in the southern language. S¨®lveig frowned. ¡°That was a lot shorter than what I said.¡±

    ¡°Their words are shorter.¡± He leaned in and adjusted the fish over the fire. ¡°Does anyone want fish?¡±

    S¨®lveig scowled at the man over the fire. ¡°I want to eat first. On account of how I need energy to guard all of you.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s all split it,¡± said St¨¢li. ¡°I really don¡¯t want to translate another apology.¡±

    She kept an eye on the southerner as she spit out the fish bones, his face worried over the flickering of the fire. They were running low on the wood they¡¯d been able to scavenge within the maze. Beyond, the bog was quiet save for a few splashes of frogs and fish.

    Above, she could just barely see the moon through a hazy skylight. S¨®lveig curled up next to the fire and watched her brother mutter with the southerner in a language she couldn¡¯t understand. They were both sketching out plans. The pen darted back and forth.

    When she closed her eyes, she dreamed of blood swirling across the face of her axe, black as midnight and reflecting perfect, perfect red.

 16. In Balance

    In the morning, Katla was gone. I woke up to an aching back (I had to stop sleeping on the ground, no matter how many people in the group were actually injured) and a dry mouth. I reached up to press at my eyes. ¡°Does Teuthida provide fresh water?¡±

    ¡°She should,¡± said Vita, yawning. ¡°But no one agrees on where. Just that it should be somewhere around.¡±

    ¡°Well, we should look,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯re going to run out fast.¡±

    I pushed myself up, kicked over the ashes of the fire to make sure they were out. When I rolled back to stretch, it felt like every piece of my spine cracked individually. Behind me, Duran was still dead asleep. ¡°I know we brought in water, too, but when that runs out we¡¯ll be in much more trouble than the food situation.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not saying anything new. I know we need water.¡± Vita leaned over, grabbed for her crutches and used one of them to wake up Herminius. Apis, already awake, was midway through his morning stretches. He looked completely perky and awake. I sighed. We couldn¡¯t get out of this temple fast enough.

    If only I could summon Durandus the first through the walls. Maybe I could just set out flasks of alcohol. That had worked back in the old days, when I¡¯d needed a paycheck.

    ¡°Well, hoping we¡¯ll find water and just wandering aimlessly did nothing,¡± I snapped. ¡°Let¡¯s actually look for it this time. We¡¯ve been hearing it, haven¡¯t we?¡±

    ¡°Fine! As long as we have a destination.¡±

    I squinted at Vita, suspicious. ¡°I thought you wanted to complete the temple?¡±

    ¡°As long as we¡¯re continuing with an open heart, we will complete the temple,¡± she said. ¡°This is the way of Teuthida.¡±

    Two hours later, and I decided the way of Teuthida wasn¡¯t worth a whit. ¡°I never want to look at rocks again,¡± I told Duran, from where we were leading the group. We¡¯d spread out over most of a corridor, with Duran and I leading the train, Apis taking up the middle, and Herminius and Vita trailing.

    ¡°What about salt? Isn¡¯t that a rock?¡±

    He kicked one of the aforementioned rocks down a the corridor. We came to a fork. Without mentioning it, we took a right. I thought I could hear water running that way.

    I also thought I might be going mad. Another statue of Teuthida stared at us.

    When I got out of here, I was going to eat endless Calamari. Endless.

    ¡°Salt doesn¡¯t count,¡± I told Duran. ¡°I¡¯m eating it. Not looking at it.¡±

    We took another right. The sound of the water got dimmer. After a few more strides, we stopped, turned around, and then took a left.

    When we passed Apis, he half-ran to catch up with us. ¡°Elysia,¡± he said. ¡°Slow down. I have-¡±

    I stopped walking. He was clearly struggling. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°An idea,¡± he said. ¡°What if we gave an offering?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°This is a temple.¡± He pointed to one of the endless statues. It wasn¡¯t an unusual shape like the one we¡¯d been attacked by last night (at least, I thought it had been night). It was just the usual squid-woman, unimpressed, hands out. ¡°She¡¯s asking for offerings. We could offer something. Maybe it might help.¡±

    ¡°This was your big idea?¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°Maybe it could help?¡±

    When I still looked unimpressed, he pulled the bag further up on his shoulder. ¡°Sorry. It was a foolish idea. I just¡­¡±

    ¡°No. You¡¯re right. We might as well try. ¡± I watched as he brightened. ¡°What do we have? Duran, do you have anything?¡±

    ¡°I have a copper!¡± He held it out. It was severely bent.

    ¡°I have that quarter round of cheese,¡± said Apis, holding it up.

    I frowned at him. ¡°You¡¯re giving up our cheese? That¡¯s important. What if we want to eat it?¡± He held it closer to me. I wrinkled my nose. ¡°Actually, never-mind. She can keep it.¡± The mold had progressed from just more cheese to health hazard. Some of it was waving a little in the howling wind that seemed ever-present, emerging from the depths of the maze.

    I inspected the contents of my own pocket. Two coppers, a fork- to go with the spoon I kept in my apron- and a few pieces of lint.

    Well, why not. Teuthida could have it all. It would even up my score with what Andrena had stolen. Andrena, here¡¯s your chance. Perform a miracle, and Teuthida won¡¯t get my fork. It¡¯s a pretty nice fork! Don¡¯t you feel jealous?

    I approached first, putting my coins and fork into one of Teuthida¡¯s hands. Apis placed the cheese into her hand with a little too much ceremony, and Duran had to jump to put his single copper in.

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    Nothing happened.

    Then, after a moment, there was a grinding sound. The statue¡¯s hand lowered, as if our pittance of an offering had weighed her down.

    I glanced towards Vita and Herminius, still far behind us in the tunnel. I was met with stone. Where they had previously been, the corridor had disappeared.

    A wall had appeared- from where, I didn¡¯t know. In its place were two new tunnels, branching right and left instead of straight beyond.

    ¡°This is what I get for praying!¡±

    When we pulled the prayer objects off of the statue¡¯s hand, it stayed weighed down. In an attempt to fix the issue, we put the prayer objects on Teuthida¡¯s other hand. Her other hand ground down, with the right hand lifting up. When that happened, all of the corridors behind us closed- including the new ones- and the corridors in front of us branched off to reveal new paths.

    No matter what we did, we couldn¡¯t seem to force her hands back into balance.

    I yanked down on one of the statue¡¯s wrists, putting all of my body weight into it. ¡°Come on, you fish! Can¡¯t you understand! We were trying to be helpful!¡±

    Apis came up behind me, wincing. ¡°Listen,¡± he said. ¡°I know this isn¡¯t what you want to hear, but¡­¡±

    I dropped to the ground. Teuthida gazed down at me, eyes unchanging. I kicked at one of the tentacles, then stumbled back. My foot was stinging.

    ¡°Ah, well, how to say it.¡± He scratched at his chin. ¡°Maybe this is what we¡¯re meant to do. I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll figure the rest of the temple out on their own.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t that I wanted to re-convene with the others in our ill-fated group. I didn¡¯t really like them that much. Herminius never shut up about how his career depended on beating the temple first, and Vita was a little too enthusiastic about Teuthida¡¯s teachings for any practical effort to be made.

    Still. It was that by being separated from them, I was letting the temple win. Who was I? Someone who wasn¡¯t smart enough to get around a maze? This was a construction of some cogs, gears, and stone! I was a full person! How dare it try to take over my plans!

    I stepped back from the statue, sighing.

    ¡°We¡¯ll find them another way,¡± I said, more to the stone Teuthida than to Apis. ¡°This isn¡¯t over.¡±

    ¡°No, definitely not,¡± Apis replied. ¡°I think we should press down the original hand. That way we¡¯ll go back towards the rest of our group. Besides- maybe those new tunnels are actually a short-cut. If we opened them up for both of us, perhaps we¡¯ve just solved the maze.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m glad that you¡¯re feeling optimistic,¡± I said, which was the best I could manage at the time.

    I glanced behind me. There- at least Duran was still with us. He was attempting to scratch our names into one of the tentacles with the edge of a knife. ¡°Stop it,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s not helping.¡±

    He looked up, guilty. ¡°But I¡¯ve only finished the first letter of my name!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going to dull the knife.¡±

    I helped Apis move our offerings over to the other hand, watching the statue¡¯s hand grind down with another horrible noise. The tunnels opened up silently. I wondered how often the cogs were greased. Were there still priestesses operating the temple? How many people worked here? Had they all gone missing, when the temple had gone closed, or was this just an elaborate vacation?

    ¡°I can hear you thinking,¡± said Apis.

    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡± I reached forward and snatched my copper coins back. After a moment, I took back my fork, too. ¡°Let¡¯s go. Before I lose my patience even more.¡±

    ¡°At least we can move faster this time!¡±

    Duran was bouncing with excitement. Of course he was. This was almost being heroic. ¡°Do you think my Da¡¯s out here?¡±

    ¡°I hope not. There¡¯s no liquor. Maybe Teuthida keeps it in the center of the temple.¡±Apis gave me a look. I sighed. ¡°Probably not,¡± I amended. ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯s been working very hard.¡±

    It would have been an excellent save, if Duran had been there to hear it. Unfortunately, he¡¯d already run ahead. He had chosen our fork for us- a hard right, towards the sound of rushing water.

    ¡°Well?¡± I said, following him. ¡°Any sign of our lost group?¡±

    Duran was hunched over a stone. I was beginning to think he¡¯d apprenticed to the wrong person.

    ¡°This a new design for the tunnels. There are less statues back here. And look!¡±

    He pointed down. Sure enough, he was crouched on a different-looking paving stone. It was carved with a squid, just like the key-stone from before. It looked mean, like it was midway through eating someone. The sound of rushing water was louder, too, like it was just underneath his feet.

    I had a bad feeling. ¡°Duran,¡± I said, ¡°Are you sure you should be-¡±

    I wasn¡¯t able to finish my sentence. Duran had fallen straight down, the tile pulling back underneath his feet.

    ¡°Duran!¡±

    I leaned forward. Before I could check on him, the tile had snapped back closed. It left us in darkness. Duran had fallen with the lantern.

    With a fumble and a flicker, Apis lit a match. We contemplated the squid tile in horrified silence. ¡°Duran?¡± I shouted.

    There was no response.

    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s just thick stone,¡± said Apis. The match burned out. He lit another.

    ¡°We have to go after him,¡± I said. I didn¡¯t move forward.

    ¡°Yes,¡± said Apis. He lit another match. He didn¡¯t move forward either. I wondered how many matches we had.

    We both stared at the squid. It was mid-battle with something horrible. It looked like a¡­ horse?

    ¡°It¡¯s a temple. It¡¯s not meant to kill you.¡± My words sounded false even to me.

    ¡°It sounded like water down there,¡± said Apis. ¡°What if he needs to swim.¡±

    I sighed. Duran wasn¡¯t that good in water.

    By the fifth match, we had all of our cloaks off, our bags held over our heads. We clustered awkwardly together on the tile. I put a single foot on it hesitantly, then another. Apis followed.

    We stood there for a long moment.

    ¡°Is anything going to¡­ happen?¡±

    Apis lit another match. ¡°I hope so. We only have one box left.

    The tile gave out underneath our feet. I grabbed for Apis. It felt like forever in free-fall, my guts tumbling and my shriek stretching out for ages.

    Then, with a splash, we were underwater.

    I emerged from the water, gasping in panic. I¡¯d dropped the bag. Apis was dragging me out by the collar, kicking fiercely. In another few moments I¡¯d been deposited on what felt like solid stone with a thump. I was dripping all over the place. I was wet and fiercely cold.

    I reached over and put a finger to my lips. Fresh water.

    ¡°Duran?¡±

    My voice echoed back to me.

    ¡°Madam Elysia!¡± Came a shout, distant. ¡°I found the water!¡±

    I fell back, my tunic making a wet thump. There was more stone down here. Of course there was. The back of the tunnel felt round, almost, though I couldn¡¯t make out any detail in the pitch black.

    There was a scraping, but no resulting light.

    ¡°I think the matches got wet,¡± said Apis. ¡°One second.¡±

    More fumbling, and finally something caught. We stared at each other in the flame for a moment. The match-light was tiny in the density of the tunnel, which I could now see was round and tightly cobbled- an underground aqueduct. This must be where the river was routed underneath the temple. I sighed. ¡°If this is the solution, I want a refund. Does she actually just throw everyone down a hole?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just glad we taught Duran to swim.¡±

 17. [Sidequest] Half-Rate Harpist

    Midway through a dream about roasted turnips and butter, someone tripped over Balbinus¡¯s legs. He started up, grabbing for something- finding his pen, which wasn¡¯t a good defensive weapon- and trying to rise to his feet.

    There was a clang. A thud. A twang.

    A twang?

    He squinted. A figure scrambled up in the dark. His legs were throbbing.

    ¡°Sorry!¡± Yelled a voice in the dark. Definitely not Camilla, then. She would never apologize.

    ¡°Watch where you¡¯re going, this isn¡¯t a barn,¡± his mouth replied without his permission.

    ¡°I¡¯m just looking for help! Really, I am!¡±

    There was some fumbling. Another twang. A match was struck in the dark. ¡°I¡¯m looking for Councilman Domitius,¡± he said. His eyes were bright in the darkness. He was a tweedy sort of man, outweighed entirely by his harp. He was clutching it for dear life. ¡°He¡¯s hired me to escort him through the temple.¡±

    He had one thing going for him, at least. Camilla had taken the lamp.

    Balbinus squinted towards him. He recalled, vaguely, mention of this man. Camilla got very territorial about hired help. ¡°Gnaeus? The one that knew all about the legends of Teuthida?¡±

    The man brightened. ¡°You¡¯re also with Domitius?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± said Balbinus. ¡°I¡¯m actually an assistant of Herminius.¡± As the man looked disappointed, he held up a hand. ¡°I do know a good deal about Domitius, though. They¡¯re rivals in the council.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± said Gnaeus. ¡°Then, ah, am I- not- not welcome?¡±

    ¡°This is a little beyond council chambers.¡±

    ¡°So¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to attack you,¡± said Balbinus. ¡°But please get off my knees. I¡¯m not twenty anymore.¡±

    There was another fumbling and a twang as Gnaeus fell backwards. ¡°I see,¡± he said. ¡°My apologies!¡± The lamp flickered. ¡°Well! It seems we have a similar goal.¡±

    ¡°Did you happen to see-¡± Balbinus paused. Was he really going to ask this¡­ man¡­. For help?

    Well, he didn¡¯t have any other options. ¡°A woman,¡± he said. ¡°Uptight, but rather pretty. Dark hair? Pen in her pocket? Name is Camilla?¡±

    Gnaeus shook his head. ¡°You¡¯re the first person I¡¯ve seen,¡± he said. ¡°I actually entered a little early, but when the quake hit¡­¡± He shook his head. ¡°Well, I should have run faster, I suppose. But I couldn¡¯t leave my harp behind!¡±

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    Balbinus winced. ¡°I, uh, I can tell.¡± It was impressive, how tightly the other man was clinging to the harp.

    Gnaeus smiled. ¡°You¡¯re a patron of the arts, then?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m an assistant.¡± Balbinus finally scrubbed at his eyes, waking up. ¡°Sorry,¡± he said. ¡°Do you actually know the way out of here?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the problem,¡± said Gnaeus. ¡°I memorized the map, but it¡¯s turned out to be wrong. I¡¯ve ended up going in circles, which isn¡¯t right at all. I¡¯m beginning to think Teuthida¡¯s angry at me!¡±He sighed. ¡°It¡¯s really quite unfortunate. I was hoping you knew.¡±

    ¡°Why would I know!¡±

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re a professional.¡±

    When it didn¡¯t look like Gnaeus was going to put the light out again, Balbinus sighed. His dreams of turnips would have to wait. He shoved himself up. ¡°Look,¡± he said. ¡°I lost my companion. The other assistant. I need to go look for her. You can come or not, but-¡±

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯ll come along!¡± Gnaeus strummed his harp. It was so discordant Balbinus actually flinched away on instinct. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry. I have my ways. I¡¯ll sing to Teuthida, begging her for help.¡±

    Was this why Gnaeus had gotten nowhere?

    ¡°We¡¯ve been taking the left fork,¡± Balbinus said. ¡°Camilla says it¡¯s the ¡®most efficient solution.¡¯¡±

    ¡°Is it?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re still here, aren¡¯t we?¡±

    ¡°Then why do you continue?¡±

    Balbinius didn¡¯t reply.

    Instead, he thumped on the wall again, trying to use the light to feel for a false door- for anything. Had Camilla fallen through? Ended up in a spike pit? Last time, they¡¯d needed both of their full heights to get out. What if she¡¯d spent all night trapped?

    Gnaeus was strumming on his harp. Constantly. Balbinus gritted his teeth and began walking. Behind him, Gnaeus had started singing a hymn of Teuthida. It managed to be both off-key and off-beat.

    It was almost impressive. It was driving him mad.

    Balbinius inhaled. He exhaled. He wouldn¡¯t say anything. He was lucky to have company.

    Another few steps. He was thumping the wall every moment he could, trying to see where she could have gone. It couldn¡¯t be far. He had only looked away for a second. A second, and she had been gone. They should have stuck closer together. He should have never questioned her. When they met back up, he would let her lead. She deserved to run the place, anyway. She was right. His motions were uninspired-

    ¡°Will you stop that!¡± he snapped, at the third repeat of the Hymn about Teuthida¡¯s Blessed Tentacles. ¡°Have you never tuned a harp before?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m still learning,¡± said Gnaeus. He had stopped walking. He looked mournful, holding the lantern up and blinking his eyes pitifully at Balbinus.

    Then, in the next moment, he was gone.

    For a moment, hazy with panic, Balbinus thought his half-curse had come true. He had actually gotten a favor from Teuthida, and she¡¯d come to smite Gnaeus. Then he leaned forward, feeling the rock in the absence of any light. The stone Gnaeus had been standing on hadn¡¯t looked very different. Not like the iron tiles. But it was a different shape under his fumbling fingers.

    It was a carved squid.

    Balbinus swallowed. He stepped forward, clumsy in the darkness. He had to be brave.

    After a few moments of standing still, the squid gave way. He dropped. He fell, free-falling.

    Then, with a clang of harp-strings and a splash, he landed. With a cough, he pushed himself up. Hazy with panic, it took him a moment to shove the water out of his eyes and stumble upwards.

    In front of him, a smile on her face, hair immaculate, was Camilla. She held their lamp. Next to her, fumbling his harp out of the water, was Gnaeus. She was ignoring the harpist completely.

    ¡°Finally,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for ages!¡±

 18. Parlay

    Water. Darkness. A round tunnel, stretching out endlessly.

    ¡°This is just another maze.¡±

    I threw a rock into the water. It rippled. Duran, where he had his feet dangling into the water, grinned at me. ¡°But we found the water!¡±

    It had taken a great deal of finagling, but at least we¡¯d dried out the lantern. I had almost given up on having any light. If this was what Teuthida demanded of her dedicants, maybe Andrena was better. At least she¡¯d only asked Apis to pay for a beehive. In comparison, a completely reasonable demand.

    ¡°I hate mazes,¡± I said, pulling off my boots and letting the water drain out. ¡°I hate squid, I hate the water, and I¡¯m holding a grudge about my cloak. I just got it repaired.¡±

    The water was suspiciously deep. The angle of the tunnel suggested that it was round and should only be a few hand-lengths deep, but when I looked down, I could see no bottom. I readjusted the sword on my back nervously. At least it hadn¡¯t come loose. I didn¡¯t want to think about what Andrena would do if I lost her maybe-priceless sword in someone else¡¯s temple. Not that you have a right to be angry, I told her. You have to make yourself helpful to earn that.

    In the darkness, I thought I saw something move. It glimmered slightly. I pulled back from the water. Surely a squid couldn¡¯t survive here. They were ocean creatures. Even a goddess had limits.

    ¡°All of our wood is damp,¡± said Apis. He pulled himself out of the water, hair dripping, and held up the other backpack, which he¡¯d gone swimming to find. ¡°But the backpack did stay fastened. I knew it was a good idea to bargain for it.¡±

    I took it from him with a sigh and started sorting through it. I held up a bag of oats. They were soaked even through the wax-coated wrapping. ¡°Our food is ruined.¡±

    ¡°Maybe we can fish?¡±

    ¡°In this? It¡¯s moving too fast. We don¡¯t even have a pole. Unless you want to grab something with your bare hands.¡±

    Duran, next to me, was still happily splashing in the water. Not a care in the world. I wished I was fifteen again. Everything had been much less complicated then.

    I pushed the backpack closed and slung it over my shoulder. ¡°We¡¯ll just have to get to the next section of the temple,¡± I said, like it hadn¡¯t been our goal all along. ¡°Didn¡¯t Vita say there were fish there?¡±

    Apis leaned over the water and frowned. ¡°I suppose so,¡± he said. ¡°Maybe they have stashes of fishing rods there. Like there were stashes of food in the first maze.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure there are. Otherwise, why would old ladies attempt it? Surely that aunt wasn¡¯t moving any faster than we are.¡± My words didn¡¯t sound reassuring, even to me. I wrung a little more water out of my cloak. ¡°Duran, stop splashing in the water. You¡¯re going to summon monsters.¡±

    He looked up at me. ¡°Do you promise?¡±

    ¡°No. We¡¯ve already fallen in a river today. Monsters would just make it worse.¡±

    We flipped a coin for which way to go- upstream or downstream. The coin landed on the beetle. Upstream. I caught Duran peering into the depths of the water as we walked.

    Something moved down there. I walked a little faster.

    It was just a big fish. I was sure of it.

    Did big fish have tentacles?

    <hr>

    Unlike the rest of the temple, the tunnel just went on. And on. We only had a few elbow-lengths of space to move on the lip of stone before the sharp drop-off to the water below. At least we¡¯d been able to refill our flasks. I couldn¡¯t help but still be nervous about the depths below. I kept thinking I spotted the movement of something in the depths.

    Then again, maybe I was just imagining it. I¡¯d spent too long in this temple already.

    That was why I¡¯d thought I was imagining the light at the end of the tunnel. First it was nothing but a flickering. Then it had gotten larger, and I¡¯d seen one figure. Then two. Maybe a third. Who else was down here? Katla?

    ¡°Vita?¡± I called, down the tunnel. I couldn¡¯t make out the figures. Neither one seemed to be on crutches.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get any closer!¡±

    The figure held up the lantern. A woman and two men, as far as I could tell. And¡­ a harp?

    ¡°It¡¯s just Elysia!¡± I called out. ¡°We thought we lost you!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know who that is, and I don¡¯t like it!¡± shouted the woman. ¡°How do I know that you¡¯re not stealing our secrets!¡±

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    ¡°We don¡¯t have any secrets!¡± said another figure. He seemed to think he was being quiet, but it echoed all the way down to us. I took a hesitant step forward.

    ¡°I have a rock, and I¡¯ll use it!¡± called the woman. ¡°Stay where you are!¡±

    ¡°Camilla, let¡¯s not get excited,¡± said the man.

    The man with the harp began to speak, but they both hushed him. I cleared my throat. ¡°We¡¯re just pilgrims,¡± I lied. ¡°Here to find the center of the temple.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t remember you!¡± she shouted. ¡°And you¡¯ve got a big sword!¡±

    ¡°So what? I¡¯m allowed to have a big sword.¡±

    ¡°No, you¡¯re not! You¡¯re supposed to donate all of that.¡±

    She had me there. ¡°Fine, you caught me. I¡¯m just here to find someone. Can we stop shouting now?¡±

    Apis leaned forward. ¡°They must have been here for the entire time, if they¡¯re asking about your qualifications. Do you suppose they¡¯ve been fishing for food?¡±

    I stared at their group. ¡°Not unless that harp¡¯s got some bait on it.¡±

    They were still speaking amongst themselves. Duran tugged at my cloak. It squished damply under his hand. Even after a full day of walking, it hadn¡¯t dried out. It was unpleasantly moist and cold down here.

    ¡°I have an idea,¡± he whispered. It echoed off of the stone loudly.

    ¡°Well?¡±

    ¡°We can swim past them. We can all swim pretty fast. Before they notice, we¡¯ll be gone.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll consider it.¡± Duran¡¯s opinion of our swimming ability was wildly optimistic.

    As I turned back to the group in front of us, the suspicious woman lowered her lantern. ¡°I agree to your offer for parlay,¡± she shouted across.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Send forward a member of your group to negotiate an agreement,¡± she said. ¡°I will speak to them on neutral ground.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, who put you in charge of these tunnels?¡±

    ¡°As a representative of the government,¡± she said, ¡°It is up to me to make sure that no one misuses-¡± One of her companions leaned in and whispered something in her ear. She sighed. ¡°I mean, we don¡¯t want to get in a fight with anyone, and we think your sword is suspicious, so we want to make sure you don¡¯t have any ill intentions. Can we speak to one of you one-on-one before we let you pass?¡±

    As much as I hated to admit it, she was able to block us. I might as well hear them out. I turned to Duran and Apis. Apis and I spoke at once, faces in our own little huddle.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go.¡±

    I turned to him. ¡°I¡¯m the one with a sword.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m the one without a sword,¡± he pointed out, which was horribly reasonable of him. ¡°I¡¯m less threatening.¡±

    ¡°I should go,¡± said Duran, a little late. ¡°I¡¯m the most charming.¡±

    We both ignored him. ¡°Fine,¡± I said. ¡°But don¡¯t sign us up for any favors. We¡¯re too over-booked as it is.¡±

    ¡°I would never.¡± I squinted at him. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll only sign us up for favors that really need done. It¡¯s a temple! We can¡¯t just ignore the needy.¡±

    ¡°Just get us past these people,¡± I said. ¡°Good luck.¡±

    I held Duran back as Apis straightened his tunic and stepped forward. After a moment, the woman stepped forward. Unfortunately, they weren¡¯t speaking loud enough for the echoes to reach us. I was forced to wring more water out of my cloak as I waited.

    Apis began gesturing vaguely. The woman reached for what looked like a dagger. I stepped forward, ready to defend him, when they shook hands. He turned and smiled at me.

    My gut dropped. ¡°Tell me we don¡¯t have more members of the group,¡± I said.

    He¡¯d already trotted back to us and slung his backpack over his shoulders. ¡°It¡¯s a small world! Her companion is actually the missing assistant of our old companion Herminus. Can you believe it?¡±

    I tried to stare past the bright pool of light of her lantern to the two men behind her. One of them was trying to straighten a clearly torn tunic and a pair of uneven glasses. He looked nervous at the sight of my sword. The other was struggling to carry a harp that was missing a few strings.

    ¡°I should have known,¡± I said. ¡°Why couldn¡¯t we have found Katla¡¯s group? They might have had a few rabbits.¡±

    At least Camilla (the woman) and her group (Gnaeus, the harpist, and Balbinus, the missing assistant) had some information for us. ¡°There¡¯s a grate up ahead,¡± she said, gesturing. ¡°We¡¯ve been trying to get through for ages, but we¡¯re just not strong enough as a group.¡± She glared at Balbinus. ¡°Some of us spend all of our time in the library.¡±

    He walked a little faster. ¡°Some of us need to draft our motions multiple times!¡±

    ¡°I believe that music is the strongest power there is,¡± said Gnaeus. Before he could strum the harp, Balbinus¡¯s hand reached out to stop him.

    ¡°Maybe later,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯re all so¡­. tired right now. We can¡¯t appreciate the music.¡±

    Just what I needed. More people. I walked a little faster, but I couldn¡¯t get rid of Camilla. She was nearly at a run. ¡°So why do you have a sword?¡± she said. She tried to poke at it, but I dodged her hand. My feet were nearly slipping on the wet stone. I could hear Duran, running to catch up with me. Apis¡¯s voice had faded to an echoing mutter behind me. ¡°Are you planning on fighting someone inside?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re here to find someone, not as pilgrims,¡± I said. ¡°Always better to have a sword. Just in case.¡±

    ¡°But who is it for? All we have are statues!¡±

    I thought of the Voice of Teuthida. Hopefully she was still in the capital, but¡­

    ¡°I don¡¯t have the best experience with squids,¡± I said. ¡°Are you always this nosy?¡±

    ¡°Only when it¡¯s important.¡± She folded her arms. ¡°Who are you here to find? Maybe we can help. I met many people outside of the entrance, waiting to be admitted by the priestesses. I¡¯m very sociable, after all.¡± The more she explained how friendly she was, the less I believed her. Still, it was worth a try.

    ¡°His name is Durandus the First. Owner of the One Horse Inn.¡±

    She was suspiciously silent.

    ¡°You don¡¯t know him, do you.¡±

    ¡°No, I just-¡± She frowned. ¡°I thought he escaped. You didn¡¯t see him outside?¡±

    I stopped walking. ¡°What do you mean, you thought he escaped?¡±

    ¡°The day everything collapsed,¡± she said. ¡°I saw him running. He was faster than Balbinus and I- we were checking the temple, making sure we¡¯d be here for our councilmen to establish their-¡±

    ¡°Get on with it.¡±

    ¡°Well, he was with those¡­¡± She made a vague gesture. ¡°Those strange northern people. They¡¯re very efficient. I assumed they would have left by now. He really wasn¡¯t back in his inn?¡±

    ¡°We stopped by on the way up. I didn¡¯t see him.¡± Strange northern people. Katla¡¯s group? It had to be.

    ¡°You¡¯re sure you didn¡¯t see him?¡±

    ¡°I think I would have noticed,¡± I snapped. ¡°Otherwise, this would be a massive waste of time. Why does it matter so much to you, anyway? Were you a big fan of the inn?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just¡­¡± Camilla coughed. ¡°Well, my councilman was with that group as well.I was hoping he had escaped.¡±She gestured ahead of us. ¡°It¡¯s only a few minutes more to the gate. Shall we?

 19. The Pen and the Sword

    The metal grate was very plain. The bars were cast iron and immaculately maintained. Not even a hint of rust around the edges. It was a large rectangle, the approximate size of a door. Beyond it I could only see water. I gave it an experimental pull. Nothing happened.

    ¡°You see why we requested help,¡± said Camilla. She was still standing too close. I stepped a little further away from her. ¡°We can¡¯t pull it away on our own. But the bars are too close together for anyone to go through on their own.¡±

    ¡°Then what? Can you breathe water?¡±

    ¡°We could swim. There must be an end eventually.¡±

    I looked sceptically at the unbroken flow of water. ¡°Better be a quick swimmer,¡± I said. ¡°Looks like there¡¯s a lot of water above us.¡±

    ¡°Surely this must be planned,¡± she said. ¡°There¡¯s no other way up. We¡¯ve checked all of the entrance portals. No ladders. No other access. Just this grate.¡±

    I looked behind me, at our entire group. They were standing in a polite line. All staring at me. ¡°You,¡± I said, choosing at random. ¡°Gnaeus. You can swim?¡±

    He looked to either side, like he could avoid me, and finally met my eyes. Next to him, the councilman¡¯s assistant, Balbinus, held the lantern up a little higher so I could see their faces. ¡°Yes,¡± he managed.

    ¡°Good,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯ll be helping Duran and I.¡± I wasn¡¯t going in the water without someone to pull me out, and Duran would insist on coming with me. Mass-wise, though, I needed a backup plan. Gnaeus would do. I hoped.

    ¡°What about your- your other companion?¡±

    ¡°Apis will supervise, in case we need help. Besides, he has to hold the lantern.¡± I was already taking off my cloak. Why had I ever decided to come looking for Durandus the first? He didn¡¯t deserve this much effort. I could have gone on the run to escape the taxes. Maybe to somewhere warm and tropical. One of those places they served drinks inside of a pineapple.

    Instead, I was here. Cold, wet, and forced to confront a metallic grate. Andrena?

    Like always, there was no response. Why had she pulled me into the field of the gods if she didn¡¯t want to be helpful? This whole Paladin business was a bad deal. I took the Abyssal sword off of my back and handed it to Apis. He leaned it against the wall.

    ¡°You have a plan, then?¡± He said it quietly, at least, so everyone else couldn¡¯t hear. He¡¯d put my cloak under the sword, all in a neat pile.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to look at the grate up close,¡± I said.

    ¡°Then what?¡±

    ¡°No idea.¡±

    Duran popped up between us, forcing me to step back. He held up the paring knife. ¡°You think this will work on cast iron?¡±

    I pushed the tip down with a finger, gently. ¡°No. Remember the blade. Don¡¯t dull it on metal.¡±

    I felt him glance over at the Abyssal sword more than I saw him. ¡°That goes double for cursed swords,¡± I added. ¡°We¡¯re looking. Just looking.¡±

    After a great deal of twanging as the harp got put away, we were finally ready to confront the grate. I stared at the rush of water for a few more minutes before I took a deep breath and stepped out and down.

    The cold hit me first. I forced my eyes open, blinking against the rush of water and the flurry of bubbles. My remaining clothing dragged me down. I saw Duran, hazy and blue, struggling to pull himself up. The rush of water from the grate was pummeling him under. I couldn¡¯t see the harpist.

    I reached out and grabbed Duran by the nape of the neck. With my other hand, I reached out, and out- there. I had the grate in my other hand. My muscles screamed in protest as I pulled. Inch by inch, we approached the metal.

    I pushed my head closer to the grate. Was it all one piece? Someone must have built it. How did they install it?

    Something behind the grate waved at me. I pulled back so rapidly the water pummeled me back towards the metal and I hit my forehead on the metal, exhaling some of my held breath in surprise. When I opened my eyes again, they were still there.

    A man. He wore armor, gleaming as perfectly as it must have on the day it had been made. I couldn¡¯t make out the details of the emblem. On his back was a sword with an embedded gem. None of it had any color.

    I recognized his face, I realized, gut dropping. The same man as before. Why was my insanity creating consistent visions now?

    He was entirely transparent. Beyond him was a murky, watery darkness. He made a vague hand signal. He was pointing at something.

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    I grabbed Duran¡¯s hand and pushed back from the grate. When we emerged, sputtering, it was to see Gnaeus still standing on the stone, completely dry. ¡°You,¡± I snarled. ¡°You were supposed to come with us.¡±

    ¡°Was that a ghost?¡± said Duran.

    I wrung out water from my tunic and avoided eye contact. ¡°Ghosts aren¡¯t real.¡±

    ¡°Then what was it?¡±

    I hadn¡¯t thought that far yet. ¡°A shared hallucination.¡±

    Duran had pulled himself halfway out of the water and had wrapped a dripping hand around Gnaeus¡¯s ankle. ¡°He can come and check,¡± he said.

    I didn¡¯t really want someone to confirm that I had completely lost my mind. Then again, I had asked Gnaeus for help, and he had been a complete coward. He deserved to go look for non-existent ghosts. ¡°Good idea,¡± I said. ¡°Since he was a coward last time, and all.¡± A few minutes later, and he was in the water with us. ¡°It was just beyond the grate,¡± I admitted. ¡°I¡¯m sure there¡¯s nothing there.¡±

    The second time was just as difficult, trying to get past the flow of water and to the grate. This time I forced myself to stare at the edge of the grate as I approached it. There was no gap in the iron, no path I could find to wedge in a tool and pull it away even if I thought we could swim up. This didn¡¯t seem to be a path made for us to step into the temple- just a way for the water to drain out.

    Someone tugged on my sleeve. I looked up. It was Duran, pointing.

    He and Gnaeus were both staring, hands clinging tightly to the grate. Beyond, the same man still floated. His armor still shone. He¡¯d pulled out his sword and was pointing to something.

    I made a rude gesture at him, out of sight of Duran. He didn¡¯t blink. Well, there was one plan failed.

    I squinted. His armor was a strange, rather antique looking design. It was as if he had been taken straight out of the last war. There was even a bear on the front plate. No one had borne a symbol of Ursus since all of his paladins had disappeared.

    I shook my head with a dispersal of bubbles, forcing myself to look away. No. Ghosts weren¡¯t real, and this must just be-

    Duran grabbed my wrist and moved my hand downwards, to where the sword was pointing. I blinked in surprise. There was a weakness in the grate. A pair of nails, directly into the stone. They were inset into the metal and tucked so tightly in that I wouldn¡¯t have seen them. So that was how they¡¯d fastened it in.

    My lungs were burning. I let go of the grate and let the water take me away, kicking to the surface and emerging, coughing out and breathing in.

    ¡°Are you all right? Did you find a way through?¡± Camilla was leaning over, eyes wide.

    I let my eyes drift towards the Abyssal Sword. It was supposed to separate souls from this world. Could it¡­ get rid of ghosts? Send them to the afterlife?

    Not that I was trying to get rid of any ghosts right now, of course. Everyone knew ghosts weren¡¯t real. Even if they were, I was sure they weren¡¯t the type to swim.

    People said goddesses didn¡¯t appear in creeks, either, and look where that got you.

    I looked away from the Abyssal Sword. ¡°Does anyone have tools small enough to pull out nails in the cast iron? It looks like I could pull it out that way.¡±

    Spread out on the stone, our assortment of tools was depressing. For a moment- only a moment- I missed Katla. Those lockpicking tools would have come in handy. I even would have appreciated the rabbit.

    As it was, I reached in and grabbed what looked like a sharpened pen. ¡°What is this made of?¡±

    Camilla made a horrified noise. ¡°That¡¯s pure steel! It¡¯s a specialty-created fountain pen for only the council in order to-¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a pretty small nail, but this might manage it,¡± I said. I sank back into the water as she made another horrified shriek. ¡°Unless you¡¯d like to try it?¡±

    ¡°What about a- a- fork or something?¡±

    ¡°Nothing¡¯s small enough.¡± I had my doubts about the pen, too, but at least it might fit. Those nails had been tiny- I questioned if they were even able to hold the grate in. I was willing to bet it actually was wedged in there, and they just kept it aligned. Still, it was worth trying. ¡°Well?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ fine. But please try not to damage it.¡±

    I kept my eyes down as I got back to the grate this time. It took me four different attempts to finally begin to pull the nail out, the pen slipping. I was only able to use one hand; the other had to hold onto the grate as I slipped around with the fountain pen. Why had I volunteered for this? I should have made Gnaeus do it.

    Still, the nib of the pen finally slipped under the nail, and I was able to begin pulling it up. After I¡¯d figured out my technique on the first one, the second one came up easily enough. It felt like trying to do repairs on the stove; people always put nails in the most stupid places, as if someone wouldn¡¯t have to come back and fix it later.

    When the second nail was nearly free, I glanced up as I tried to pull it free.

    There was nothing but dark water beyond.

    Another yank, and the nail was free. With it, the grate came free- straight towards me. I tried to push it up, but it was too heavy, dragging me down- deeper and deeper. I exhaled in panic as I struggled to push it off of me, but my limbs dragged me further. There was nothing but the deep. My last breath escaped my lungs.

    Only darkness remained.

    <hr>

    Swim! You¡¯re going the wrong way! That¡¯s down!

    ¡°You¡¯re so demanding.¡± Why was Andrena always yelling at me? I was sure other goddesses were nicer to their paladins. ¡°The paladins of Ursus actually liked him,¡± I told the voice echoing in my head. Everything was moving too slowly. ¡°In case you were wondering.¡±

    I do not wish to choose another paladin! You have the strength for this- I believe in you!

    When had the field of the gods disappeared? Andrena really needed to work harder on providing an environment. ¡°You can¡¯t do anything about anything,¡± I told her. ¡°I already quit. Go away.¡±

    There was a spark of light. I blinked.

    ¡°Elysia?¡± Apis shook my shoulder. ¡°I think all the water¡¯s out, but you need to breathe.¡±

    I pushed myself up on an elbow. When had I gotten to shore? ¡°Oh,¡± I said. Someone had put my cloak underneath my head. ¡°That¡¯s going to take forever to dry.¡±

    My thoughts were all jumbled in my head. I had to stop getting injured. Yesterday, preferably. I put a hand to my forehead. Had Andrena actually¡­

    ¡°Did you come in and grab me?¡± I said.

    ¡°I was worried when you didn¡¯t resurface.¡±

    It was very¡­ quiet. ¡°Wait, where did everyone else go?¡±

    ¡°The others, ah, started the swim upwards.¡±

    ¡°Those- those-¡± I stopped talking. The headache had resumed.

    ¡°Maybe we should stay down here,¡± said Apis. ¡°You just nearly drowned.¡±

    I stood up. Everything got much brighter, then much darker. ¡°Those traitors! I¡¯m not waiting for anything.¡± No one cheered. I glanced around. ¡°Well? Are we going, or not?¡±

    Apis raised his hands in surrender. ¡°Let me wrap the sword first. The water might damage it.¡±

 20. The Calming of Teuthida

    Loaded up with as many supplies as I could carry, I kicked furiously upwards, eyes wide open. There was no sign of a ghost in the water. Just darkness and a few bubbles. I thought I saw something gleaming above me.

    Bright- too bright to be a lantern, too large. I felt myself doubting even as my heart nearly burst out of my chest. Duran had gone first.

    I followed after him, legs working furiously. I was nearly out of air.

    I reached up, up- and my hand tangled into something. Dark spots above me. What was that? I pulled back, horrified. A root? Something muddy?

    I pushed it aside. Pain had turned into panic. There wasn¡¯t much air left. I could feel the water rippling as Apis swam up below me.

    When I broke through, gasping, it was into a beam of light. I rubbed the water out of my eyes and smacked whatever was in my way aside. A lilypad? This was a temple. How could it grow? With what nutrients?

    My eyes were stinging in the light. I squinted up- and up.

    A skylight.

    Nothing fancy. Just a long, narrow pane of glass above us. Too far to climb, probably. It was surrounded by a few trees clinging to the edges of a wide canal of water. The canal itself was past overgrown and more of a marsh. I spotted more green than blue, which was bemusing.

    How did any of it survive, this far north? Besides, weren¡¯t they shallow-water plants? I had been swimming for ages.

    When I looked behind me, it was at a relatively open part of the water. After a few minutes, Apis popped out, gasping. ¡°Duran?¡±

    Oh. Right. I glanced forward. There, in front of me. Underneath a stunted tree, Duran was trying to drain his boots of water, one foot still in the water. He waved at me.

    ¡°Don¡¯t stick anything in the water,¡± I called out. ¡°What if something in there bites you?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re still swimming in it, Madame Elysia! Aren¡¯t you scared, too?¡±

    He had a point. I started heading towards shore.

    It seemed that the width of this canal took up a significant part of the temple; when I finally pulled myself out onto the dirt bank, ungainly as I was, I estimated it was wide enough to fit two carts end-to-end.

    ¡°So,¡± I said. ¡°Vita was right.¡±

    ¡°You made it!¡±

    I turned. A little too quickly. Whatever expression I had on my face, it must have been unkind. I saw Camilla step back a little bit. They had clustered near the walls.

    I was sitting on dirt, but it made me think of a garden bed; the dirt was surrounded by retaining walls of stone that went all the way down to the bottom of the canal, and where Camilla was attempting to escape me, the stone resumed to form the wall. Columns and arches with rough detailing had even been added, presumably because the artist of the statues before had been bored after all of the work on the maze.

    Unfortunately, I didn¡¯t see a door. The only details added between the arches were garden boxes, like the type people kept under their windows in apartments. A few flowers still bloomed, even out of season like this.

    Camilla was failing to hide between the flowers.

    ¡°What do you have to say for yourselves?¡±

    I folded my arms. I looked in between the three fools that had abandoned us. Gnaeus, the one I was angriest at, stepped in front of his harp like he might protect it. He gulped. I didn¡¯t back down.

    ¡°It looked like Apis had it in hand,¡± said Camilla. Dripping, recently emerged from the water herself, she didn¡¯t look nearly as impressive as she once had. I was reminded of those fancy dogs that lost most of their body mass once they were forced into the rain. ¡°We didn¡¯t want to waste time and lose our chance if the grate got blocked again.¡±

    I squinted between her and the other secretary. ¡°Of course. Apis was capable of saving my life. You didn¡¯t need to supervise at all.¡±

    ¡°You haven¡¯t even looked around,¡± interrupted the other secretary. ¡°We needed to check. What if the others were here? We¡¯d already lost them.¡±

    ¡°I told you that your councilman was in the maze,¡± I said. ¡°What, you were so eager to do his paperwork that you were willing to leave me for the squid?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no squid in that water. They only live in the sea.¡±

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°Perhaps a song is what is needed,¡± said Gnaeus. He smiled at me. ¡°I have just the tune. It¡¯s a hymn for the Calming of Teuthida. It will bring us all together after the, uh, unfortunate mistakes of my companions.¡±

    He stared over my shoulder at Apis, who was still trying to dry his tunic. Our backpacks were stacked next to him.

    I pretended to consider the offer. Duran gave up on his boots and put them back on, squishing over to me. ¡°At least there are trees again,¡± he offered. ¡°Can we eat any of this?¡±

    I frowned, gazing first up at the skylight and then over at the plants. He was right. If the angle of the light was right, we were running out of time on yet another day. Two days in this temple, and we still had made no progress.

    ¡°Some of them might be edible, if we were able to make a fire,¡± I admitted. I leaned over the canal and rubbed some of the leaves in between my fingers. I didn¡¯t typically do this¡­ wilderness survival thing. ¡°I think this is watermillfoil,¡± I said. ¡°Maybe?¡± I ran my hands over a few more plants. I thought a couple of the garden beds had some plants I recognized, too; I spotted what looked like radishes popping out of the soil, and a few peas were waving in the wind. Someone was trying to give the souls exploring this temple a fighting chance. ¡°Why don¡¯t you go check the garden beds,¡± I said, pushing myself off and brushing the soil off of my knees. ¡°I think I see some mushrooms.¡±

    They were on the side of the tree, looking ready to pick. I could feel my stomach grumbling already. Perhaps this would turn out well, after all.

    Hopefully Apis¡¯s plan kept our wood dry. I glanced over at him. He was kneeling on the ground, carefully unwrapping the packs. We¡¯d all donated every extra piece of clothing we owned, wrapping it in layers and layers.

    I watched his face. A wince. A grimace. Then, a spark of hope.

    ¡°Tell me the truth.¡±

    He rocked back on his heels. ¡°We might have something that¡¯s dry.¡± He pulled out a single stick from the inside. ¡°Everything else is¡­ damp.¡±

    I glanced up. The sky was darkening rapidly. ¡°I¡¯ll figure something out, if you¡¯ll deal with the fire.¡±

    Next to me, Camilla stepped up. ¡°I was thinking we might share a fire,¡± she offered. ¡°Since-¡°

    I turned away from her, heading towards the tree. She¡¯d left me for dead! She hadn¡¯t earned fried mushrooms.

    Behind me, ignorning the conversation, Gnaeus had started strumming. I winced. It sounded like someone was dying and pleading for mercy. How was he somehow out of tune and out of rhythm?

    O Teuthida, you¡¯ve seen our hearts,

    But you¡¯ve missed all of our other arts,

    We can answer any riddle that may vex,

    Or free you from a fisherman¡¯s nets,

    Or the greatest art in any hall, to see no truth at all!

    O Teuthida, you¡¯ve seen the truth,

    But for each folly of youth,

    There is the wisdom of a learned sage,

    A whim that can cure your-

    ¡°That¡¯s enough,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m not being calmed. Neither is Teuthida. I have to concentrate if we¡¯re not going to be poisoned.¡±

    They looked like edible mushrooms. I crouched down and inspected them from every angle, trying to make the most of the light. They were growing on a tree stump, away from the water. I poked one, trying to inspect the gills.

    ¡°I just think we might have gotten off to the wrong start,¡± said Camilla, crouching next to me. I yelped and nearly toppled over.

    ¡°You¡¯re worse than Duran!¡± I squinted over my shoulder. He was somewhere beyond my sight, inspecting the garden beds. Hopefully he was just picking some peas. I shuddered. Left on his own¡­

    ¡°I only want to do my best,¡± she continued. ¡°You seem to be very motivated. I don¡¯t see why we can¡¯t work together.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t want to work together until you saw we had dry firewood.¡± I picked some mushrooms, then sniffed them. Edible. Definitely edible. I was¡­ pretty sure.

    I glanced over at her. ¡°Actually, you know what? You can eat with us. On one condition.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll try the mushrooms first,¡± I said. ¡°Call it a test of your bravery.¡±

    She didn¡¯t even hesitate before she nodded. ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll be better than stale bread.¡±

    As it turned out, we needed to send Duran up a tree for some dry limbs and twigs to help get the fire started, and even then it took a good two hours before we even got a smouldering excuse for embers started. It was more smoke than fire, resulting in a coughing, miserable mess.

    I was still damp, and getting hungrier by the moment. I wasn¡¯t willing to wait for a proper flame. I shoved the pan over the smouldering wood and tossed the mushrooms in with some oil, a radish, and the preserved fish from the other room.

    ¡°What recipe are you following, Madame Elysia?¡±

    Duran was hunched next to me, uncaring about the smoke. Oh, to be young and have strong eyes again. I reached up and waved it out of my face again, eyes watering. Gnaeus had started playing the harp again. At this point, I was willing to accept it. Maybe it would prevent the ghost from coming back.

    ¡°No recipe,¡± I said. ¡°It would have been better if you¡¯d brought back peas.¡±

    ¡°They weren¡¯t ready yet!¡±

    I pushed the cubed radish around in the pan. Duran¡¯s job had been to cut it up. He¡¯d actually done a very good job. The knives had been a good gift. ¡°Well, nature is out of my hands.¡±

    I coughed in the smoke again. Apis, next to me, knelt and tried to blow on the fire to kindle it.

    It died.

    I stared at the mushrooms and turnips in the pan. The preserved fish stared back at me, single eye still glossy black.

    ¡°Right,¡± I said. ¡°This is what everyone gets. Bowls out. If you don¡¯t want it, make your own.¡±

    I needed to travel with a sword more often. No one complained as I dished the food out, even though the turnip was still crunchy and the fish oil tasted distinctly of mildew. Camilla even tested the mushrooms without complaint. They were edible. I wasn¡¯t sure if I was disappointed or not.

    As the smoke of the dead fire twisted up towards the skylight, I laid my damp blanket out as a pillow. My back ached. My head hurt. I was seeing visions.

    Across the fire from me, Duran had propped his head on his hands and was staring into the embers. His grin reflected in the fire. Our companions were already asleep, Camilla snoring, Balbinus wheezing. Gaeus had cuddled up with the harp.

    ¡°Do you think we¡¯ll get to fight a ghost tomorrow?¡± He seemed excited at the prospect. Kids.

    ¡°¡®Course not,¡± muttered Apis, face half-smashed into his own blanket. ¡°Ghosts can¡¯t fight you. Not without a necromancer.¡±

    ¡°What does that mean?¡± I whispered, but when I tried to wake him up, he was already snoring. I was left to poke the fire out and stare at the dark water.

    Necromancers. Squid. Scientists. What happened to an old-fashioned temple? Where you just pray?

 21. [Sidequest] Lilypads

    Camilla didn¡¯t understand why the cook was so determined to hold a grudge against her. Yes, she had abandoned her. Briefly. For all Camilla had known, the woman had been dead! There was no point in waiting for a corpse.

    ¡°I know,¡± said Balbinus. He looked over his shoulder. ¡°But if you don¡¯t stop complaining and start walking faster, he¡¯s going to catch up.¡±

    Camilla swallowed, then started speed-walking. Gnaeus was like a particularly persistant mold. Every time she thought she¡¯d gotten rid of him, he just kept showing up, harp and all. How could a man move that fast with an instrument?

    She wouldn¡¯t mind sticking with the cook. At least the food was¡­ fine. Well, better than Camilla could manage. But that morning, she¡¯d woken up to the woman kicking her awake and telling her to ¡®clear out¡¯. Apparently their deal was already over.

    She stopped and held out a hand for Balbinus as they approached a set of lily-pads. They looked almost deliberately set out as a path.

    ¡°You first,¡± she said. ¡°That way I know they¡¯ll hold my weight.¡± Everyone knew the lilypads were meant to be a path in the second ring of the temple- at least, that was what the guide Camilla had purchased had told her.

    After the maze, and the disaster that had been, though, Camilla was taking everything with a grain of salt. What if the temple had changed the system since the guide had been written?

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you test,¡± he offered. ¡°You¡¯re lighter.¡± There was a clanging of harp strings. He sighed. ¡°Fine! I¡¯ll go.¡±

    At least there was sunlight, Camilla reflected. She watched as Balbinus hesitated, then stepped forward. ¡°Move quickly,¡± she offered.

    Too late. He¡¯d put his entire body weight on the lilypad. It collapsed under him. She watched as he disappeared under the surface of the water.

    Oops. He was carrying most of their supplies. She leaned over the edge, holding out a hand. ¡°Come back! I¡¯m here!¡±

    She frowned. He wasn¡¯t coming to surface. ¡°Balbinus!¡±

    There was movement under the water. Had something grabbed him? A splash- a flash of light- she reared back as something pushed out of the water, a few paces away.

    Balbinus! He was holding onto one of the far lilypads, heaving for breath. ¡°This one isn¡¯t real!¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s got a platform underneath!¡±

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Just trust me!¡±

    Camilla bit her lip, then looked back. Chances were, she had to go deeper to find her Councilman. He wouldn¡¯t have given up like Herminius. And Balbinus wouldn¡¯t lie to her. Would he?

    ¡°When have I ever lied to you,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re losing time!¡±

    He was right. They¡¯d been through too much together for her to lose faith in him now. Camilla straightened her pack, then jumped forward. Her foot caught on the lilypad, half-slipping- but something closed around her ankle. Balbinus¡¯s hand.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got you,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s steady, yeah?¡±

    It was. It was too steady. Camilla felt her heart rise in triumph. ¡°They put platforms in the water! You realize what this means?¡±

    ¡°We were meant to come in through a real door, and not the moat?¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t expect us to swim,¡± she said. She glanced over. ¡°Oh, I bet that¡¯s one.¡±

    The lily-pad was too big to be real. She could tell it was dying, just a little. As if its roots were constrained. She jumped forward. Her foot sank, but caught. Another platform! She laughed, turning back. ¡°Come on! It¡¯s simple, really.¡±

    The water was wide, but Camilla saw the path stretching out for her. Of course! Lilypads wanted shallow water, and this was deep. They were fake! A path meant just for her. She jumped from one to the other, blood rushing. She no longer heard Gnaeus behind her. Just like it had always been meant to be, she and Balbinus were exploring the temple. She would find her employer, and he would be proud; he would know she was worthy.

    Balbinus would be there too. Maybe he would help replace her pen (she had gotten it back from the cook, but it was bent! How rude, honestly).

    She glanced back. He¡¯d made it out of the water, and was following her path. She stopped to wait for a few minutes, impossibly standing on top of the water in the center of the water. It was almost like magic.

    She glanced down. What was that? It was like something glimmering in the water. Something moving. But- surely not. Fish weren¡¯t that big¡­ she thought she saw something green and shining. She stepped back, nervous. Were there monsters in the water?

    ¡°Camilla?¡±

    She looked back up. ¡°Oh, yes. Of course. Sorry to hold us up.¡±

    The other side. Hopefully there would be evidence of the rest of their group there. Her councilman was probably at the center of the temple already, but Herminius was surely falling behind. They might as well look for him. She put a hand up and scanned for her next lilypad, then jumped.

    There were other plants at the edge of the water, too. What looked like large reeds, moss, little vines falling in the water. It was nearly overgrown, the flower boxes full of plants. Even trees had managed to live here. Surely it took an army of priestesses just to fertilize and trim them, although she couldn¡¯t think of a more boring job.

    She wondered if it had all been made to disguise these little stepping stones. Camilla wouldn¡¯t put it past Teuthida. The Squid Goddess was known to be tricky.

    Camilla, however, was trickier. She¡¯d always come in at the top of all of her classes. There was no plan she couldn¡¯t follow, and exceed.

    That guide was the best thing she¡¯d ever purchased-

    Her foot landed on the next lilypad. It fell right through. There was no supporting platform. Only a leaf and a vine. Camilla felt herself suspended in air for a moment, everything halting, before all she knew was the cold water.

    Curse you, Teuthida!

 22. Big Woman

    ¡°I just don¡¯t see the pattern,¡± I said, folding my arms. Duran had pushed himself out of the bog again, sputtering. After we¡¯d discovered that some of the lilypads could support weight, he¡¯d volunteered himself as a test subject.

    I certainly wasn¡¯t going to object. I¡¯d had enough swimming for a lifetime.

    ¡°I simply don¡¯t see why we need to get over to the other side,¡± said Apis. ¡°We¡¯re going in, yes? Why would we go the wrong direction?¡±

    He had a point. I watched as Duran swam to another lilypad, standing up triumphantly and then jumping up and down. He slipped sideways, but recovered and saluted me. I looked back down at the Abyssal sword and added more oil to the rag. We needed to spend some time fixing our supplies, whatever the plan was.

    ¡°I hate to say it,¡± I said, ¡°But Vita might actually be helpful. I don¡¯t know how this temple works, and¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± said Apis. He leaned back and stared at Duran for a moment. He gestured for him to come back in. ¡°Well, I think we should look at the interior first. Get a lay of the land.¡±

    I finished oiling the blade as Duran splashed back. He pushed his hair out of his face, grinning. ¡°It¡¯s so cool, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Apis stood up. ¡°Let¡¯s go for a walk.¡±

    My socks were still wet, but I didn¡¯t really want to wait the amount of time needed for them to dry out. I stood up, water squishing out, and nodded.

    We began circling the temple in a counter-clockwise direction, decided by a coin-flip. It quickly became clear that they¡¯d designed most of the temple in such a repetitive way that even after walking for ages, it was nearly impossible to tell how far you¡¯d gone.

    ¡°At least this one¡¯s different.¡±

    We stared up. And up. I had thought the previous statues of Teuthida were large. I didn¡¯t make it to the knees (or¡­ half-tentacles?) of this one. She still had the same half-bored look on this one.

    ¡°Wow,¡± said Duran. ¡°Ten hands! Think of everything she could do!¡±

    ¡°Stop climbing the statue, that¡¯s sacriligeous,¡± I said, but there wasn¡¯t any heart in it. I leaned back as he slid back down the tentacle. Apparently they oiled them up.

    The giant hands were at least a tree¡¯s height above ground, all outstretched and in wait for an offering. Teuthida herself was brushing the curve of the arch, tentacles going out in all directions. They were splayed out wide enough you could walk under her and touch the wall, if you so desired.

    I declined to do so, at this time. It looked like someone had camped there recently; I saw what looked like the remnants of a fire. If Duran climbing the statue was sacriligeous, I wondered how bad smoking out the underside of a goddess was. Probably bad enough that you should dedicate yourself to someone else for the eternal fields.

    Apis had ducked under a thick tentacle and was staring at the wall beyond. ¡°It looks plain to me,¡± he said, sounding disappointed. ¡°I thought this one might have¡­ a door, or something.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t trust doors in this temple.¡± I sighed. I would have to go under, after all. ¡°Half of the doors we¡¯ve seen here were hidden.¡±

    Yet when I got underneath, I still saw nothing. I frowned, putting my hand in against the wall. Nothing. Not even a change in the bricks. Not a single carved squid!

    I squinted into the shadows, hoping for the ghost to come back. Even he had abandoned me. I thumped my head against the wall. ¡°It¡¯s a failure,¡± I called out.

    When I emerged, Apis had opened the top of a jar of fish and was handing one out, cold, to Duran. Duran seemed to be nursing a bruise on his knee. Had he tried climbing again?

    ¡°It just looks like there¡¯s a way to climb up to the hands,¡± he said, stubborn. ¡°If I could only jump from tentacle to tentacle¡­¡±

    ¡°Eat your fish,¡± said Apis. ¡°The oil is good for healing.¡±

    I took a fish without comment and stared out at the water. ¡°Well,¡± I said. ¡°Might as well finish the circuit.

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    I had been counting columns, with all of them being extremely similar- the only differences being the plants grown in the planter boxes on the walls between. After losing count, I¡¯d eventually given up and started carving in numbers.

    As we started walking again, I ran my finger over the tip of my self-defense knife. It was starting to dull. That was what I got, for using it on stone.

    When we finally made it around the inner circle of the water, the sky was starting to go pink with the sunset.

    ¡°So,¡± I said, ¡°That¡¯s nineteen.¡±

    Nineteen columns. Twenty sections. I folded my arms. That was a pretty good distance, given how much space was in between each column.

    ¡°Some of them have vegetables, and some only have flowers,¡± offered Duran. ¡°And some only have poison, which you got really mad about.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Duran.¡±

    ¡°I saved some, just in case,¡± he continued. He held out a handful of flowers. Nightshade.

    I closed my eyes. ¡°¡­Thank you, Duran.¡±

    ¡°Only five of the sections had a carved squid,¡± offered Apis. ¡°And there was the extra large column, with the Teuthida statue. Surely that¡¯s important.¡±

    I rubbed at my face. Seasonal flowers. Why had they bothered planting seasonal flowers, in a temple? Why had the squid images only been above the flowers? Teuthida was taking Andrena¡¯s categories again. You need to yell at her in the spirit world. She¡¯s infringing on you.

    I sat up, then sighed. We¡¯d stopped next to one of the flower bays. Dark pansies were interspersed with the last of golden narsturium, interlaced with beds of oleander and nightshade.

    It was pretty, yes. Someone had maintained it well, although it had clearly been let go in the last month or so- I saw more dead flowers than living on the narsturium and oleander, as the season ended.

    But why had they planted poison in a temple?

    I stared up at the squid. It was larger than most, each of the tentacles taking up a separate brick and pointing to an individual garden bed. The head popped out, little squiddy eyes seeming to judge me.

    Apis leaned over the garden bed, running a hand through the flowers. ¡°What if this is a test?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°What if she¡¯s testing people on what she would prefer?¡±

    I stared up at the squid. He was right. It made sense. Especially since all of the squid we¡¯d seen so far indicated a test or a choice of some kind. I reached up, hesitant, and pressed on the tentacle slightly. The stone ground in, then pressed back out to its former position when I didn¡¯t fully commit.

    ¡°But what¡¯s the right choice,¡± I said. ¡°Poison, or peace?¡±

    Ten tentacles. Ten choices. I swallowed. Teuthida seemed like the type to want a morally gray choice- to choose poison. But I was a cook. I couldn¡¯t go around just choosing poison.

    I reached up and began to press in the first tentacle, the one that ended by pointing to a bed of narsturium and pansies. I felt it begin to click- and Duran launched up to pull my hand down.

    I ducked. Nothing happened.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    ¡°Madam Elysia,¡± he said. ¡°Teuthida is the goddess of illusion! A flower looks pretty, but it might kill you if it¡¯s poison. Doesn¡¯t that sound like her?¡±

    I bit at my lip, then glanced over to Apis. ¡°Well? What do you think?¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°Andrena would want you to choose the edible flowers.¡±

    That decided it. I reached up and pushed in the first poison tentacle. It clicked in with a decisive sound.

    I waited for a long, agonizing moment. Nothing happened. I swallowed, then tried to pull it back out again. It wouldn¡¯t come back. ¡°I guess we¡¯re decided, then.¡±

    I already regretted my choice, but the rest of the tentacles were easy to select. Perhaps not everyone knew which flowers were edible, but I¡¯d seen a few fancy dinners in my time. You served the wrong flower, and everyone noticed. Especially when it was actively poisonous.

    I still hesitated over the last tentacle.

    ¡°It¡¯s definitely nightshade, Madam Elysia,¡± Duran offered.

    ¡°I know, I just¡­¡± I didn¡¯t like selecting poison. I didn¡¯t like this entire temple! I was convinced I¡¯d push in the stone and another dart would come out to kill me. After a moment of hesitation, I ducked down, then reached up with the sword to push in the last one.

    There was the scraping of stone. Silence.

    I stared at the ground. ¡°Well,¡± I said, ¡°There¡¯s always tomorrow. If a bunch of pilgrims can manage it, I¡¯m sure we can-¡±

    There was another grinding. I looked up. The head of the squid had rotated. Behind it was a little cubby, small gears supporting it. The inside of the squid had been hollowed out and lined in what looked like velvet (very dark, well dyed. I could hear the money adding up in my head). On a small cushion, gleaming¡­

    ¡°Is that a diamond!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s got to be glass,¡± I said, standing up. I still held back, holding the sword up. ¡°They wouldn¡¯t spend that much money on pilgrims. Would they?¡±

    It was carved into the shape of a teardrop. I stepped forward, squinting. It was large enough to fill the palm of my hand. I stared at it for a moment, hesitant to touch it. What if I wasn¡¯t meant to touch it?

    With a grinding sound, the squid head began to rotate closed again. Impulse took over. I reached forward and snatched the teardrop gem off of the cushion. When the squid head snapped closed, I was left with it in my hand.

    I glanced over each shoulder, but no one had come out with a crossbow or a dart. There was only me, shining gem in hand. I looked down at it. It was smooth, with only one side rounded. The other side was perfectly flat, the edges sharp enough to feel like they might cut my hand.

    It was also perfectly clear, save for a few reflective shining spots in the center. ¡°It¡¯s not a diamond,¡± I said, but I was losing confidence. ¡°What kind of overconfident fool would give diamonds to a bunch of pilgrims? Don¡¯t they know the world is full of thieves?¡±

    Apis leaned forward and peered at it. ¡°Oh,¡± he said. ¡°That¡¯s where all the budget money¡¯s been going.¡±

 23. [Sidequest] Honesty

    Wherever St¨¢li went, he couldn¡¯t avoid them. They crowded behind his shoulders. They watched him sharpening his axe. When he fished, they even grabbed onto his line, like he might leave them in his water.

    Last night, he¡¯d even woken up to go take a piss, gone and unbuttoned his pants, all alone. Then, when he¡¯d turned to go back to his mat- a pair of glowing green eyes in the dark. He¡¯d nearly fainted.

    ¡°It can¡¯t go on like this,¡± he hissed, out of earshot of their visitor.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± said his sister, prim. She was surrounded by her own cloud of ghosts. They hunched around her shoulders. One of them was attempting to throttle her, hands going through her carotid artery and hovering somewhere around her throat. As usual, S¨®lveig paid them no mind.

    ¡°Yes, I said we needed a change. I didn¡¯t say we needed to use all of our weapons at once!¡± He flung his hands out. ¡°We aren¡¯t using them. The longer they just stand around, the longer they¡­ they¡­ I don¡¯t like the way they look at me!¡±

    This was what he got for working with S¨®lveig. One ghost, he had suggested. A minor summoning, to get things rolling. He had taken his eyes off of her, and they had ended up with half of the population following them!

    ¡°I gave you a chance to take charge. You did not. We cannot be stuck in this stupid stone prison forever. Thus, we must use our weapons.¡± She turned and glared at him. The look was so sharp St¨¢li nearly stumbled back. The ghost attempting to throttle her even pulled his hands back. ¡°If you hadn¡¯t been such a coward, this wouldn¡¯t have needed to happen.¡±

    ¡°I understand maybe using one or two,¡± said St¨¢li. This always happened! He would come for a normal conversation, and S¨®lveig escalated it for no reason. He should have never agreed to this horrible mission. He should have stayed home, and taken that flower-arranging job, no matter what his mother said about it. Now he was surrounded by ghosts, and blood, and axes, and some strange southern councilman! ¡°But not all of them! We won¡¯t have any left if we really need them!¡±

    ¡°We do need them,¡± she said. ¡°We need something more than just strength. We need information.¡± She stood, folding her arms. ¡°We used to just be the muscle. Now we can run the mission. This isn¡¯t a demotion- it¡¯s an opportunity.¡± St¨¢li stepped back. They were tucked behind a tree, where the councilman couldn¡¯t see them. He was also out of reach of his axe, and he was too-aware of it.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I want that opportunity,¡± he said. ¡°Have you met the others? They¡¯re horrible. Not to mention the paperwork.¡±

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    As usual, she ignored him and kept talking. ¡°I have heard such interesting gossip. There isn¡¯t just one source of blood in this temple, St¨¢li. There are two.¡±

    St¨¢li closed his eyes. She was poking him in the chest. ¡°I really don¡¯t think we should do anything without Flaviana,¡± he said. ¡°Especially not- that. You¡¯re going to trust their word? They once called a bear an agent of death!¡±

    ¡°They were not wrong.¡±

    ¡°They want to lie to you, S¨®lveig! They know you want to hurt people. They want to see you defeated. What if this second source of blood is actually just a man with twenty swords or something?¡±

    ¡°Then I shall defeat him, and every sword shall be mine.¡± S¨®lveig smiled. ¡°Well. Maybe I will give you one sword, as thanks.¡±

    The green cluster of ghosts behind her had dispersed slightly, but they clustered tighter together at that. St¨¢li caught a set of glares. There were enough ghostly weapons that it was spiked like a hedgehog, the images of ancient armor.

    He avoided eye contact. ¡°I¡¯m going to go speak to our companion,¡± he said, instead.

    S¨®lveig waved him off. ¡°As long as you¡¯re ready. I¡¯ve gotten some information on how to move forward in this temple. Get your things packed.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Leave,¡± he said, as soon as he got around the tree.

    Domitius looked up. He was wrapping a piece of cloth around what looked like a blister on his heel. ¡°I beg your pardon?¡±

    ¡°My sister,¡± St¨¢li said. ¡°She is, ah¡­ not well.¡± He paused. ¡°Ill. Horrible sickness. Plague.¡± He coughed, twice. ¡°Very bad. You should go. As fast as possible.¡±

    He stopped moving. Domitius still hadn¡¯t left.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± he said, ¡°But something¡¯s not adding up. S¨®lveig seems, uh, very healthy to me.¡±

    Behind the tree, S¨®lveig threw another axe and gave one of their people¡¯s famous battle cries. St¨¢li closed his eyes in defeat. ¡°Ill in the mind,¡± he said.

    Domitius looked politely confused. He had spread out across the campsite, propping his boots up next to the embers to try and get them to dry. A line of fish was spread out across the logs. He seemed to be one of the few people who prayed so little to the gods he couldn¡¯t see ghosts at all. He had been peacefully unbothered for the last few days, even as ghosts poked at the fish, poked at the fire, looked over his shoulder and pretended to untie his boots.

    St¨¢li wished he could say the same.

    ¡°She wants to kill you,¡± he said, finally. ¡°She¡¯s always wanted to kill you. She hates southerners, she hates you in particular, and she really wants to kill everyone. I can¡¯t really control her, and I am really regretting going on this journey in the first place.¡±

    He wasn¡¯t entirely sure that his vocabulary in the southern langauge worked for all of that, so he spread his hands and made a sort of slide across his throat, then pointed to Domitius. The councilman, who was a rather down-trodden looking man in his mid-thirties, stiffened in surprise.

    ¡°Really!¡±

    St¨¢li nodded.

    ¡°And she really-¡±

    St¨¢li nodded again.

    ¡°Well,¡± said Domitus. ¡°I. Hm.¡±

    ¡°You should really go,¡± said St¨¢li. ¡°I¡¯ll help you pack.¡±

    The ghosts tried to help, too. One of them stuck his tongue out at Stali as he shoved the fish into Domitus¡¯s bag. Stali tried to avoid looking.

 24. Mushroom Horrors

    Duran bit the gem. We didn¡¯t learn anything about whether or not it was a diamond from the exercise. ¡°I mean, it has to be,¡± he said, peering at me through it. His eye was magnified. ¡°Otherwise, why would they leave it in a squid?¡±

    ¡°You can leave anything in that squid,¡± I said. Honestly, I was starting to believe it was a diamond too, but that didn¡¯t mean I was going to agree with him verbally. He needed some challenges in his life. ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s going to become a diamond.¡± I held out a hand. ¡°I¡¯ll keep hold of it, in case it¡¯s important.¡±

    He handed it over surprisingly quickly, then peered over at the garden beds. ¡°Can we have some flowers with dinner?¡±

    ¡°Pick some narsturium,¡± I said. ¡°But if I catch you with any nightshade, you¡¯ll be the one forced to eat it. ¡±

    Where we¡¯d spent the night was relatively close. Apis and I headed over, poking at the remnants of our ashes. It was depressing. I tipped over a log, pressing a finger to the edge of it. It felt¡­ a little drier.

    ¡°I suppose I¡¯ll try again,¡± he offered.

    ¡°We¡¯re all going to be more smoked than jerky by the end of this journey,¡± I muttered, but I waved him onwards and started digging through our supplies. If I¡¯d gone through all of the effort of bringing jars of preserves, I was going to eat them.

    It seemed that the day of drying made all the difference, because this time, when Apis sparked it up the fire caught easily. I caught his eyes, unbelieving, over the flame.

    ¡°Don¡¯t say it,¡± he warned. ¡°You¡¯ll scare it off.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just glad I¡¯ll be able to dry something.¡±

    I pulled my socks off as fast as I could manage. After a moment of thought, I propped my boots up near the fire as well. If we only got a few moments of a fire, I¡¯d take dry boots before anything else. After a moment, I began digging through for our cooking tools.

    ¡°Good news,¡± I said, as I heard Duran¡¯s footsteps crunch up. ¡°Tonight, the turnips will be soft and the fish will be crunchy!¡±

    He held up his haul. ¡°Recipe twenty,¡± he said, hopeful. ¡°Mushroom stuffing?¡±

    It was very aspirational, but I didn¡¯t see why not. ¡°Go ahead. Although I don¡¯t know where you¡¯re getting the rest of the ingredients.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll just substitute!¡±

    Well, that made me a little more fearful. I just hoped he hadn¡¯t found anything poisonous out there. My back was already aching as I leaned against a log, stretching out my leg. I held the diamond out in the flames, watching it sparkle. ¡°It has to be important.¡±

    Duran was working on cutting up a few more of the mushrooms I had gathered yesterday. He looked up at my comment, eyebrows drawing together. ¡°It¡¯s what the big woman wants,¡± he said.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Teuthida,¡± said Apis. He was pulling off his own boots. ¡°That¡¯s what he meant, I believe. She had outstretched hands.¡±

    I tucked the teardrop into a pocket in my cloak. Now that he mentioned it¡­ ¡°We have to find three more of these?¡± Exactly like Teuthida. Like any goddess. Another pointless quest.

    ¡°We¡¯ll figure it out tomorrow,¡± I said, my eyes already drooping low. How had I come into this temple to find Duran¡¯s father and ended up participating in Teuthida¡¯s quests? This was all wrong. ¡°Duran, is that done yet?¡±

    He¡¯d created some¡­ dough, if I wanted to call it that, and was pressing it into our one pan. It sizzled half-heartedly as it went over the fire.

    ¡°Is it supposed to look like that?¡±

    I leaned over and sniffed it, then gave it a poke with the spoon. Maybe I should have been supervising his cooking instead of thinking about quests and diamonds.

    Goddesses. Not even once.

    ¡°I¡¯ll have a pickle tonight,¡± I said, scooting further away from Duran¡¯s horror. ¡°You can test it yourself. Ah, you don¡¯t earn the recipe.¡±

    His shoulders lowered a little. ¡°I¡¯ll try it,¡± offered Apis.

    Duran held out a piece on the end of the spoon. Apis¡¯s hand was steady as he took the offered spoon and tried a piece. As soon as Duran turned his back Apis spit the bite out into his handkerchief. He looked a little green.

    ¡°Try to dispose of that properly,¡± I said, lying back and reaching for our remaining preserves. ¡°We don¡¯t want to poison the fish.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Well,¡± I said. ¡°Now what?¡±

    The sun had risen, but much before that I¡¯d been woken by an aching in my bones and the cold leeching into my skin. I was too old to go around sleeping in temples, especially at this time of year. I could see my breath and the dew on the walls.

    We couldn¡¯t be done with this soon enough. It hadn¡¯t been hard to rouse Apis- he¡¯d been awake already, resorting our supplies- and Duran had woken easily enough, eager to go try and find the remaining gems.

    Now we were at another set of garden beds, underneath another squid carving. I was beginning to hate the creatures. The fried version was fine, but in stone form¡­ they just had too many legs. You certainly couldn¡¯t eat them.

    Unlike the last set of garden beds, these were mostly empty. One set still had a few turnips left, but someone had clearly come through and picked it all out.

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    I ran my hands through one of the empty dirt beds and squinted. Someone had clearly not understood that harvesting means you leave part of the plant behind. Either that, or a priestess had a black thumb.

    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s the same test as last time, and we need to push in the one that¡¯s got poison,¡± said Duran. He was barely tall enough to reach the garden bed, standing up on his tip-toes. Apis was well behind us, crouching in the dirt and looking at something. Probably a worm or something of the like.

    ¡°There isn¡¯t any poison left.¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°Maybe they wanted the poison.¡±

    I looked along the row of garden beds. They were staggered, some higher up, some lower. All about an arm¡¯s length wide, and carved out of the same pale stone as the temple with decoration of waves.

    All empty. ¡°So you want us to press in all of the tentacles,¡± I said. Why was I taking advice from Duran?

    ¡°I guess?¡±

    ¡°They really harvested everything?¡±

    We both turned. Apis had finally caught up with us. He shrugged, looking sheepish. ¡°I thought there might be a code or something in the way the path was built, since some of the stones have the same pattern carved in them as the¡­¡± He coughed. ¡°Ah, it turns out they¡¯re all waves. Like the ocean.¡±

    ¡°Because she¡¯s a squid?¡±

    ¡°Because she¡¯s a squid.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad you checked.¡± We both turned back to the garden beds. ¡°Why can the puzzle never be straightforward? I¡¯m not cut out for this sort of thing.¡±

    Apis had stepped up to one of the garden beds and was digging through it thoughtfully. ¡°Remember last month, when the new girl said we were getting her order wrong on purpose?¡±

    I squinted at him accusingly, then turned to my own planter box, also empty. Was he looking for seeds? As I combed through the dirt, all I found were a few rotting leaves. I held them up to the light, trying to identify them. ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°You interrogated everyone, but no one would be a reliable witness and say she was trying to frame you because she didn¡¯t want to pay.¡±

    ¡°They were all cowards. Nothing new!¡±

    ¡°Yes, but not everyone would be able to prove she was lying. Especially with only a napkin as evidence.¡±

    ¡°She was insulting all of us! My path of vengeance was perfectly normal. Justified, even.¡±

    ¡°I liked your path of vengeance. I¡¯m saying that if anyone could find traces of poison plants from dirt, it would be you,¡± said Apis. ¡°Although I¡¯m not sure you needed to send Duran to break into her room.¡±

    Duran had finally dug to the bottom of the planter box. He pulled his hands out, dirt underneath his nails. ¡°There¡¯s nothing there, Madam Elysia. Just stone.¡±

    Apis had retreived a single seed. I didn¡¯t need to look at it long. ¡°Turnips,¡± I said, and then looked away to hide my satisfaction. ¡°Obviously! You don¡¯t need me to identify that. Everyone knows what a turnip seed looks like.¡±

    I pulled another decomposing leaf out of the empty planter box underneath my hands. It was recognizable now. Nightshade.

    Did I want to hope that the puzzle was the same for each squid?

    ¡°We¡¯re gambling on poison again?¡±

    I turned to face my companions. Apis nodded. Duran shrugged. Once again, it was up to me. I sighed. ¡°Everyone duck.¡±

    I gave them a few seconds to brace themselves. A faint howling wind ran past my hair again, ruffling my cloak. There was something horribly empty about this place. For a second, I thought I saw another green shimmer behind a tree.

    Was the vision in the bear armor back?

    Then it was gone, and it was time. I had to make my decisions. I turned towards the squid carving.

    Ten tentacles. Ten garden beds. Only one with any plant still growing in it. I reached up and pressed in the tentacle above the bed I had just been checking, the third one along; the one with nightshade leaves in it. Stupid, Elysia. Anyone could put leaves in a garden bed. It¡¯s so easy to sabatoge.

    The stone ground in. It stayed in.

    Nothing happened.

    I let out a minute breath. So. One challenge down. I moved to the right, glanced over the garden beds. Last time, the poison and the healthy flowers and food had mostly alternated. But there had been some tricks there. Did I want to bet on the garden beds alternating again?

    I skipped one bed, then reached up and pushed another tentacle in. Another hesitant silence. No punishment.

    Maybe I was worrying for nothing. Perhaps the temple had spent all of their money on diamonds and there was nothing left for punishing fools who didn¡¯t figure out the tentacle puzzle right.

    I stepped over again, alternating temple beds again.

    On my back, I felt a strange heat. Not quite like fire. As I reached forward, over the garden bed, my fingers began to tingle. Like my hand had begun to fall asleep.

    I blinked. For a moment, I thought I saw a bee perched on the back of my fingers.

    Well, well, well.

    Her voice echoed so loudly I glanced over my shoulder, looking for her. But there was no Andrena. Only Apis and Duran, hiding behind a column and a tree, respectively. A few plants. The rippling of the water.

    ¡°I thought you were busy,¡± I hissed.

    You keep almost dying. I¡¯ve diverted more attention to you.

    The sword heated more. I reached for it, trying to pull it off my back, but my hands tingled more. I shuddered.

    ¡°Whatever you¡¯re doing, stop!¡±

    It¡¯s hard for me to appear here uninvited. It¡¯s like¡­ if you attempted to break into someone else¡¯s house. Forgive me, but I need to use the sword as a path. Unless you want to invite me into your mind?

    My fingers tingled further.

    ¡°I¡¯m not letting you in my head.¡±

    Even if I could help?

    For a moment, the sword was so hot I thought it might actually burn me. As I began to yelp, my fingers moved with a force not my own, snapping and pointing at the garden bed. There was a golden shimmer. A smell of the fresh green of spring, the faint haze after rain. Then, as I blinked, a tiny green sprout.

    As it began to climb, leaves starting to unfurl, my hand went limp. Under my control again. The sword cooled just before it did any real damage.

    You see? This is what I could do if you only let us work together.

    Andrena sounded way too smug for someone who¡¯d just stolen my body.  ¡°This wasn¡¯t in the fine print,¡± I muttered. ¡°I don¡¯t want you in my body. Get out!¡±

    Most people aren¡¯t this stubborn. Don¡¯t you want to acquire your¡­

    The silence was a little too long.

    There is a man you are seeking? Your¡­ husband? Employer?

    ¡°Next time, find out what I want before you try to steal my body,¡± I said. ¡°And get out.¡± For a moment, I thought it hadn¡¯t worked. If walling my mind off depended on how determined I was¡­

    For a moment, I had been tempted. What if working with Andrena could get me through quickly? I could work with her for just a few days, then kick her out and be through.

    No. The gods don¡¯t work that way. The instant I said yes, I¡¯d be stuck under her heel forever- even through the afterlife.

    I shuddered. I had to keep my mind walled off.I breathed in. I breathed out. My mind remained empty.

    For a moment my hands twitched towards the sword. It would probably be safer to throw it away- deep into the canal, where she couldn¡¯t use it to access me anymore. After a moment, I pulled it off and put it on the ground. Even if it was horrible and a little cursed, a big sword was a big sword.

    ¡°Is everything all right?¡± Apis called. ¡°It¡¯s been a while.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m thinking.¡± I stared at the sprout. I could see the small leaf starting to form. Rosemary- completely edible. If Andrena hadn¡¯t possessed my body, I would have pressed in that tentacle and lost the gem.

    I swallowed. Andrena, I still say no. I had never wanted to be a Paladin. I still didn¡¯t want to be. I certainly didn¡¯t want her in my head, in my body, or anything of the sort.

    Even if it came with cool magical powers. I pressed the tentacle in above the garden bed to the right of it, then stepped over and pressed the final tentacle. Even if Andrena had helped, it was still a matter of luck. I ducked as soon as the tentacle pressed in.

    With a grinding sound, the squid¡¯s head began to rotate.

 25. An Axe to a Swordfight

    I looked up after the grinding stopped to check if there was another diamond. Above where I had been cradling my head in my arms- to protect my neck from darts- was an axe. Aimed directly at my neck, as it happened.

    Well sharpened, was my first, illogical thought. Not many people aimed axes at me. I almost glanced over my shoulder to check for who it was aimed at before I thought better of it and looked up the blade and towards who was holding it.

    She wasn¡¯t very tall. More compact. Pale skin. Paler hair. As if she¡¯d been born and raised in this temple, no light to speak of.

    She wasn¡¯t even looking at me, which was the most insulting thing. I had a big sword! Well, usually.

    The axe blade stayed firmly pointed down at my throat as the woman stepped over my prone body and reached forward to take the diamond inside of the squid.

    Wait. Why was I just letting her do that?

    I had a big sword.

    I rolled away from the edge of the axe, reaching for the sword where I¡¯d thrown it to the side. At this moment, I wouldn¡¯t even object to Andrena coming in for a little bit of godly intervention.

    Behind me, I could hear the squid head grinding closed. I unsheathed the Abyssal Blade.

    It gleamed in the light. Sharp. Well-oiled.

    I had never used a sword before. It couldn¡¯t be that hard, could it?

    I turned around. The woman had the gem in one hand. In the other, she held the giant axe. Her muscles tensed. She was striped with muscle and scars. When she smiled at me, it wasn¡¯t kind.

    She said something to me. I didn¡¯t recognize the words.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to have to translate,¡± I said. I hefted the sword in my hands. ¡°I don¡¯t speak the Northern dialect.¡±

    Some words were universal. She slipped the gem into her chestplate- rude, I would have to touch that later- rolled her eyes, and moved to a two-handed grip on the axe, rolling her right shoulder. Casual. She even cracked her neck. She had to be in her mid-twenties at most. I was willing to bet both of her knees still worked. This wasn¡¯t a fair fight at all.

    I felt my gut drop. ¡°Actually,¡± I said, ¡°Let¡¯s look at this logically. I earned that gem. You can¡¯t just go up and steal-¡±

    That was when she came at me with the axe.

    In a panic, I tried to deflect it. I missed. However, the weight of the sword was enough that I stumbled back and she missed, too.

    For a second, we stared at each other, mutually stunned by my incompetence. Unfortunately, she wasn¡¯t stunned for long. She came at my knees. I turned and ran.

    It turned out that didn¡¯t work, either. I tripped and rolled away from another thud of the axe next to my ears. It severed a few strands of hair. She was shouting more in the northern dialect.

    Why hadn¡¯t I practiced with the sword? It felt foolish and too big in my hands now.

    Andrena? Do you have any swordfighting powers? I could use them right now!

    I rolled away again, kicking at the woman¡¯s knees. She jumped over my kick.

    ¡°You aren¡¯t a pilgrim,¡± I muttered, hand slipping on my sword. I swung it up to try and hit her again. She danced back, then hauled up the axe for another try. I had another few moments at best. We were closer to the water now. I glanced back. Should I just jump in? Would she be crazy enough to follow me in?

    I pushed myself back up into a standing position and tried a two handed swing. For the first time, the axe met the sword in midair. I felt the impact all up my arms. It nearly knocked me over. Was this what knights dealt with?

    She slammed again. The axe slid up the blade- as it approached the guard, she leaned in. I dropped the sword in a panic. She hauled the axe up, and I felt my heart nearly stop.

    Then she stumbled to the side. Something had just hit her at full speed.

    ¡°Grab the sword, Madam Elysia!¡±

    Duran. I stared at him, then grabbed for the sword. The woman threw Duran off easily, but now that he was distracting her she didn¡¯t seem to know who to focus on. He had one of his paring knives, trying to stab her. She kicked out at him, scrunching her nose in disgust.

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    While she was distracted, I swiped at her with the sword. When I made contact, the edge of the blade swiping against one of her exposed arms, I almost didn¡¯t believe it until I saw a blood begin to bead up along her shoulder.

    My heart was racing. Could we do it?

    Duran tried to stab the woman again. She slapped out at him, hitting him across the face with the back of her hand while she advanced on me with the axe. With her free hand, she reached across and swiped away some of the blood from her cut.

    As she made eye contact with me, she licked some off of her fingers and smiled.

    So. She was crazy.

    She reached out and snapped her fingers, saying more in her language. I waved my sword in front of me vaguely. ¡°Don¡¯t get any closer! And give it back- there¡¯s more where that came from!¡±

    When in doubt, be intimidating. Although she didn¡¯t seem very intimidated.

    She looked to the right. I followed her gaze, although I kept glancing back at her face in case it was a feint. It was as if the woman had given up on attacking me for the moment, which I could only take as a blessing. I was hardly equipped for a fight.

    Where her eyes tracked was a green glimmer of light. Then another. Then another.

    From behind the trees, from behind the bushes- emerging from the walls, and up from the dirt. They emerged as hands pulling themselves up from the ground, from mists condensing into shapes. From eyes blinking and growing into entire faces.

    Not just one man in bear armor.

    An entire army.

    All watching the woman. I looked between her and the green ghosts. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡±

    She put a second hand on her axe and swung it back and forth, then smiled. There was blood left on her teeth.

    Behind her, Duran was still prone on the ground. I felt a spike of rage and held the sword back up. ¡°Well, do your best.¡±

    I shouldn¡¯t have said that. Her best was very good, and my best was a little worse than nothing. I ducked another attack from the axe, then tried to stab her and felt the axe glance across my arm, leaving burning pain in its wake.

    Wincing, I stumbled back.

    The ghosts moved faster than I had expected. They were a horde, now, more than I could count. They made it hard to see the space beyond. I couldn¡¯t see the column Apis had been hiding behind, (had he run? I hoped he had) everything obscured by eyes, faces, spectral armor.

    They were reaching for me, too. Grabbing for my arm. For the blood dripping there.

    As they grabbed for the blood, I thought I saw them growing more solid. Stronger. Were they eating me?

    I stepped back. The woman in front of me was still smiling. I swung the sword out, feeling childishly vengeful. Was this how it would end? What a stupid way to die. Killed for a gem I barely cared about, looking for an alcoholic ex-employer who had barely remembered my name.

    Hopefully those kids would feed the bees-

    As I swung the sword, every ghost I touched dissolved.

    I blinked. Of course. It was an Abyssal Blade. It sent cursed souls to the stars. I glanced around. ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± I said, waving the sword at the ghosts. ¡°Get back! There¡¯s more where that came from!¡±

    I waved it again. Another ghost dissolved into sparks of green under the barest touch of the blade. A few more ghosts stepped back. I thought I saw fear on their faces.

    If these ghosts work for her, then why were they helping me?

    I glanced between them. Now that they were stepping back, I could see Duran sprawled out behind the woman. She was raising her axe again, but Duran was stirring. I could catch my breath.

    ¡°Duran,¡± I shouted. ¡°Can you move?¡±

    He pushed himself up. ¡°Yes!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re swimming,¡± I said. ¡°On three.¡±

    Wherever Apis was, he would have to fend for himself. If I had to fight that axe-woman again, I would die. For sure. I met her eyes once more- she was staring at the ghosts, brow furrowed. When she looked at me, she looked almost disconcerted. Like she never would have expected me to survive.

    When she reached to grip her axe tighter again, I knew it was time to leave. ¡°Three,¡± I said, and began backing up, the blade still out.

    Duran was already running. Ghosts widened their eyes as he darted straight through their torsos, splashing into the canal. I followed him.

    When I came up, gasping for air, hand still tight on the blade as I kicked, it was to see the woman staring down into the water at me.

    I waited until I was halfway across to look back. She was still staring. All the way across. Why wasn¡¯t she chasing me?

    I shuddered. Had she already gotten what she wanted?

    <hr>

    ¡°We can¡¯t just leave him.¡±

    We didn¡¯t have supplies. We were wet, cold, and I was trying to wipe off the abyssal blade. Also, every time I saw anything shining I kept thinking it was a ghost. Duran was shivering in the night. A good bruise had started to develop across his face.

    What did I get us into?

    I shuddered. I had heard a lot of stories as a kid, but bloodsucking ghosts were new. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t just leave him,¡± I said, staring across the canal. ¡°If I knew where he was. But Apis is a pretty smart person. I¡¯m sure he just ran.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± muttered Duran. ¡°What if he thought they needed help? Or what if they had bees?¡±

    ¡°They probably didn¡¯t have bees.¡±

    ¡°But you don¡¯t know that.¡±

    We still hadn¡¯t crossed back to check our camp. I slumped back and wrung my sock out again.

    ¡°Look,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯re hurt. It¡¯s not right that someone- well, she might have killed you. If you want to, we could go home.¡± Please say you want to go home.

    Duran straightened up. ¡°No! We can¡¯t go!¡± He leaned in. ¡°What if they¡¯re why the temple is closed?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re just here to find your father,¡± I said. Not that we¡¯d been successful. Or even gotten close. ¡°Even if they are why the temple¡¯s closed, you saw how she fought. How are we supposed to do something about that?¡±

    ¡°We could be tricky! What if we did what the third cycle of the great heros did, and cooked her a big meal that was actually poison? Or if we dug a big pit, and filled it with spikes? Or if we-¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± I muttered. ¡°I need to stop letting you listen to bards.¡±

    As much as the bruise across Duran¡¯s face looked bad, his energy stayed high until he fell asleep partway through his third explanation of how to dig a spike pit. I was left to stare across the canal, where we¡¯d fought the axe woman.

    I stayed awake as long as I could, hands on the sword. Me, after all this time- on watch. It was almost laughable. Apis will be fine. He can handle himself. I could almost believe it.

 26. [Sidequest] Intimidation

    ¡°I really am sorry about this.¡±

    ¡°Oh, no,¡± said Apis. He tried to roll his shoulders and try to bring some feeling back into his fingers, but he was stopped by the rope tied around his hands. ¡°Ah, I¡¯m sure this will all work out well enough.¡±

    ¡°It won¡¯t.¡± The man was speaking with a heavy northern accent. He sounded rather sad. Apis almost wished he¡¯d succeeded in fighting against him, but he¡¯d been taken quite by surprise. Before he¡¯d realized what was happening, he¡¯d been knocked over, at swordpoint, and tied up and on his way. ¡°Really. What happens next, you must understand, this was not my choice.¡±

    ¡°It sounds as if you should lodge an ethical objection with your employer,¡± said Apis. He stopped walking and turned to stare at his captor. Not past thirty, by the lines in his face. Messy, pale hair. Drawn dark circles around his eyes. ¡°Are you quite well? Are you here by your will?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the ghosts,¡± muttered the man. ¡°Please, just cooperate. It won¡¯t save you, but it will make things go better.¡±

    Sometimes Apis¡¯s mouth just went rogue. In this case, he was being polite by default. ¡°Of course. Where would you like me?¡± Why are you cooperating? He¡¯s capturing you. Still, he obediently went along. This is how you end up in trouble. You just can¡¯t stop being nice.

    Apis stared at the dirt treading away under his feet. ¡°I feel like I should reiterate,¡± he said, as they continued along the side of the canal, ducking under tree branches, ¡°That I have nothing of value. Yes, I¡¯m carrying some supplies, but we¡¯re relatively low. Even our wood is mostly damp, and-¡±

    ¡°You haven¡¯t been captured for supplies.¡±

    ¡°May I ask again what-¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t want to know. Keep walking.¡±

    They walked the rest of the way in silence, although Apis kept trying to break the ice. Questions about the man¡¯s name, his employer, where he was from- all were met with an icy silence or more apologies. Finally, they turned the corner to where the massive statue of Teuthida stood.

    Her carved stone eyes looked down on Apis mercilessly. Apis turned away, avoiding her gaze. Yet another goddess that didn¡¯t want him. He swallowed.

    They had set up a fire underneath her tentacles. ¡°That isn¡¯t right,¡± he managed. ¡°You ought to camp outside of the statue. It¡¯s not as if it¡¯s going to rain in here, and-¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not my choice where we camp,¡± said the man. ¡°Step forward. Down.¡±

    He shoved Apis in. Inside the cavern of tentacles, there was less ventilation. Apis couldn¡¯t help but cough as he stumbled to a sitting position. As his eyes adjusted to the lighting, he could make out two additional figures, both also tied up and pushed against a tentacle.

    ¡°Oh,¡± said Camilla, wrinkling her nose. ¡°So you¡¯re back. I had hoped you might have died.¡±

    ¡°I remain alive,¡± said the man. ¡°Do you need to use the bathroom? Are you hungry? I might be able to-¡±

    She sniffed. ¡°Oh, so now you-¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± said Balbinus, next to her. ¡°Please. At least let us stretch our legs. It¡¯s not right, leaving us stuck here all day.¡±

    Apis was pulled further inside and lashed to a stone tentacle, watching as they were untied and taken outside of the cavern. Left inside, he was only left to stare at the crackling fire.

    So. Here you are again. How did this always happen? Elysia was the hero. She escaped- she triumphed, she saved the day.

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    What did Apis do? He got himself captured.

    Remembering his time in Kingshome, he stretched his legs while he had the chance. He didn¡¯t know the next time he¡¯d be allowed to move properly. Then he sighed, leaning back against the tentacle. Positive thinking.

    In the temple, it wasn¡¯t appropriate to think sad thoughts. In a situation like this, he was supposed to think of five good things that could grow from it.

    Apis tried to wiggle the ropes a little looser as he tried to think of a few. The fire is nice. My socks might dry out. Unlikely. His socks had been wet ever since he¡¯d swum up from that grate. Maybe they¡¯ll feed me, and I won¡¯t have to use those other rations. Also unlikely.

    He sighed. Andrena, goddess of everything that matters: a blessing would be appreciated. I cannot see what can grow from this situation.

    The fire crackled. The smoke thickened.

    As usual, nothing happened. He heard a clatter at the entrance and glanced over, hope rising, but felt his spirit fall again when it was only Camilla and Balbinus, led by their captor. He forced himself to smile anyway. ¡°Welcome back,¡± he offered. ¡°I kept the fire going for you.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to pretend to like this,¡± said Camilla. ¡°This is inhumane. They¡¯re planning something horrible for us. Probably going to eat us.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous,¡± said Balbinus. ¡°There¡¯s fish just out there. Why would they eat us?¡±

    ¡°I certainly don¡¯t know. But why else wouldn¡¯t they tell us their plans?¡±

    ¡°Maybe they want companionship,¡± offered Apis.

    ¡°Maybe they want something for target practice,¡± said Balbinus.

    ¡°Or maybe they want something to eat,¡± said Camilla, ending the exchange as she leaned back. ¡°It¡¯s the only thing that makes sense. We don¡¯t know what the North is like anymore. Obviously, they all went insane once the empire lost control.¡±

    They all turned to stare at their captor. He was poking at the fire. Under their collected stares, he looked up. After a brief glance, he looked back down at the coals. He said nothing.

    ¡°You see?¡± said Camilla. ¡°Cannibals. Who wouldn¡¯t deny being a cannibal?¡±

    ¡°He didn¡¯t deny wanting friends, either,¡± said Apis, but he didn¡¯t think anyone was listening. To be fair, he didn¡¯t believe himself either.

    This was what he got for trying to prove himself. He¡¯d gone with Elysia hoping to leach off a little bit of her spirit, the pure personality that she took into every interaction. It was infectious. No matter what she did, she was so determined.

    He had known as soon as he¡¯d watched her negotiate with the guards on the Infamy. She was like a hammer bearing down. Apis had never been that way. If he demanded things, people just¡­ ignored it. Apis was nice. He was friendly. He wasn¡¯t intimidating. Even when he tried, mostly people just smiled at him.

    You also hoped Andrena would speak to you. Be honest with yourself.

    Now he was stuck and alone. With damp socks and no contact from the Goddess.

    He sighed. Without holy intervention, he didn¡¯t have much of a chance.

    As he cleared his throat- what are you even going to say? Ask about his family again? The weather? Be honest with yourself- he was mercifully interrupted by someone else stepping into the light of the fire.

    The first thing he noticed was the gleam of the blade. Then, along the edge. His heart dropped. There was blood crusted over.

    Elysia. Duran.

    It was a stocky woman. She looked similar enough to the man that had captured Apis that they must be siblings. She stomped over to a seat across from Apis and began cleaning her axe. The silence stretched out for ages before the man finally spoke up.

    ¡°Did you get it?¡±

    He was using the Northern language, Apis noted. For once, he was happy he¡¯d bothered learning it. He leaned back against the tentacle and tried to act like he didn¡¯t understand.

    "Yes.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± The man coughed. ¡°Then everything is-¡±

    ¡°She remains free,¡± she said. ¡°She has one of the blades.¡± The rag swept over the edge of the axe. ¡°We lost five souls.¡±

    The man didn¡¯t respond for a long moment. ¡°Then we shouldn¡¯t-¡±

    ¡°Everything continues as planned. We have the last one we needed. It will be good to have extra hands for the-¡± she used a word Apis couldn¡¯t quite understand, at least in context. He¡¯d learned it as ¡¯trash¡¯, but that couldn¡¯t be right. ¡°Besides, no need to waste the bodies.¡±

    ¡°But if she has a blade, why would we risk it?¡±

    ¡°She will be easy to dispose of. Unless you¡¯re a coward?¡± She finished wiping the blade, then turned to stare at the three of them. ¡°We should do it now,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re still injured,¡± said the man. ¡°Maybe we should wait.¡±

    ¡°No point in waiting. I want to go.¡± She pointed the axe at Camilla. ¡°Start with the loud one. She annoys me. You go start the circle. I¡¯ll eat while I wait.¡±

    The man began to speak, but hesitated, looking first at the prisoners and then at the fire. Finally, he stood up and reached for a cloak, pulling it over his shoulders. Apis thought he saw a shimmer of green past the tentacles of Teuthida. A face looking out at him. Then he turned to look at the man again, and out of the corner of his eye it was gone.

 27. [Sidequest] No Vigor

    Apis watched the woman rip apart a fish, fat dripping into the fire. Time seemed to stretch out for an eternity. She seemed unharmed except for a tiny scratch on her shoulder. Surely that couldn¡¯t be her only injury?

    She had taken off her armor, to add insult to injury. It sat in a neat pile next to the fire. Apis was such a minor threat she didn¡¯t even bother holding her axe nearby.

    They were speaking about a blade. If that was about Elysia, that means she¡¯s alive. He tried to hold onto the hope. If Elysia was alive, then Andrena was still present- and Andrena wouldn¡¯t let anything go wrong. Although she might be willing to sacrifice me.

    She had already chosen not to keep him in her temple. Would it be much of a difference to let him die entirely?

    Apis swallowed. He couldn¡¯t rely on the goddess. This was all on him. He pulled at his ropes. He had a chance to escape, now that the focus wasn¡¯t on him¡­

    They remained tight. He was stuck. There was a crunch of boots on the ground. Their male captor was approaching, leaning down. His window of opportunity was closed.

    Apis allowed himself to be pulled up and taken out easily, even as Camilla kicked out and Balbinus tried to drag himself back. This is why you always get yourself into situations. No vigor. No fight. Yet they all ended up shoved onto the ground in front of the statue, regardless of how much they¡¯d fought. Apis was placed underneath a tentacle, away from the action. Balbinus was tied up next to him. In front of them, Camilla was still led even as she kept trying to kick their captor.

    The woman was stepping out from underneath the stone tentacles, cracking her neck. She seemed casual, almost excited.

    On the ground, a strange design had been drawn. Two circles, one inside the other. In between the two circles were a variety of intricate runes. Apis didn¡¯t know a lot of the words; they were archaic, not the modern version of the language. He thought he recognized one for imprisonment, or maybe fighting. The largest was wide enough Apis could have lain down and not stretched across it. He stared at the dull red glimmer.

    No. It couldn¡¯t be. It must just be dark red ink, some sort of new paint. Who has that much blood?

    He was seeing more of the green figures in the distance now. Some ghosts were peering out behind bushes. Others were hiding behind tentacles or hovering halfway out of the ground. All of them were giving the bloody circle a wide berth.

    Apis shuddered. He didn¡¯t think this was cannibalism, whatever it was. Andrena. I don¡¯t know what I did, but please. I¡¯ll work to earn your praise. Just save me. Do anything to help.

    He swallowed. Please.

    Next to him, he could feel Balbinus straining at the ropes. The two siblings in front of them weren¡¯t saying much. The woman was grabbing Camilla by the shoulder, her thick muscles straining as she shoved Camilla into the circle.

    Camilla fought, but she wasn¡¯t strong enough to resist. With a thump, she fell into the circle head-first, dirt coating her shoulders. As she struggled to stand up, the northern woman placed a foot on the outer circle and shouted something that Apis didn¡¯t recognize. Another archaic word in the northern language.

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    The entire circle lit up spectral green. Shining. It was like a beacon, going all the way up to the ceiling. He watched as Camilla struggled to stand up, but as she tried to roll out of the circle, it stopped her. As if the light itself formed a wall. Next to Apis, Balbinus had stopped moving, horrified.

    The other captor stayed well out of the way. He wasn¡¯t watching.

    What were they doing?

    The woman had pulled out a vial of something dark. More blood? She dribbled it on her finger, then poured it on the ground. Apis watched as a figure appeared. It had to be another ghost. It was spectral green, in armor, but it was much more solid than the others. He couldn¡¯t hear what they were saying at this remove. After a brief exchange, the woman dribbled more blood on the ground. The ghost bowed, then turned towards the center of the circle and stepped inside.

    Camilla screamed.

    Apis turned towards his bonds and began scrambling further to get loose. He thought he saw the shape of this now, and he didn¡¯t like it at all. He had heard of these creations- of pulling spirits from the land of the dead and forcing them into unwilling bodies- but he had never realized it was possible with living bodies.

    Or known it was possible at all. They were always stories to scare children with. Then again, this time last year, he hadn¡¯t believed in Paladins, either. Were all of the stories of his childhood coming back?

    He tugged at the ropes. He could feel burns and aches where they were digging into his skin.

    There was another scream. Then it cut off suddenly. Too suddenly. Apis turned, looking even as he felt his gut drop.

    In the center of the circle, Camilla¡¯s body stood. But it wasn¡¯t Camilla. The posture. The look in its eyes. Within her was a ghost. It moved uncertainly, rolling the bodies shoulders, stretching the arms. Then it nodded to the northern woman and gave a bow. When it was complete, she stepped back. The light of the circle went out.

    Camilla¡¯s body walked out. It stared over at Balbinus. Apis thought he could see a flicker of another emotion in there, but then it was gone in a sheen of green light.

    ¡°Next,¡± said the northern woman.

    Apis was left to watch as Balbinus was taken forward. He closed his eyes this time as he fought against his ropes. It was just as bad to listen to the screaming, but at least he didn¡¯t have to see the difference so starkly.

    The gods are meant to guard against this. Only godless souls were meant to be vulnerable to this. If you gave yourself to a god, they would keep you in their part of the afterlife- guard you from those who would use your soul for horrible purposes like this.

    How could this be happening? Were so many people completely godless? Even Elysia prayed sometimes, and she barely believed in anything.

    The thing inside of Balbinus¡¯s body came to bring Apis over. Apis looked away, not wanting to meet eyes that weren¡¯t real. As such, he didn¡¯t pay attention to the movement of the rope until it suddenly fell away.

    He looked down, then looked up in surprise. He couldn¡¯t even think of something to say. ¡°I-¡°

    It wasn¡¯t Balbinus inside of that body. The eyes were distinctly green; the way it held itself was nothing like the mild-mannered assistant Apis had grown to know. Yet¡­ it had freed him.

    It shoved him forward. ¡°Run,¡± it said.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Climb the statue,¡± it said. It was using Balbinus¡¯s vocal chords, but they were all wrong- in a different register. It made Apis¡¯s skin crawl. ¡°Escape. While you can.¡±

    Apis glanced over its shoulder. The northern woman was rummaging through her bag for more supplies. ¡°But- why?¡±

    This must all be a trap, but¡­ he couldn¡¯t figure out why it would trap him. Run, said his instincts. Ignore what it says. You¡¯re free. Go for the canal. He glanced up. Did he see movement above him? Had they really come to rescue him?

    ¡°You¡¯re one of us,¡± said the horror. ¡°Go.¡±

    Apis glanced up. He glanced over his shoulder. He had only a second to make a choice.

    As the northern woman turned back to look at him, shouting something he couldn¡¯t quite hear, Apis began to climb.

 28. Unexpected Reunions

    I was beginning to get worried about Apis, I had to admit. It had been at least half an hour and he hadn¡¯t showed up, a little damp but otherwise none the worse for wear, maybe with a few more pickles. Okay, Elysia. Stop being overly optimistic.

    I wiped my blade again. I stared at the water. I stood up, then sat down. There¡¯s no point. We shouldn¡¯t-

    ¡°Oh, thank the goddess!¡±

    I jumped, turning around and flinging my blade at the sound. Vita shrieked and toppled over, dropping her crutch. Duran woke up with a snort. Behind her, another man loomed out of the darkness. Not Herminius. I swung the blade over to him. ¡°Is he threatening you?¡±

    I realized, a little too late, that I probably still had blood all over my cloak. Oh well.

    The man lifted his hands up in surrender slowly. ¡°I¡¯m not here to threaten anyone,¡± he said. ¡°My name is councilman Domitus. I¡¯m here to beg for help. I believe someone may be in serious danger. There is a pair of people within these walls who I have been told wish very serious harm on whoever they may find, and I worry about who might run into them unawares.¡±

    He glanced at me. It was a very judgemental glance. ¡°I suspect you may know who I¡¯m speaking about,¡± he added.

    I lowered the sword. ¡°Blonde,¡± I tried. He nodded. ¡°Axe,¡± I suggested. Domitus nodded again. ¡°There was more than one of them?¡± A final nod.

    ¡°Two of them,¡± he said, ¡°Siblings. A sister and a brother, although I never learned their true purpose. I fled their companionship when I learned they wanted to kill me.¡±

    Curse it all to the gods. So it was the same people. And if there were two of them¡­ ¡°Duran, get up. We¡¯re rescuing Apis.¡±

    He was already standing. He flourished the paring knife. ¡°I¡¯m ready!¡±

    ¡°Put that down. You¡¯ll be on scouting duty at best.¡± I turned to the two of them. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure our companion has been captured by that pair. Do you know where they¡¯re camping?¡±

    For us to search this entire section of the temple, it would take most of the night- and they might move their space. If he knew, however¡­

    ¡°I was told where they planned on moving so I could avoid it,¡± said Domitus. ¡°The brother was worried about my safety.¡± He frowned, looking between us. ¡°But, ah, pardon my interference¡­ are you sure you¡¯re equipped for this? Your companion may already be, well. With the gods.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve already fended that woman off, sword to axe,¡± I said. He didn¡¯t need to know exactly how clumsy I had been. Technically there had been some succeeding involved. ¡°As long as we can get in and get out fast, I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    Maybe I could swim away again. She had let me get away before.

    The silence that followed my proclamation was notably long, followed by a groaning as Vita tried to pull herself up. I finally offered her a hand. ¡°If you have Tears, we¡¯ll be fine,¡± she said. ¡°No need to run away. We can just take the next step.¡±

    Domitus sighed. ¡°What did I say about keeping information quiet?¡±

    ¡°Tears?¡±

    Vita leaned on her crutch and fumbled in a pocket. When she removed her hand, it was to reveal a brilliant drop of diamond that matched the one I kept in my pocket.

    ¡°We have two,¡± she said. She grinned. ¡°It¡¯s beautiful, isn¡¯t it? They say that when Teuthida first came to surface, when she witnessed that the land had stolen her unmarked ocean, she cried four pure tears, one for each continent-¡±

    ¡°The other tale is, of course, that someone paid several hundred gold to carve pure diamonds into teardrop shapes,¡± said the man. He reached forward and closed her fingers over the diamond. ¡°I would rather you not fling that around. They aren¡¯t an easy commodity to find.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep it safe,¡± she said.

    ¡°What does any of this have to do with where Apis is?¡±

    ¡°They have him at the statue!¡± Duran, as usual, caught up fast. He had already pulled on his outer cloak and boots. ¡°I bet they¡¯re waiting for us to try and leave. That way they can steal the other tears.¡± His hand clenched. ¡°Those villains! Maybe they¡¯re keeping him as insurance!¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± I paused. ¡°¡­sure. They¡¯re keeping him.¡± Better to keep Duran in high spirits. I glanced over at Domitus. ¡°Is that correct? He¡¯s at the statue?¡± He nodded. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you just say so?¡±

    ¡°I was worried you might-¡±

    I was already walking towards the nearest lilypad crossing. ¡°Listen,¡± I said. ¡°We have one of those diamonds. They stole one of them from us. They also stole our companion, so I¡¯m not exactly feeling friendly right now. How many tears do you have? You need four?¡± The goddess had four hands, so it wasn¡¯t difficult math.

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°¡­two,¡± Domitus admitted.

    ¡°Right. So we¡¯ll go, you can hide if you¡¯re afraid, Duran and I will steal Apis and the remaining gem, and then we¡¯ll all go through to the next level. Yes?¡±

    ¡°But you don¡¯t even have a plan!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll figure one out on the way.¡± I pulled my skirt up to my knees and got ready for my next jump. The abyssal sword was cold against my hip, making my movements awkward. I hadn¡¯t strapped it against my back since it had nearly burned me. Andrena, it seemed, disapproved of my plan. He¡¯s your ward. You¡¯re not willing to help him, but you went rogue and grew plants in another Goddess¡¯s temple? What¡¯s that about?

    As usual, she only interfered when it served her own purposes. I stared across the water for a moment before I made the first jump, barely steadying before I jumped to the next lilypad. We had tried a few of the different lilypads, Duran testing the different types. It turned out it was fairly easy to tell the true lilypads apart from the ones that could support your weight. The real ones were paler in the center.

    I stopped on one, looking back to see who was following. Vita was swimming, slowly. Domitus was hopping. Duran was right behind me.

    ¡°Good to know we¡¯re all on the same page,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s keep it moving. I don¡¯t want to think about what they¡¯re doing right now.¡± Apis was probably trying to make small talk. If I was lucky, we¡¯d get there before someone stabbed him for it.

    <hr>

    ¡°I don¡¯t think we¡¯re on the same page,¡± hissed Domitus. We¡¯d huddled behind a tree and were trying to see through the smoke. All I could see was faint movement beyond. A blond man had come out and was drawing something on the dirt. ¡°You want to just rush in?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t say that,¡± I said. ¡°I said you should rush in and distract her, and I¡¯ll get Apis.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re trying to kill me! I¡¯ve seen the way that woman throws axes.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯ll send Vita. She probably wouldn¡¯t kill someone who¡¯s already injured.¡±

    We both turned to look at Vita. She was hiding behind a stone column, trying to catch her breath. Domitus turned back to look at me. ¡°She¡¯s too young,¡± he said. ¡°Besides, you wouldn¡¯t.¡±

    He was right. I wouldn¡¯t. I sighed. ¡°Fine. I suppose we¡¯ll have to do it the hard way.¡± I leaned a little further forward, trying to see if there was any movement beyond the smoke. The inside of the stone tentacles was so shadowed, with the smoke obscuring everything else, that I couldn¡¯t see a thing. ¡°Did they have prisoners when you met them?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s probably dead,¡± he said. ¡°Our best hope is to try and sneak away now. I really must-¡±

    I held up a hand. ¡°No.¡±

    I had only known Apis for half a year, but we¡¯d fought together. Mostly seagulls and half-coherant Voices- and a few horrible customers- but still. I wasn¡¯t going to let some strange northerner end his life.

    I pushed myself back against the trunk as the man went inside again, calling something out. Duran darted up to join us behind the trunk once he was out of eyeline. ¡°Well?¡± he whispered.

    I glanced up at the statue. ¡°You think you can climb it?¡±

    Someone had to put the tears in the hand of the goddess. Duran nodded. ¡°Right,¡± I said. ¡°Go. Now. Before anyone comes back out of there.¡±

    Once, I¡¯d thought Duran did everything slowly. That had been before I¡¯d given him proper motivation. As I squinted out in the darkness, he darted across and scrambled up the stone tentacle. Apparently he had learned from his previous failures. After only a few seconds of scrabbling, he was up and out of sight. I risked discovery and stepped into sight of the clearing to stare up at the statue.

    After a moment of holding my breath, I spotted a glint of blonde hair and a smile. He was waving at me. I shook my head. ¡°Hide!¡± I mouthed.

    He ducked out of sight. I went back behind the tree just in time; as I hid in the shadow, I heard footsteps and yelling. Camilla.

    ¡°You fools! You¡¯ll regret this!¡± Her shouting was vague, angry. I kept myself behind the tree, but risked a glance when the commotion turned to just vague yelling. The woman from before had Camilla by the shoulder, yanking her towards where the man had been drawing on the ground. She was tied up. Behind her, two others were following. A taller man I vaguely recognized, her companion. Then, his skin smudged with dirt and his eyes wide with shock- Apis.

    I felt my shoulders lower with a sigh I couldn¡¯t quite release. He was alive, then. No problem, Elysia. All you have to do is fight the crazy axe-lady again. That¡¯s going to go great.

    I shoved that voice very firmly into a box in my head and pulled myself back into the shadow, staring up at the leaves and hoping I was tucked firmly out of sight. The leaves flickered. Behind me, the lights flickered green.

    Above me, a face peered out in between the leaves. He waved at me.

    The same ghost from before. What was he doing here? I looked over my shoulder, then back up at him. Domitus was staring into the clearing, tucked into the same shadow I was. It was like he hadn¡¯t noticed the ghost at all.

    The ghost jumped down from the branches, light as any feather. He bowed to me like it was a casual country party. I gave him another rude gesture, this one implying his mother was highly edible. He blew me a kiss in return and then grinned at me.

    His teeth were sharpened. I shuddered. His chestplate was the same as I had noticed before; the rearing bear. Why is that so familiar to me? Where have I seen that before?

    Behind me, Camilla began to scream. I leaned over, looking past Domitus¡¯s shoulder. It was like he¡¯d decided to completely ignore our plan of staying hidden.

    As soon as I could see the clearing, I realized why. A rippling sheet of green light, almost flame-like, had encased Camilla. She was scrambling away from where the pale woman stood, but her shoulders thumped against the light. As if the light itself was holding her back from the rest of the clearing.

    Advancing upon her, merciless, was a ghost. I couldn¡¯t make out the features. Only that it leaned down, put a hand on her shoulder. The light flared even brighter, Camilla screaming louder- then the sound cut off. When I opened my eyes, she was standing. She rolled her shoulders, once, twice. Then she pulled her hands apart and the rope snapped.

    I swallowed. That wasn¡¯t Camilla. Not anymore.

    I grabbed Domitus by the shoulder- he was stiff, frozen in fear- and pulled him back. ¡°We have to get Apis,¡± I hissed at him.

    He didn¡¯t say anything. He was staring, barely blinking. Well, he was a failure. ¡°Give me your tear,¡± I said. I held a hand out. He frowned, like he had just woken up, and fumbled in his pockets.

    The diamond was cool in my hand. I clenched it tightly and stared over at the rest of the clearing.

    The split second where it all went white. That was the best distraction. I glanced over the woman again. She wasn¡¯t wearing her chestplate anymore- and that was where she¡¯d stored the tear. Could I really be so lucky? Did she just leave it inside her camp?

    Then again, she had ghost-warriors possessing people working for her. Did she need to be careful about her possessions?

    I put a hand on the sword and looked up at the big woman again. Well, Elysia. Here¡¯s your chance. Do something heroic for once.

 29. Expected Reunions

    As they dragged the other man- Balbinus, I thought his name was- into the circle, I readied my hands on the blade. I steadied my breathing. I had one chance. It wasn¡¯t like I was going to wait for Apis.

    I tried not to pay too much attention to the screaming. It sent chills down my spine. When I had been told scary stories of ghost possession as a child, it had always been about corpses filled by ghosts- not about living people.

    I couldn¡¯t help but wonder about Camilla¡¯s soul. Was it still trapped in there? Just watching her body be run by a ghost?

    I shuddered, thinking of how Andrena¡¯s power had run through my fingers. No. Absolutely not.

    Maybe I was imagining it, but I thought the sword cooled a little further under my hands. Another scream in the clearing beyond. I stared at the space underneath the tentacles, trying to memorize my path. It was hard to see the space through the ghosts.

    Cut your way through. Steal the tear. Steal Apis.

    I didn¡¯t really have a plan after that. I took a deep breath. Maybe I could-

    The world went white. I ran. A few seconds after I started running, I remembered why I didn¡¯t run anymore. My lungs burned. I was already heaving hard. I was built for cooking good food, not athletics.

    I pushed through, gripping the sword tightly. Don¡¯t let them take you, Elysia. You didn¡¯t make it this far to get beaten by ghosts!

    When I finally blinked to see the world starting to coalesce into a green haze instead of a brilliant, blinding white, I was close enough to the stone tentacles to touch them. I¡¯d just barely passed behind the axe woman. I glanced over my shoulder, an uncontrolled gesture.

    She was still staring into her shimmering green circle. Her teeth reflected the bright lights in a strange grin.

    Must be something in the water. Just not right, the way she acts.

    I ducked underneath the statue of Teuthida and kept a tight grip on the sword, closing my eyes for a brief few seconds to try and adjust to the darkness before opening them again. In the dimness, I saw everything in shades of green that filtered in from the flickers of magic outside. I could still make out some vague shapes; embers glowing in a fire that must have been extinguished recently. A few pieces of rope still draped around a stone tentacle. A pile of furs (who brought furs all this way? Only a group of northerners).

    There. In the corner. I stepped forward, rummaging through as I heard more shouting. Underneath the top plate was nothing. Underneath the gauntlets? I threw more armor pieces to the side, feeling my heart race. I had to find the Tear before Apis-

    Someone spoke from behind me. I ignored them, grabbing another piece of armor. As I threw the gauntlet aside, it rattled.

    I stopped. The other gauntlet hadn¡¯t rattled like that.

    ¡°If you¡¯re in there, please, come out. She¡¯ll be less cruel that way,¡± said a man¡¯s voice. I didn¡¯t recognize it, although I recognized the sound of footsteps getting closer. I fumbled with the gauntlet, shaking it like a jar with one olive left.

    There. It fell into my hand like a blessing. A single, perfect Tear of Andrena. My Tear, you thief!

    I tucked it into my pocket, then reached for my sword. It was against my waist. I risked a glance over my shoulder. It was the brother of the axe woman, stepping inside. ¡°Please,¡± he said. ¡°I don¡¯t want to do this.¡±

    ¡°Then don¡¯t,¡± I said, unsheathing the sword and turning around in what I wanted to be one motion. In practice, I unbalanced myself a little. If I survive this, I¡¯m doing so much practice with this sword.

    ¡°Oh,¡± he said. He was half-tranluscent in the darkness of the tent. His eyes were the most reflective part, though, glimmering off of the dying embers of the fire. ¡°You¡¯re-¡±

    Before he could finish, I swiped out with the blade. I didn¡¯t trust my aim. Instead, I went for the fire, swiping embers out and up towards him. Most of them clattered to the ground uselessly, but I saw him stumble back, hand up towards his eyes and crying out in pain. Before he could do anything else, I shoved him to the side and stormed out, Abyssal Blade pointed outwards.

    The axe woman was nowhere to be found at first. I glanced around wildly. If she¡¯d already taken Apis-

    ¡°They went up!¡±

    Vita! I turned, nearly unbalancing myself with the sword again from moving too quickly. She was waving at me, popping out from behind a column. ¡°He escaped! I don¡¯t know how!¡± She pointed up. ¡°You have to climb!¡±

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°But the other-¡±

    She was already throwing it to me. I dropped the sword in panic, reaching forward to grab it. For a split second, it was as if the diamond was suspended in air, a perfect droplet. Then it thudded into my hand, and I grabbed it tightly. ¡°Get through!¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ll find another way. Teuthida always blesses her loyal followers.¡±

    Well, I didn¡¯t know if I believed that, but I wasn¡¯t going to wait around and question it. I fumbled for the sword and shoved it back in the sheath, turning for the nearest tentacle. It was time to climb.

    Two armslengths up, and I started to slide back down. My arms were aching. Across from me, I could see the ghost possessing Camilla making good progress. I couldn¡¯t see the one in Balbinius at all, and the axe woman was long gone. I pushed myself up and grabbed tighter onto the stone.

    My arms began to ache. As I started to come around Teuthida¡¯s ¡®knees¡¯, where it began to flatten out, I began to see where people were positioned. Duran was straddling a shoulder, knife out and stabbing the air aimlessly. No one was coming even close. Apis was clinging to Teuthida¡¯s torso and trying to edge away from the axe woman, who was stepping along the splayed ¡°knees¡± of the tentacles as if they weren¡¯t steeply sloped and made of slippery stone.

    Balbinus was perched on one of Teuthida¡¯s elbows, chin perched in hand, looking for all the world like he was bored. Camilla was sitting on top of Teuthida¡¯s head and holding a large serrated knife. I shuddered. She hadn¡¯t carried that when I¡¯d met her.

    I scrabbled up, trying to grab a hold and make it up the final slope. My hands were starting to ache. I was beginning to weaken. I started to slip down.

    Above me, Apis finally edged around to my side of the statue and stopped running away long enough to reach down. ¡°I thought you were already up here!¡±

    I grabbed his hand tightly, scrabbling up the stone. ¡°No,¡± I muttered. ¡°You want the sword?¡±

    He stared at me. I took that as a no. ¡°You¡¯re doing the tears, then.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Two jobs, sword or tears.¡± I unfastened the little pocket I¡¯d been keeping the tears in and thumped it into his hand. He pressed himself further against the torso. ¡°You don¡¯t have a ghost in you, do you?¡± His eyes weren¡¯t the same glazed green as Balbinus and Camilla. He shook his head, then looked down at the pouch. His hand closed over it.

    In front of me, the axe woman hopped from one tentacle to the next, swiping at me with a knife. She must have left her dagger underneath us. I kicked at her, but nearly unbalanced myself and had to cling to the statue. It was a long way down.

    ¡°One gem for every hand,¡± I said. ¡°Good luck. I¡¯ll distract her.¡±

    When I next looked back for Apis, he was gone around the side of the statue. Which was good, because the axe woman was trying to stab me in the throat. I grabbed her tunic and pulled in, mostly because I didn¡¯t want to accidentally throw myself over the side with too much enthusiastic shoving.

    It ended up with both of us staring at each other, a little too up close and personal. I didn¡¯t even have my sword out. Her knife was pressed against my ribs. As she began to move it, I shoved her back.

    She stumbled, but didn¡¯t fall. What was she, half cat?

    As she lifted her knife, twirling it (now that was just insulting, as if I was a bad enough opponent that she could waste time knife twirling) I pulled out my sword and just started swinging it.

    For a moment, I saw her eyes widen in surprise. Then she actually had to duck.

    As it turned out, a big sword was pretty good in a fight with a small knife. All I had to do was keep it moving. As she came forward, I kept it going. Constant, unpredictable motion. I never hit her, but she was so busy dodging that I was able to keep her busy.

    To my left, there was a thunk. Teuthida¡¯s hand lowered. One down.

    When she tried to leave her tentacle, I stopped her then, too. The reach was large enough that she couldn¡¯t get out of my space. Another thunk. Two tentacles down. I risked a glance over. Only two left- one with Balbinus on it, one unguarded.

    Then she stepped forward, and I realized the problem with a large weapon.

    When the axe woman¡¯s hand reached up and grabbed my wrist, I had no way to do anything about it. She leaned in, said something in the Northern language that was probably very intimidating, and then pulled out her knife. She pressed it at my ribs.

    I tipped the sword over and hit her over the head with the flat of the blade. She furrowed her brow and said something further in the Northern dialect. The blade pressed further into my cloak.

    ¡°Listen, I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re saying,¡± I said. ¡°Yes, you¡¯ll stab me. That¡¯s not new. You just tried to kill me. I¡¯m going to keep fighting.¡±

    I thumped her over the head with the flat of the blade. Her nose was definitely scrunched now. There was another thunk above us. We both turned to check which one it was. The unguarded tentacle.

    I was the one to react first. I yanked my hand out of her slightly softened grip and used the pommel to hit her in the neck. There was sort of a shocked choking noise, then she half-stepped back as she pulled the dagger up to stab me.

    It was probably a perfect technique- the movement looked smooth to me, at least. Unfortunately for her, we were standing on uneven ground. I watched her eyes widen as she brought the dagger up. She stiffened for a moment, then twisted midair to try and grab a tentacle- very catlike, I thought again- before falling to the ground.

    I didn¡¯t stick around to watch her. I had other problems. I held tight to the torso of the statue as I inched around to aim my sword at Balbinus. Well, his body, at least.

    ¡°We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,¡± I said. My blade didn¡¯t quite reach towards him, but it was suitably intimidating.

    When he didn¡¯t respond, I paused. ¡°You speak our language?¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m waiting to hear about the hard way.¡±

    ¡°I can stab you.¡±

    ¡°Go on, then.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    He was slouched back, lazy. He yawned as he looked at me. ¡°You think I like that woman? Use that sword, if you please. Just not anywhere important if you like this body.¡±

    When I didn¡¯t move, he held out a hand. I frowned. After a hesitant moment, I slipped the blade across his fingers. Gently- just enough to bleed.

    The blood ran spectral green, then red. After the first few blinks, Balbinus¡¯s eyes looked back at me. His real eyes. ¡°Elysia?¡±

    I held out a hand. I could see Apis making his slow way down the arm, trying to put the final tear in place. ¡°Get down from there. I¡¯ll explain later.¡±

 30. [Sidequest] Roast Rabbit

    The statue of Teuthida smiled down upon Katla. Or perhaps she frowned. This was why Katla hated temples. They always carved these statues to be dreadfully vague, impossible to interpret.

    She hated the way the stone eyes bored into the back of her neck as she squatted down and arranged the corpse of the rabbit. Her belly rumbled, but she ignored it. She had a different mission today.

    A ghostly hand reached towards the rabbit and tried to scratch it between the ears. Nothing happened. Katla swatted it away anyway.

    ¡°Stop interfering,¡± she snapped.

    The man stared at her, mournful. Why did they always have to look so sad? It was hardly a trial, being brought back from the fields of the dead. What did he have to do in the afterlife that was so important, anyway. Plant turnips for the bear god?

    Katla actually had a job to do. He should be thankful he could help.

    ¡°Stop whining,¡± she said, even though he hadn¡¯t said anything. He couldn¡¯t, of course. In his spectral form, he couldn¡¯t impact the world at all. He could only see and move.

    Not that it stopped him. He used his ghostly hands to imply she had loose morals, or, potentially, that she had a very large member.

    ¡°In the north, that means nothing,¡± she told him. She reached into her coat and extracted a single vial. She paused for a moment to stare at her remaining supplies. Four vials of blood. A lancet. Twelve empty vials. A case and a bowl. Three corpses; two rats and a rabbit. The rabbit was starting to stink- she¡¯d had it a little too long.

    She swallowed. She needed this to help her quest, even if she was running low.

    Katla pulled out a single vial and allowed her coat to swing closed. She popped open the cap, then poured a little of the blood out onto her finger. The ghost leaned in. She could see the hunger in his eyes, mixed with the fear.

    Katla waved him off, watching his spectral body disperse and then reform in the wake of her hand, before she began to draw. An outer circle to trap the spirit. An inner circle, to specify the mortal body. Then, a great deal of writing. Equations for time, for space, for how the spirit would be bound to Katla¡¯s will only. Every time she completed another rune, she watched the spirit lose opacity, leeching out of the room.

    The rabbit¡¯s leg kicked, then stilled. She dabbed more blood onto her finger.

    Four more runes. Banishment to the stars in case of punishment. The feeling of pain. All of the mortal impacts. Another kick of the rabbit¡¯s legs. She saw it blink.

    Katla leaned back on her heels and re-read her runes one more time. This was the crucial moment. Her last chance to fix any of her mistakes before the final act.

    They were perfect. She let herself smile, just once. She might be bad at mazes and middling at combat.

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    But she was a fantastic necromancer.

    Katla leaned forward and drew a single bloody line across the top, connecting the inner and outer circle. The spirit and the mortal body, becoming one.

    The rabbit blinked one, blinked twice. Then with a start that was a little too jerky to be true life, it brought itself to a stand.

    It opened its mouth as it cracked its neck. Katla heard every bone in its spine pop. ¡°What?¡± it said. ¡°I already told you you can take yourself to the fields of the dead, for all I care.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t about what you want,¡± said Katla. ¡°My team. Have you seen them?¡±

    Four days. She had fed the ghost with blood for four days, after the initial summoning. Such strength should have been enough for it to see the entire temple and some.

    The rabbit¡¯s mouth stayed closed. ¡°You must do my bidding,¡± said Katla. She leaned forward. The rabbit¡¯s eyes weren¡¯t a pure dark, anymore. They were a shimmering green with no pupil. It glowed in the half-darkness of the maze. ¡°Otherwise, you will be banished among the stars, left in our wake for all eternity. Your soul will never be reborn, even if you act in service to your god as you promised.¡±

    ¡°Does it even matter? You have my god in chains.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m no theologist,¡± said Katla.

    The rabbit scratched behind its ears with a hind leg. She watched it. Finally, ears flicking back, it said, ¡°Fine. I saw them in the- in the-¡±

    ¡°You also cannot lie,¡± she said, and felt unbearably smug about it. "Well? Shall I have your corpse for dinner?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re horrible,¡± said the rabbit. ¡°You know, in my service I had to do a lot of awful jobs, but at least they usually asked me first. They didn¡¯t just summon me from my nice afterlife-¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes,¡± said Katla. ¡°Have you seen the others? What do they do?¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± said the rabbit, ¡°I have seen ghosts. Dozens of them. They do an angry woman¡¯s bidding. She stalks around, and she yells.¡±

    S¨®lveig. ¡°Is she doing anything? Has she fought anyone?¡±

    ¡°Last night, she had two people in a circle like this one. I would be worried, though. Seemed like she was running out of blood. If it were me, and I got free of something like that¡­ well, you¡¯d need to dodge my axe.¡±

    Katla froze. ¡°Wait, what?¡±

    The rabbit hopped forward. It had seen her weakness. ¡°Was my explanation confusing? Two people, in a circle. Alive at the time, in case you were wondering. I didn¡¯t know you lot did that.¡±

    ¡°She wouldn¡¯t,¡± said Katla. ¡°Was there a blonde woman there? Tall?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a blonde woman,¡± said the rabbit. ¡°She¡¯s in the center of the temple. In chains,¡± it added, smug. ¡°I do hope you weren¡¯t depending on her.¡±

    Katla stood up and paced. If S¨®lveig had started to- no, she wouldn¡¯t. Even S¨®lveig knew they had to keep their mission secret until they had captured the Voice. But if she had lost contact with their leadership¡­

    She was out of control! No one else would think to participate in such madness!

    ¡°If I were you,¡± continued the rabbit, ¡°I would leave. It seems like that woman¡¯s one step away from getting brought before the Beetle for heresy.¡±

    ¡°Shut up!¡±

    The rabbit scratched behind its ears again. Katla inhaled, then exhaled. ¡°Where were they?¡±

    ¡°Oh, am I allowed to speak again, Oh Mistress of Death?¡±

    ¡°Obviously!¡±

    ¡°The circle with all the water. I thought I saw some lilypads.¡±

    Katla kicked the statue. ¡°Not part of the plan, then?¡± said the rabbit. ¡°You know, I would tell you to pray about it, but I assume that¡¯s not what you people do.¡± It sniffed. ¡°There is one person in the maze who¡¯s making progress. But I seem to recall¡­ what did you tell him, again? That you were too good for his help? Ah, but my spying eyes seem to have seen that he got help from the Priestesses, and here you are, still behind-¡±

    Katla shrieked in rage and turned. Before she could think better of it, she swiped the blood away. There was a flash of bright green as the ghost reared up. For a moment, she saw him as he had been in life. A paladin, reaching for his axe. Cheeks flushed, ready to fight for his god. Then he was gone, and all that remained was the corpse of a rabbit.

    ¡°Damn that S¨®lveig,¡± muttered Katla. She picked up the rabbit. She might as well cook it for dinner.

 31. One Temples Trash

    Everything moved too fast to track after I released the spirit from Balbinus¡¯s body. He stared at me, confused, as I offered a hand to him and helped him off of the hand. Behind me, Apis scrambled forward, throwing the tear the last little distance. I stopped for a moment to stare as it nestled into the statue¡¯s hand, weighing it down just enough for the entire arm to rotate downwards.

    I saw Apis turn and stare first. I followed his gaze, staring myself as I realized where the entrance to the next section was. The door that opened wasn¡¯t where the axe-woman had been camping, underneath the tentacles.

    The statue¡¯s mouth was opening. In between her teeth was a tunnel just large enough for a Duran-sized teenager to crawl easily or a middle-aged woman to crawl uneasily.

    For a moment, my hands loosened on the sword. I looked up to the top of Teuthida¡¯s head, where the body of Camilla still crouched, a knife held in her hands and a nasty smile on her face. ¡°You have got to be kidding me.¡±

    Balbinus was still holding onto my elbow, stance unsteady. ¡°I-¡°

    ¡°Right,¡± I said. ¡°Why would it be easy? Why would it be a nice door? No. Of course I have to be eaten by the goddess. Of course!¡±

    The more time I spent inside of this temple, the more I liked Andrena. Yes, she was overbearing, liked bees too much, and kept trying to take over my body. But she hadn¡¯t yet tried to eat me.

    Apis had gotten good at moving along the statue. As I watched, he scrambled along the arm and up towards the mouth. Camilla moved forward, lifting the knife in threat.

    Well. I couldn¡¯t let him get stabbed now, after we¡¯d almost won. ¡°Duran!¡± I said. I couldn¡¯t see where he was. I really hoped he hadn¡¯t fallen. Sure enough, at my shout, his head popped out from behind the statue. ¡°We¡¯re leaving. Get close to me.¡±

    Balbinus in tow, I clustered as close as I could to Apis. It was an uncomfortable, awkward climb up unto Teuthida¡¯s mouth. I clambered up onto one of her shoulders and held the sword up. Camilla must have seen what happened when I sliced the other ghost with it- the thing possessing her body stayed well away from the point of the sword.

    I was very thankful for it. I had a big sword, but no technique. The more fear, the better. ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± I said, waving it vaguely. ¡°There¡¯s more where that came from.¡±

    As I threatened Camilla, the others were crawling through the tunnel. Duran disappeared first, then Balbinus. Finally Apis hesitated, looking down the statue. Vita was out of sight and Domitus was probably still hiding behind that tree. It was the smart thing to do, at least. ¡°Move,¡± I said.

    ¡°But-¡±

    I sighed. ¡°Vita¡¯s probably going to get double-blessed for being self-sacrificing. Are you going to ruin her efforts?¡±

    Apis clearly didn¡¯t believe that, but he was also practical at heart. He gave one last look over his shoulder before ducking down and crawling through Teuthida¡¯s throat. That left me staring down Camilla¡¯s body, knife and all.

    ¡°Well,¡± I said. ¡°This has been fun. I¡¯m going to leave.¡±

    She didn¡¯t say anything. I backed into the open mouth of Teuthida, as slowly as I could manage. ¡°You¡¯re going to follow me, I suppose,¡± I said, into the echoing stone passage. I didn¡¯t like backing into it- I felt double clumsy that way- but I wanted to keep my sword out as long as I could.

    She still didn¡¯t reply. I stopped talking quickly enough. Crawling was hard enough. Crawling backwards should have earned me a medal of some sort. My knees would be complaining for years.

    And we don¡¯t have any of the supplies. I stopped midway through, cursing myself. This was why I didn¡¯t go on adventures! ¡°Those were my nice spices,¡± I told the sword.

    It didn¡¯t respond. Behind me, I heard Apis¡¯s voice echoing. ¡°Elysia?¡±

    ¡°Coming!¡±

    The rest of the way was even more miserable, a winding passage that seemed to spiral downwards endlessly. I couldn¡¯t help but catalogue all of the supplies gone. Had the axe-woman stolen them?

    I needed to train with the sword. That way, next time I saw her, I would get my pepper back. No mercy.

    When I finally stumbled out of the passage, three pairs of hands all reached out to steady me. I batted them away. ¡°Is there a way to close this thing?¡±

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    I had emerged into what looked like a storage closet, although the outer walls and inner walls were curved, making it obviously part of a ring. It was a tiny room full of broken down, stacked, and dusty furniture. There was a light coming from gas lamps, but overall it was dim, cluttered, and sneeze inducing. I waved some away from my nose and tried to let my eyes adjust.

    It was Apis that pointed to something behind my left elbow. I turned too quickly, nearly overbalancing myself. As soon as I saw a big lever sticking out from the wall, I grabbed it and pulled downwards without considering what it would do.

    We heard nothing. I hesitated, then pulled it down even further. Just in case it hadn¡¯t seated properly.

    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s just well oiled,¡± offered Duran. He had clustered close to the tunnel exit, although he didn¡¯t have much choice. The amount of standing room here was small enough that we could all have touched elbows. Why did they have so much broken furniture in this temple? Why had they put it all here?

    This part of the temple contrasted severely with the other sections. The others had been austere, cold. This was warm and clearly unplanned. Almost chaotic. I got the sense they hadn¡¯t quite finished this section. Maybe they had run out of funding?

    ¡°Someone could go up and check if it¡¯s closed properly,¡± I said.

    No one volunteered. Suddenly every piece of ceiling tile was incredibly interesting, from where they were looking. Being a paladin was a terrible responsibility, I decided. I sighed. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll go check.¡±

    ¡°Will you?¡± said Apis. ¡°We¡¯ll check the rest of the rooms and meet back here.¡±

    I scanned their faces, then folded my arms. ¡°Absolutely not. You¡¯re going to stay right here. Anyone that puts a foot out of line is going to endure my severe disappointment.¡±

    ¡°But-¡°

    ¡°I¡¯ve already lost you once today,¡± I said. ¡°If I have to fight someone else, I¡¯ll lose it.¡±

    The second time climbing up the tunnel was twice as miserable. Still, it was worth it when, lungs burning and knees aching, I put a hand up and slammed my knuckles against solid stone. Twice, then three times. I couldn¡¯t even hear anything on the other side.

    ¡°Nothing,¡± I declared, when I was finally free and coughing up the rest of the dust. ¡°We¡¯re done. They¡¯re stuck on the other side.¡± I specifically didn¡¯t think of the way we¡¯d gotten across to the previous section. There couldn¡¯t be that many shortcuts. If we kept this closed¡­ ¡°Still,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s move.¡±

    We had to keep close as we moved around the giant piles of furniture piled up in the center of the room. I spotted what looked like a cradle on top of a rocking chair with squids for armrests, all on top of what looked like a massive dining table out of mahogony.

    I gave one piece an experimental poke. The entire pile wobbled, and we all jumped back. Right. Lesson learned. ¡°Let¡¯s just choose a door,¡± I said.

    The room had three doors, one for each wall that didn¡¯t have a tunnel. The one directly across from the tunnel was locked, with an ostentatious squid-shaped lock. The other doors (the ones in flat walls, not curved ones) opened easily.

    Both of them opened into small rooms that were also full of piles of junk, with an inner door that was locked, although there was no tunnel entrance in either.

    ¡°You have to be kidding me,¡± I said. ¡°Armor?¡±

    It was all dented and rusted. I left the door open and stepped into the room to the right, picking up a piece of plate mail. It had been made for a man easily twice my size and with the dimensions of a brick wall. As I moved it in the light, the squid looked like it was winking at me.

    ¡°It could be a good soup pot,¡± offered Duran.

    I nearly rejected it- who wanted old sweat in their soup?- until I realized how low I had been brought. ¡°It¡¯s better than nothing,¡± I admitted.

    Across from us, the pile shifted. For a second, it clattered like it was going to fall. We all held our breath. Then Apis popped out from behind the pile with a big smile on his face, eyes sparkling. He clicked his fingers and thumbs together like a crab.

    ¡°I found gauntlets!¡±

    ¡°Any chance of a shield to go with them?¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°They¡¯re pretty good,¡± he offered. ¡°Don¡¯t know why they were stuck in here.¡±

    I glanced over my shoulder. ¡°Balbinus?¡±

    Our fourth, unplanned, member was dragging behind. He was still standing in the doorway, staring out into space with a depressed look on his face.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t me,¡± he said. ¡°None of that. I didn¡¯t-¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯re sorting through trash. Care to find anything?¡±

    He shook his head vehemently. ¡°It¡¯s a test. Of your self-denial. You must not-¡±

    Duran¡¯s voice echoed as he popped up, helmet on. ¡°This one¡¯s got horns on!¡±

    Sure enough, it was one of the old northern style, helmets and all. ¡°Maybe not,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s not your size.¡±

    It was twice the size of his head, wobbling as he moved. Still, he seemed reluctant to let go of it. ¡°What if I need it?¡±

    Balbinus had taken another step backwards, eyes wide. I rolled my eyes. ¡°You don¡¯t have to take anything. But we aren¡¯t here for Teuthida anyway. What does it matter?¡±

    At this point, I wanted whatever protection I could manage. Unfortunately, it didn¡¯t seem like most armor was made for a heavyset and short middle-aged woman. Even as I sorted through the garbage pile, nothing popped out.

    Eventually, I gave up and put the ¡°soup-pot¡± plate under my arm so we could move to the next room. ¡°Maybe the next one will have weapons,¡± I said. I was getting tired of the Abyssal Blade being our best weapon. Or a key. That had to be the test this time- to find the key first and get into the final test.

    If I was lucky, Durandus would be in this section and I wouldn¡¯t have to bother with the last part. This whole temple business was getting old.

    I cleared my throat. In the absence of direction, they had all gone back to searching through the pile. Except for Balbinus, of course, who was still looking anxiously at me. ¡°Everyone, onwards!¡±

    Duran kept the helmet on as he pulled the next door open. Sure enough, there was another pile of junk. It had more furniture. As we stepped in, however, I squinted. There looked like there was smoke here.

    ¡°Everyone, slow down,¡± I said. ¡°There might be a-¡±

    ¡°Fire? I certainly hope not.¡±

    An old woman¡¯s voice. Leaving everyone else in the doorway, I stepped forward until I could see where it was coming from. The woman had receded into the chair, more of a pile of bones than a person. Yet she had managed to hold onto her pipe, and when she looked down at me, her smile was real.

    ¡°Well, well, well. I haven¡¯t seen that sword in many years.¡±

 32. The High Ground

    I looked over my shoulder. Sure enough, everyone else was staying back. I was left to approach the old woman, pipe and all. It¡¯s fine. You¡¯ve got a sword.

    ¡°What about it?¡± I kept a guarded hand on the pommel. I wasn¡¯t the biggest fan of the Abyssal Blade- it wasn¡¯t any good as a cooking knife, it was heavy, and it was cursed- but it had just fended off some ghosts that wanted to kill me, so I felt I owed it at least a mild defense.

    She leaned forward and into the light. Her face was a little familiar to me, although I couldn¡¯t trace it. Her hands were liver-spotted as she tapped out the pipe, and her accent was distinctly eastern. She¡¯d travelled a long way for this temple. ¡°Used to be mine,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯ve gotten it wet. Shame on you!¡±

    I looked down instinctively (I had wiped it off, hadn¡¯t I?) which was when the pipe hit me in the center of my forehead. She threw hard for an old woman!

    For a second I only saw sparks. It wasn¡¯t that large, but that pipe was solid. The center of my forehead throbbed as I stumbled back, hissing in pain and putting a hand up to the injury as I glared up at her. ¡°What was that for?¡±

    ¡°No reflexes,¡± she said. ¡°Too trusting, not even wearing armor, haven¡¯t trained in a good few years if you¡¯ve trained at all. Show me your callouses!¡±

    I took it back. I didn¡¯t want to train at all. I rubbed at the forming bruise on my forehead. ¡°What about my callouses?¡±

    ¡°Need to know how soft you are,¡± she said. ¡°Obviously! If I¡¯m depending on you, I¡¯m going to have to start somewhere.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve gotten the wrong idea. I¡¯m not a-¡±

    What was her deal? I had never asked her to train me, if that was her goal.

    I thought I recognized where she was familiar from now, though. Now that she mentioned recognizing the blade, I remembered the conversation in the shack above the waterfall. The memory of the stew made my stomach grumble.

    The woman had mentioned her aunt inside the temple. How she had once been a paladin. I had just assumed that anyone of that advanced age would never survive that long inside- everyone else had been here for weeks, but she had been here since the summer if she¡¯d donated the blade on her way up. Wrong again, Elysia.

    ¡°You were a paladin the day you picked up the blade,¡± she said. She beckoned me forward. ¡°Now show me your hands!¡±

    I glanced over my shoulder again. Duran was noticably staring at the molding of the doorframe, Apis was staring at his feet, and Balbinus was twiddling his thumbs. Useless! I was being attacked in plain sight, and not a single one of them was rescuing me.

    I sighed. ¡°It¡¯s more of a consulting thing,¡± I said. ¡°And it¡¯s not my fault there aren¡¯t a lot of big swords around for hire.¡± At that, I thought I felt the blade heat up a little. Had I managed to bring Andrena into the conversation again?

    As I stepped forward and offered my hands to the woman, though, it cooled. It must have been my imagination. It felt like it took her years to stare at my fingers, humming and rotating them, tisking.

    ¡°Well,¡± she said. ¡°I suppose it could be worse, but not much.¡±

    I tugged my hand out of hers and glared. It was hard to maintain rage, though, when she looked like she was one good stiff wind away from death. She hadn¡¯t even bothered to retrieve her pipe, but she was still wheezing after every sentence. ¡°I did fine the last time I fought.¡±

    A complete lie, of course, but she didn¡¯t need to know that.

    ¡°Who were you fighting, a newborn?¡± She leaned back and tapped a finger on her jaw. ¡°You use your hands daily,¡± she said. ¡°From the rest of your build, and the apron, I¡¯d guess you¡¯re a cook. You have all the wrong habits, and you¡¯re old enough that you¡¯re set in your ways. You¡¯re probably stubborn, cantakerous, and worst of all, you¡¯re out of shape. But you¡¯re the one the God chose, ah?¡±

    ¡°Goddess,¡± I managed, after pulling my pride back into shape. She wasn¡¯t wrong. I just didn¡¯t usually think of myself in such terms.

    She squinted. ¡°You don¡¯t seem all that truthful to me.¡±

    ¡°The other one,¡± I managed. ¡°Andrena.¡±

    At that, I had finally shut her up. She leaned forward, finally looking over my shoulder at the group behind me. ¡°All of them? They¡¯re dedicated to Andrena too?¡±

    I heard a shifting. Eventually, Duran said, ¡°I¡¯m thinking about it?¡±

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ¡°I grew up in her temple,¡± offered Apis.

    ¡°After this, I¡¯m never praying again,¡± said Balbinus. ¡°But I like Teuthida more. I¡¯m not one much for pickles.¡±

    ¡°Looks like the fields of the dead finally froze over,¡± said the old woman. ¡°Gods below and beyond! Andrena? Really?¡±

    ¡°You can ask her yourself,¡± I said. ¡°I wasn¡¯t the one that-¡±

    She waved me off. ¡°Oh, I know. You can¡¯t stop it when you¡¯re chosen. I remember it like it was yesterday¡­¡±

    ¡°Um,¡± said Duran, who had clearly decided that he was part of the conversation now. ¡°Who are you, exactly? And why are you here?¡±

    ¡°Ah, sorry. I never introduced myself, did I? I¡¯m Aemilia. My god¡¯s gone. Ruined my years of dedication and holy destruction,¡± she said. ¡°Thought I would fix my afterlife by giving up and pretending to like squid. Just my luck Teuthida¡¯s gone and gotten herself captured too!¡±

    She pointed at me. I stepped back in self-defense, just in case she had anything else to throw. ¡°Good thing you¡¯re here. I knew it was all part of the pantheon¡¯s plan when I gave up that sword after drinking all night at that horrible inn!¡±

    I was losing track of the theological thread. ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t like Andrena.¡±

    ¡°Any port in a storm,¡± she said. ¡°Necromantical problems require Paladinological solutions. I thought my goose was cooked when I saw that woman steal the Voice- I had to pretend I was dead, and it gave me a cramp in my lower back like nothing else- but now that you¡¯ve got the blade back in action, I don¡¯t give a rat¡¯s ass if you¡¯re pledged to the god of small fish. Just use it well and we might actually get out of here.¡±

    ¡°The Voice was here?¡± That was another unpleasant surprise. I remembered my conversation with my ex-husband¡¯s secretary.

    He had been convinced she was up to no good. What had I done to deserve this? I had fixed her. I had put her on a committee, a punishment fit for any criminal, and I¡¯d even made her answer questions for the public. She should be trapped in the Capital for the next twenty years listening to complaints. The Pantheon knew the Capital generated problems endlessly.

    So how had she gotten all the way north in time to poke around in her main temple?

    ¡°Oh, yes,¡± Aemilia said. ¡°She¡¯s captured now. No thanks to you! You should be defending her!¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s a murderer! I-¡± I stopped. Why was I arguing with this woman? ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± I said. ¡°She was fighting those ghost things?¡±

    ¡°Sure enough,¡± said Aemilia. ¡°Lost, too. Your generation, so soft. Back in my day¡­.¡±

    Bold words from a generation who had lost a war so badly the entire empire had collapsed. I sighed. ¡°Well, this has been nice.¡± I leaned down and lifted up her pipe, offering it to her. ¡°Thank you for the warning. I¡¯ll keep an eye out for those¡­ ghost¡­ things. Have you seen a man about this tall-¡± I gestured- ¡°With messy hair, that smells of alchohol and-¡±

    ¡°The innkeeper? He was the woman that stole the Voice.¡± She leaned forward. ¡°Glowing green eyes. I haven¡¯t seen the like in many years.¡±

    I stopped moving. Just like that, a puzzle piece clicked into place. Of course. Durandus I was a sniveling coward. He hated new ideas, temples, leaving his comfortable inn, not drinking for more than two hours, and prayer in general. He never would have dedicated himself to this.

    How long had it been? How had no one else noticed?

    ¡°Right,¡± I managed. ¡°Do you know how to get into-¡±

    ¡°Not so fast,¡± Aemelia said. ¡°You¡¯ve got my blade. I¡¯m not going to let you leave without being able to use it.¡±

    ¡°Sorry?¡±

    ¡°Oh, you will be.¡±

    For an old woman, she moved fast. I jumped back- I had learned my lesson from the pipe- as she jumped out of her seat and scrambled to the top of the pile of trash. The furniture creaked as she scrambled up, standing on the top.

    ¡°First, we¡¯ll work on reflexes,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯ve got a semi-functional shield there. Deflect with it.¡± I glanced down. ¡°It¡¯s a piece of plate,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s not even my size.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t be picky, girl! This is war!¡±

    Before I could argue- for one thing, I hadn¡¯t been a girl in about twenty years- she was throwing a chair down at me and I had to jump out of the way. It crashed against the opposite wall and fell apart in a clatter.

    I stared up at her. She laughed.

    I looked back at the door, but all of the cowards with me had run entirely away. I was alone. Great. I tried to run, too, but another piece of furniture- a couch- skidded down the pile as she shoved it off and fell perfectly in front of it, blocking my path.

    I was beginning to see why her niece had been so confident in her survival. Clearly, something was keeping her alive and strong beyond the normal. ¡°We should stop this before someone gets hurt,¡± I said.

    I straightened up and grabbed one of the leather straps on the edge of the plate mail- meant to hold it on, I thought, although I¡¯d never worn the stuff- and held it up like a clumsy shield. It swung uncomfortably.

    ¡°Getting hurt is the point!¡± she said, and threw a wooden vase down. I ducked behind the plate armor.

    With a clang, the vase bounced off. I peered out, just to duck back behind again. Another chair was coming down. I couldn¡¯t move as quickly behind the shield, so I only made it halfway as the chair bounced down. It hit the side of the armor, pushing me over.

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to be faster than that!¡± she shouted.

    I was still struggling to get up when the next piece of furniture started falling- it looked like a side table. I rolled and pulled the plate over my head. With a crash, it broke over me.

    ¡°That¡¯s more like it!¡±

    I shoved myself up, fuelled only by rage. ¡°You can¡¯t just throw furniture at people!¡± A sculpture of Cabellus came flying at me. I ducked, letting it hit the doorframe. ¡°It¡¯s not polite,¡± I added.

    When another sculpture- this one of Teuthida- came towards me and I barely dodged it, letting it rattle off of the plate, I decided I¡¯d had enough. I leaned down and picked it up, lobbing it towards Aemelia. It went wide (the statue was a weird shape and I wasn¡¯t a great shot) but her hand thrust out and grabbed the statue by the tentacle.

    Instead of throwing it back, she slid down the pile, surprisingly coordinated. I stepped back as she stood up in front of me, stooped and smaller than I¡¯d anticipated. She held up the statue, poking it towards me. ¡°Take it!¡±

    I reached out and lifted it out of her hands. ¡°Well, it¡¯s a start,¡± she said. ¡°I can see why she chose you. You¡¯re mean as a hornet when someone angers you. We¡¯ll work on the blade tomorrow.¡±

    Statue still in my hands, I walked over and took a seat on the couch where it had slid to block the door. Beyond, I could see Apis ducking for cover, although Duran and Balbinus had both hidden better. ¡°I suppose it¡¯s not optional.¡±

    ¡°Cheer up,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ll share some of my shared fish and stored food with you if you¡¯ll cook, ah?¡±

 33. Shoddy Workmanship

    Duran stirred the stew. I stared into the broth. Like a sign, a fish head popped up. We made brief and unfortunate eye contact before it got shoved down underneath again.

    Aemelia was off in the corner napping, her snoring echoing off of the walls. Apis was climbing up the stack of furniture, tapping on each ceiling tile with a walking stick he¡¯d extracted from the pile. He thought he had seen light coming through one and was determined to check each one to see if it was loose.

    Combined with the bubbling of the pot, it made for a horrible soundscape. I almost missed the trickling of the canal.

    I sat up and tried to crack my back. Balbinus was in the corner, clutching his knees and staring at the stone. ¡°Cheer up,¡± I told him. ¡°This is the last section, right?¡±

    Aemilia had been decidedly unhelpful after telling us that the Voice of Teuthida was captured- she seemed to think that was the only necessary information, really- but it seemed they had gone to the center of the temple. Given that Durandus the first was apparently possessed and one of her lackeys, it seemed I would have to confront her yet again if only to solve the problem that had brought me here in the first place.

    Based on my last confrontation with her, I assumed she was behind the problem again. I tried to remember what that secretary had said.

    I probably should have listened to him instead of instantly dismissing him. Now that I tried to remember it, it was all a vague muddle. He had been worried about her, that was for sure. She had wanted to do something new, that was true. Something impressive.

    That meant nothing, though. That could refer to a big hat with a feather in.

    ¡°Apis,¡± I said. ¡°What do you know about necromancers?¡±

    He tapped on another ceiling tile. ¡°I heard that they can bring back souls from the land of the dead,¡± he said. ¡°Everyone says it drains your life force, though. And that woman, uh¡­well, I¡¯m not sure she¡¯s entirely normal, as far as necromancers go.¡±

    She had seemed very lively to me. ¡°Maybe she isn¡¯t a necromancer,¡± I said. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s something else. A new god, with new powers. To make, uh¡­¡±

    ¡°That was definitely a spirit of the dead in my mind,¡± said Balbinus. He hadn¡¯t moved from where he was in the corner. ¡°He remembered the war. Everything. He was in the fields of the dead before, too. I saw little glimpses of it.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Necromancers fought in the last war,¡± I hazarded. I was fairly sure about that. ¡°Right? Maybe she was one of the, uh, battle necromancy people. That¡¯s how she stays strong? Practice?¡± She seemed way too young to have been in the war, though.

    Apis tapped at another tile. It sounded solid. As I watched, he moved the chair he was balancing on top of and restacked four pieces of furniture so he could reach the ceiling in another place. ¡°Everyone says the real reason we lost the war was supply chain failure.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but now that I¡¯ve seen evil necromancers, I¡¯m beginning to believe the story,¡± I said. I had always thought the official excuse for losing the north was a fairy story for children, just like Apis. A way to cover up bureaucratic failure like most of the nonsense in the Capital.

    Now that I¡¯d seen that axe-woman surrounded by green ghosts trying to eat me, I had a little more sympathy for the troops. I would have lost too. ¡°I mean, what if it was real? If paladins are the only thing that can fight against the ghosts, maybe they were outnumbered.¡± Or they just made the smart choice and ran away.

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    ¡°That doesn¡¯t explain why they didn¡¯t come south when all of the paladins failed," he said. ¡°Or why the paladins failed in the first place. Think about it,¡± Apis continued. ¡°If you¡¯re an evil necromancer and you can bring back souls from the fields of the dead, and you don¡¯t even need to pay the price like we all thought- if you can just infinitely generate them- why not just conquer everything? Who wouldn¡¯t want to just take over the whole empire?¡±

    ¡°There has to be a cost. We just aren¡¯t seeing it.¡±

    Before he responded to me, Apis poked at another tile with the cane. It pushed upwards.

    We all stopped to stare. Even Apis himself froze in surprise before he pushed himself upwards. With another few movements, the tile pushed up and slid sideways, revealing nothing but open sky.

    We could get out. The temple had an exit. Had this been planned, or was it just there because of shoddy workmanship? Above him, there was a beam of light. It was pale. Outside, it was nighttime. But I thought I could see the moon.

    He stopped and looked down at me. ¡°Well?¡±

    It would be so easy to leave. I wouldn¡¯t even have to fight off Aemilia¡¯s expectations- she was snoring in the corner, unaware.

    I stared up at the moon for a second. ¡°You should leave,¡± I told Apis. ¡°You almost died, or at least got possessed, back there.¡±

    ¡°What about you?¡±

    It would be stupid to stay. I knew I was bad with a blade, no matter how much last minute training I got with a woman twice my age. And yet¡­.

    Aemilia seemed to think that without a paladin, the necromancers were sure to get what they wanted. For a second, she¡¯d even seemed hopeful about my chances of survival.

    Elysia, don¡¯t fall for it. She just wants someone to throw on the front lines. As much as I tried to talk myself out of it, I could feel myself weakening. It wasn¡¯t about the Voice. For all I cared, she could get crunched up by ghosts and I wouldn¡¯t shed a tear. She had started this and she could end it.

    It wasn¡¯t even about Durandus I, although I would feel a little bad if he got hurt and he was possessed during the important moment. It would probably be the first time in his life that something went wrong and it wasn¡¯t his fault.

    No. This was personal now. That woman had tried to kill me. She¡¯d set ghosts on me and Duran. She¡¯d tried to put some creature in Apis¡¯s body. It made my blood run hot just thinking about leaving and letting her get away with it.

    I stared up at the moon for a moment more. It would be the smart thing to leave. I could get over it. In life, you didn¡¯t always get revenge. In fact, it was better not to. It was the more mature, intelligent thing to do- you moved on. You were the better person.

    ¡°I¡¯m staying,¡± I said. ¡°But Apis, Duran, Balbinus- you don¡¯t have to.¡±

    I didn¡¯t care how much I had to train. I was going to come back and show that axe-woman exactly what she¡¯d started.

    Apis cleared his throat. ¡°It¡¯s supposed to be bad luck to leave a temple before proving yourself fully,¡± he said. ¡°Also, we don¡¯t have any rope, and I don¡¯t want to jump off of the roof. My knees have enough problems as it is.¡±

    Ah, yes. We still had no supplies. I made a mental note that the next time I tried to go into a Temple of Teuthida, I was taking enough food and supplies for three months. Twice now I¡¯d ended up with nothing. Twice!

    We both looked at Duran. ¡°I¡¯m not going to leave!¡± he said. He folded his arms. ¡°Even if jumping off of a roof sounds fun. We¡¯re going to save the whole temple. And the world, probably.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s just keep ourselves alive for now.¡± I turned to Balbinus. ¡°Well?¡±

    He sighed. ¡°I can¡¯t just leave her in here!¡±

    ¡°¡­Camilla?¡±

    ¡°You saw it! One of those things was in her head too. It was probably telling her to pray, too.¡±

    I was losing the thread a little bit, but I was able to figure out the main part of his thoughts. ¡°So you don¡¯t want to leave,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯re sure? It¡¯s been very bad in here so far. And, if you¡¯ll allow me to say it, your employer probably isn¡¯t going to pay you.¡± I thought again of both councilmen we¡¯d met. One coward and one fool. ¡°Actually, you might get fired.¡±

    He just shook his head. Well. There was that opportunity, wasted. Before I could ask Apis to check behind the tile again- maybe I wanted to leave after all- he¡¯d pulled back and let it fall closed with a thunk.

    With the light of the moon gone, it was suddenly cold and very dark in the room. I had to blink to force my eyes to adjust.

    Beyond, Aemilia stopped snoring. The tile falling must have woken her up. She pushed herself up with a creaking of the cushions. ¡°Is that stew I smell? Are you done yet?¡±

 34. Fish Guts

    I woke up to pipe smoke in my face and a throbbing headache. I coughed the first away, but I seemed to be stuck with the second even as I swilled some stale water and tried to rub some of the ache away. The bruise was hot under my hand. What had Aemilia put in that pipe? Lead?

    ¡°Good. You¡¯re finally awake.¡±

    I squinted through the smoke. Duran was still snoring. Apis was darning a sock (how had he saved a needle! And yarn!) and Balbinus was sprawled out asleep in the corner. ¡°I¡¯m the second one awake,¡± I said. ¡°And you have a weapon. You could have just¡­.¡±

    Aemilia exhaled another passel of smoke into my face. At some point in my distraction, she¡¯d gotten close enough to touch. ¡°It matters not,¡± she said. ¡°Everyone has a flaw. Yes, you are weak and unprepared. But the goddess chose you, so I suppose we must work on the blade.¡±

    ¡°Wait, the blade?¡± Instead of following her, I glanced down, just to make sure she hadn¡¯t stolen it in the night. Sure enough, the Abyssal blade was still on my hip, poking awkwardly into my belly as I sat up on the ground. It was gleaming. It was golden.

    It was awkward and cursed, too, but who was counting?

    ¡°You¡¯re going to go straight to the blade? No testing me to make sure I¡¯m right? No more throwing furniture at me?¡±

    I couldn¡¯t see her figure through the smoke anymore. This couldn¡¯t be safe- in fact, I was sure it wasn¡¯t. I coughed, then stumbled over to try and open a door. She smacked my hand off of the handle.

    ¡°First, we test your attentiveness.¡± She flourished something wooden. Was that a chair leg?

    ¡°I¡­ the Blade is very sharp,¡± I said. ¡°You probably shouldn¡¯t¡­¡± I had to dart back as she tried to hit me with the chair leg. Right. She had been very good with her aim. I should assume she was good at this, too.

    By the time I managed to get the Abyssal Blade out of the sheath and begin fighting, my arms were sore from light blows of the wood. She wasn¡¯t hitting to injure anything but my pride, which made it worse.

    ¡°I¡¯m a grown woman,¡± I said, fending off one blow but going too high and catching it with my knuckles. ¡°I can manage a few blows!¡±

    ¡°Maybe later.¡± She tapped me on the top of the head. ¡°For now, try to hit me. Just once will do.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a dangerous blade!¡± I swung and went wide. She dodged easily. It didn¡¯t help that the Abyssal Blade was much slower than her chair leg- she was swinging in half the time, if not less.

    She got me in the ankle and I ducked under her next swing as she executed a complicated manuever. I didn¡¯t hear her feet moving, but I did hear what sounded like bones in her back cracking.

    ¡°That cannot be good for you,¡± I pleaded, giving the blade another wide swing to try and intercept her. She ducked under it and tapped me on the elbow.

    ¡°On the contrary! Keeps me limber.¡±

    Another swing just barely grazed her robes, leaving them swinging, as she hopped over the blade and pointed the chair leg in between my eyes. I tried to elbow her, but she dodged away from that too. It was really starting to get on my nerves, actually.

    How hard could it be to hit one woman?

    Two parries and a last-ditch attempt with the pommel later, and I decided the answer was very hard.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you have any advice?¡± I said, panting, as she came up and hit me on the shoulder again. I had fought her back, towards the opposite corner and away from any furniture she could hide behind, and yet she was still dodging. As we spoke, she hopped over Apis¡¯s bent head like he was nothing more than another chair. He didn¡¯t even look up, just adding another stitch in the heel of his sock.

    ¡°Move faster!¡± she said. ¡°The blade is like a reed. You should also be like a reed.¡±

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Well, you should be. Right now you¡¯re more like a dying flower,¡± she said.

    I dodged her next swing, then turned to hit her- only to see her toppling over. Apis had extended his leg. Not much. Just enough to trip her.

    I reached forward and poked her with the edge of the blade. ¡°Well?¡±

    Aemelia pushed herself up. It was like all of her age had collapsed on her at as soon as she¡¯d stopped moving. But her pipe was still between her teeth. An ember glowed as she raised her brows at me.

    ¡°Well,¡± she said. ¡°I did say you only had to hit me. Never mentioned cheating. Help me up, girl. We¡¯ll work on some finer techniques after I have some tea.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t until she was out of sight that I was willing to risk glancing over at Apis. His head was back down, faking innocence, but I could see a smirk.

    <hr>

    I held the fish out. As I rotated it, it flopped, scales wet in my hand. For a moment I was irrationally taken back to when the lawyers had first come to speak to Duran. The fish had been a little bigger then, though.

    ¡°What did you want me to do with it?¡±

    I ran a hand underneath the gills. It didn¡¯t smell too bad. ¡°Could make some grilled fish, if we could find something to grill it on,¡± I said. I cast an eye around. Where had that plate mail gone? If we could get a fire hot enough-

    Aemelia smacked the back of my knuckles. I yelped instinctively and pulled back. We were standing behind the tower of furniture. Beyond, Apis and Duran had gone on a walk to ¡®check that the latch was still closed¡¯. I had no idea where Balbinus was, but he¡¯d managed to disappear as soon as he would have been helpful.

    Once again, I was abandoned completely.

    ¡°What was that for?¡± I said. I gave her a glare and pulled my hand a little farther out of range.

    ¡°That fish isn¡¯t for eating,¡± Aemelia said.

    I glanced down at it. ¡°It doesn¡¯t look like it has worms. Right number of eyes. Won¡¯t feed everyone, sure, but if I filleted it-¡±

    ¡°Useless woman! Is your head just full of recipes!¡±

    Well, she didn¡¯t have to put it that way.

    ¡°You can¡¯t just give me a fish and expect me not to cook it!¡±

    She reached forward again and I darted away, expecting her to try and grab the fish. As I rotated it away, however, she reached to the other side of my body. With a flourish, she drew the abyssal blade from the sheath. In a matter of a few flashes of the blade, I watched as one fin fell away, then another- then, with a neat trick, the belly of the fish flicked open and the guts spilled on the stone at my feet.

    I stared at her, still holding the fish away. ¡°This is¡­ some sort of exercise?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got another fish ready,¡± she said. ¡°Put that down and come here. It¡¯s about time you learned a little style.¡±

    ¡°Where was all this fish when we were making stew last night?¡±

    It was the only thing I could manage. She¡¯d pulled open the door of a wardrobe stacked catywampus on the pile, and within were just¡­ fish. Piled scale upon scale, dead eyes reproaching me for intruding. I was almost tempted to close the door again so they would stop staring at me.

    ¡°We could bread them,¡± I said. ¡°Fry them. Grill them. A better stew, this time, more fish than broth¡­¡± Last night had been a dismal showing. Even Duran was usually better than that.

    Aemelia tossed the sword back at me. I was so busy being annoyed I managed to catch it, mostly out of self defense.

    ¡°I¡¯ll hold up the fish,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯ll gut it. I presume you know how?¡±

    She didn¡¯t even give me time to acknowledge before she began holding up fish after fish. The first few were large and stinking, easy to target. The next few got smaller and smaller, harder to target with the large, heavy blade. It was beginning to make my arms ache, too. The blade felt like an extension of my arm I wasn¡¯t used to- it was too long, heavy, and the point never went where I wanted it to. I tried to picture the axe-woman¡¯s face when I finally crushed her in battle. It was losing some of its savor. Maybe I could poison her.

    When I finally started to get the technique, Aemilia started dodging.

    ¡°Hey!¡±

    ¡°Fish in the wild swim,¡± she said, swishing the fish to the left as I tried to gut it. ¡°Go on, then.¡±

    By the time we¡¯d gotten through three or four fish, my arms were aching. I had carried heavy pans, sharpened a lot of knives- but my muscles were working in a new dimension, and they hated me for it with a passion. I forced myself to take deep breaths. Surely we were nearly done.

    Aemelia was rummaging around in the bottom of the wardrobe, humming to herself. The pipe was, inexplicably, still lit.

    When she turned around, I lost my patience. ¡°You have to be kidding.¡±

    It was a fish barely as long as my smallest finger. It dangled, silvery and half-hidden in her smoke.

    ¡°There¡¯s no way,¡± I continued. She was just grinning at me. ¡°You need a small knife for that kind of fish, this blade would smash it.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s very sharp,¡± said Aemelia.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care how sharp it is!¡± I waved the sword. ¡°This is giant!¡±

    ¡°Your goddess has chosen you for a-¡±

    I reached forward with the blade and sliced the fish in half. ¡°The goddess and I barely get along,¡± I said. ¡°And if I ever need to be able to have this amount of fine technique, I expect her to pick up the slack, because I¡¯m certainly not going to be able to manage.¡±

    ¡°Well!¡± She looked down at one half of the fish, then the other in her hand. ¡°Well!¡±

    I shoved the blade back into the sheath. My shoulder was starting to ache, too. ¡°I¡¯m checking on the others,¡± I said.

    I would apologize later. For now, I needed to get away from the stink of those rotting fish.

 35. [Sidequest] New Technology

    It took three more drops of her dwindling supply of blood to force the ghost into taking her to where Herminius was hiding. Then it was left to Katla to swallow her pride and finish the hardest part of the job.

    Asking for help.

    She hovered in the archway of one of the seemingly endless storage rooms for what felt like years, watching him hunch over a pathetic fire and try to bring the embers back to life. The ghost had said he was getting help from someone. Who? How was he making progress?

    Katla glanced over her shoulder, at the maze beyond. She thought she spotted a statue of Teuthida winking at her.

    Surely you can solve this yourself, she bargained. It¡¯s not too late. You don¡¯t have to-

    ¡°Ah!¡± Herminius reared back onto his heels, nearly unbalancing himself. The ember went out. ¡°Young Katla! What a pleasant surprise!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t mock me with lies.¡± Wait, she was meant to be nice. ¡°Your fire might have caught, if you hadn¡¯t been so distracted.¡±

    There was a horrible cracking sound as Herminius straightened his knees and stood. He was smiling. Maybe he was¡­ injured. He held out a hand. ¡°I wondered where you had gotten off to! Any luck on finding the rest of your team?¡±

    Katla¡¯s first impulse was to lie and say she had already been successful. She didn¡¯t like his little smug smiles, and the way he tried to siphon everyone else¡¯s resources. Besides, he was worse in combat than she was. But¡­ ghosts couldn¡¯t lie when she had them trapped in a body, not under the spells she used. So he had to have some advantage. She couldn¡¯t live out the rest of her life trapped in this cursed maze! ¡°No. No luck.¡±

    ¡°Pity. Chin up, though. As I once told the people of my great district, a leak is not a sign that our plumbing has failed, it¡¯s simply a sign of great sailing to come.¡± Katla stared at him for a moment. As it usually did, that worked to shut him up. Herminius swallowed, throat bobbing, and gestured at the wispy embers. ¡°You don¡¯t happen to have any food, do you? I was scrapping up a meal of sorts.¡±

    Katla had sworn before rejoining Herminius that she wouldn¡¯t fall for his dastardly southern tricks again. She wouldn¡¯t hunt for him again. She wouldn¡¯t start fires for him again. She certainly wouldn¡¯t stand guard for him again. After all, last time she¡¯d only done it so he would provide a map, and that had turned out to be a complete failure. His words were slicker than polished marble and three times as useless.

    Somehow, she still ended up roasting her rabbit as he watched, rubbing his hands over the flames. ¡°You have the most wonderful timing,¡± he informed her. ¡°Every time I think I¡¯m out of food, you somehow appear!¡±

    Katla didn¡¯t usually pray, but she made an exception to curse the gods. Not one in particular. Just whichever one was nearby. Yes, she was a necromancer. Yes, she laughed in the face of natural law and ethics alike. Still, did that mean she had earned a punishment like this?

    She turned the roast rabbit and tried not to scowl. ¡°You have a way to get out of the maze?¡±

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    ¡°Who¡¯s this?¡±

    A new voice. Katla turned slowly, to pretend she wasn¡¯t threatened. It was low, gravelly, a middle aged woman or a younger one that smoked often. Coming from her left- what had once been a bare stone wall, the other side of the small storage room.

    ¡°A friend of mine,¡± said Herminius. ¡°Katla, say hello, I know you can be polite! I can watch the rabbit.¡±

    Katla finished her turn and took a few seconds to scan over the new person first. Holy robes. That was what she noticed first. Gray, dyed to match the stones here or perhaps just naturally woven that way- they looked like the color of the wool from sheep here. It made Katla¡¯s shoulders itch in sympathy.

    The person wearing the robes was a tall, statuesque woman holding a bizarre device underneath her arm. It was a round ball of brass, with a single window in the center. Like a knight¡¯s helmet, if a knight wasn¡¯t concerned at all about glass shattering in his eyes.

    ¡°Hello.¡± Katla said. It had probably been too long.

    The woman stared down at her for a moment longer. ¡°This was not part of our bargain.¡±

    ¡°Ah, but she¡¯s much better than I am,¡± said Herminius. ¡°I¡¯m more of an ideas man. I speak to the people, you know, an elected official. Katla, she doesn¡¯t do words at all, uh, rather scary actually, but she is excellent at action.¡±

    Katla reached over and turned the rabbit before he let it burn again.

    ¡°What¡¯s the helmet for?¡±

    The woman gave her another suspicious glance- at least someone was taking her seriously- before lifting Herminius up by the collar, opening up a door in the wall, and yanking him through. Katla could only watch as it closed behind them, leaving an unmarked solid wall of stone. She couldn¡¯t even see the seam.

    The rabbit would be fine for the next few minutes. Katla left it behind as she scurried to the wall, pressing her ear to the stone and trying to find narrow points. She could hear murmurs of dripping, what sounded like squeaking (did they have rats?) before she could finally hear snatches of conversation.

    ¡°¡­.don¡¯t trust¡­.¡±

    ¡°Believe me!¡±

    But then it was all gone, as if they¡¯d walked away. Katla glared at the stone underneath her hands, then stepped back to go back to the rabbit. If they were going to speak without her, then she¡¯d earned a rabbit to herself.

    By the time the door opened again, she¡¯d made it through three quarters of the rabbit and was removing part of the hindquarters. Herminius¡¯s face dropped in horror.

    ¡°Ah- but-¡±

    Katla just held up the remainder of the meat and sighed. Would she ever be truly free of leeches?

    Behind him, the woman looked genuinely unhappy. She was staring at Katla like there was a puzzle remaining to be solved. ¡°He says you¡¯re here to find your friends,¡± she said.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°What kind of friends?¡±

    ¡°The friendly ones.¡±

    Katla blinked. She had a feeling who this woman was, although she was surprised she¡¯d shown her face. It was a good sign, she thought. An indication that they had made an impact.

    ¡°I am a priestess of Teuthida,¡± said the woman. Yes! Katla had been right. Although she matched her joy with a drop in her gut. Priestesses tended to take exception to her magic. ¡°There are some¡­. Issues within the temple. I need someone to help me repair them. It¡¯s a¡­. Two person job.¡± She glared at Herminius. ¡°Your companion has rejected this task. If you will accept it, I am willing to take both of you to the center of the temple, to confront who you are.¡±

    Katla¡¯s hope was growing greater. Maybe not everything had failed, after all. ¡°Why can¡¯t you priestesses just do it?¡±

    ¡°Our head priestess is¡­ otherwise occupied,¡± said the woman. ¡°Are you going to help, or not?¡±

    She was still holding that bizarre helmet. Katla pointed. ¡°What is that?¡±

    ¡°This is our water-breathing apparatus,¡± said the woman. She held it up. It shined, malevolent, in the candelight. ¡°It has a matching suit. The only one in the world! Our engineer was said to have been divinely inspired.¡±

    ¡°You put it on underwater? The metal will drown you!¡±

    ¡°We have a new technology, fool,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s filled with air. You¡¯re able to breathe while doing alterations. Obviously!¡± She sniffed. ¡°I should have known. There is no one capable of helping.¡±

    It looked like a one-way ticket to the abyss. But¡­

    ¡°I¡¯ll do it,¡± she said. ¡°If you promise you¡¯ll get me through.¡±

 36. Word of a Ghost

    ¡°You¡¯re done training?¡± Apis was thumping the hatch we had closed yesterday and listening for the echo, presumably in case anyone was on the other side. He seemed satisfied. I couldn¡¯t see Duran, which was making me nervous. It never went well when he was out of my sight for too long.

    ¡°Let¡¯s not talk about any training,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m, uh, on break.¡±

    I was beginning to feel a little guilty, which was an unusual emotion for me. Running away was what I did- I had run away from my mother, from the capital, from Durandus¡¯s father.I hadn¡¯t run away from Andrena because she was a goddess, but I was working on that one. Frankly, me even being here was a shocking betrayal of my character. ¡°Did you need to check anything else?¡±

    He gave me a suspicious look, then pushed himself up. ¡°That bruise looks bad. Did you want todo something about it? I¡¯m sure we could find, uh¡­.¡±We both glanced around the room. There were stacks of furniture. Not much else. ¡°Well, maybe we could find bandages somewhere. There might be some spare leather in the armor room?¡±

    ¡°No need. I feel great. Let¡¯s just do a check.¡± I gestured. ¡°In case someone got out.¡±

    That used up a good few minutes, checking underneath furniture and inside wardrobes. I found an ancient whisk (cobwebbed, but no spider) and what looked like a child¡¯s doll, sans head.

    No axes, with or without women attached. I closed another set of doors and checked over my shoulder for Aemilia. I had begun to think of her as a sort of evil spirit, capable of appearing without notice.

    Thankfully, she was still in the other room. All I saw was Apis, restacking chairs so they were more stable.

    ¡°Where did Duran go?¡± I said, finally. It had been too long. I had to ask.

    ¡°Ah,¡± he said. ¡°Uh, I don¡¯t know. He said he was going to check for evil, and then went¡­¡± he pointed to the other door, away from Aemilia¡¯s room. ¡°He said he would be right back.¡±

    I turned and considered our options. ¡°What do you think the chances are that he¡¯s fine?¡±

    ¡°Well, he¡¯s fifteen now. And it¡¯s a temple.¡± I gave Apis the look that deserved. He sighed and put down the chair. ¡°I don¡¯t think he took any weapons, if that helps.¡±

    It didn¡¯t. Duran was capable of finding his own weapons. ¡°I¡¯ll lead,¡± I said. ¡°I have the blade.¡±

    For the first four rooms, we moved in relative silence. Each room was like a slice of a ring, near-square and with a pile of nonsense in the center. A single door inwards, towards the circle in the middle of the temple. One door towards where we had come from, and one door forwards.

    Nothing of interest. Of course, there was infinite garbage to sort through, but that didn¡¯t make it notable.

    ¡°No,¡± I told Apis, on one of those occasions. ¡°I still don¡¯t need armor.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re fighting now, though.¡± He held up the mail and shook it. It clanged. ¡°What if that woman comes back?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got a cursed sword. I¡¯ll just¡­. Stab her.¡±

    I turned away, feeling a little too self-conscious. After a moment, I turned back and took the chainmail. Just in case. It actually fit very well.

    I hadn¡¯t done well enough on my ¡°training¡± to feel confident about another fight, but I still didn¡¯t want that axe-woman to get away with just attacking me like that. I would have to think of a way to get her back.

    The blade heated up under my hand, and I snatched my palm away. Andrena, I already told you, no. Or had it just been my imagination?

    ¡°You¡¯re sure he told you he was going this way,¡± I snapped.

    Apis didn¡¯t even bother responding to that, which was probably fair. We had both known Duran too long to underestimate him. Chances were he was fighting a giant squid by now.

    Ironically enough, as soon as I heard a rhythmic clanging I calmed down. It had to be Duran. We stopped outside of the nearest door and pulled it open a tiny creak. A thump, a ring, another clang.

    Yes. Definitely Duran, by the swearwords used. They were extremely regional.

    ¡°Duran,¡± I shouted. ¡°I¡¯m giving you two minutes to stop being dangerous, and then we¡¯re coming in to check on you.¡±

    There was another loud thump. Then the door creaked open the rest of the way, revealing Duran. He was covered in dust, some streaks of grease, and what looked like rust. ¡°You¡¯ve been busy.¡±

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    ¡°I just don¡¯t get it,¡± he said. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be hard to break a door down. I¡¯ve seen them do it before, when they took Old Caelia back for stealing that goat.¡±

    Ah. I remembered the Old Caelia incident as well. ¡°She lived in a shack,¡± I said.¡°The door was barely there. Also, half the village showed up.¡±

    Not a very good argument. Half the village was four people, so if we brought in Aemilia we¡¯d have the same amount to break down this door. Still, there wasn¡¯t a stolen goat behind it (as far as I knew) so we were less motivated.

    ¡°Besides,¡± I said. ¡°Everyone involved there was an adult. They were more¡­¡± I gestured. ¡°Weighty.¡±

    Duran glanced down at himself, then towards the pile at the base of the door. I eyed it, too. I spotted what looked like a helmet, a block of knives (most of the knives in it) a set of cutting boards, two chairs, a table, and what looked like a broken cart. I wondered if it had been broken before or after he¡¯d thrown it.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure there¡¯s just a key hidden somewhere,¡± said Apis. ¡°It¡¯s a test of patience.¡±

    ¡°Not a very patient goddess, though, is she,¡± I said, thinking of how Teuthida¡¯s Voice had murdered someone instead of just trying to manipulate the vote for more political power. ¡°Seems strange.¡±

    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t it just be a test of strength?¡± Duran kicked the cart. ¡°It¡¯s dumb. Why would there be a door if we can¡¯t break it down?¡±

    ¡°That would be Ursus, demanding proof of strength,¡± said Apis. ¡°Or maybe Cabellus.¡±

    ¡°She wants us to be clever, right? Maybe we were meant to find another secret passageway?¡± I hesitated. ¡°Unless-¡°

    ¡°I¡¯m sure Aemelia knows how to get through. She¡¯s probably waiting to tell us for a dramatic moment.¡±

    I was getting very tired of all of these puzzles. ¡°Right,¡± I said. ¡°Does anyone else want to throw things? Last chance. Otherwise we¡¯re¡­¡± I didn¡¯t want to go back, either. What if I had to speak to Aemelia again? What if she made me deal with those rotten fish? I had to think of something to do.

    Apis coughed. ¡°What if you did some sparring? Perhaps you could practice without Aemelia.¡±

    Well, that was a first. I hadn¡¯t ever heard Apis suggest training to fight, but¡­ it was a good idea. It wasn¡¯t like the fighting itself was bad. I just didn¡¯t enjoy Amelia¡¯s company. ¡°I guess I could spar, if anyone was willing.¡±

    Duran volunteered enthusiastically, but surprisingly, Apis volunteered too. I chose Apis first, in the hope that Duran would realize what he was signing up for.

    As I squared up, pulling the blade off my hip still in the sheath, he coughed. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it better if you use it without the sheath?¡±

    I looked at the blade, then over at Apis. He¡¯d rummaged around in the pile of furniture before retrieving a plank of wood from the broken cart. ¡°Sorry,¡± I said. ¡°You have a plank of wood, and you want me to use an unsheathed blade? Do you want me to hurt you?¡± I lowered the blade. ¡°Unless- hey, I¡¯m not that bad. Aemelia is just very talented!¡±

    ¡°No, no! I just think you should practice like you intend to go on.¡±

    There was something else there, in the way he said it. Apis seemed a little too enthusiastic as he tightened his grip on the wood. But he seemed very attached to me using the blade, and¡­ well, it couldn¡¯t really hurt that badly, could it?

    I would just not hit him. I was good enough to do that, wasn¡¯t I?

    It didn¡¯t take long for me to be disabused of that notion. The first swing went well enough, going wide. The second one, the blade collided with the wood, coming to a thudding stop. Then we had to spend a good few seconds yanking it free. On the third swing, it seemed like Apis was almost trying to get in the path of the blade- he stepped closer instead of ducking farther away, only missing being cut because I pulled back at the last minute.

    Duran gasped dramatically as I put the blade down and crossed my arms. ¡°What gives?¡±

    Apis gave me a falsely innocent look. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re trying to get hit! What is this, are you trying to improve my morale or something?¡±

    ¡°I would never! Besides, it¡¯s against Andrena to engage in battle falsely.¡±

    I narrowed my eyes. If that was true, he¡¯d already broken it by tripping Aemelia. ¡°You¡¯re up to something. I should just quit.¡±

    ¡°Please,¡± he said. ¡°Isn¡¯t it better for me to be good at fighting? What if I get captured again?¡±

    Curse him. He was making good points. I leaned down and snatched the blade back up. ¡°If I think you¡¯re getting hurt on purpose, I¡¯m kicking you off and fighting Duran instead,¡± I said.

    Apis just nodded and squared up again. The first few parries went well enough. I made sure to keep it as light as I could manage, muscles screaming in protest.

    As much as I wanted to be annoyed at Aemelia, she had managed to show me a few things. I found it easier to fight, leaning forward and using the blade more effectively. I also found myself doing a few more movements by muscle memory.

    Which was why it felt so easy to swipe Apis¡¯s blade out of the way. I couldn¡¯t stop myself as he leaned forward, letting the edge of the blade swipe a clean line down his collarbone.

    I yanked the sword back with a yelp as blood beaded up, dotting his skin. ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    He was staring down with a thoughtful look. As I watched, Apis reached forward and touched the blood with a fingertip gently. Then he looked up at me and grinned.

    ¡°Oh, not you too,¡± I said. ¡°Please tell me you aren¡¯t mind-controlled.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not!¡±

    I glanced between him and Duran. Duran¡¯s eyes were wide, and for once, he didn¡¯t seem eager to participate. That was fine. I didn¡¯t know what was happening either.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you see? This is amazing!¡±

    ¡°I think you need a bandage,¡± I said. ¡°Have you been hit over the head recently? Did they do something to you when you were captured?¡±

    All of this time, I¡¯d thought Duran was the unstable member of our group. I had been overlooking Apis. Clearly a mistake. He reached out and grabbed my wrist. ¡°You don¡¯t understand! When I was released, that creature told me I was one of them. I¡¯ve been so worried. I thought maybe all this time¡­ but if that blade cut me and I¡¯m still me, I can¡¯t be a ghost!¡±

    I stared at him. ¡°Of course you aren¡¯t a ghost.¡± I lifted a hand and pointed. ¡°Your eyes don¡¯t glow green. Obviously. Why were you listening to the word of a ghost, anyway?¡±

    ¡°You have no idea how much worry this takes off of my mind.¡± he said, ignoring me completely. ¡°Duran, did you want to have a turn?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely not.¡± I didn¡¯t want to know what Duran had up his sleeve. ¡°Everyone, we¡¯re done with sparring for the day. We¡¯re going back and finding something to eat. That¡¯s it.¡±

 37. [Sidequest] Watery Tomb

    As it turned out, the strange brass helmet was connected to a set of bellows, much like Katla might expect to see at a forge. They had walked through what felt like endless internal tunnels, eventually ending up on a tiny little landing next to the water. On the bank of the stone was what looked like a torture device, which the Priestess had proudly declared was state-of-the-art. ¡°You breathe with this?¡± Katla pointed to it. ¡°On purpose?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± said the woman. ¡°You will breathe with it. I will simply operate the bellows¡± She pointed to another part of the suit- it was made of a strange fabric, too thick and dark, not cotton or silk but something else. ¡°I¡¯m too tall to fit in the suit. Usually my partner does this work, if the grates need replaced or fixed.¡±

    ¡°The¡­ grates?¡±

    ¡°We must keep Her inside,¡± she said, as if Katla knew what that meant. ¡°You will go down. You will fix the grate.¡± She pointed to a toolbox. ¡°It is easy,¡± she said, a clear lie. ¡°Then you will come up, and it will be done.¡±

    She gestured to what looked like a belt with a series of steel plates attached. ¡°You may detach them, if you are panicked. But I have been assured you are very calm under pressure.¡±

    Katla gave Herminius another glare. She was beginning to doubt this plan very much.

    No. She had come south, gone through all of this, suffered through S¨®lveig. She could do one little swim.

    ¡°Enough of your chatter,¡± she said. She held her hands out. ¡°Put this suit upon me. I will fix your foolish southern grate.¡±

    Herminius gave her a smile. She didn¡¯t return it.

    As soon as she was in the water, Katla regretted not hearing more of the silly chatter. The water was pressing in on her from all sides, and she had only an enclosed lantern that was already sputtering. The Priestess had assured her it ¡°hardly ever leaked¡±, but that didn¡¯t seem very logical to Katla. She was already feeling short of breath. She tugged on the hose, but the rate of air didn¡¯t increase. Surely the woman wasn¡¯t strong enough to operate the bellows fast enough.

    Katla would simply have to fix the grate quickly. She watched the stone walls as she sank. Was this what priestesses earned? A watery tomb?

    They should all be necromancers instead. At least Katla had a chance of coming back and doing something interesting, like possessing people.

    When she finally got to the bottom, she decided that she hated this job even more. It was horribly difficult to maneuver the grate, which had slipped away and was moving quickly in the current. It kept falling out of her hands, and keeping it in the right position was impossible. Every time she started to get one screw in place, it would just fall back away.

    The Priestess could barely even see it from the top. Why did she care? Was it truly such a bad thing if Her, whoever she was, got out?

    Katla fumbled another screw, then finally tightened one. The grate half-wobbled. It was sideways now, but partially on. Beyond, she could see the lower parts of the temple. It almost looked like a sewer, round tunnels and partial water level. What twisted mind had devised this?

    She could feel her breaths getting shorter, the air running out, too- or perhaps she was just imagining it. She thought the glass was fogging up. Was this how she would die? Trapped underwater?

    Another screw dropped out of her gloved hands. She hated this suit. It was cold and too thick, making her hands clumsy.

    Katla was beginning to panic. She could feel her heart pounding as she struggled to breathe. Did the Priestess truly do this normally, or had she just tricked Katla into it?

    She tugged on the hose again. There was no change in the airflow.

    The woman was tricking Katla. Surely Herminius had just gone along. What did he care if Katla died? Surely he wouldn¡¯t mind either way. He was just a damp piece of toast of a man. Anyone could change him to their demands.

    Katla dropped her last screw and stared at the grate. It was half-in. Surely the woman couldn¡¯t demand more. And if she did¡­ well, she couldn¡¯t say Katla hadn¡¯t tried her best. After all, she¡¯d gone down. She had tried.

    Katla fumbled the belt free and let herself float up, holding her breath.

    <hr>

    ¡°You¡¯re sure the grate is in? All the way?¡±

    Katla yanked the helmet off and tossed it to the stone floor with a clang. ¡°Yes. It¡¯s done. Take us through.¡±

    The Priestess gave her a suspicious look. Katla could feel her heart pounding with anxiety, but forced herself not to look down. Here in the darkness, it was hard to see the grate exactly. Now that it was half-in, from this angle, it looked like it was fixed properly. Only underneath the water was it obvious that Katla hadn¡¯t completely fixed it.

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    Clearly, the Priestess didn¡¯t trust her. Yet after staring into the water for a long few moments, she finally sighed. ¡°I see. I appreciate your dedication to our temple. I will take you further within.¡±

    ¡°I came with a group,¡± said Katla. She gestured to the right height. ¡°A blonde woman, this tall.¡± S¨®lveig. ¡°Another man. Could you bring me to them?¡±

    The woman gave her a suspicious look. ¡°I said I would just take you to the center. Now you want to bring the rest of your group?¡±

    ¡°I am¡­. Worried¡­.about them.¡±

    Herminius, for once, was helpful. He stepped up and put a hand on Katla¡¯s shoulder. She resisted shaking him off. ¡°She¡¯s truly a sweet girl,¡± he said. ¡°A little short on words, perhaps, but all she wants to do is help her friends.¡±

    ¡°¡­.I will bring you to them,¡± said the Priestess. ¡°If I can. We will see what happens after that.¡±

    ¡°But-¡°

    ¡°Follow me!¡±

    Katla didn¡¯t push her luck as she followed the Priestess, kicking off the suit and leaving it crumpled next to the horrible helmet. At this point, she was just glad to be breathing again and away from the grate. She tried to keep track of every turn and twist, but after long enough in the darkness it became impossible to remember where they had been.

    Eventually, the Priestess began putting her ear to the wall, frowning. She would step to the right, then to the left. Then she would tap on a rock, staring through what looked like a minor crack, then step back.

    ¡°A tall blonde woman?¡±

    Katla nodded.

    ¡°Hmmm.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t find her?¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t say she had a weapon with her.¡±

    Katla swallowed. Surprise. She had to be surprised. ¡°Oh, no,¡± she tried. ¡°How could that have happened?¡±

    The Priestess gave her a long, suspicious stare. ¡°You seem to be a logical girl,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what I¡¯ve seen recently, and we can make a deal. How¡¯s that?¡±

    Katla very slowly let her hand hover towards her hidden dagger.

    ¡°We¡¯ve had some issues in this temple,¡± said the Priestess. ¡°People pretending to be coming to dedicate themselves, only to turn on my fellow Priestess. Our Voice, hurt and captured. Now I see that your friend is armed, dangerous, and setting fires underneath a statue of Our Lady Teuthida. I begin to suspect your intentions are not entirely good.¡±

    ¡°Ah-¡±

    ¡°You have one chance,¡± she said. ¡°I will allow you to go out there, convince her to place her axe somewhere far away- ideally, drop it in the canal- and come back. If you do this, I will lead you into the center of the temple, where She can evaluate you. Otherwise, I will leave you in the outer reaches of the temple. The tears have already been used. You will be, essentially, trapped forever. Are we clear?¡±

    Katla turned to Herminius. Surely he couldn¡¯t endorse this.

    He shrugged. ¡°She makes a good point,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re a very nice girl. Surely you can convince her.¡±

    Neither of them had met S¨®lveig before! Was Katla¡¯s life going to be an endless series of trials? Still¡­ she had gotten through worse adventures before. She would just have to try. ¡°I¡­¡± she started.

    Then, before she could finish, a hand had pushed behind her shoulderblades. A door had opened in front of her. She stumbled out, nearly falling face first into a fire. When Katla spun around, there was only a solid stone surface behind her.

    ¡°Katla?¡±

    ¡°¡­.S¨®lveig.¡±

    At least St¨¢li was there, the only logical person in their group. He was huddled underneath the, yes, giant statue of Teuthida. Oh, S¨®lveig. Never heard of subtlety, did you? He was also noticably avoiding eye contact with Katla. No help from him, then.

    Katla sighed. ¡°Hello. I don¡¯t suppose you have a way into the center of the temple?¡±

    It felt good to be speaking the northern dialect again, at least. She¡¯d gotten used to the southern, syrupy way of saying things. S¨®lveig barely even looked at Katla as she sat next to the fire, putting her axe away. Something bad had happened to her. She had a bandage that went all the way up her ankle and leg and a pronounced limp. There was a bruise along one of her eyes, too.

    ¡°Announce yourself better next time! I thought you were an enemy! Anyway, we¡¯re working on our plan. You¡¯re going to need to do some summoning, so I hope you have blood left.¡±

    Katla glanced over her shoulder. She had about five minutes to take control of this situation. As S¨®lveig began to speak again, she stepped forward. Right onto where the bandage was.

    The howl that resulted was exactly what Katla had been looking for. She reached down and grabbed S¨®lveig by the shoulder. Some people only understood pain.

    ¡°Your actions have made us obvious,¡± she said. ¡°You understand?¡±

    ¡°Some of us are-¡±

    Katla shook her by the shoulder. ¡°I have a way to get us out,¡± she said. ¡°But you have to do exactly what I say. No back talk. No bright ideas. And you have to hide the axe.¡±

    ¡°What if I don¡¯t want to hide the-¡±

    ¡°Do you want more blood, or not?¡±

    Solveig glared at Katla, but she finally rolled her eyes. ¡°You¡¯re always so mean. Fine.¡±

    Katla lifted her foot off of Solveig¡¯s bandaged ankle. She was all bark, but not much bite. ¡°Good. Now you need to listen very, very closely.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°In penance for her actions, she¡¯s taken a vow of silence,¡± said Katla, to the stone wall. ¡°She¡¯s very, very sorry. She only kept the axe because it was an heirloom from her late mother. Who died in battle. Fighting for Teuthida.¡±

    S¨®lveig nodded, keeping her eyes down like they¡¯d agreed. Her hands were behind her back, penitent. Katla elbowed S¨®lveig. She gave a loud sniff.

    After a long moment, the wall began to creak open. ¡°Are you sure she¡¯s apologized for-¡±

    It was surprising, Katla reflected, how few people expected S¨®lveig to hold an axe to their neck. It was like children holding their hands to a hot stove. At this point, it wasn¡¯t even S¨®lveig¡¯s fault.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t personal,¡± she told Herminius. ¡°But if we take one person hostage, we have to take both. It¡¯s just not logical otherwise.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re saying you¡¯ll kill me if she doesn¡¯t show you the way in!¡± He wiggled, trying to get out of her grip. ¡°I thought we were friends!¡±

    Katla didn¡¯t respond to that.

    The Priestess glared at all of them. ¡°You still have to confront your own truth to get to the center of the temple,¡± she said. ¡°I hope you know no one can fake that. It¡¯s not up to me. It¡¯s up to Her.¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you just take us to the next section,¡± Katla offered. ¡°We¡¯ll figure out our own way from there.¡±

 38. Company

    Aemelia didn¡¯t mention my escape when we got back. She was back in her chair, half-asleep with a lit pipe clenched in her teeth. I had to wonder how many of her pipe leaves she¡¯d even brought inside of the temple in order to keep this going. I was picturing a bag the size of a house when she woke, beckoning me forward.

    ¡°You,¡± she said.

    ¡°Me.¡±

    ¡°Suppose you want to be moving on.¡±

    ¡°You think I¡¯m done with training?¡±

    That made her laugh so much she choked on her own spit. She eventually waved it away. ¡°No, no. But you¡¯re needed, eh? Guess you¡¯ll either live or die. It¡¯s been long enough. Even a day¡¯s delay is rather long, in these times of ours.¡±

    Well, that was reassuring. At least I wouldn¡¯t have to deal with her anymore. ¡°So you know how to move on?¡±

    ¡°What? No,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m a Paladin of Ursus. This isn¡¯t my temple, is it?¡±

    ¡°So then, what did-¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a room a few doors over, it¡¯s got a big pile of keys. Sent that boy you brought, the whining one-¡±

    ¡°Balbinus?¡±

    ¡°Yes, bolbingnus, sent him over, told him to bring one back. Should be dealt with. You¡¯re welcome,¡± she said.

    I squinted through the smoke. Experience told me I needed to thank her. ¡°I¡¯ll, uh, make stew.¡±

    ¡°Half a bowl for me. I want a fish head!¡±

    Duran had over-salted and put some hot pepper in to try and overcompensate. It was very¡­. Flavored. I blew on a spoonful and considered if this counted as a recipe.

    ¡°It¡¯s not that bad, is it?¡±

    He just kept staring at me.

    ¡°It¡¯s a very¡­. Soup¡­. Soup.¡± I tried to swallow my latest spoonful without changing my expression. Behind me, Apis was pouring his out into a grate. I scooted over so Duran couldn¡¯t see. Was I really such a bad teacher? ¡°Next time, add more water.¡± I took another bite. ¡°Lots more water.¡±

    Somehow, Duran was eating all of his. ¡°I see.¡±

    Balbinus had returned, jangling with keys. As I chewed on a piece of fish that was somehow both tough and half-dissolved, he tried one that was gigantic and half-rusted. No luck. It didn¡¯t even go in the keyhole.

    Sadly, he tossed it onto the growing pile next to him. ¡°How many is that now?¡±

    ¡°Ten,¡± he said. ¡°I brought forty-five.¡± He was very rattly.

    ¡°How many were there?¡±

    He pointed to the pile Aemelia was sitting on, the stack of furniture. ¡°It was that size. I just took the ones that looked¡­ likely.¡±

    He tried another one. This one was silver filgree. It slipped in, but wouldn¡¯t turn. I took another bite of soup and regretted it.

    Two more keys failed. Then four. I watched as the pile grew. My soup was still not shrinking. Duran must have done some horrible magic to it, because even as I tried to eat it, it just never disappeared. I was considering dumping it out like Apis had.

    Balbinus was holding up his last key. Behind me, there was a creaking sound.

    Had Apis gone to check on the hatch again? I didn¡¯t turn to watch. I was too busy staring at Balbinus as he drew out the final key, a simple steel piece. It was dangling on a piece of golden ribbon. Did I spot a carved squid on it?

    As he placed it in the keyhole, there was movement behind us. A scuffling sound. I glanced back.

    Half-shrouded in smoke. Tall. Wide.

    Holding an axe.

    I dropped my soup.

    ¡°Please tell me that key works.¡± I was losing faith rapidly in my ability to use the blade, even as I stood up and grabbed for it. As I unsheathed it, the axe-woman strode forward. She was grinning, as usual. I didn¡¯t see any ghosts this time. Maybe she had used them all up?

    ¡°Keep back!¡±

    I swung the blade. Much like last time, it did nothing. Behind her, I saw two other figures. She had brought friends this time?

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    I swung the blade around, trying to remember my training. I was ready. Wasn¡¯t I?

    She didn¡¯t seem intimidated. As I held up the blade, I saw her smile. I tightened my grip and took a half-step back. Maybe half a day of training wasn¡¯t enough, after all. Her axe came rattling down on the Abyssal Blade, sending spikes of pain up my shoulders and making the room echo. I stepped back, just barely forcing her back.

    Right. New plan. I dodged back, barely avoiding another blow and glancing over my shoulder for escape routes. Unfortunately, it was a very small room filled with other people. Duran was running towards the axe-woman. Apis was slipping towards the other door.

    I reached out and grabbed Duran by the back of the neck and yanked him back right as the axe came swinging down, thudding down on the stone with a great clanging noise where his leg had just been. I saw his face go white.

    ¡°New plan! We¡¯re running!¡±

    Apis had already dragged open the door. I glanced over my shoulder as I jumped over a chair and dodged another slice of the axe. Aemelia was still in the chair, but her eyes had opened this time. As I ran past Apis and through the door, still dragging Duran, she lifted a chair and threw it towards the axe-woman.

    I was dedicating my time to using a few my favorite swearwords. Why had I thought it was a good idea to engage in combat? I was too old for this. I should be making a nice roast chicken. I could put some fruit in it, some bread, make a nice stuffing. I was visualizing how I would make some buns on the side when a knife flew over my head and went clanging into the wood of the doorway.

    I turned around and flourished the abyssal blade. ¡°Who did that?¡±

    I could see better now that we were in a different room, away from the smoke and haze. Clearly enough that I could make out individual faces. ¡°Katla?¡± She pulled out another knife instead of responding. I swung forward with the blade, but she ducked easily. ¡°I knew something was wrong about those vials!¡±

    Her brows drew together as she pulled another knife out of her cloak (no wonder it was so loud! She had an entire armory in there!) ¡°There was nothing wrong with the vials! They work as expected!¡±

    ¡°Why are you throwing knives at me, then?¡±

    The second knife sliced across my arm, leaving hot pain in its wake. I sliced down and nearly got her, but as she ducked backward I heard Apis yelling behind me. Another knife bounced off of the mail shirt I was wearing..

    Behind me, Apis had opened another door. I turned and sprinted for the exit. I could see Balbinus in the room beyond. He was next to a massive glinting pile, indistinct.

    The key room! Duran was already inside, leaving just Apis and I in range of Katla. I couldn¡¯t see where the axe-woman was, and I¡¯d lost track of their third member. I dashed for safety.

    As soon as I was inside of the key room, Apis swung the door closed. There was a thump, then a squealing of the hinges. Katla was trying to pull it open. I saw Apis¡¯s eyes widening in panic. He wouldn¡¯t be able to resist her for long.

    I grabbed the knob, hand next to Apis, and leaned back with all of my body weight. The door trembled. There was a weight on the other side of the door. It had to be Katla, pulling back.

    Then it all disappeared, and I fell backwards. She must have left. I thumped down on the floor heavily. I rubbed at my backside and glared up at the door. My arm was throbbing.

    Apis was reaching over to check the door. For a moment, I thought we were free. I stood up, looking around. This room was just like all of the others. A little slice, no better than a closet. In the center, however, there was a massive stack of keys- more keys than I could have ever imagined existed in the world. Some were so large they were as long as my forearm. Others were as small as my pinky nail. Most were of a size that they could work for the door that led to the center of the temple. I realized the size of the problem at once. ¡°We¡¯re going to be here forever!¡±

    Balbinius was wading into the pile, the keys falling away from him with a clatter. ¡°There must be a way to classify them,¡± he said. ¡°Whoever organized this before¡­ horrible form.¡±

    I glanced around. ¡°Duran did make it in, yes?¡±

    A hand popped up from the other side of the pile of keys. ¡°We¡¯ll get through, Madame Elysia! I¡¯m sure it¡¯s here somewhere.¡±

    ¡°Uh, Elysia?¡±

    We all turned. Apis was pulling on the handle again, heels digging in. The handle was wobbling again. He was trying to keep the door steady, but he was clearly losing the battle. The door was slowly moving open. In a blink I was back, one hand on the handle and the other on my blade in case someone forced a hand through the ever-widening gap. Had someone joined Katla on the other side of the door?

    It sure felt like it. She hadn¡¯t been this strong before.

    ¡°Leave us alone!¡± I shouted. ¡°We don¡¯t have any money!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want your money!¡±

    ¡°What do you want, then?¡± She was suspiciously silent. ¡°I won¡¯t cook for you, after this,¡± I said. ¡°Even if you threaten me. Even if you threaten Apis!¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡±

    ¡°Even if you threaten Duran!¡± Behind me, I heard more clattering. It seemed like Duran and Balbinus were looking through the key pile. ¡°Even if-¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to say you wouldn¡¯t help me,¡± said Balbinus. ¡°We know.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t work for demands,¡± I said. ¡°I work for gold. It¡¯s not difficult.¡±

    The door creeped a little farther forward. I leaned back, but we were losing ground. What were they using to pull? I hadn¡¯t thought Apis and I were that weak.

    The blade was beginning to heat. I yanked the door back and ignored it. What was Andrena going to do to the door, anyway? Pickle it?

    There was a sudden jerk on the knob, and we both fell forward. There was now enough of a gap for an entire hand to fit through the crack in the door. We were losing. Badly. I didn¡¯t want to leave this room, though. It was our best chance at getting into the center of the temple. We were so close to winning.

    I felt the blade heat up again as I used it to poke the hands reaching through the gap away. This time, I didn¡¯t need a translation. It was an offer, clear as the nose on my face. But¡­

    Was I really going to be stupid enough to work with Andrena again?

    Andrena, I thought, I might be willing to do a very small amount of work together. Just the once! But you have to promise to-

    I knew it. Look who came crawling back.

    You have to get out of my mind when it¡¯s done! I¡¯m not giving you endless access to anything. In fact, if you could stay in the sword while you worked¡­

    You think you¡¯re, what, one of those wandering lawyers? You can bargain your way into whatever you want? That¡¯s not how it works.

    I never asked to be a paladin! You¡¯re the one offering-

    For a second, my hand still gripping the door, I thought I could see a second hand over mine. With a spurt of energy, the door dragged back.

    We need each other. Can¡¯t you see?

    What are your terms, then, Oh Andrena The Needy?

 39. Trial Run

    I¡¯d bargained at markets most of my professional life. How different could it be, bargaining with a goddess? The first time, she¡¯d just shown up and made demands. This time, I wanted more. Actual powers, for starters.

    You have to dedicate yourself to me in truth. None of this half-hearted business. And I want full access.

    The door dragged forwards again. I dug my heels in, to no avail. Two hands poked through now. I could see an eye, too. Was it Katla peeking through?

    I¡¯m not giving you full access!

    Well then! You can just-

    A dagger swept through. I pulled a hand off of the knob just in time, dodging it. It jabbed into the doorway just past my arm with a twang. It had missed me by a hair¡¯s width.

    If you don¡¯t help me, I¡¯ll be dead, and you¡¯ll be out of options.

    That was a gamble, even by my standards. I was sure Andrena had lots of options, but she kept going back to me. Was it just the sword? Or was there some other reason she kept asking me to be her paladin?

    Fine, she said. I thought I heard some petulance in her ringing voice. We will call this a trial run. When you see what I can do for you, you will understand that-

    I don¡¯t care. Just do it!

    The knob was slipping away from us, and they were making no progress behind me. We had to stop it, unless I was willing to fight Katla and whoever else she had beyond the door.

    As my hand began to slip away from the knob, the heat from the blade became nearly unbearable. It even began to glow, a pale white with green around the edges. I tried to loosen my grip, but I couldn¡¯t- my hand was holding onto it so tightly my knuckles were aching.

    My arm moved of its own volition, moving the tip of the blade so it pointed at the bottom of the door. I felt my entire body trembling as the blade stilled, the glow intensifying. When the blade finally made contact with the door, there was a faint clunk.

    Then the door itself shivered.

    It showed first as a trembling. A faint cracking at the bottom of the door. Then the door itself began to glow faintly. It stopped moving outwards, frozen in place as the bottom began to transform. What had previously been a normal plane of wood began to tremble. And¡­. Grow. It started as little tendrils, then full roots. They twirled out, seeking the stone floor and somehow plunging through, growing thicker until they were a tangled mass.

    When the largest root was the width of my wrist, the glow dissipated. I stared as the knob rattled, but the door itself stayed where it was. I still had my left hand on the knob, but it wasn¡¯t doing any work now. Those roots were keeping the door in place.

    You¡¯re welcome.

    Before I could tell Andrena to get out of my head, a hand reached through and grabbed my wrist where my hand was resting on the knob. I tried to pull myself free, panicked. I wasn¡¯t fast enough. Quick as a flash, a knife reached out and sliced into the back of my hand.

    The pain was hot and immediate. As I tried to yank my hand back, a second hand gripped my wrist tightly and pushed a vial through the crack in the door, scooping up my blood. Katla? It had to be Katla. I hadn¡¯t seen anyone else looking through the door.

    ¡°What was that?¡± I yelped.

    Apis had stepped back when the knife poked through the crack, letting go of the handle. I used the newfound space and swung forward with the Abyssal Blade. Unfortunately, I moved too slowly. By the time it was in range, the hand had pulled back.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    ¡°Ow!¡± I pulled back my hand and massaged it. I was dripping blood everywhere, and I thought I could feel my other hand throbbing from where it had channeled¡­ whatever that energy from Andrena had been. At least it had worked, it seemed. The roots were still holding strong.

    Still. Why had she taken my blood?

    ¡°A miracle!¡± said Apis.

    I poked at my hand and took a few more steps back. Andrena had stopped responding. ¡°I want my blood back!¡±

    The door didn¡¯t move. Katla didn¡¯t respond. I kicked at it, anyway. I could no longer see movement beyond the crack. Had they just run after stealing my blood?

    Behind me, Duran cleared his throat. ¡°Um, Madam Elysia? We¡¯re out of keys.¡±

    Great. All of that work, and the keys didn¡¯t even match? I wheeled around and shoved the blade back into the sheath. It felt good to be back in control of my own body, at least. Even though Andrena had only taken over for a few seconds, it had felt like years.

    ¡°You¡¯ve already checked all of the keys? You¡¯re sure?¡±

    Duran pointed to a large pile of keys. It had migrated, from the center of the room to just beside the door.

    ¡°We tried all of them,¡± he said. ¡°None of them work. And I tried to kick it in again, but¡­¡±

    I had gone in and offered my autonomy to Andrena to help us get through this section, and we still hadn¡¯t found the key? Oh, I was sure there was some trick. Some little puzzle we had to solve. Probably some deep reflection about the reality of truth, or some little metaphor about squid. I didn¡¯t care. I wanted to be out of here. My hand was still dripping blood and I had a horrible headache, although I wasn¡¯t sure if it was from Andrena or the pipe hitting me in the forehead yesterday.

    I strode past Duran and Balbinus (who was on the other side of the pile of keys) and knocked firmly on the door, three times.

    There was no response. I knocked again.

    On my third knock, I said sharply, ¡°It¡¯s not polite to keep people waiting! I want to speak to a manager.¡±

    There had to be someone in charge. After a few more seconds, the door cracked open. A single eye peered out. I thought I could see a faint set of gray robes beyond. ¡°You¡¯re another one of them,¡± said the voice. A raspy voice. It sounded like a woman, maybe a little younger than me.

    ¡°I certainly am not!¡±

    I didn¡¯t know for sure who they were, but I thought I had a good idea.

    ¡°You are,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯ve got a big sword, and you, you¡­¡± She was losing confidence by the moment. ¡°Anyway, go away.¡± She began to close the door. ¡°The temple¡¯s closed!¡±

    I wasn¡¯t going to bother arguing. I pushed the door open. It seemed she hadn¡¯t been expecting me to barrel through. With a shout of surprise, the woman beyond tripped backwards. I strode through.

    There was faint bruising on her neck, and she seemed very distressed. When I offered her a hand up, she shrieked and scrambled away. ¡°No! I won¡¯t do it!¡±

    At least the rest of my group hadn¡¯t wasted time. I checked behind me to make sure, and they had all stepped through- even Balbinus, who had seemed reluctant at first.

    We had come out onto something almost like a courtyard. We stood on a lip of stone only an arm¡¯s length or so wide. Steps descended into a massive pool of water, clear and shallow at the edges but frothy in the center as a waterfall fell perfectly into the middle. Above, there was only the sky. It was night, I realized. I could see the full moon and a few stars for the first time in what felt like months.

    Of course. I had seen the waterfall cascading into the temple from the outside, but I hadn¡¯t realized it truly came down into the building itself. I wondered, briefly, how much room for error they¡¯d given themselves (when it was a dry season, did the waterfall still fall into the center of the pool? Or did they have a backup plan?) before I realized there was something far more notable about the pool.

    There was a squid in it. A giant squid, based on the tentacles I could see. It moved, shimmering, underneath the froth. I couldn¡¯t see much. It must get deeper in the center, for that thing to survive.

    I swallowed, hand back on the Abyssal Blade. ¡°I thought squid only lived in seawater.¡±

    ¡°Through Teuthida, much is possible,¡± said the woman I¡¯d knocked over. She pushed herself up and folded her arms. ¡°Whatever you want, however much torture you put me through, I won¡¯t break! You¡¯ll never learn the secrets of this place through me, regardless of your trickery! She Determines All, And¡­.¡±

    I ignored her, turning to face the others and check that the door was closed. ¡°Everyone, sound off. Who¡¯s alive?¡±

    It would be better to leave the door open for Aemelia, but¡­ at this point, it was fend for yourself. She was better at fighting for herself, anyway.

    ¡°I think I got cut,¡± said Duran. ¡°But it¡¯s not on my cooking hand, so I¡¯m probably fine.¡± He held it up to show me. ¡°Aren¡¯t I? Do you think? Or should I amputate it, to be safe?¡±

    ¡°Could you always do miracles?¡± said Apis. ¡°That would have been very helpful in the Capital.¡±

    ¡°Were we always able to solve the temple by just asking for a manager?¡± said Balbinus.

    I was about to answer all of these questions in order, but I was interrupted by a voice behind me.¡°Elysia?¡±

    The sound echoed over the water, making it hard to identify the voice. I was already beginning to reach for the blade again when I finally made out the face. ¡°¡­.Herminius?¡±

    ¡°It is you! And Balbinus, would you look at that!¡± He was smiling, but he was bruised, too. I had to admit, I was surprised he had made it this far. ¡°You would not believe what¡¯s happened. Teuthida truly works in strange ways.¡±

 40. [Sidequest] Creature of Menace

    ¡°How is this old woman so strong!¡±

    Katla opened the door to the room where the old woman lay in wait, saw S¨®lveig in a rage, and promptly closed the door again. Behind her, the spirit beast stood, watching patiently. Katla didn¡¯t like the way their eyes glowed. It always looked somewhat sarcastic. ¡°I¡¯m just letting her resolve the situation,¡± she said, somewhat defensive.

    The beast looked down and tested the tip of her knife. She didn¡¯t comment. There was a yell of anger, and the door opened again. ¡°You¡¯re meant to help,¡± said S¨®lveig.

    ¡°What am I supposed to do?¡± said Katla. She glanced over S¨®lveig¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Duck.¡±

    S¨®lveig didn¡¯t duck, but she was built approximately like a brick wall. The incoming sidetable crashed to pieces against her shoulder and she didn¡¯t even seem to notice it. ¡°This woman,¡± she said to Katla, ¡°She¡¯s unholy. Something is wrong with her. She needs a stronger solution.¡± She stared, pointedly, at the beast.

    ¡°You want to use¡­¡± Katla paused, trying to reconcile S¨®lveig¡¯s plan with reality. ¡°You have a big axe. She¡¯s in the grave already. Just hit her.¡± As if she would use such an expensive weapon on a geriatric fighter!

    ¡°I have tried.¡±

    S¨®lveig looked over her shoulder as Katla pushed herself up on her tip-toes, both of them staring. The old woman was invisible in the smoke. Katla thought she saw some faint movement behind the pile of furniture, but it was gone as soon as she tried to focus.

    ¡°Is this because of your ankle? I might still have some liquor left.¡± She fumbled underneath her cloak.

    S¨®lveig¡¯s hand closed on her wrist. She was doing a very good job of looming. ¡°This has nothing to do with my ankle. Even in my prime¡­ she is a beast. A creature of menace. I need further weapons. You know the kind.¡±

    ¡°We are low on blood. I¡¯m not wasting it on-that kind of fighting requires much more fuel than we have! You would waste our creature on an old woman!¡±

    S¨®lveig was looking more unhappy by the moment. ¡°You used the beast on a door,¡± she said. ¡°Just a door! Couldn¡¯t you open it yourself?¡±

    Katla sighed and stared, for a moment, at the ceiling while she tried to gain some patience. Explaining about her success would do nothing for S¨®lveig, who only respected success in battle. Why hadn¡¯t she sent St¨¢li to work with her instead of supervise the prisoners? She was his sister. He had been given this trial by the gods, instead of Katla, who had only been assigned it by mere mortals. ¡°I will fight with you. Is that suitable?¡±

    Instead of responding, S¨®lveig turned back to the fight, so Katla decided it was good enough. She turned to the Beast. ¡°I-¡°

    The beast raised her eyebrows. ¡°Good luck,¡± she said.

    Always so sarcastic. Katla tried not to look behind her, or make eye contact with those green glowing irises as she stepped inside the room and closed the door behind her. Then she didn¡¯t have to think about it anymore, because a wardrobe was falling towards her and she had to dodge.

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    It didn¡¯t take long for her to realize S¨®lveig was right. This woman was not right. Katla dodged the first wardrobe, but as she rolled she was thumped on the arm by a chair leg. When she tried to pull away from that, the old woman grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her upright.

    ¡°Another rat, then?¡± said the old woman. She had a pipe in her mouth, still smoking. It just wasn¡¯t right! This wasn¡¯t how battles were fought! ¡°This temple has an infestation, I think. I was an exterminator in my youth. You won¡¯t stay here for long.¡±

    ¡°I am certainly not a rat.¡±

    Katla was beginning to argue further, about definitions and modern science, but all of that fled her mind as the woman twisted her arm and her mind filled with pain. She could hear a distinct crack.

    There was also screaming. Maybe she was the one screaming. She wasn¡¯t entirely sure.

    She was on the ground, she realized. The screaming had stopped, but the old woman was gone. Katla shoved herself up, coughing, and tried to straighten herself with her one working arm. She was alone again.

    She could hear S¨®lveig¡¯s battle cries and more thumping of furniture. This was what she had earned for trying to fight. Her arm was a screaming mass of pain. She leaned against the wall and nursed her injury, staring into the smoke. How was this room not on fire?

    ¡°Did you get her?¡± she shouted. Maybe S¨®lveig would fix it, after all. There were benefits to working with a madwoman.

    There was a shriek of rage. No, then.

    Well. Sometimes S¨®lveig was right. Katla leaned forward and, using her good hand, awkwardly sorted through her three remaining bottles of blood. She kept dropping them, her heart thudding in fear every time the vials slipped out. Why had the woman hurt her arm? It was as if she¡¯d known Katla was important.

    But how could she know? It wasn¡¯t as if Katla labeled herself as a Necromancer¡­.

    ¡°Hurry up!¡± S¨®lveig, again. ¡°She¡¯s climbing!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m doing my best!¡±

    Katla fumbled another vial. No! She couldn¡¯t use that one- it was her newest. Fresher, better. She wasn¡¯t going to waste it. She shoved it back into her cloak and tried to find some from Ursus, instead. It should be just enough for this problem.

    Above her, she could hear more clattering. There was a crash, and then a laugh. From the old woman? Then there was a creak and a sliding.

    It sounded like it was coming from above her, actually. As Katla dabbed out some blood on her finger, she couldn¡¯t help herself. She glanced up.

    The old woman had stacked some furniture up and gone all the way up to a tile. Now she was sliding it back, revealing the¡­ sky?

    ¡°She¡¯s getting away, you fool! Cast faster!¡±

    Katla¡¯s heart was beating so fast she could hear it in her ears, now. She could barely calm her hands. They were shaking in pain. But she had to cast this before the woman escaped. She heard a shout as S¨®lveig jumped and grabbed the woman by the shoulders, both of them falling down the tower of furniture.

    One long, trembling stroke to make the outer circle. Then rune after rune, instructing the beast on exactly what to do, where to go, whose orders to listen to. When to stop taking energy, when to-

    ¡°She¡¯s climbing! Katla, speed up!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m doing my best!¡± Katla fumbled and missed the top of one rune. She swore under her breath and fixed it, then began on the inner circle. Another rune, specifying which beast it was, and¡­

    ¡°You called me.¡± The spirit beast had stepped into the room so silently Katla hadn¡¯t noticed her. Katla swallowed, then pointed up. The spirit beast looked up. Her eyebrows raised minutely. ¡°I don¡¯t see an old woman within this temple.¡±

    Katla looked up, too. Her shoulders collapsed in defeat.

    The old woman had slipped through the ceiling- and past the outside limit of Katla¡¯s spell. A necessary limit, to stop too much draw on the magic, but¡­.

    As they watched, the old woman¡¯s figure disappeared from the tiny sliver of the roof they could see. ¡°S¨®lveig, uh, you could-¡±

    ¡°Forget it,¡± said S¨®lveig. ¡°Do you still have that liquor?¡±

 41. Squid

    ¡°You were freed by some¡­. Northerner?¡± Herminius was taking too long to tell this story, but I was able to get the broad strokes of it. ¡°Wait, how did they capture you in the first place?¡± The last I¡¯d seen the councilman, he¡¯d been in the outer reaches of the temple, still lost in the maze. I frowned. ¡°And did you find a harpist along the way?¡± I was starting to get a little worried about Gnaeus. I¡¯d assumed he would eventually catch up to us, but¡­

    ¡°A harpist? No. And, uh¡­ it doesn¡¯t matter how we got caught.¡± He had finally managed to make his way around the pool, kneeling down next to the priestess. ¡°Ah, no need to be upset! They¡¯re friends!¡±

    ¡°You say that about everyone!¡± She refused to look up, batting him away.

    I sighed. In front of me, the squid turned, a giant eye blinking at me again. I thought I saw another tentacle twisting in the water. It made me nervous. ¡°We need to stop wasting time.¡± There was no noise coming from the doors behind us, but I knew it was only a matter of time. Eventually Katla and her little group of attackers would make it through, and I wanted to be out of the temple by then. ¡°We have some final test?¡± I glanced over at the priestess. ¡°How do I get checked over by, uh, Her?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s right there. You can endure her test anytime. Although anyone of your caliber is sure to fail.¡±

    The¡­. Squid?

    ¡°She would never lie,¡± said Herminius, which sounded less than trustworthy. I glanced back over my shoulder again at the door. It wasn¡¯t like there was another way out, but¡­

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you go first, then, since you trust her so much?¡±

    Apis was helping Duran nurse his hurt finger, and Balbinus was pressing his ear to the door, presumably checking to see if anyone else was coming. Herminius was left to be my test subject. I watched as he approached the water, leaning over and putting a hand in. After staring into the surface for a moment, he blinked. It looked like he was talking, but I couldn''t hear any words.

    Quick as a blink, a tentacle lashed out, grabbed him, and pulled him in. He barely even splashed. He was just gone.

    ¡°What was that?¡± I was running forward and down towards the water before I even realized it, trying to rescue Herminius even though he was long gone. How could the priestess not be disturbed? ¡°Did he- did he fail?¡±

    When she didn¡¯t respond, I stumbled up the steps, getting close enough to see every change in expression. ¡°You just let him die!¡±

    ¡°He didn¡¯t die,¡± she snapped, finally. ¡°He succeeded! The temple approved of him! Even now, Teuthida''s power accepts him and fills him with dedication and truth. Something you would never understand!¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Duran interrupted before I had the chance to tell her where exactly she could put that tentacle. ¡°Can I try?¡±

    ¡°Duran, wait-¡±

    He was taking the steps too quickly, already kneeling down. I watched his lips form vague words, and then with a snap, the tentacle lashed out. With nothing more than a small splash, Duran was gone, too.

    Well. Now I had to do it. I couldn''t just let my apprentice be eaten by a gigantic squid. I glanced over my shoulder, just to make sure Apis wasn''t rushing to the rescue.

    No. Looked like it was up to me.

    ¡°Make sure no one breaks in!¡± I said, mostly to feel like I was helping, and stumbled down to get on my knees in front of the water. Any moment now, the squid would...

    All I saw was my face, poorly reflected over uneven ripples. She looked disturbed, this Elysia reflection, and older than I remembered. I had gained countless gray hairs over this journey. Not to mention there was a smudge of dirt on my left-

    ¡°So, you¡¯re trying for the temple,¡± said my reflection. ¡°Interesting. I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ve ever gotten a paladin for a different goddess before. I should write it down in my diary.¡±

    I reared back, then looked over my shoulder. No one had reacted.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s just you and I. And, well. Her.¡±

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Reluctantly, I turned back to look in the water. Sure enough, there was a hazy figure just behind my reflection¡¯s shoulder. It shone gold. ¡°How are you-¡±

    ¡°Teuthida is a little¡­. tied up right now,¡± said my reflection. ¡°But she put quite a bit of her magic into the squid. It should last¡­. Oh, a few more minutes. Enough for one more test. You''re a tricky one, though. Don''t think about your own motivations much, do you?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re¡­¡±

    ¡°Well, you didn¡¯t think I was a normal reflection, did you?¡±

    "I''ve been hit on the head a few times," I muttered. "This could just be an injury coming back."

    "This is the final test," she said, ignoring me. "You have to be honest. I''ll know if you''re lying. Why do you need to go into the temple?"

    I hesitated. Before I could reply, her eyes widened. Her mouth opened and she let out what looked like a pained cough. For a minute, she was a normal reflection again. Just my face, rippling over the water, a few stones visible below. Then her irises flashed and were replaced by pure gold.

    ¡°Listen,¡± said Andrena. Her voice was echoing and bell-like as always, even coming from my mouth. ¡°I only have control over this little spell for a few minutes, so we can''t waste time arguing like normal. Trust me, this is your best solution. That squid isn''t going to let you through without some serious intervention from me."

    ¡°What is going on?¡±

    She blinked with my eyes. Something about the way she held herself was so entirely different from me, it felt like looking at a different person. ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m done with this. You keep sweeping in and not explaining why. Why is this so important? Why are you even here?¡± I leaned forward, my hands splashing at the edge of the pond and distorting my reflection. ¡°You didn¡¯t do anything for me last time. Now you¡¯re taking over another goddess¡¯s test. Why are you bothering?¡±

    For a moment, I thought I had broken the spell. Then, finally, Andrena spoke. ¡°I¡­. was wrong.¡±

    I must have heard her incorrectly. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Before. When I called you to action. I thought it was, well, a small problem. Easily solved by a woman of your capabilities, without any need for¡­ expensive uses of the few prayers I have stored up. Doing magic is expensive, especially¡­¡± She glanced to the side, as if she was nervous. ¡°Well, in situations like this.¡±

    ¡°And? What changed?¡±

    ¡°The others have disappeared,¡± she said. ¡°The hall of the gods is empty. I think something is very wrong. In a way I can¡¯t fix with only a few priestesses. Please. I need help.¡±

    I was more clever than this. I had come here to bring back an old boss of mine, to help my apprentice. I certainly had heard better recruitment speeches before, and from much more charming people. I wasn¡¯t even sure if I believed her. But¡­ ¡°You can get me through?¡±

    ¡°You will have to go with the squid,¡± she said. ¡°But I can get you through.¡±

    As I began to speak, she held up a hand. ¡°If you agree to be my Paladin. No take-backs! I said I needed help, and I meant it!¡±

    ¡°Just this once,¡± I said.

    ¡°Not just this once. Until the problem is resolved.¡±

    ¡°But that can mean anything!¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± she said. ¡°Until-¡±

    ¡°When the gods are back in the hall,¡± I said. ¡°After that, you have to leave me alone. For good.¡± It couldn''t be that hard to get them back. For all I knew, they''d just gone on vacation and no one had told Andrena, presumably because she was so annoying.

    ¡°Very well. Our deal is made.¡±

    When she spoke the final time, her words echoed again, ringing in my ears. Her eyes shone until I had to close mine to shut out the light. As such, I didn¡¯t notice the tentacle reaching out of the water and closing around my torso. My mouth opened in a shriek as I felt it begin to constrict around me, but I was already underwater, thrashing as I was yanked down. Panic set in quickly. I was many things, but happy underwater was not one of them.

    Andrena didn¡¯t say anything. Typical. I was moving too quickly in the water, trying to kick out the tentacle and get free. It seemed the squid was moving of its own accord, pulling me through so fast that I felt my eyes stinging. They were half-open but all I could see were faint shapes.

    Then, as quickly as it had started, I was flung out of the water and onto cold stone. The impact rattled up through my bones so harshly that I had to take a minute and just breathe. Stone. I had never been so thankful for it before.

    ¡°Another one,¡± said a voice from above me. ¡°I thought you said the temple was closed.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t control the temple,¡± said another voice. ¡°If you want everything closed, you have to reset the-¡±

    ¡°Did I ask for attitude?¡± A boot came down and pressed on my cheek. I opened one eye, just enough to peek, while I pretended to be passed out.

    A woman towered above me. She was blonde, with a face I vaguely remembered and two swords I couldn¡¯t forget. I closed my eyes again. I had hoped I was wrong when that bartender had told me who had left with Durandus the first. Unfortunately, it seemed I was fated to be correct once again. The woman pushing me down was yet another person from my past.

    Flaviana. Duran¡¯s mother. Durandus the first¡¯s ex-wife. And, apparently, the leader of the necromancers, if Aemelia had told me the truth. "Well?" she said, kicking at my cheek. "Are you alive?"

    ¡°I thought you went north to find your fortune."

    She leaned down at that, eyebrows raising. ¡°And I thought you went south to find the same. Unfortunate that we''ve run into each other this way. I quite liked your food, when you bothered cooking it.¡± Before I could reply, she had snapped her fingers and gestured to someone out of my frame of view.

    ¡°Put her with the others,¡± she said. ¡°And if I see anyone else, I¡¯m making it your problem.¡±

    Behind me, I heard a splash as something grabbed me by the arm and yanked me upright. I began to protest, trying to beg for help, when I saw the eyes. Glowing green, set in another face I recognized. Durandus the first, possessed by another one of those creatures. ¡°You have a tax bill to pay,¡± I said. He didn¡¯t reply.

 42. [Sidequest] Loose Grate

    Apis watched with horror, despair, and a little curiosity as Elysia continued to argue with the water. Who was she even talking to? He couldn¡¯t see anything, just a mirrored surface of water as she muttered and yelled in turn. Then, quick as a blink, a tentacle lashed out and pulled her under the surface. He let out a startled yell. Was Teuthida even able to do that?

    The priestess pushed herself up when Elysia had disappeared under the surface, giving him a satisfied smirk. ¡°Well,¡± she said. ¡°That was surprising, but I hardly think the rest of you will¡­¡±

    She was probably confident now that Elysia was gone (since she was the one with the sword) but Apis didn¡¯t have the time to deal with this. It was just him and Balbinus left in the initial chamber, and he couldn¡¯t let Elysia drown on her own. He stumbled down the steps, trying to take calm breaths. It would all be fine. He couldn¡¯t be rejected by two goddesses, could he?

    When he reached the water, however, there was no sign of a squid. Nothing to take him. He couldn¡¯t even see his own reflection, the water was so disturbed.

    He waited for what felt like an eternity. All he could see were the rocks scattered below.

    ¡°When is the test going to happen?¡±

    The priestess didn¡¯t respond. He could hear a thumping behind him, like someone was trying to break through the door. Surely Katla and her set of attackers hadn¡¯t pursued them this quickly?

    Apis pushed himself up. Balbinus had his ear to one of the doors, eyes wide with fear. As Apis walked up the steps, he stepped away from the door and gestured for Apis to come closer. Something he didn¡¯t want the Priestess to know?

    ¡°I think they¡¯re using the axe,¡± he said, when Apis was in hearing range. ¡°I would give it only an hour or so. Those doors looked strong but not impenetrable.¡±

    Apis looked at the door. ¡°Oh.¡±

    This felt, quite suddenly, like a problem he wasn¡¯t capable of solving. He thought of the way the possessed people¡¯s eyes had washed over. Was that the way he would be once they made it through and stole his mind, too?

    ¡°I see your mistakes have sunk in,¡± said the Priestess, who¡¯d walked closer while Apis contemplated his next move. ¡°Are you considering giving your mind and body to Teuthida in recompense?¡±

    ¡°We told you, we¡¯re here to help!¡±

    She stepped back, eyes wide. ¡°Well! You don¡¯t have to be so rude about it.¡±

    Apis flung a hand towards the door. ¡°I¡¯m not like them. I¡¯m not here to hurt you. I just want to help my friends- one of whom is a kid- and get out of this temple. My bees could be in danger!¡±

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    He was losing the plot. Balbinus was clearly not listening anymore. Apis tried to rally. He didn¡¯t often make angry speeches. ¡°Anyway, you could have helped us before, and you didn¡¯t! Where was all of this bravery when Elysia was trying to get stuff done!¡±

    ¡°Well- I- she threatened me!¡±

    ¡°She asked you to open the door!¡±

    ¡°Well- I- she was very rude about it. And she had a sword!¡± The priestess folded her arms. She was very twiggy, like someone had put her in a candy-making machine and stretched her out. It made the way she was trying to look angry have a lot less weight. ¡°This temple has been falling apart. I was hardly going to help some madwoman that stormed in with a sword!¡±

    ¡°But you could lower yourself to gloating once she was gone!¡±

    ¡°I-¡± She looked away. ¡°Well, I wouldn¡¯t call it gloating. I was telling the truth. Yes, once the sword was gone.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t like the woman with the axe, do you?¡± Apis had to take control of this situation before it spiralled, and he still couldn¡¯t see the squid in the pond. It looked like this woman was his best bet, as much as he disliked her.

    He heard another massive thump behind him. He winced.

    ¡°¡­.No. You know her?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t like her either.¡± He pointed to the door. ¡°She¡¯s coming through. There.¡±

    Balbinus nodded enthusiastically. ¡°We need to go. Fast.¡±

    ¡°But- I thought she was on a different mission,¡± said the Priestess.

    ¡°She¡¯s cutting down the door. So she¡¯s clearly coming this way,¡± said Apis.

    They all turned and stared at the door. It trembled under the force of another blow. The priestess put her hands over her eyes like that would protect her. ¡°Well- I- maybe she¡¯s coming. But how do I know you¡¯re not working together?¡±

    All his life, Apis had gotten good results by being polite to people. He was a temple boy first. First with Honey; that was the word of Andrena. But in this moment, he couldn¡¯t take it. He took the priestess by the shoulders and frowned. ¡°Why, in this world or the one below, would we be working with her? Have you met her? I don¡¯t think she even speaks the southern dialect! Stop panicking and think for once!¡±

    ¡°I-¡±

    ¡°Is there a way to get past this section without the squid. Just tell me.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no squid?¡±

    Apis was beginning to sincerely doubt Teuthida¡¯s hiring process for Priestesses. He just pointed. The woman turned, her eyes going comically wide. ¡°She¡­. The grate must not have been closed properly. Otherwise, She-¡±

    ¡°So is there another way?¡±

    The priestess hesitated for a long few breaths. Apis felt like his entire life hung in the balance, listening to the thump of the door, waiting for this horrible priestess to decide if she would let him in or not. Maybe Elysia didn¡¯t even need him- chances were, she would deal with this on her own. But¡­. He was tired of needing to be rescued.

    ¡°There is a way,¡± she said, finally. ¡°But it is slow, and¡­¡± She gave Apis another long, slow look-over. ¡°You must be good under pressure.¡±

    Apis frowned. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Can you swim?¡±

    ¡°I-¡±

    ¡°Never-mind,¡± she said. She turned on her heel and began walking towards another section of the room. ¡°We will discuss this later. If they truly are using the axe, I don¡¯t think we have time to consider. You seem¡­ dedicated. I suppose that will do.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯ll do it?¡±

    ¡°I will need your help to move the machine. We will discuss who is using it and how after the initial problem is solved. Now! Follow me!¡±

    Before Apis could ask any further questions, the woman had pulled up a tile in the floor, revealing a dark hole below. She didn¡¯t even look. She just jumped down, disappearing into the dark.

    Apis gave the trembling door one last glance, then took a deep breath. He¡¯d always wondered if he could have an adventure without Elysia, hadn¡¯t he? This is your chance.

    Apis stepped forward and took the jump.

 43. Lasting Damage

    ¡°Madame Elysia!¡± Duran smiled at me, which didn¡¯t suit the situation at all. ¡°You beat it, too!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s one way to say it.¡± I tried to pull away from Durandus the first¡¯s arms as he dragged me into the little section where Flaviana was keeping prisoners, but his hand was tight around my elbow.

    I took the chance to look around, now that I was standing and walking. We were in what looked like an antechamber. It wasn¡¯t decorated beautifully like the rest of the temple. In fact, it was barely decorated at all. It was dimly lit by a few flickering candles and smelled of dirt and mud. The walls were a mixture of dirt and stone. There was one exit, a looming tunnel that seemed to lead to stairs. Otherwise, the only place I could go was down- into the small pool that I knew led into the larger chamber elsewhere.

    I took a minute step away. Who knew if that squid was still loose? Andrena certainly wasn¡¯t still in charge. I tried to put my hands towards the sword, but Durandus the first dragged my hand away. There went that plan.

    By far, the most interesting part of the chamber was the people inside of it. Duran was tied up back to back with Herminius, Duran looking excited and Herminius looking extremely put-out. Next to them, manacled and with several long cuts along her arm, was¡­.

    I frowned. Aemelia had been right. It was the Voice of Teuthida, and she looked bad. Worse than I¡¯d seen her before. Her skin was near-translucent, and her breathing was slow. Her entire figure was slumped against the wall, eyes half-closed.

    That was the other thing. Her eyes didn¡¯t look right. Her pupils were normal, but her irises¡­ they were glowing an aquamarine blue. Unnatural.

    ¡°Uh,¡± I tried. How to start my interrogation? Last time I¡¯d spoken to this woman, I¡¯d accused her of arson and murder. ¡°How are you feeling?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t speak to mortal fools,¡± said the Voice of Teuthida. ¡°Leave me to my folly.¡±

    Before I could respond in time, Durandus the first shoved me down and began tying me to Duran and Herminius. My shoulders were tight against them as he lashed the ropes tight. I wasn¡¯t even facing the main cavern, which meant I couldn¡¯t see what Flaviana was doing. All I got was a top-tier view of the wall. There was a worm crawling out of the dirt.

    Great. Your first mission as a Paladin, and you¡¯ve just failed completely.

    ¡°What have you learned so far, Duran?¡± I made sure to whisper. Unfortunately, this room was very small. I could hear the words echoing.

    Flaviana was walking behind me. I didn¡¯t like that she was out of my sight. What was she up to, over there?

    I should have asked her where she was going, all of those years ago. Foolishly, I¡¯d just thought she was adventuring for profit. It was the smart thing to do. All of those nobles, wanting some beast killed or some cave cleared out.

    In my wildest dreams, I¡¯d never pictured her joining some¡­ necromantic cult. Then again, I¡¯d never seen myself becoming a paladin, either.

    ¡°Um,¡± said Duran. ¡°Well, I found my father.¡±

    ¡°Very good,¡± I said. I tried to turn and glance over my shoulder, but all it did was hurt my neck. Maybe Flaviana would take mercy on us. Surely she didn¡¯t want to hurt her own son?

    Then again, it had been years since I¡¯d seen her. Who knew what she was willing to do.

    ¡°What else have you seen?¡± I said. I had to keep him distracted. I shifted, trying to access the blade. It was still in its sheath. Flaviana hadn¡¯t disarmed me, presumably because she¡¯d thought I wasn¡¯t a threat tied up like this. But if I could just reach it¡­.

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    Herminius¡¯s arm was blocking me. I couldn¡¯t reach it in a million years, not without some impressive acrobatics. I held back a groan of irritation.

    ¡°Uh, the squid keeps coming up and throwing people,¡± said Duran. ¡°That lady doesn¡¯t seem to like it. I guess it¡¯s not supposed to do that.¡±

    ¡°Very good.¡±

    Wait. If I leaned forward and to the right a little bit, it would move my thigh back. Then Herminius might be able to grab the hilt of the sword and pull it out of the sheath and towards where everyone¡¯s hands were. If I was able to grab the hilt¡­

    Well, I didn¡¯t know what my plan was then. Maybe Andrena could fix it.

    I had made a deal. ¡°Herminius,¡± I said, as quietly as I could manage. ¡°Could you lean forward-¡±

    Blessings for all gods above and below, Herminius understood. I couldn¡¯t see if Flaviana was approaching, even as he leaned forward and fumbled for the hilt. It felt like I held my breath as he grabbed for it, losing track of the hilt multiple times before he finally began to pull it back.

    Then it was my turn. I heard footsteps approaching as I fumbled for the edge of it.

    ¡°It looks like you were the last person to join us,¡± said Flaviana. ¡°It¡¯s time I- what are you doing?¡±

    Too late. She was too late. My hands closed around the hilt. I opened my mind up to Andrena and sent out the closest thing to a prayer shout that I could. I need some help here. Fast!

    It felt like solid heat running down my spine and through my hands. I couldn¡¯t see it at first, but I could feel it. The ropes began to grow, forming vines and blossoming into what felt like flowers. I moved my hand cautiously at first, but Duran moved with confidence. He pulled his hands apart, breaking the now-weak vines.

    Andrena had made the plant material in the rope grow. Now it was just living vines that moved apart at my gesture. I drew the sword and stumbled to my feet, turning to face Flaviana.

    She was kneeling, pressing a vial to the crook in the Voice of Teuthida¡¯s elbow as blood dripped into it. Her brow furrowed as I stood, flourishing the sword.

    ¡°Someone needs to tell me what¡¯s going on,¡± I said. ¡°You look important. Go.¡±

    ¡°If you don¡¯t already know, it¡¯s not for you to learn,¡± she said. With what looked like a slight movement of her wrist, the vial disappeared. The Voice of Teuthida closed her eyes, making the slight light emanating from her irises disappear. In the absence, the flickering light of the candles left the chamber dim. Flaviana rose to her feet and drew a long, thin sword. ¡°Stand down. I don¡¯t want to hurt you, but if I have to¡­¡±

    I glanced towards the stairs. It wasn¡¯t too late to betray Andrena, was it? ¡°If you give me Durandus the First, I¡¯ll leave. You can do¡­ whatever this is.¡±

    Andrena gave a yell in the back of my mind. I ignored her.

    Flaviana gave a snort of laughter. She didn¡¯t look amused. ¡°As if I would allow myself to lose manpower. No one will miss him.¡±

    ¡°I thought you moved on from that.¡± I gave a vague gesture. ¡°Clearly you¡¯re past all of that, and we need him to pay taxes.¡± When I said that, it sounded rather unimportant. ¡°Also, he¡¯s Duran¡¯s father. You¡¯re going to let him just¡­ be this?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s serving a higher purpose now.¡±

    I had expected further discussion. Instead, Flaviana went right for my throat with her rapier. That solved that question, then. I ducked and reached forward with the blade. It went wide, Flaviana dodging easily.

    In this space, there weren¡¯t many places to go. I was already aching from my previous practice. Flaviana nicked my cheek with the rapier, then darted back next to the Voice of Teuthida. ¡°It¡¯s not too late to give up,¡± she said. ¡°I will accept your surrender whenever you choose to give it.¡±

    I tightened my grip on the blade. ¡°That isn¡¯t the way it works. It¡¯s just a little blood.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a pity to ruin the good side of your face.¡±

    ¡°I own a mirror. My face doesn¡¯t have a good side.¡±

    I could see Herminius running for the stairs. Good for him. It meant less harm for me. I ducked, then rolled. But as I leaned out with the blade, trying to hit Flaviana, she darted across the room and grabbed Herminius by the back of the collar. He yelped. The front of his tunic had cut across his neck, cutting off his airflow. His eyes were bulging, his face going red.

    Before he could pull in any air, his hands scrabbling across his neck, she reached into her cloak and pulled out a vial of blood.

    ¡°I hate to do this so last-minute,¡± she said, almost conversationally. ¡°I do apologize if it leaves any lasting damage. It¡¯s not personal.¡±

    Then, as I tried to run across and bring the blade up to stop her, she smashed the blood across his shoulder. I launched the blade toward her, but she dodged, keeping a hand on Herminius. She was chanting something, some strange words. He twitched. I heard something crack.

    Then there was a flash of green light. When he turned, it wasn¡¯t Herminius anymore. My hand tightened on the blade. I could hear Andrena in the back of my mind, yelling to get rid of Flaviana.

    I glanced towards Duran. ¡°You need to run.¡±

 44. Teuthida

    My lungs were starting to burn. This fight was going on too long without any progress being made. I kept lunging forward, forcing myself to use up all of my energy, but Flaviana was just too fast- it was like she knew all of my moves, which was fair. I was hardly advanced with my technique.

    At least Duran had left. I had told him to run, and then been very distracted as Flaviana had come at me with her sword again. The next time I¡¯d checked, he¡¯d disappeared from the room. Presumably he¡¯d gone to get help.

    The armor was helping a little. She had to dart in and poke me with the end of her rapier, which did very little damage. We were just wearing each other out, running around the cavern. The real risk was Herminius and Durandus the first. They kept lunging in at me, trying to trip me. I was having flashbacks to when Aemelia had thrown furniture at me. I was doing my best just trying to keep track of everyone.

    If I could only slice one of them with the edge of the blade, it would release them and I would have someone else on my side. But even that seemed to be out of my abilities as I lunged forward again and only cut the air. Flaviana poked at my ribs with the rapier and darted to the side.

    ¡°Thinking about your choices again?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t ask for this!¡±

    I readied myself with the blade. I had done worse. Much worse. I had dealt with dinner service at rush hour. I had made roast chicken for the beetle. I¡¯d even been attacked by a squid. Surely one woman and a few ghost-possessed lackies wouldn¡¯t be the end of me.

    I ducked, then rolled. Flaviana stepped over me and leveled her rapier at my neck. ¡°I think that¡¯s a sign that you¡¯ve lost,¡± she said.

    I reached up and grabbed the blade, then pulled down. I might have been slower than her, but I was also heavier. She hadn¡¯t expected that! With a yelp, she fell forward. I launched up as she fell forward, kicking her down and slicing her against the arm.

    She didn¡¯t change. Unfortunate. It seemed she wasn¡¯t possessed. She was just like this.

    I rotated and sliced wide, trying to create an area of space. Herminius stepped back, but Durandus the first ducked under the blade and popped up after it was gone. Before I could lift it back up, he stepped into my space and lifted up a foot. I stepped back in panic, but it was too late.

    He¡¯d lifted up a foot and kicked me in the chest. It hit like a full cart. I was flying back, toward the wall, before I knew any better.

    I should have hit the back of my head against the wall so hard I saw the realm of the gods. Instead, I only felt a soft cushion.

    You¡¯re welcome, said Andrena. The hilt was searingly hot under my hand again. I slid down the wall and glanced back for a moment. I could see a massive cushion of flowers wilting and pulling back into the dirt again. That one¡¯s on the house, she added. Let¡¯s win this fight, shall we? And no more of this pretending to betray me.

    On the house? Was she charging me for the other magic?

    I decided I didn¡¯t have enough time to ask these questions. I slid behind the Voice of Teuthida, using her as a human shield, and readied my blade.

    ¡°Now that¡¯s interesting,¡± said Flaviana. She hadn¡¯t moved, or lunged in, even though she had a perfect opening. ¡°How long have you been possessed by godly power?¡±

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    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be shy.¡± She was walking forward now, but slowly. Like she was hunting me. I glanced to my left, then to my right. Herminius was moving to my right, and Durandus the first was on the left. It was a pincer movement. I still had a little time to dart forward, but what would that accomplish? It was still a tiny room. ¡°Be proud. The gods don¡¯t infuse themselves into just any mortal body. You must be very special. I would never have expected it of you.¡±

    I leveled the blade towards her. ¡°That was an insult.¡±

    Underneath me, the Voice of Teuthida twitched and let out a little moan. She wasn¡¯t even conscious. I stared down at her, then up at Flaviana.

    The manacles, now that I was close, didn¡¯t look normal. They were inscribed with more of those strange runes. They even glowed a little. Like they were summoning something.

    I had a very bad feeling about this. I thought I knew what was going on, but I didn¡¯t like it. All of Andrena¡¯s comments. Any god can possess a willing mortal. Or trapping something. The halls of the gods, empty¡­.I leaned forward. ¡°Uh, I might be crazy, but¡­are you Teuthida?¡±

    The Voice of Teuthida¡¯s head moved in a way that was definitely not human. Her eyes snapped open as soon as she was facing me. Still glowing that aquamarine.

    ¡°Instrument of Andrena,¡± she said. ¡°I see she¡¯s finally noticed our plight. Always the last to know. Good luck. She will join us in our failure soon enough.¡±

    Then, on that cheerful note, her eyes slipped closed again.

    Andrena, I thought, I think I know what¡¯s-

    I know, she replied, before I could finish the thought. I am present. I have noticed.

    Any thoughts on this?

    I reiterate. You need to win. I swept the blade, keeping Herminius back. There was a sound a little like a godly clearing of a throat. Please.

    Well, that was reassuring.

    I ducked under a punch from Durandus the First and tried to get him with the blade, but he dodged it easily. Why did I have to be stuck with such a slow and heavy weapon? It was extremely easy to dodge.

    ¡°AAAAAAH!¡±

    The scream was so loud all of us briefly stopped moving. In the silence, Duran swept in, throwing what looked like¡­. Rocks?

    ¡°Get away from Madame Elysia!¡±

    He went for the shins of Herminius, pockets bulging with additional rocks. He must have gone for additional weapons instead, then, since he didn¡¯t have his knives.

    I would have been annoyed, but at this point, I needed whatever backup I had. I took advantage of the distraction and swiped forward with the blade. This time I made contact. The glowing green eyes of Herminius widened for a moment before the light left and he collapsed.

    He looked like he was still breathing, but he wasn¡¯t getting up. I wondered what Flaviana had meant by lasting damage. I turned to Durandus the first, but he was moving towards Flaviana instead. ¡°I¡¯m defending you,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s my job. Defense.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not what-¡± she snapped, but clearly gave up as she readied her sword. A rock flew by, hitting her in the shoulder, but she ignored it and advanced upon me. She had pulled something out of her cloak and was holding it in her other hand. A second pair of manacles. ¡°This is actually turning out better than expected,¡± she told me. ¡°Your sort are very rare, these days.¡±

    I went for her with the sword. As she dodged, Duran launched for her waist, yelling some sort of battle cry. Her eyes widened, but even though she saw him coming she seemed to be unwilling to hurt him.

    In the end, it was our position in the room that did it. She was standing on the edge of the pond. With a splash, she and Duran both tipped over the side, disappearing into the deep water with a plop.

    Durandus the first went for me, but I sliced at him. He seemed to have lost enthusiasm without Flaviana there to instruct him. This time it made contact.

    Unlike Herminius, he kept consciousness. We both stumbled over to the edge and stared into the water.

    One moment passed. Then another. What if they both drowned? ¡°He¡¯s a good swimmer,¡± I offered. ¡°Um-¡±

    ¡°That squid¡¯s in there,¡± said Durandus.

    I glanced over my shoulder. The Voice of Teuthida was still manacled and glaring at us. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you could-¡±

    ¡°I have nothing left,¡± she said. ¡°They have stolen it from me. It will take years to regain what I was, my strength, my triumph. I shall certainly not start with the squid!¡±

    I gulped. I could swim, but not that well.

    Another bubble hit the surface. One more, and then with a splash, two figures emerged. Duran flopped out onto the surface, beaming. Next to him was an alien creature with a strange bronze helmet on.

    It was only once he took off the helmet and pulled himself up onto the stone that I realized who it was. As I ran forward and helped them onto the shore, Apis pointed to the Voice of Teuthida. ¡°Is she on our side? Did you win?¡±

 45. Regret

    ¡°Very interesting lock! Haven¡¯t seen this type since I did a jaunt in the northern islands, back when they belonged to us.¡± I was trying not to be impatient, but apparently these manacles were so interesting that the locksmith had called over his wife and his apprentice to look at them. It had been seven flights of stairs, a jump through a waterfall, and an additional hike to make it to this hut.

    At least they had food. I was on my fourth bowl of stew, and even the goddess herself had eaten two. ¡°Speak not of these mortal follies,¡± she said. She yanked her manacles away. ¡°Can you remove them or not? I tire of this realm.¡±

    ¡°Why did you come here in the first place, if you didn¡¯t want to stay? Seems like you made your own bed and you don¡¯t like the way the sheets are folded,¡± said the old woman. She clucked her tongue and yanked Teuthida¡¯s arm back towards her.

    ¡°There were some political disagreements in the capital,¡± muttered Teuthida. ¡°I thought to be impressive. To show my might. They would have been so impressed, had I shown the truth of my power. But, well¡­¡±

    ¡°When did you get like¡­ this, exactly?¡± I realized I had been assuming they had captured her in the temple. It made the most sense, after all. Why would she be in such an easy place to keep captured unless that was where they had manacled her?

    ¡°I was preparing for my speech,¡± she said. ¡°That¡­ woman. The blonde horrible one. She said she wanted to ask me some questions for the newspaper, and then when she shook my hand she put the manacles on me!¡±

    ¡°And then she¡­ took you to your own temple?¡±

    ¡°Of course not! I hit her over the head with a vase and ran.¡±

    Suddenly the job from my ex-husband made a little more sense. All of those threats the Voice of Teuthida had been making. They had been real. It just turned out someone else had been paying more attention than me.

    Was I really feeling it? Regret that I hadn¡¯t taken that job from the church of the beetle?

    No. It had to be heartburn. I thumped my chest a little.

    Herminius still hadn¡¯t woken up, even after thumping over all those stairs. We¡¯d tucked him onto one of their chairs and put a drink into his hand in case that helped. His eyes were still firmly closed. I tried to reassure myself that his breathing was even, but it didn¡¯t help much.

    Durandus the first had gone outside for a smoke twenty minutes ago and hadn¡¯t come back in. I was fairly sure he was running, but I wasn¡¯t too concerned about it.

    ¡°Duran,¡± I said. ¡°Why don¡¯t you go offer your father a bowl of stew?¡±

    He perked up at that. He¡¯d been moping at the window. Apparently he hadn¡¯t been heroic enough, and waiting for manacles to be unlocked was boring. ¡°As you demand, honorable Paladin!¡±

    ¡°You can still call me madame Elysia,¡± I said, but it was too late. He was already outside. I could see Durandus the First trying to trot away, but he had no chance of outrunning Duran. The taxes were as good as out of our hands.

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    All that was left were the manacles. I turned back to watch as the locksmith muttered something under his breath, fumbling in the lock. With a click, there was a flash of light. A moment later, he was holding both sides of the manacles. Teuthida flexed her hands.

    ¡°My thanks, mortal,¡± she said. ¡°I am glad to be gone from this realm.¡±

    She coughed once, then twice. I was reminded of a cat trying to remove a hairball. Then she blinked, and when she re-opened her eyes, they were a calm brown again.

    ¡°That was horrible,¡± said the Voice of Teuthida. ¡°She was there for so long. And they took my blood! For those- those-¡±

    On second thought, maybe I preferred Duran. I stood up. ¡°I¡¯m going for a smoke,¡± I said.

    ¡°But you don¡¯t-¡±

    ¡°A smoke,¡± I said.

    <hr>

    Avitus and Aelius, Lawyers at Large, were just as irritating months later. They stood stiffly at the entrance to the one horse inn. I folded my arms and stared down at them from the window. ¡°Well? Go greet them.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just- well, I don¡¯t acknowledge the existance of this country, anyway,¡± said Durandus the first. ¡°You know, who elected them? I certainly didn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°You aren¡¯t nobility,¡± I said. ¡°You don¡¯t get a vote. That doesn¡¯t mean you don¡¯t get taxed.¡±

    ¡°You see?¡± He spread his arms out. ¡°My point.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have a point. If you don¡¯t pay the taxes, they¡¯ll claim the one horse inn.¡±

    ¡°How? By force? If I don¡¯t acknowledge the existance-¡±

    ¡°They can call in the guard, and the guard has big swords,¡± I said. ¡°But none of that matters, because it¡¯s in the future. Right now, I have a big sword, and I¡¯m right here. And I will stab you with it, because I know you have the money to pay, and I¡¯m not going to let you worm out of this and make it Duran¡¯s problem.¡±

    He gulped. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t stab me.¡±

    ¡°Would I?¡±

    We both stared down at Avitus and Aelius again. One of them was retying their horse to the post. The other was checking his watch.

    ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll see if there are any payment plans,¡± he offered. ¡°You know, just in case-¡±

    ¡°You do that,¡± I said, hand on the hilt. ¡°Fast.¡±

    As I stared down, Duran stepped outside and greeted them. A few moments later, Durandus the first stepped out. Just beyond, I could see Apis, feeding the bees. It was like no time had passed at all, if I didn¡¯t pay attention to the clouds and the hint of snow on the horizon. If we didn¡¯t move south fast, we¡¯d get trapped by the snow up here.

    One is back. That leaves two to go.

    I¡¯m trying to have a nice moment. Is this really the time to jump in?

    I¡¯m a goddess,  said Andrena. I can jump in where I like.

    My hand was on the hilt, and she was using some of her power to appear physically, too. A shimmering vision of her was sitting on the windowsill. This time, she was more mortal. Her antlers only spiralled up to gently tap at the ceiling, and her crown of bees was only mildly dizzying.

    I think it went rather well last time. But next time, I think you¡¯ll need to go north, she said. I sense a presence there. A fear, a screaming. Like there is pain, fighting.

    Well, I wasn¡¯t stupid. If everyone doing necromancy was northern, and we¡¯d lost the battle for the north, probably the problem was up in the north. Look, can we at least wait a few months? I hate the snow. I paused. Also, Apis needs to get the bees somewhere warm for the winter.

    Time is short. You should strike when they are weak.

    They¡¯re going to be stronger in the snow than I will be!

    Andrena rolled her eyes. You are such a weak southerner.

    You¡¯re a goddess of spring! You should want me to go when you¡¯re strongest!

    There is a ship that goes north soon, she said. There are fighters there already. They will be adventuring into the heart of the evil, striking when it is weakened. I think it is our best chance. You agreed to work together with me. Buy a ticket.

    But I-

    It was too late. She was already gone. I sighed and sat down on the windowsill myself. This was what I got for working with a goddess. Worst. Boss. Ever.

 46. [Sidequest] Hall of the Beetle

    As the squid pressed through the grate,

    Together we cried,

    For it sealed our foolish fates,

    As much as we tried,

    Temple decreed our failure,

    Ne¡¯er to know truth¡­

    The greeting hall of the Beetle was magnificent. Flying beetles held up the rafters, escorted by all of the other holy animals. It was carved out of marble and, after a brief funding issue, a minor amount of slate in the paving stones. Great columns rose, each carved with different images of the empire as it had been built and fought for. Hundreds of pews waited for the public to listen to the Baron¡¯s every word. It was a marvel of the developed world. When the Baron had just been a boy, he¡¯d come here at night just to stare at the way the candles illuminated the gold on the chandeliers.

    Today, he hated the entire construction.

    He leaned his face onto his jeweled hand and tried not to look too despairing at the shrieking of the harp in front of him. The singing and the playing sounded like a dying cat combined with a cart accident. The perfectly-designed hall only accentuated it. The perfectly made stained glass windows illuminated the man¡¯s face in pinks and yellows as he opened his mouth to create the worst sound the Baron had ever experienced.

    He had climbed to the pinnacle of the church, fought with other priests, gained the positive view of the beetles and seen the future of the world¡­. For this? ¡°Can someone shut him up?¡±

    The secretary- was his name Duilius- leaned into Baron Vindex¡¯s ear, trying to whisper over the horrible wailing of the harp. The man played louder in anticipation.

    ¡°He¡¯s, uh, not responding to our signals, sir. He said this was of premier importance.¡±

    The Baron couldn¡¯t make out anything over the screeching. He was fairly sure he was suffering internal damage. ¡°If the squid failed him, how is he here?¡± he muttered. It wasn¡¯t polite to put his hands over his ears in public (besides, it would dislodge the hat of office) but he very much wanted to. ¡°Someone ought to put him back.¡±

    ¡°I apologize, sir. He was nominated by the-¡±

    ¡°Whoever it was, lower their importance. Actually, take them off of the agenda for the next ten years.¡±

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    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±

    ¡°And tell him- what now?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s asking for a boon.¡±

    ¡°Will the boon make him leave?¡±

    The man had stopped playing, at least. He was crying. Had he started crying at his own harp playing? Maybe it was proximity to the damage. Like a bomb. The Baron ushered him forward. At least if he was speaking, he couldn¡¯t be singing.

    ¡°What? Speak fast.¡±

    ¡°I wish only for a moment of your time, honored Beetle, King of All Gods, Whomst I honor-¡±

    ¡°Get on with it!¡±

    ¡°My sponsor to this council, the honorable Herminius, has been struck by a horrible and possibly permanent affliction-¡± probably the harp playing- ¡°and has not woken since he was attacked in the temple.¡±

    The Baron waved him on. ¡°Yes, yes?¡±

    ¡°It was due to a horrible northern menace,¡± said Gnaeus. ¡°Death. Danger. A woman with manacles that tied the gods to this world and created ghosts of their blood.¡± Behind him, some other man was nodding vehemently. Did they just let anyone in these days?

    The Baron began to dismiss him, but his secretary leaned in. ¡°We do have a task force to deal with the northern issue, my lord,¡± he said. ¡°They have been asking for funding.¡±

    ¡°Why should I care? I already hosted them last summer. They were the ones with the stupid glasses, weren¡¯t they? Cultish ones. Can¡¯t be sending them too much money. They¡¯ll get ideas above their station.¡±

    His secretary leaned in a little further. The Baron traced little shapes in his throne. He hated speaking to the public. It took time away from his beetles. He could have learned about dozens of futures in the time he had wasted speaking to this horrible harpist and learning about his delusions of grandeur.

    ¡°Sir,¡± said his secretary, ¡°If you give the task force more money, you can tell this man this issue has been dealt with.¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°And then you can refuse him further entrance to the chamber.¡±

    The baron hired geniuses. He leaned forward and gestured the man forward. ¡°My great harpist,¡± he said. He racked his brain for other comments. ¡°Uh, your unique music has inspired me.¡±

    He stared at the massive chandelier so he wouldn¡¯t have to make eye contact. He had counted all four hundred of the different beetles by the time the man stopped thanking him. Why did they always have to kiss his rings? It took the Baron¡¯s servants hours to sanitize them properly, and the Baron hated putting them on afterward. He always thought about how many lips had been on them.

    He looked down with disgust. ¡°I have¡­ decided¡­ to reward you.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± The harpist was crying again.

    The Baron really, really didn¡¯t want to do this. He cleared his throat. ¡°But you must promise this is all you will ask of me,¡± he said. ¡°Ever!¡±

    ¡°Of course. Your honor is-¡±

    ¡°Good, it¡¯s a deal. I¡¯m sending- what¡¯s a good amount of money? Ten million gold?¡±

    ¡°That is¡­ very generous, sir,¡± said his secretary.

    ¡°Double it. And send a ship of mercenaries up there,¡± he said. ¡°Whoever¡¯s the most violent. We¡¯ll kill whoever did this to your master. How¡¯s that?¡±

    He wasn¡¯t going to listen to this man, ever again. The harpist nodded rapidly.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to compose an epic in your honor, my lord,¡± he said. ¡°Everyone will sing it. It will fill the halls-¡±

    ¡°No need,¡± said the Baron. ¡°In fact, I think you should give up the harp. Someone take him out of here.¡±

    He leaned back and put a hand over his face as the harpist was escorted out. ¡°How fast can we get this northern issue dealt with? Can I put more mercenaries on it? Does it cost extra to have one set that harp on fire?¡±

    ¡°Sir,¡± said his secretary. ¡°Try to smile.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°We still have thirty common people to see,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re being personable today.¡±

 1. Spooked

    Durandus the first stared at me, then at Apis. He hesitated before looking at Duran. ¡°You¡¯re, ah. You¡¯re sure you all want to go?¡±

    Outside, it was raining, a slow drizzle on top of a crust of snow. The weather could theoretically be worse, but not by much. It wasn¡¯t weather for travelling. It was weather for staying inside, drinking some mead, and eating a large roast boar by the fire.

    I pulled my cloak a little tighter around myself and tried not to look in the corner, where the vision of Andrena was leaning against the wall. I thought you were low on belief. You should conserve some and stop staring at me.

    I want to make sure you¡¯re going to keep your word.

    She didn¡¯t have to loom so much. I pointedly ignored her and turned back to Durandus the first. It was hard to feel the same disdain for him I had before. All of the parts of him were the same- the faint smell of alcohol, the slump. The dark circles under his eyes. But I just couldn¡¯t conjure up the same level of anger. Maybe it was the fact he hadn¡¯t tried to stab me yet. Did that make him an ally?

    No. It couldn¡¯t be. I was just glad he¡¯d paid the taxes and hadn¡¯t been selfish enough to die. ¡°You heard the man,¡± I told Duran, to avoid any further introspection. It was making me nauseous. ¡°Did you want to stay with him? I¡¯m sure he can teach you to, uh¡­¡± What exactly was it that Durandus the first did? ¡°¡­balance the books.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going with you,¡± said Duran, before I could finish the sentence. He didn¡¯t seem to even want to look at Durandus the first. He was staring out the windows, at the mare cropping the single piece of grass exposed by the ice and snow.

    ¡°He very much values his experience in his apprenticeship, of course,¡± said Apis, in the way only he could make seem honest.¡°We thank you for hosting us. We¡¯ll think of you and make dedications for you while we¡¯re on the road. If you ever need anything, or further instruction about feeding the-¡±

    Durandus the first pulled his hand away. ¡°Don¡¯t fall in a ditch.¡±

    Still not much for the gods, then. I pushed the door open before we could say anything else regrettable and made a beeline for the cart. ¡°You¡¯re sure you want to leave him with the bees? We¡¯re going to come back to an empty hive.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re blessed by Andrena,¡± said Apis. ¡°And I told them where the food is kept, in case he forgets.¡± He sighed. ¡°Besides. It would be worse to take them north, over the water. I¡¯ll just have to hope he¡¯s more responsible than he seems.¡±

    As long as I¡¯d known him, Apis had treated the bees like a very small toddler. For him to set them loose like this was shockingly out of character, but¡­ he was probably right about the boat.

    I refrained from comment about Durandus the first and saddled up the mule instead.

    If I had been able to negotiate with Andrena better, we would have waited until summer, when the roads were clear and Andrena was at the height of her power. I could have taken the main road to the northern port town of Rocky Mount, taken a pleasure cruise to one of the towns in the North, and then done whatever the Goddess demanded. Presumably it would involve stabbing a few people possessed by ghosts and freeing the gods where they were captured.

    Instead, because Andrena had the patience of a toddler, we were forced to take the winter route. It was much longer, because it had to go through the muddy lowlands instead of cutting through the mountain passes. I wasn¡¯t even sure if we would be able to book a ship. The pleasure cruises didn¡¯t usually go in the winter.

    That was, however, a future problem. Today, all we had to worry about was taking the cart through a week¡¯s worth of slush and mud.

    <hr>

    The miles passed slow as honey dripping. I hope you¡¯re happy, I muttered to Andrena, taking us around a pothole large enough for our entire mule to fall in without her ears poking out. In the summer, we would have been halfway to the Mount by now. Andrena declined to respond.

    Behind me, Apis was snoring (his ability to sleep anywhere was shocking) and Duran was struggling to read through a recipe, sounding out syllables. His voice was muffled by the cloak he had over his head, trying to shield himself from the rain.

    It sounded like he was stuck on the word ¡®cardamom¡¯. ¡°

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    It¡¯s not a type of mother,¡± I told him, trying to encourage the mare to speed up. ¡°Flatter on the o.¡±The mare dug her heels in and stopped moving entirely.

    ¡°Why would they name it that, then?¡±

    I leaned forward and glared at the mule. She ignored me. I clicked my tongue hopefully. Also ignored.

    There was a flash above us, and the rain started coming down harder. A moment after, there was a crash of thunder. At the sound, her ears flattened. I saw her moving as she yanked the cart forward. Spooked by the sound, she jumped forward, fast as a hare.

    It was all I could do to hold onto the reins. We were bumping over the surface as she left the road, running through forest and over crusted ice and snow. What had gotten into her? I leaned forward, yelling, pulling the reins. She didn¡¯t respond. Surely this hadn¡¯t been her first time hearing thunder. She was such a calm mare!

    The cart tumbled more as Apis sat up, waking. I glanced back as he leaned forward, frowning. ¡°What-¡°

    I couldn¡¯t hear the rest of his comments. There was a massive cracking sound, and the entire cart rattled to a stop.

    Next to me, the wheel of the cart slipped off, wobbled, turned for a while, and finally fell to the side. A broken axle, then.

    In front of us, the mare galloped off. She¡¯d come loose, tugging the reins out of my hands. I could just barely see her flank, bright in the light filtering through the clouds, as she left my sight. There was that money gone, then.

    ¡°What,¡± I said finally, ¡°was that?¡±

    There was another crash of thunder. As if to add insult to injury, the rain just came down harder. At this time of winter, it was strange enough to get a thunderstorm, not to mention one of this size. I stared into the distance. It just wasn¡¯t adding up.

    ¡°Did she ever get spooked with you?¡±

    ¡°Maybe she missed the bees,¡± said Apis.

    Before I could respond, Duran pushed the cloak up and looked around. He frowned. ¡°Wait. Why are we stopped? Are we there already?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re walking,¡± I said. ¡°Get your things.¡±

    Duran was suprisingly cheerful about the walk. My boots were filling up with mud, and my patience was running out. ¡°Eyes on the road,¡± I said. I could hear him slowing.

    ¡°But Madame Elysia-¡±

    ¡°The mare isn¡¯t going to come back,¡± I said. I could feel a blister forming on the back of my heel, right where the leather was getting thinner. I was too old for all of this. The next time a Goddess tried to get me into a deal, I was saying no thank you, and no bones about it. ¡°We¡¯re not catching her, and we¡¯re not going back for the cart, as I said before.¡±

    ¡°Madame Elysia, there¡¯s a carriage coming up the road.¡± He pointed. I turned. Apis, a few steps behind us, had already stopped and was waving them to the side. With a great clattering, it slowed.

    A few moments passed as I trudged through the mud and up to the window. I knocked on the door twice. At first, there was no response. I glanced up at the coachman. He shrugged. A moment later, the small window in the door flipped open.

    A man gazed through at me. A very familiar man. ¡°I thought you were going back to the capital.¡±

    ¡°I thought you had your own Cart,¡± said one of the Lawyers at large.

    ¡°I-¡± I paused. Every instinct within me said to start walking again.

    ¡°We¡¯ll take the ride,¡± said Apis, coming up behind me. ¡°Thank you for your kind offer.¡±

    They waited until the door was closed and the coach was moving too fast to jump out before speaking. I was sitting next to one, his elbow jabbing me in the side every time we went over a bump, and across from another, his little mustache trembling with anticipation.

    I cleared my throat. As if he¡¯d forgotten his initial offer, he trembled, eyebrows shooting up, then looked down and fumbled in his pocket. Eventually he emerged with a wheel of cheese.

    ¡°There is a matter of delayed payment from an organization that has hired us,¡± he said, cutting off a piece and offering it to me. ¡°We are under the belief you may be able to resolve this for us.¡±

    I frowned. ¡°What?¡±

    He nodded, very delicately, at the sword. I¡¯d forgotten I was even wearing it. ¡°In your capacity as a Paladin of Andrena.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a lawyer. Can¡¯t you just¡­ demand they pay you?¡±

    At least the cheese was good.

    ¡°Some situations require a firmer hand.¡±

    I stared at him as we rattled over a few more bumps. Duran had put away the book and was staring at me, and Apis was looking out the window, fingers tapping on his knee.

    ¡°Who is it?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Who won¡¯t pay you?¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± he said. ¡°Yes.¡± He ate another piece of cheese. It was actually enjoyable, making a lawyer nervous. Maybe I should keep the sword after I finished this paladin business. ¡°The temple of the Beetle.¡±

    No wonder he wanted me on his side. ¡°What?¡±

    I tried to picture my ex-husband, the current Voice of the Beetle and head of the temple, stealing money from someone. It wasn¡¯t that he couldn¡¯t do it, theoretically. It was just hard to picture him finding the spirit for it. He was a wet towel of a man.

    ¡°For years, we have worked for them often- taxes, criminal matters, hunting down debtors.¡± said the other lawyer. He hadn¡¯t eaten any of the cheese. ¡°Yet this last time, upon writing a contractfor their northern temple extension- as we do every year!- they said it was no longer needed and they would not be paying. That is not the agreed upon contract.¡±

    ¡°And your next solution is hiring me to stab the Voice of the Beetle.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to stab anyone,¡± said the other Lawyer. ¡°Some strong words, perhaps. About the power of a contract.¡±

    I leaned back and folded my arms. At least this was an easy answer. ¡°Sorry. Can¡¯t help you. I¡¯m banned from the Capital.¡±

    ¡°Banned?¡±

    ¡°Better not to ask why,¡± I said.

    Maybe someone else would have pressed further, but it seemed there were some benefits to traveling with lawyers. They stuck to their word, kept their mouths shut, and didn¡¯t kick us out until we made it to Rocky Mount. They even gave us more cheese.

 2. Completely Intact

    Rocky Mount was exactly what the name said. A rock with a few houses on it. The rock was the most impressive thing about the town, striped and large, with a lighthouse on top. Otherwise, the sea dominated. It crashed onto shore, massive white-capped waves visible in the distance. It made me nauseous just to look at. As we¡¯d traveled west and north, the rain had changed to snow, and the ground had gone from muddy and slushy to the white of ice and snow. It was real winter, now.

    I shuddered. From here, we could still book a ship south, to where they drank out of pineapples and lay on beaches in the sun. Wouldn¡¯t that be nice, Andrena? A little vacation?

    She didn¡¯t respond.

    ¡°I wonder why the Beetle isn¡¯t paying for the northern Temple anymore,¡± said Apis. He was staring out at the ocean, too, looking north and frowning. From here, you couldn¡¯t see any of the Northern Fjords or bays. Just the endless gray sea.

    ¡°Not our business,¡± I said. ¡°Duran, don¡¯t even think about it.¡±

    He pulled his hand back from the boat rental pamphlet. ¡°It looks like fun!¡±

    ¡°Not in this weather, it isn¡¯t. Every time we get close to the sea I end up chasing after you, and I bet this time I¡¯d lose you for good.¡±

    Once I was sure we had everyone, we made a beeline to one of the few houses with lights on and smoke coming out of the chimney. It was just as small and run-down as the rest of Rocky Mount, but it did have a small window in the front. The ticketing office.

    ¡°What do you want?¡±

    The woman opening the window was about my age. She raised an eyebrow at the three of us and looked supremely unimpressed when I told her we wanted to go north. ¡°In this weather? You want to die?¡±

    ¡°I just need to go north. Can you make it happen or not?¡±

    She stared down at my sword, then sighed and pulled back from the window. We were forced to stare for a long few minutes as she muttered, running her hand along a long logbook before finally emerging again. ¡°There¡¯s one ship docking in two days,¡± she said. ¡°They¡¯re private, though. Not taking passengers. Otherwise, no one¡¯s going north.¡±

    ¡°But-¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not the time of year to go north,¡± she said. ¡°Have you ever seen ice the width of your hand around a mast? That¡¯s the kind of weather you get. Not to mention the beasts.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s business for the gods,¡± I snapped, before she could continue. ¡°Is there anyone we could hire?¡±

    That stopped her for a moment, at least. She leaned a little further forward. She stared first at my sword, then at me. Then she stared at my sword again. ¡°I didn¡¯t think we had paladins anymore,¡± she said.

    ¡°Can we hire anyone, or not?¡±

    Instead of responding to that, she jumped off of her chair and walked away from the window. I watched as she walked over and opened the door, stepping out into the light snow. A faint wind had started blowing, pulling hair out of her braid and into her face. She batted it away, irritated. ¡°Well? What are you waiting for? Follow me.¡±

    Even though Rocky Mount overlooked the sea, it was a sinuous, long path to actually get down to the rocks. I had to go down several sets of wet stairs, nearly tripping the entire way. It turned out that the seaside in winter was a horrible, icy place.

    ¡°So,¡± the woman said, as I was trying not to fall on my face, ¡°How does one become a Paladin? Ursus just chose you?¡±

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    ¡°Not Ursus,¡± I said, fumbling for the railing. ¡°Andrena.¡±

    She didn¡¯t have a response to that. I managed to stay upright long enough to start walking down the dock. Below us, a wide rocky beach was scattered with boulders that must have fallen from the cliff, some striped like the giant one that stood above Rocky Mount.

    It was another long, slippery ramp down to get to where the boats were tied. Below us were a few different vessels. It looked like this dock had a larger capacity than it currently held. Maybe people took their boats out for the winter. Now, only two were there. One was called the Quicksilver, a smaller ship that had smoke puffing out of a smokestack and the sails tied down. The other was a ship that looked almost slapped together, with planks overlapping and a long, tall sail. There was no name painted on the side.

    The woman gestured to it. ¡°If you want to go north, I¡¯ll take you. But we¡¯ll have to leave tonight, while the weather¡¯s good.¡±

    I glanced up at the sky. Snow was coming down in fat flakes, the wind was picking up, and the waves looked high. ¡°This is good weather?¡±

    ¡°Do you want to do it or not?¡±

    I gave the ship a skeptical glance. If I knew more about ships, maybe I could assess it better. I didn¡¯t know how I felt, giving up control of my life to a ship that could be a complete mess. Especially in northern waters. But¡­

    ¡°You¡¯re sure this ship is seaworthy? In this weather?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s made the trip before, and it will again. If a beast doesn¡¯t get us, that is. ¡± she said. Something about her made me confident. Maybe it was the way she held herself. ¡°Well?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll do it,¡± I said. ¡°Ah, what will I owe you?¡± Unfortunately, being a Paladin still didn¡¯t pay well. I had been depending on selling the mare for a little extra spending gold.

    She stared at me for a long moment. ¡°What is it you¡¯re doing up there?¡±

    Before I could respond, my hand heated, the sword underneath coursing through my veins. Andrena- moving through me. The traitor!

    ¡°Fixing what¡¯s gone wrong,¡± she said, using my own vocal chords against me. As if she couldn¡¯t conjure her own image for it!

    As soon as she disappeared from my body, I coughed violently, trying to get her out. It was just insulting. If you want to possess me, you could tell me where they are, you know.

    All she would say about the other two gods, the ones I had to free to get out of this bargain, was that they were North. Nothing more specific.

    I was fairly sure she wasn¡¯t willing to give more information because she didn¡¯t know. Of course, there was always the chance she was lying because she liked to keep me under her thumb.

    I didn¡¯t like thinking about that possiblity.

    The captain stared at me for a moment, then nodded. She held out a hand. ¡°For you, then, it¡¯s free. I¡¯m Astra. Let¡¯s hope the waves treat us well.¡±

    <hr>

    The waves were not treating us well. After a half-hearted attempt to help, Astra and her crew had chased Apis, Duran and I off the deck, declaring us hazards to safety. That was fair. I didn¡¯t know aft from stern, and all of the lines just tripped me up. In this weather, the entire deck was slick, covered in ice and snow.

    That didn¡¯t mean staying belowdecks was any better. There was the lurching feeling of the waves rising beneath us, my gut not knowing which way was up. That was bad enough. Worse, though, was the crash of the fall. We would thud, the whole boat shaking as if it was going to come apart. It felt like we¡¯d hit hard bottom, even though I knew we¡¯d just tipped off of the top of another wave.

    What felt like hours into our ordeal, Apis and I tucked into the cabin and trying not to groan, Astra had poked her head in to check in on us. ¡°Having fun yet?¡±

    It was bizarre. As if the sea itself had possessed her, as soon as we¡¯d pulled anchor she¡¯d become a beaming ray of sunshine. I wished the same had happened to me. All I wanted was solid ground. Dirt, sweet dirt. I would never doubt it again.

    ¡°Please tell me the weather will get better,¡± I muttered, from where I was keeping my face in my knees, trying not to vomit.

    ¡°Better? These are the calm parts,¡± she said. ¡°If you need to, you can come on deck and look at the horizon. Just try not to fall off. We can tie you to the mast.¡±

    On that note, she¡¯d disappeared. I was left to say words better not repeated to Andrena.

    As usual, she didn¡¯t respond. I didn¡¯t know what I¡¯d expected. Andrena was the goddess of the Spring, not the goddess of the Sea. As an afterthought, I gave Teuthida a few notes, too. She didn¡¯t respond either.

    At least Duran wasn¡¯t suffering. He was bouncing off of the walls of the cabin, full of energy. I should have let him up on deck, but I was leery. He was, after all, still Duran.

    ¡°Please,¡± I muttered, into my knees. ¡°Just promise not to fall off.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t! I just want to look for beasts!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t get eaten by a beast either.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t get eaten by a beast!¡±

    The ship gave another lurch. My gut flipped unpleasantly. I heard Apis groan from the corner. I was too old for this. Why hadn¡¯t Andrena chosen some spry young thing to be her Paladin? Someone with sea legs?

    ¡°I expect you back here completely intact,¡± I muttered. ¡°Now please get out.¡±

    Before I had even finished the sentence, the door slammed shut. Kids. No sense of loyalty.

 3. [Sidequest]

    The surface of the deck bucked under his feet, making it difficult to walk even from the hatch that led belowdecks to the mast. Duran loved it. It felt like dancing, sliding from side to side. There was shouting everywhere, lines sliding. A wave crashed across, covering his legs in cold water.

    The Captain grabbed him by the arm, sliding him out of the way as a line pulled taught. ¡°Kid! Why are you on deck?¡±

    ¡°I wanted to look for beasts!¡±

    It was hard to say anything over the roar of the sea. The Captain seemed familiar to Duran somehow- the shape of her face, he thought, or maybe the axe she carried now that they were at sea- but he dismissed it. She shook him. ¡°You¡¯re going to fall over! Don¡¯t look for beasts!¡±

    He pulled back. ¡°But what if one shows up?¡±

    He¡¯d heard all of the stories. When he¡¯d realized they were coming north, he¡¯d even asked around the One Horse Inn and looked for the stories he could find to reread them. Everyone knew the northern seas were full of horrible creatures that wanted to eat ships in one bite. They would spit people out as intact skeletons, their guts full of acid. They had scales made of diamonds, eyes as big as houses. Of course he wanted to look at them! Maybe he could pet one. If he was fast.

    Maybe that was why his mother had come up here. Had she ever seen a beast?

    The Captain shook him again. Maybe she had been speaking. ¡°You don¡¯t want to see a beast,¡± she said, shouting. ¡°They will kill you. Forever.¡±

    ¡°But they¡¯re-¡± He sputtered. It was impossible to describe beasts. She had to know what they were like! She¡¯d seen them! ¡°They¡¯re amazing!¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re big fish,¡± she said. ¡°If you need to be up here, if you¡¯re getting sick, you can be tied to the mast. Otherwise, you can work.¡±

    Duran looked down. Somehow, when he¡¯d been distracted, she¡¯d put a rope in his hand. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Put that one to the side,¡± she said. ¡°We need to keep the sail taught. We¡¯re tacking against the wind. You know how to do that?¡±

    Of course he didn¡¯t. They didn¡¯t sail at the One Horse Inn. Duran thought of Servius, getting dragged out of the Always. Did that count as sailing experience?

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    He nodded anyway. How hard could it be?

    The Captain slapped him on the shoulder. ¡°Good. Keep up!¡±

    She ducked, grabbing Duran by the collar and forcing him to the deck. The boom swung forward, swishing over where his head had been moments before. Slammed against the deck, feeling the cold water soak through his shirt, Duran let himself smile. Finally, he was getting something done.

    The deck was a place where everyone yelled at him, it turned out. No matter what Duran did, he was in the wrong place, or there at the wrong time. It seemed like most of the time, he was doing both, and also managing to tie knots too loosely or loosing track of some important part. But the entire time, he was keeping moving, watching the waves. It was like he was dancing on a living creature, watching the horizon. Was this what sailing was like?

    ¡°Left!¡± Another member of the crew threw a line at him and gestured wildly. Duran pulled back. They shouted again. Not the right choice, then. He pulled to the side, and the sail moved. He was in charge of the sail now?

    No. He stared over, where someone else was holding another line. They were dragging the sail to the side, catching the wind. He was just counterbalancing it. Someone else ran over and grabbed the line from him, taking it out of his hands and tying it to a piece of the rail with a complicated knot. He stared at it, trying to understand how it worked. Before he could remember it, he was being dragged out of the way as another wave crashed over the bow. The entire ship shuddered again.

    ¡°Captain,¡± shouted someone else. ¡°I think up ahead-¡±

    ¡°I see it!¡±

    The captain was back at the stern, steering as the crew all ran about in ways that seemed random to Duran. He tried to follow them, always managing to be underfoot despite his best intentions. ¡°That beast won¡¯t take us!¡± She shouted. ¡°By my honor, we won¡¯t-¡±

    There was another crash as they tipped off the top of another wave. He could see faint movement beneath the waves now. In the distance, there were mountains through the mist. He couldn¡¯t see the moon through the clouds.

    The movement under the water looked familiar, though. Almost luminescent. He thought of the temple, of how his breath had left as he¡¯d fallen.

    No. He shoved that thought aside, dodged the swinging boom as they tacked back to port and leaned over the railing, staring out at the waves. The beast was out there. He knew it. He couldn¡¯t wait to see the eye, the scales of diamond, the-

    For a split second, the waves split. He could see dewy skin, a wet tentacle curling up. He knew it. It was a little larger than it had been, glowing the same as it had. How had it made it out here? Hadn¡¯t it been trapped in that temple?

    The squid stared at Duran, massive eye slitted and solid. A tentacle rose, curling. He could have sworn it waved. Then, as if he¡¯d imagined it all, it sank back below the waves. He stumbled back from the railing.

    ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± said the Captain. She grabbed him by the shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s too dangerous to have you up here. You can¡¯t be leaning against the railing, you¡¯re going to fall overboard and we¡¯ll never find you. Back down you go.¡±

    Duran didn¡¯t protest. He¡¯d already had a great adventure. As he stumbled back into the Cabin, Madame Elysia looked up from where she was huddled in the corner. Her face was still a little gray. ¡°Oh,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯re back. Have fun?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s unbelievable up there.¡±

 4. Clam Cove

    ¡°This is as far as I can take you,¡± said Captain Astra.

    We¡¯d dropped anchor in Clam Cove, which hosted a wide beach that looked like it might indeed have a few clams and not much else. There was a small community of houses and what looked like a cannery. As far as I was concerned, that was enough. I just wanted to get off of the boat. The cove itself was covered in a thick layer of snow, and what looked like sheets of ice closer to the shore. We had dropped anchor farther out, with a small skiff being prepared to take us into town.

    ¡°Many thanks.¡± I tried to stand, failed, and had to use Apis as a support. ¡°Do you- are you- how can we get back,¡± I managed. Duran was still suspiciously cheerful, staring out at the cove and grinning. I couldn¡¯t find it in me to match his energy.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure someone at the cove could take you back,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s actually a rather large town in shipping season, once the lanes are open. Worst case, you¡¯ll have to wait for summer. They have a few tourists come through for clam-catching tours.¡±

    Fantastic. My way home, dependent on tourists. ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, because I wasn¡¯t about to question a free trip. Then, because I might as well lean into being a paladin, ¡°Andrena bless you?¡±

    ¡°I certainly hope not,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ve never been much for her sort.¡±

    ¡°Not even pickles?¡±

    Before we could continue the argument, there was a shout and a splash. The skiff had been thrown into the water.

    At least the water in the cove was nice and calm as they rowed us into the dock. I stared out at the ship as we were rowed in. It was actually nervewracking leaving it, as much as I¡¯d disliked the trip up. Now that we were being taken to land, I would have no way back. Not until spring, and who knew what would happen in between now and then?

    With a thump, we hit the ice. I stood up, stumbling, and readied my pack. ¡°You¡¯re sure this is the best way?¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t have an icebreaker,¡± said the crewman who¡¯d rowed me out. Maybe I should have learned their names. I shouldn¡¯t have been so distracted by my seasickness. I stared down at the boat, then towards the shore. It was only ten feet or so.

    ¡°Ah¡­¡± I really didn¡¯t want to step on that ice. I hadn¡¯t made it this far in life to fall into cold water and freeze to death. It just didn¡¯t seem dignified. I hesitated, then pulled out the sword and tapped at the ice. It broke underneath the tip of the sword. ¡°I¡¯m not stepping on that.¡±

    Apis leaned back further into the boat. Duran didn¡¯t comment at all; he was staring up at the sky for some reason.

    The crewman just sighed. ¡°If you can break the ice, I¡¯ll bring you closer to shore. Does that work?¡±

    Well, it was a start. We made it one foot, then two, then eventually halfway. It was only a few paces away from the shore before the boat finally tapped against ice too strong for me to break.

    I swallowed. I could make Duran step on it first, but¡­

    Admit it. You¡¯ve got soft. I was just better at swimming than he was. I gave the ice one more attempted swing. When it didnt break, I stepped onto a section. A hesitant attempt. It held my weight.

    My heart racing, I tried another step. Still holding strong.

    One more pace, and I was on the shore. When I looked back, Duran and Apis were already on shore and the crewman was rowing away. ¡°Didn¡¯t even stay to see if we made it,¡± I said.

    ¡°Well,¡± said Apis. ¡°It was just a couple of steps. I think we could have made it even if the ice broke.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t curse us like that.¡±

    I pulled my pack a little closer and stared up at the cluster of houses. Well, Andrena? You said you wanted me to go north, so here I am. What do you want me to do.

    I sense a presence still, she said, clanging as usual. If she was going to keep banging around in my head, the least she could do would be to quiet down a little. You¡¯re going in the right direction. That¡¯s all I know. It¡¯s not as if they gave me an address.

    Well, you¡¯re a goddess. You can¡¯t just¡­ look?

    She didn¡¯t seem to think that was worthy of a response. I began to hike up to the town, heading towards warm food and a warm bed. Maybe I could get a clam out of the deal.

    We headed up a cobbled road that seemed to serve as the main street. Offshoots were all dirt (or, well, ice and snow) and served a few houses, but otherwise all ten or so of the houses in Clam Cove were within spitting distance. I wondered if they even had a boat of their own. I could see a few sheep up on the hill, but only one of the houses had smoke coming out of the chimney, so I made that my first destination.

    Other than being a little bigger than the other houses, it didn¡¯t seem unusual. It was just one of the ramshackle houses along the street.

    What was the worst that could happen? I knocked.

    Katla opened the door.

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    I reached out and closed it again before she could say anything. Then, for good measure, I pulled back on the doorknob and put my back against the wall.

    ¡°I thought she went back north?¡± I hissed at Apis.

    ¡°This is north,¡± said Apis.

    He made a good point. I glanced over my shoulder. She was staring through the window at me. She tapped on the glass, made a series of hand gestures I didn¡¯t recognize, and then made a vague begging motion.

    She was begging me?

    I glanced down at the sword. Surely not. Had I been that good, to scare her?

    ¡°That¡¯s weird,¡± said Apis. I stared over at him. While I was defending the security of our group, he was standing casually, hands behind his back, like a tourist. Classic. ¡°Why is Katla in a temple of the beetle?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure she took over. With her, uh, necromancy powers. Destroyed all of their godly sanctuaries, and trees, and beetles.¡± What else did beetle temples keep?

    ¡°It just seems unusual. The temples up north are sparsely staffed, but not abandoned. I question if they would have been destroyed by a single necromancer.¡±

    Before I could begin to remind Apis about the fact that Katla had, last we¡¯d seen her, been traveling in a group, there was a crunch on the frozen snow. Katla had opened the window and pulled herself out.

    ¡°You can¡¯t tell them about my past,¡± she said. ¡°Whatever you need, I¡¯ll pay it. I¡¯ll be in debt to you.¡±

    I stepped back just in case, hand on my sword, trying to understand what she¡¯d said. In debt to me? Before I could say anything, Duran spoke. ¡°Tell who?¡±

    She gave him such a look of disdain I felt a secondhand sting. ¡°Who do you think?¡±

    ¡°Are you telling us¡­¡± Apis stepped forward. ¡°You¡¯ve had a revalation, and you¡¯re now following the temple of the beetle?¡±

    I would eat my cloak before I believed that.

    ¡°¡­Yes,¡± said Katla. ¡°Love beetles. Love trees. Let¡¯s never speak about this again. Goodbye.¡±

    Then, before I could ask her about hot water or clam soup, she¡¯d spun on her heel and stalked off into the distance. I folded my arms. ¡°Well, that was useless.¡±

    ¡°Good for her,¡± said Apis. ¡°I don¡¯t think necromancy is very good for your soul.¡±

    ¡°Does this mean we can¡¯t fight her anymore?¡± asked Duran.

    I tested the door. It pushed open, letting us into a warm, worn entryway. ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± I said, and found that I meant it. ¡°Let¡¯s see what the temple of the Beetle keeps for supplies.¡±

    A few hours later, and I decided that even if Katla was still a necromancer, maybe we could be friends. Thanks to her opening the door to the temple, we¡¯d gotten bowls of clam soup, some stale bread that I¡¯d toasted over the fire, some goat¡¯s milk, and warm blankets to bundle up in. I could almost feel normal again.

    Still. When I heard the door open again, I reached for the sword. Just in case. When a man came in, extremely blonde and willowy, I let myself relax. He was wearing brown robes and what looked like a green overcloak in the shape of a pair of beetle wings. Over all of it was a massive fur dusted in snow that he shoved onto a hook at the entrance, dusting himself off and removing an equally massive pair of snow boots. Even temple members, it seemed, had to change their dress code for the weather.

    ¡°Ah! Kat told us we had a set of visitors,¡± he said. ¡°Enjoying the soup? We put extra beetles in it for you.¡± When Duran tensed, he winked. ¡°Just a joke! We don¡¯t eat the beetles.¡±

    I ate another bite. ¡°I¡¯m Elysia. That¡¯s Duran, that¡¯s Apis. She was Kat?¡±

    ¡°Did she not introduce herself? I keep telling her, she needs to be more personable.¡± He leaned over and gave me another smile. This one was shiny. I couldn¡¯t get a read on how old he was. At least late twenties. ¡°Vragi,¡± he said. ¡°I keep this place running. Or at least, I am right now. Sorry we didn¡¯t have a proper introduction for you! Did no one else come out and say hello?¡±

    I shook my head and ate more soup. Duran had retreated further into the blankets and had stopped eating the soup entirely, presumably due to beetle horror.

    ¡°We were busy,¡± said Apis.

    ¡°We thought it was empty,¡± I corrected. ¡°We were pretty loud. Were there supposed to be temple members in here?¡±

    ¡°Oh, she¡¯s here,¡± he said. Because he was monstrously tall- just thin enough to let the wind blow him over- he was able to reach up and thump at the ceiling without stretching. ¡°Unnr! Unnr, we have guests!¡±

    There was no response. He sighed, then shoved his hands into a pair of pockets deep in the robes. ¡°Sometimes she gets deep in the beetles, and it¡¯s a different part of the house, so she can¡¯t really hear us from down here. I will go and retrieve her. Unless- would you like to see the tree?¡±

    I glanced over at Apis. In cases of temples, gods, and anything religious, he knew what was happening more often than I did. He just shrugged at me. Helpful, then.

    I considered it for a moment. ¡°Why not?¡±

    We had to climb a rickety, narrow staircase up to the second floor, where he put his ear to a locked door and knocked multiple times before beginning to unlock it. ¡°It¡¯s not that I¡¯m not permitted within,¡± he said. ¡°But if I pull her out while her mind is still too deep inside¡­¡±

    ¡°What happens?¡±

    He made a vague gesture. ¡°Brain out through the nostrils.¡±

    On that cheery note, he opened the door and we stepped through.

    The first thing I noticed was the air. It was noticably more thick, more warm. Above us wasn¡¯t the thatch of the rest of the house- it was glass. They must have paid unimaginably for the expense. It was much warmer inside the room, too. The fireplace- which had been roaring the entire time I¡¯d been in the house- fed to a second grate inside here, keeping it warm enough that I felt sweat beading up on my skin.

    All of it was geared towards one thing, as far as I could tell. Pressing up against the glass were pale green leaves, still in the thick, humid air. The tree itself wasn¡¯t large by tree standards, but for something inside a house, it still seemed massive. The trunk was as thick as my waist. I couldn¡¯t see the color of the bark. Every inch of it was covered in swarming beetles- all the way to the lump at the bottom. As I stared, I could just barely make out a head, a pair of arms.

    I swallowed. There was a powerful part of me wanting to turn around and run away entirely. No person in their right mind let themselves get swallowed by a beetle swarm. I managed to ask a question instead.

    ¡°How did you get all of the dirt in here?¡± I could imagine the house collapsing under the weight already.

    ¡°It¡¯s actually filling a lower room,¡± he said. ¡°We carted it in specially, after the dirt here was too acidic for our type of tree. Is it not a modern miracle?¡±

    He wasn¡¯t even trying to pull the woman out of the swarm. I cleared my throat. ¡°Is the brain problem still a worry, or¡­¡±

    ¡°Ah! No. I was just distracted. My apologies- you deserve to be greeted!¡± He turned and walked through the churning beetles, lowering a hand to pat her on the shoulder. ¡°Unnr! Unnr, our guest!¡±

    As if she wasn¡¯t inconvenienced at all, the woman rose and turned towards me. They dripped off of her like water, clinging onto her hair, her clothing. ¡°Ah! Thank you for telling me.¡± As she got within touching distanced, she bowed. ¡°Honored Paladin! You spoke with one of our order last summer. We are glad to know you are within our bounds once more.¡±

    Now that she wasn¡¯t covered in beetles, I could notice more. She was wearing those same unsettling glasses- the ones that had dozens of lenses, like beetle eyes. ¡°One of your order?¡±

    ¡°It matters not,¡± she said, waving a hand. ¡°A word to one of us is a word to all of us.¡± She clutched my hand. A beetle ran over my wrist. I shuddered. ¡°You couldn¡¯t have come soon enough. How do you feel about breaking and entering?¡±

 5. Two Figs

    The four major gods (well, five, after we¡¯d promoted Celeres) all had a logical sort of sense to me. Ursus, the bear, blessed hunters and woodsmen- the wild. The horse god Cabellus claimed domain over war and soldiers. Teuthida claimed the sea and all the beasts within. Andrena¡­ well, enough said about Andrena. All had other domains, of course. Truth and wisdom and patience, or whatever else their temples cared about at the moment. But at the core, they represented real people. Real places in the world.

    That was why the Beetle had never appealed to me. Technically, the Temple of the Beetle ruled over insects, but all of the preaching from the Temple was about the future or the past, weird thoughts about time and souls. Nothing concrete.

    This, however, was unusual even for them. The Temple of the Beetle had trees sometimes, and holy beetles, but I didn¡¯t know of any order that communed with them like this.

    Had I found a cult? I stared at my hand where a few beetles were crawling on it and tried not to flinch back. Horrible creatures with too many legs. And the feeling on my skin¡­ it made the back of my neck crawl.

    ¡°Breaking and entering,¡± said Unnr, who was still partially covered in beetles. Her large glasses reflected the dim light of the room, the only thing new and sparkling within. I couldn¡¯t see her eyes behind them. ¡°Are you willing?¡±

    Next to her, Vragi leaned in and gave an awkward laugh. ¡°We don¡¯t need to overwhelm our visitors all at once! Why don¡¯t we go downstairs and have some nice soup?¡±

    ¡°What are we breaking into?¡± I finally pulled my hand out of her grasp.

    She patted me on the shoulder. ¡°Maybe Vragi is right. I¡¯ll tell you over tea.¡±

    I didn¡¯t get rid of the feeling of beetles running over my skin until we were well down the stairs and out of the tree¡¯s range. I watched as Unnr dabbled around in the kitchen, pouring some water into a kettle from a basin and putting it over a small boiler while whistling under her breath tunelessly. She still had a beetle on the side of her neck. She didn¡¯t seem very bothered by it.

    I had to figure out how bad this was. Were we going to all get eaten by beetles? ¡°The Southern Temples¡­. aren¡¯t like this.¡±

    ¡°Of course they aren¡¯t,¡± she said. ¡°They don¡¯t understand the mind of the beetle like we do.¡±

    With a whistle, the kettle boiled. I stared as she crushed what looked like bark into the bottom of a couple of rough clay cups without handles and pushed one over towards me. I cupped one and took a hesitant sip.

    It was horrible.

    ¡°Finish it,¡± she told me. ¡°You won¡¯t regret it.¡±

    I turned to look for Vragi, but he¡¯d disappeared into the main room. I could hear some quiet conversation trickling out, an exclamation from Duran and a laugh from Apis. I was stuck with the beetle woman, then. Perfect.

    I took another sip of the tea. It was still bad.

    ¡°Kat,¡± I started, ¡°When did she-¡±

    ¡°Now that I have indulged in social niceties, we must decide if we can work together.¡± She cut me off before I could finish. ¡°What do you know of the tides of the northern peninsula?¡±

    I shook my head. She waved a hand. ¡°No matter! I will educate you if necessary. You are a holy warrior, yes? You can cleanse those who are unworthy?¡±

    ¡°I can¡­.¡± I hesitated. ¡°My sword can remove ghosts.¡±

    ¡°Excellent.¡± As if that answered all of her questions, she reached into an upper cabinet and rummaged around, eventually emerging with a scroll. ¡°What do you know of the Academies here?¡±

    ¡°Never came up for me.¡± I was a cook, not a northern academic.

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    ¡°Mostly military schools,¡± she said. ¡°At least, that¡¯s what they claim.¡± She pushed a few empty bowls aside on the table in the center of the room and flattened the scroll, revealing a map. There was the peninsula of the north, depicted mostly by arrows that must have depicted currents. For a second, I was swayed by how far I was from home. The Capital wasn¡¯t even on the map.

    Then Unnr¡¯s hand poked down, and I focused on where she was pointing instead. ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± she said. The label just said Clams.

    The finger drew across the map, north, following the coastline. It paused briefly at another inlet. ¡°One of ours left to investigate from this temple two months ago. She hasn¡¯t been heard from since.¡± Another movement north, another pause. ¡°This temple hasn¡¯t checked in for a year and a half.¡± Another movement, this one west, towards a cluster of islands so far north I was surprised anyone could survive there. ¡°These temples rarely checked in anyway. We stopped hearing from them seven years ago.¡±

    A final stop. It was a craggy island, far from almost everything. Someone had drawn a sea serpent next to the coastline. ¡°No one has heard anything from these temples since just after the war ended.¡±

    She looked up at me afterwards expectantly. I just stared. ¡°And?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s host to the largest Academy currently running,¡± Unnr said. ¡°The Crags. When the war began, it was simply a staging area and drydock for ships in the summer when the seas were calmer. Right after the war ended, our temples started disappearing, and the The Crags grew. It can¡¯t be a coincidence!¡± Her hand stabbed down on the map again, crinkling the parchment. ¡°I think our Imagos are disappearing because they¡¯ve learned too much. Clearly, the Beetle anticipated my needs and sent you here to help.¡±

    ¡°Actually,¡± I tried, but she was still talking.

    ¡°No one believes me, but the The Crags is responsible for it all! Why would they have such a large military presence, and only one ship? It¡¯s preposterous. They must be doing something else to require such a large staff. It¡¯s not hard to read purchase proposals, you know. They have an absurd amount of teaching staff for the children they teach.¡±

    ¡°Stop!¡±

    Her mouth half-open, Unnr stared at me. She was breathing heavily. I still couldn¡¯t see her eyes behind those ridiculous glasses.

    ¡°What if those Imagos just¡­ quit?¡± When she started to speak, I held up a hand. ¡°I mean, pay hasn¡¯t been coming through consistently, has it? And the weather isn¡¯t great. Isn¡¯t it possible for them to just leave?¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°Not just temple staff. Imagos.¡±

    I was missing something. Even though I didn¡¯t even know if I wanted to help, I decided I might as well ask. ¡°Why are Imagos so¡­¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re all the same,¡± she said. She tapped her head. ¡°We took the beetle. We are the beetle. What I know, they know. The same goes for them. They couldn¡¯t just disappear unless something else was going on.¡±

    Vragi had actually been telling the truth about her brain coming out of her nostrils? What was she even describing- some sort of temple hivemind?

    That couldn¡¯t be real, could it?

    I took an involuntary step back. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ taking a walk.¡±

    ¡°Please,¡± she said, as I pushed the back door open and got hit by a gust of cold wind. ¡°We need you, Paladin. We must change this before it¡¯s too late.¡±

    Why, I asked Andrena, stalking around to avoid going back inside and speaking to Unnr, Do we always find strange people on these trips? Can you never intervene to have me meet someone normal? Helpful?

    It happened in the blink of an eye. One moment, I was stalking up a hill, feet crunching intermittently on frozen grass and half-crusted over snow. The next, Andrena was walking next to me, insultingly graceful as I slipped angrily up.

    I think that was actually quite informative, she said. They must be bold, to try and attack the Beetle. We must act quickly.

    You think I should work with her?

    Andrena actually stopped and laughed. It was difficult to see her in the falling snow. I wondered if I was just imagining her, exhausted as I was. Of course not! I couldn¡¯t give two figs if the Beetle is captured. It would do it some good, to be humiliated.

    You just said she had some good information.

    You can take the map, she said. Waste no more time with the beetle girl that talks too much. She will undoubtedly weaken you.

    What did the beetle do to you, exactly? I knew my own grudge, but it seemed unfair to put that on Unnr. Instead of responding, Andrena just disappeared. Classic. I was left to hike the rest of the way up myself. I should have brought a heavier jacket. By the time I was at the peak of the hill, the wind was gusting again, making me shiver.

    Still. It was almost worth it, staring out at the view. Below me, the houses clustered together next to the ocean were almost picturesque. In all my life, I¡¯d never imagined going this far north. Especially not in winter.

    This was a new land. I didn¡¯t know anything about the customs, about the government. I barely even knew where we were. Yes, it was a little bit exciting. But mostly it was scary. Would it be so bad, to get help from a local?

    Except for the part where she¡¯s clearly not all there. Is it worth the risk?

    I watched the waves crashing for a few more minutes as the sun set. It was almost unfair for it to be this beautiful when it was also so cold. I almost wished I had brought up that horrible tea. At least it would have been something warm to hold.

 6. Redeemed

    On my way down from the peak, I felt an unpleasant coldness on the back of my heel. Snow had melted on the top of my boots and trickled down, making my socks wet.

    I had to thump on the back door four or five times before someone finally opened it. It was Duran, who looked half-awake and was still draped in the blanket. He glanced over his shoulder before he stepped outside.

    ¡°Are we going to be beetle people now?¡±

    Not another crisis. I shook my head. ¡°I¡¯m not the Beetle¡¯s paladin.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just- I don¡¯t think you should do it, Madame Elysia,¡± he said. ¡°She said they put grubs up their noses. Their noses!¡±

    I couldn¡¯t tell if he was horrified or delighted. Knowing Duran, it was both. I put a hand on his shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m not going to put a grub up my nose. Or your nose, or anyone else¡¯s nose. Are you satisfied?¡±

    I couldn¡¯t tell if he was, but he did turn around and push the door back open.

    Inside, I pulled off my boots and looked for Apis. He was still nestled deep into one of the chairs and looked like he was half-asleep.

    ¡°Wake up,¡± I said. He made a surprised noise and pushed himself up. ¡°We¡¯re having a team discussion.¡±

    As Apis stood, I sighed and grabbed both him and Duran by the elbows. The pantry would have to do.

    ¡°So,¡± I said, my elbow deep in what felt like onions. It was pitch black in the pantry and cramped, making it so I had to do everything by feel or sound. ¡°I think we should work with the Temple of the Beetle.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± said Apis. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know. They¡¯re very uppity.¡±

    ¡°Does this mean we¡¯re getting nose grubs?¡± I still couldn¡¯t tell if Duran wanted one or not.

    ¡°No nose grubs. That woman, Unnr, thinks there¡¯s some Academy stealing members of her Temple. Since we¡¯re also looking for kidnapped voices¡­¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re sure she¡¯s correct?¡± Apis sounded a little more awake now. ¡°Or that they¡¯re related?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± I said.

    We all stood in silence in the darkness for a moment.

    ¡°I suppose we don¡¯t have any other leads,¡± said Apis, after a moment.

    ¡°She seemed very convinced,¡± I said.

    I just told you, don¡¯t bother with her!

    I glanced up. Andrena had shoved herself into the pantry too, but there wasn¡¯t room down where Apis, Duran and I had all crammed in. She was pushing herself up against the ceiling. Her ghostly face was still able to look disappointed and annoyed, even as she was spidering across several walls.

    Are my words not audible? Can I not work as your patron anymore? That woman is useless. Do not waste time on her.

    You don¡¯t know where we should go, other than north, I told her. Unnr¡¯s target is north. You should be happy with this choice.

    She scowled at me. I closed my eyes and kept talking to the others. ¡°Should I count you as a vote for or against, Apis?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re voting?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m tired of making all of the decisions,¡± I said. ¡°If we¡¯re going to work with the Temple of the Beetle, I think we¡¯re going to be breaking into a military academy.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Now Duran sounded excited.

    ¡°We might get banned from another city,¡± I added. ¡°Maybe a country. Or jailed, if we¡¯re caught. Don¡¯t act like it¡¯s fun.¡±

    ¡°We won¡¯t be caught,¡± said Duran. ¡°You have a sword.¡±

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    I wanted to hit my head on something. Repeatedly. Apis cleared his throat. ¡°I think it¡¯s worth the risk. If the Temple has been close to the people who have captured the other gods, I¡¯m sure they must have noticed something. Chances are, she¡¯s correct. And if she¡¯s wrong..¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll leave,¡± I said.

    ¡°Right.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°I vote for.¡±

    ¡°Duran?¡±

    Duran barely let me finish before he said, ¡°I vote for!¡±

    ¡°I also vote for,¡± I said, grudgingly.

    Against! I vote against! I ignored Andrena.

    ¡°Excellent!¡± The pantry door swung open. Beyond, Unnr and Vragi stood with expectant looks. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯ve decided to join us,¡± said Unnr. ¡°We may have to spend a few days preparing for the journey north, but trust in me.¡±

    As I stared, she turned on her heel and walked off. Back to her beetles, I was sure. I already regretted it. I turned to look at Apis. ¡°Do you think she was listening the entire time?¡±

    He just shook his head. In disappointment or disbelief, I couldn¡¯t tell.

    <hr>

    The next morning, I woke early enough to see my breath still misting in the air. The fire must have banked low overnight.

    We had all curled up in the main room of the temple, in front of the mantle. Duran was an unmoving lump in a chair, and Apis was faintly snoring on one of the couches. I had taken a rocking chair, but where I lay now was solid wood. I must have fallen down in the night.

    Watching my breath, staring up at the ceiling, I was midway through deciding if it was worth it to attempt the outhouse, or if I wanted to wait until the next morning, when I heard the faintest of sounds. One footstep, then two.

    Maybe it was a premonition. Maybe I was just nosy. Either way, I slid a little further underneath the covers and watched as a pair of feet snuck down the stairs, skipping one step and moving slowly. They were in socks, a pair of boots held by the laces. In the darkness, I couldn¡¯t make out a face, but the profile was distinctive. Katla.

    Why was she sneaking out this early in the morning?

    She must be up to no good. You should pursue and cleanse her.

    I turned my head just a fraction. Andrena had summoned her image next to me, lying on the floor. She hadn¡¯t lowered herself to getting underneath the blankets, though. It was difficult not to recoil back. Her ghostly nose almost touched mine.

    We need to talk about personal space, I hissed at her, as loud as I could mentally manage. Surely you have something more important to be doing.

    She¡¯s getting away! Go follow her!

    I turned my head back. Katla had snuck across the room and was now standing in the doorway, pulling on a boot with short jerky movements. I watched as the profile of her jaw turned slightly. She was staring back into the room.

    I didn¡¯t move. I tried to breathe slowly and steadily.

    After a moment, the whites of her eyes gleaming in the low light of the fire, she turned back. There was a creak as the door swung open, hitting me with a blast of cold air before it clicked shut behind her.

    I waited for another few moments, staring up into the dark rafters. Katla claimed she was redeemed. That meant I didn¡¯t need to follow her.

    Also, it was cold out there, and I needed to pee.

    Fine, I thought. I pushed myself up, pulling the blanket closely around me, and stumbled towards the doorway. In the darkness, I couldn¡¯t find my own boots. Eventually I just shoved on a pair that seemed workable enough and pulled the door open, letting the wind close it behind me.

    There had been a fresh snowfall overnight. A few lanterns had been lit inside the houses, giving me faint light to follow the pair of footprints.

    Where could she even run? This is the middle of nowhere.

    I pulled the blanket tighter at another gust of wind, feeling snow hit my cheeks. This entire project could have waited until summer. These grudging thoughts occupied me as I followed the trail. The footsteps trailed down the street, across a corner, and into the back door of another house.

    The house itself wasn¡¯t particularly remarkable. It was smaller than most, only one story. A few puffs of smoke coming from the chimney showed someone was occupying it. I saw some movement behind the curtains, and pushed myself against the wall. After the movement ceased, I gave into my curiosity and pressed my ear to the window.

    ¡°I¡¯m really not sure I can help you with this, Madame.¡± Katla.

    There was a stomp, then the squeal of something. Furniture being dragged back? ¡°If you can finish the job, it¡¯ll be double the money,¡± said an older voice. ¡°Will you try, or not?¡±

    It felt like hours waiting for Katla¡¯s response. The wind was getting even stronger. I stared out at the pitch black beyond the town. It just got so dark here. There weren¡¯t even any stars visible.

    Finally, her voice trickled through the panes. ¡°Very well. We have a deal.¡±

    ¡°Then-¡±

    ¡°Leave.¡± Now she sounded like the Katla I¡¯d known again. ¡°I must have space to practice my work.¡±

    As soon as she said it, I was pulling back from the window and looking for somewhere to hide. Just as I found a frozen bush to hide behind, the door swung open. An elderly woman, nearly one foot in the grave, stumbled out. She had a long cloak on, lined with fur, but hadn¡¯t bothered pulling it up.

    As I looked for ways to sneak out- maybe she would be distracted?- she fumbled in her pocket, emerging with a flask. She sat down on the step, staring out into the darkness. She took one swig, then another.

    I wouldn¡¯t be getting in that way, then. I watched her figure through the leaves for a moment more. Her shoulders were stiff as she stared at her feet.

    It wouldn¡¯t hurt if I did a little more eavesdropping, would it?

    I stood, leaning towards the window. If I could only peek through the curtains-

    ¡°Hey. This is private. Get out!¡± said an older voice. I felt a hand grab at my upper arm, pulling me away, but it was too late. I¡¯d already seen the important part.

    Beyond the curtains, the pale glow of lantern light had briefly given way to bright, vibrant, otherworldly green.

    Redeemed, my left foot.

 7. [Sidequest] Priceless

    Lady Sylvia was having a very bad day.

    ¡°What do you mean, the girl isn¡¯t here?¡±

    She fumbled in her bag (to be lowered so far as carrying her own bags¡­) and removed the relevant paperwork. The Voice of the Beetle didn¡¯t even look up as she pushed the scroll open on the table and pointed furiously.

    ¡°We have sixteen petitions to hear,¡± she said, and watched him draw something else on his parchment. Was that a beetle? ¡°Not to mention the amount of revisions the tax documents need. It¡¯s as if no one¡¯s looked at these for centuries! Why do we still have a tax on anyone acting ungodly without cause? I can hardly be expected to finish all of these by myself.¡±

    Sylvia had even come into the temple before dawn and gotten all of the paperwork ready- she¡¯d even lined up a fake appointment. If only that horrible girl had shown up, she could have left early and made everyone else finish the work. Now, it seemed like she might actually have to do it.

    ¡°It¡¯s not my job to keep track of every minor Voice that comes into the temple,¡± said the Voice of the Beetle. He moved on to an additional beetle drawing. This one had wings and eyes a little too large. ¡°If you really wish to find her, I suggest you go investigate.¡±

    He was hopeless. Sylvia took in a deep breath, staring at the rich furnishings of the Beetle¡¯s office. The thick curtains, nearly closed and filtering out all light. The large desk with piles of paperwork. The beetles everywhere. On the pillars, on the ceiling, even on the floor.

    What had she expected? Of course he wouldn¡¯t help. She wasn''t a beetle.

    ¡°I thank you for considering my petition, honorable Voice,¡± she said, and tried to make it sound like she meant it.

    The Voice didn¡¯t even respond. Of course he didn¡¯t. She pulled her shoulders back and turned on her heel dismissively anyway. Perhaps she would go home early anyway. What was he going to do? Send beetles to attack her?

    Midway down the spiral staircase, she spotted a piece of a pale tunic disappearing into a hallway. As the footsteps got faster, she skipped the last two steps and tore into the neighboring hallway. There. At the end of the hall, illuminated by a window.

    He was distinctively spindly, all of his limbs too long, a stupid look on his face.

    ¡°Lady Sylvia,¡± said the Beetle¡¯s newest secretary. ¡°I, ah-¡±

    ¡°You and I have some discussing to do.¡± She stepped forward deliberately. ¡°What, in all realms above and below, has happened to the Pigeon girl?¡±

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    ¡°The Pigeon girl?¡±

    She gestured. ¡°The Voice of Celeres! That horrible girl has not arrived as we previously discussed. Due to this violation of my agreement, I think I should be freed of all obligations to the Paladin¡¯s decision.¡±

    He didn¡¯t even consider it before shaking his head. ¡°Oh! No, did no one notify you? You¡¯ll be on your own for the next two months?¡±

    Sylvia took another deep breath. She dearly missed being in charge. If only she was running this place, he would have been fired the first day. Not to mention the girl. ¡°No. No one has notified me. Please, honorable secretary, elaborate.¡±

    ¡°I-¡± He frowned at her. ¡°There¡¯s no need to be mean about it. She said she was summoned by her goddess to cure some, ah¡­¡± She watched as he fumbled in his robes for a little too long, eventually emerging with a crumpled ball of parchment. He pushed his little glasses up and squinted at the ink. ¡°A menacing darkness in the north that must be destroyed immediately.¡± He glanced up. ¡°I hope that clarifies it for you, Lady Sylvia.¡±

    Could anyone claim to be fighting evil these days? In Sylvia¡¯s girlhood, you had to come up with a better excuse than that. ¡°Did she specify at all what kind of darkness it was? I¡¯ve been a diplomat before. Perhaps I should go and apply my special touch to our international relations. It would be a pity to lose equal trade with the North, after all.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s political,¡± said the secretary. ¡°We had a man come into the public petition and speak about it. Something about ghosts, possession, and permanent damage.¡±

    If any of that was true, Sylvia would eat her hat. ¡°And I suppose the best you could manage was a fifteen-year-old girl.¡±

    ¡°No. The Great Voice sponsored a ship of mercenaries. They¡¯re going to investigate the matter.¡±

    A ship of mercenaries fixing the issue, and Sylvia was still abandoned? ¡°Well,¡± she said, trying to think.

    Every puzzle has a solution, Sylvie, her mother had often told her as a child. There was a way, somehow, to get out of the Capitol. If only she could¡­

    She let herself smile a little as the idea solidified. Then she staggered back, gasping in horror.

    ¡°Are you well, Lady?¡±

    ¡°My son! I sent him to school in the north. Now you claim he¡¯s in danger?¡± She had sent him, of course, because the Capital was a disaster. The rigor of a military school was exactly what Servius needed. The secretary didn¡¯t need to know all of that, however. ¡°I must go check on him,¡± she said. ¡°He simply cannot be left alone like this. He¡¯s only fifteen!¡±

    ¡°Lady, as mentioned, we have many people looking for solutions¡­¡± He was backing up again. She had to go in for the kill.

    ¡°My only son, left to the mercy of Voices and Mercenaries? I think not!¡± She drew herself up as tall as she could manage. She still only barely made it to the Secretary¡¯s nose. ¡°I will retrieve him as soon as I can. As the last of his bloodline, he is¡­ priceless.¡±

    ¡°I really-¡±

    She shoved the paperwork into his arms before he could finish the sentence. ¡°I thank you for doing this service for our family,¡± she said. ¡°May the Beetle grant you all the time you need.¡±

    She could still hear him speaking as she turned and left, taking the stairs three at a time. A nice vacation to the North. Why not? Perhaps she could even actually see Servius.

    Sylvia pushed the door of the temple open and smiled up into the thick blanket of fog above. She was free.

    ¡°You,¡± she said, pointing at the nearest person to her. ¡°Fetch my horse. I have a ticket to book.¡±

 8. No Guarantees

    I wrenched my arm out of the old woman¡¯s grip as soon as I could manage. She gaped at me, teeth reflecting green in the otherworldly light beyond, as I stepped into the bush again and fumbled to open the window. There- the latch was a little loose.

    ¡°You are violating my privacy! This is not for you!¡±

    I held up a hand. ¡°This is paladin business.¡±

    She didn¡¯t seem to care, pushing even closer to me as I finally yanked the window open. ¡°I will be reporting you to the authorities!¡±

    She stopped, breathing heavily, as I yanked the curtain open. Many parts of the design I was still familiar with from our adventures in the temple. The intricate designs in blood, the bright green light. Katla kneeling outside of the circle with her brow furrowed in concentration.

    Inside of the circle, however, there was¡­

    A goat?

    The old woman shoved me aside to get a better look. ¡°What are you doing, girl? I told you I just needed his ghost.¡±

    I saw Katla¡¯s hand tighten into a fist on the wooden floor. ¡°As I told you, Madame, necromancy doesn¡¯t work that way! I can see the ghosts, but you likely can¡¯t, unless a god or spirit likes you very much.¡± She gestured to the goat, which had taken a seat and was now staring at us through the window. ¡°This is what I can do,¡± Katla said. ¡°If you are displeased, I will banish him. But I still want my money.¡±

    The green light had died down. I had managed to elbow my way back into the window, but Katla had clearly decided I was unimportant here.

    ¡°She¡¯s just complaining,¡± said the goat. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. Yelped and whined all through our marriage, now she wants to subject everyone else to it, too.¡±

    The woman next to me fainted. As I saw her knees crumple, I lunged forward to catch her, but it was too late. As we both toppled into the snow, I wheezed, feeling snow soak through the blanket.

    Katla leaned out of the window, staring down at me. ¡°Oh. I thought you were asleep.¡± It was difficult to read her tone. Was she disappointed?

    I stuck a hand out from underneath the woman¡¯s body and tried to shove her off enough to stand. She was too heavy for me to properly move myself. ¡°I thought you were redeemed.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t banish the goat,¡± she said. ¡°Not until I get paid.¡±

    ¡°My husband,¡± muttered the old woman, finally stirring. She pushed herself up, using my gut as a basis. I tried not to wheeze too loudly in pain. ¡°Tell me it isn¡¯t true.¡±

    A few moments later, bundled up and in the main room, we all stared at the goat.

    ¡°You said I should do whatever was needed,¡± said Katla. ¡°I needed to put him into a goat. Unless you don¡¯t want to speak to him at all?¡±

    ¡°Surely you should have known I didn¡¯t want a goat! I wanted to speak to my husband. I miss him. That-¡± The woman pointed a shaking finger. ¡°That is ungodly. I could not possibly share my home with such a creature.¡±

    ¡°I see what it is,¡± said the goat. ¡°Never found out where I hid it, did you?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t speak about these things in public!¡±

    ¡°As if I would tell you now,¡± said the goat. ¡°Time didn¡¯t help you much, did you? You¡¯re rotten, not pickled. I would have taken in you as a goat! Even made sure your food was nice and warm!¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s still the matter of my payment,¡± said Katla.

    ¡°I¡¯m not paying you for a bad job,¡± said the woman.

    ¡°Do you want me to banish him?¡± I said.

    ¡°And you- you can¡¯t kill him!¡±

    She stared at me as if I¡¯d suggested something horrible. I spread my hands out in defeat. ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t want the goat.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s still my husband! Ever since he was lost at sea, I¡¯ve missed him, every night wondering-¡±

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    ¡°-where I buried the money,¡± he finished for her, bleating. I watched his little tail wave helplessly. I was never going to think of goat the same way after this. ¡°You¡¯re dreaming if you think I¡¯ll tell you now!¡±

    The arguing was already getting to me. I ushered Katla to the doorway, slightly out of reach. As soon as she got close, I dropped my voice and leaned in. ¡°Surely you can¡¯t keep a ghost indefinitely,¡± I said. ¡°Why did you even agree to this?¡±

    ¡°The hardest part is them being willing,¡± she said. ¡°The initial summoning¡­ Think of it like a spark, and the continued life as a fire. The goat itself should be able to fuel him with its life force for a good two months or so. Depending on how willing it is, of course.¡± She pulled open a pocket. Something peeked out at me. A field mouse? Before I could see more, it ducked back into her pocket. ¡°I did try other animals. The goat was the only one that would take him.¡± She cleared her throat. ¡°Anyway. I was wondering if you could do me a favor.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve got a big sword. Could you get me my payment?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to help you do necromancy for pay!¡± I folded my arms. ¡°Besides, none of your explanations make sense. If you couldn¡¯t summon ghosts without the blood of gods before, why is it different now?¡±

    ¡°Surely it¡¯s worse to do necromancy for free,¡± Katla said. ¡°Besides. It wasn¡¯t real necromancy. Only a light summoning! The goat was alive! It¡¯s incredibly different pulling someone from an earned afterlife to fight- actually, never mind. You couldn¡¯t possibly understand all of the levels of difficulty.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t just possess goats and ask me to endorse you!¡±

    ¡°Well-¡°

    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± said the goat. We both looked down. He was trotting out between our legs, the woman still inside the house. ¡°I did my time in life. Now is time for new adventures.¡±

    ¡°This is what I get for using my own blood.¡± Katla grabbed the goat by the back of the collar. He reared up, his bright green eyes lighting up the snow in otherworldly light as he bleated just like a normal goat would. ¡°You¡¯ve had your fun,¡± Katla told the goat, lowering her hand. ¡°Good-¡°

    I grabbed her wrist.

    ¡°What now?¡±

    ¡°It feels wrong to kill him,¡± I said. ¡°He didn¡¯t even get to tell his wife where the money was buried, did he? Besides, she told me not to remove him.¡±

    ¡°Some time? He¡¯s had an entire conversation to convince me he deserves to live. He¡¯s not special! He was a sailor, and then he drowned. He¡¯s better off in the fields of the afterlife.¡±

    Katla raised her hand again. I glanced over my shoulder, at the old woman. It just felt horrible to kill her husband again in front of her. ¡°Can we at least go further outside and close the door properly?¡±

    I pulled the door open, wincing in another gust of cold wind. Before I could step outside, something brushed past my legs. Katla shouted as I leaned back.

    ¡°Get him! He¡¯s running!¡±

    I hitched the blanket up and took off after her. For all of her flaws, Katla was fast. As the goat galloped through town, she was close behind. I tried to follow them around a corner and my foot slipped, sending me down hard on my hip.

    Instead of getting up, I stared up at the clouds for a moment. Sunrise was just barely starting.

    ¡°I¡¯m too old for this,¡± I wheezed.

    By the time I made it up, there were two pairs of matching tracks in the snow and nothing else to see in the distance. I sighed, pulled the blanket a little tighter, and started walking. I might as well banish him.

    The tracks spun around a few buildings, then veered into the main road and down towards the cannery. I took a slow, steady path down. By the time I arrived, there was faint sunlight reflecting off of the snow and lighting up Katla¡¯s scowl.

    ¡°You haven¡¯t found him by now?¡±

    She pointed up. ¡°There. He¡¯s hiding in the cannery. Locked the door on me.¡±

    I followed her hand up. The cannery was a short, stout building with a few smokestacks, built of brick they must have taken a very long way. In one of the top windows, I could just barely see a shape moving.

    ¡°You couldn¡¯t find another door?¡±

    She jerked her head towards a snowbank. ¡°It has to be dug out.¡±

    We stood there together for a long few moments, staring up at the goat in the window. ¡°Well, I wish you luck,¡± I said. I turned to leave. ¡°Let me know if you need banishment.¡±

    ¡°Wait.¡± Her hand shot out and grabbed my elbow. ¡°I think if you lift me up onto the lower awning there¡­¡±

    I stared at Katla for a moment. Why was I still involved with this nonsense? She widened her eyes a little.

    ¡°Do you really want a ghost running amok?¡±

    I didn¡¯t know how I felt about ghosts running amok, but it was convincing enough for now. I managed to make my way over to the awning and hoist her up, watching Katla scramble over the awning and towards the window.

    As she climbed, I put my hand on my sword and turned to find the other door. It wouldn¡¯t do to have to run again. By the time I¡¯d made it to the main door, I could hear Katla yelling in annoyance.

    I leaned against the wall and waited, staring up into the sky. The clouds had dispersed a little. I could see a large bird in the distance- some sort of hawk or eagle. It was on its third loop around the sky when I heard the knob turning.

    When the door finally came open, I was facing the doorway with the sword out. It gleamed in the low afternoon light. I heard my belly growl as I lowered the Abyssal Blade towards the goat.

    ¡°Well,¡± I said. ¡°Fancy meeting you here.¡±

    ¡°Mercy!¡± he said. ¡°I beg mercy!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re already dead. What¡¯s banishment going to do, anyway?¡±

    He eyed the sword like he wasn¡¯t convinced of it. ¡°What if I could make a deal with you? I still have many skills. Many, many skills. Incredible skills.¡±

    I could hear footsteps on the stairs behind him. Katla, creeping up for the final blow. I saw her knives gleaming in the dark.

    When I didn¡¯t respond at first, he continued. It was difficult to understand the half-bleating, half speech. ¡°Sailing! I¡¯m an expert sailor. If you need to go anywhere, I can be your captain.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you die on the sea?¡±

    ¡°It would be an advisory role!¡±

    If I had been more interested in banishing him, the plea wouldn¡¯t have helped. I didn¡¯t think he would be much help as a sailor. But¡­I had been told not to banish him. I stood up and sheathed the sword. ¡°You can plead your case to the Beetles.¡±

    I would let Unnr make the final decision. Surely she had a better captain in mind.

 9. Loose Timeline

    As it turned out, Unnr wasn¡¯t even in the temple. I stared at the tall blond man (Vragi? Was that his name?) and attempted to put together a coherant question. ¡°Surely she left a note?¡±

    ¡°I think she¡¯s trying to barter for a horse,¡± Vragi said. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t wait long. She¡¯s usually chased out quickly enough.¡±

    As if that explained it, he looked back down and resumed chopping. Were those more clams?

    ¡°Give me that knife,¡± I said, as he fumbled under my scrutiny. ¡°Really.¡±

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t possibly-¡±

    Before he could finish, I¡¯d stepped in and taken another knife. ¡°You¡¯re going to cut yourself. Stop stabbing down towards your own palm.¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t stabbed myself,¡± he said.

    ¡°Yet,¡± added the goat. Vragi stumbled back and stared.

    ¡°You! A- a miracle! You¡¯ve given this goat a brilliant mind!¡± Were his hands shaking?

    I ignored both of them (the goat was saying something about being a blessing of the gods?) as I continued to steadily chop, the clams piling up in a neat stack. They had already been poached. I wondered what they were for. Another soup? Surely not. It would have been better to cook them in the broth.

    You¡¯re a rather bad paladin, you know. Not only did you ignore my vote, but you also are harboring a cursed goat.

    Andrena was leaning on the counter. I shooed her away with the tip of a knife like I might do with a cat. She left little trails of golden dust behind as she stepped back, sniffing in offense.

    Now the silent treatment? I expect you to explain yourself!

    I already said what I needed to. I sliced a clam neatly in half. Besides. Your vote did count. That¡¯s how democracy works.

    How could it have possibly been counted? Mine should count for thousands of votes. On account of my godhood.

    The more I spoke to her, the more Andrena made me think of a pouting teenager. Had she ever been told no?

    I frowned down at the cutting board. The sound of the goat in the background had dimmed; perhaps he¡¯d finally gone into the other room. Good riddance. When you spawned, were you¡­a child? Or did you appear as an adult?

    I¡¯m a god. Why would I bother with childhood?

    She made a good point. I stepped back and stared at the kitchen cabinets, finally opting for one that had been left half-open. There was a string of garlic hanging and drying, as well as a hard round of cheese. I sniffed the rind.

    It seeemed fine.

    Is there any wine in here?

    What am I, your hound? The vision of Andrena spun on her heel, then crouched and pointed at a cabinet at the very edge of the kitchen, underneath the drawer where Unnr had retrieved the tea. I sense some fermentation in there.

    Inside the cabinet were multiple bottles, most empty, but one with what looked like white wine still corked. I sniffed it, too, but it seemed fine. Not sour at all.

    Thank you, I said. In case you were wondering, that¡¯s what you say when someone does a favor for you.

    I looked back, but Andrena was gone. Instead, leaning in the doorway of the kitchen was Duran. ¡°You¡¯re cooking! Without me!¡±

    He sounded like I¡¯d just committed a murder in front of him.

    ¡°Yes.¡± I arranged my ingredients on the counter and considered them. ¡°Go check outside for some cream, will you?¡±

    ¡°You have to show me everything this time,¡± he complained, but left easily enough. I scratched at my chin. The problem was, of course, the base of the meal. Potatoes didn¡¯t quite fit. They didn¡¯t have rice or oats. There was some flour in the back of the pantry, but¡­

    ¡°You¡¯re making bread,¡± I told Duran as he came back inside.

    He stopped moving, hands still on the bottle. Good, he¡¯d found some cream. ¡°On purpose? Me?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be back when your dough is ready.¡±

    He was still standing in the doorway, staring at the jar in his hands, when I left the kitchen. Hopefully it wouldn¡¯t take him too long. I was getting hungry.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    Apis was still nowhere to be found; the goat was curled up on one of the chairs and snoring quietly. When I tried to wake him, he just bleated and rolled over.

    Horrible creatures, goats.

    <hr>

    Outside, it was a little warmer now that the sun was up. I had given up the blanket and now had a real cloak, borrowed from the rack at the entrance and stacked on top of my own. Maybe I was over-stacked with cloth, but at least I was warm.

    I had come outside with the vague hope of finding Unnr. It seemed like a large task, but now that I was out here¡­

    I stared at the pillar of smoke just down the street. Why did it always have to be fire?

    Clam Cove couldn¡¯t have more than twenty residents, but they were all outside and staring. As I approached the center of the commotion, they were packed shoulder-to-shoulder, kids on their knees and staring through the forest of legs or held up on their parents shoulders.

    Strangely, however, no one was trying to put it out.

    ¡°Excuse me,¡± I said, stomping on someone¡¯s foot. ¡°Official business. Paladining.¡±

    Before I could hear his response, I was onto the next, shouldering in between a young couple that insisted on holding hands even in this. I dodged an elderly man, too, and went past what looked like a group of fisherman.

    At the center of the crowd was a cart. Or, at least, what had been one. Now it was mostly a charcoal husk, the horses themselves nowhere to be seen.

    In front of the cart were two figures. I didn¡¯t recognize one, but the woman¡¯s figure was distinctive. I recognized those strange glasses.

    Unnr held up what looked like a small flask and uncapped it, tipping it onto the flames. They sparked higher. ¡°Oh!¡±

    Apparently the beetle didn¡¯t tell all of his priests about the interaction of alcohol and fire. ¡°Get away from that!¡±

    I reached forward to pull her away, stopping at the last minute as she darted out of my reach. In front of us, the cart crackled as a wheel detached and clattered to the ground. In proximity of the flames it was difficult to move; the heat had melted all of the ice and left a thick, sticky mud.

    ¡°I always said you were bad news,¡± said the man. He didn¡¯t want to move away from the cart either, even as I tried to pull him back. ¡°All my best perfumes! Gone!¡±

    I sniffed the air. Did it smell a little nicer, or was I just imagining things?

    ¡°Sir,¡± I said, pushing forward and grabbing his elbow. ¡°You¡¯re going to catch yourself on fire. Watch your shirtsleeve.¡±

    As I tugged him back, he stepped even closer. ¡°If you really believed, you¡¯d be diving in to help me right now.¡±

    Who was he speaking to? Unnr? I looked over at her. She shrugged helplessly.

    ¡°Come with us to the temple,¡± I tried. Better not to have whatever this fight would be in public. ¡°We can work it out there.¡±

    Why that worked, I had no idea. It wasn¡¯t as if he got any less angry. ¡°I expect full repayment,¡± he said, yanking his shirt out of my hand and stomping up the street. The crowd parted easily for him.

    I watched the space close up behind him and sighed. ¡°Unnr. Stop - no.¡± She was trying to tip her flask on the fire again. ¡°We¡¯re going to the temple.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not like I did it on purpose,¡± said Unnr. We¡¯d finally shoved our way out of the crowd, and I was enjoying the light stroll back to the temple. Even if it meant I had to ignore the large pillar of smoke in the background. ¡°How was I supposed to know that tipping over a lantern would set the whole thing aflame?¡±

    I hesitated outside of the doorway. ¡°Whose cart was that, exactly?¡±

    ¡°Oh, that was Gorm,¡± she said. ¡°He¡¯s the only one here that makes a trip up to the great cities in the winter. No one else is willing to risk the snow, but his horses¡­ they can ride through anything. Er, could ride through anything.¡±

    Great. So our one plan for going north was up in smoke.

    ¡°Glad to see you finally made it,¡± said the man himself, Gorm, when we stepped inside. He had a beard long enough to cover most of his expressions, but he¡¯d clearly made himself at home. I glanced at the bottle in his hands, then across at the goat in the other chair. Probably best not to mention it now.

    Gorm hiccoughed and swilled the remnants of the bottle. ¡°This is horrible. You drink it on purpose?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s holy wine,¡± said Unnr. ¡°Please, unhand it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not unhanding anything. Do you know how much you just cost me? The season¡¯s worth of ambergris. Up in smoke! Literally!¡±

    ¡°We can repay you in other ways. Have you ever wanted to know your future? Relive something of your past?¡±

    ¡°You can actually see the future?¡± For a moment, he looked almost impressed. I glanced into the room beyond. There was still movement; Duran must not have been completely chased off, then.

    ¡°Well,¡± admitted Unnr, ¡°No. But we can predict a few months ahead with approximately seventy-percent accuracy.¡±

    ¡°Hah! I¡¯d rather spear another whale.¡±

    He took another swig out of the bottle. Unnr visibly winced.

    ¡°Surely we can work something out,¡± she said. ¡°If we could-¡±

    ¡°Why were you going north with all of your ambergris?¡± Something wasn¡¯t adding up for me. ¡°I thought it was treacherous to travel in this weather. You¡¯d risk it on a chance of fate?¡±

    Gorm hesitated. ¡°I was taking it north to sell. Nothing more to tell. Just my luck I¡¯d lose it all like this. This always happens to me.¡±

    ¡°But why,¡± I pressed. ¡°Surely there are plenty of people in the south who would purchase high-end perfumes. You thought you could sell them all, even if you went to the cities?¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to a city,¡± he snapped.

    Unnr and I both stopped talking. She was the first to try again. ¡°You weren¡¯t going to the cities on the main road? I thought that was where you went every winter.¡±

    ¡°No! That¡¯s what I was trying to tell you before you sent all of my stock up in flames.¡±

    ¡°Where were you going?¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter now. I want to discuss how much I¡¯ll be paid for this.¡± he said.

    I shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t have any money left.¡±

    ¡°The temple operates on more of a¡­ loose timeline about money,¡± said Unnr. ¡°We haven¡¯t recieved funding for a while. But my sources tell me the Voice is considering funding us for another season any day now.¡±

    Gorm turned and pointed into the kitchen. I heard a thump. Duran must have dropped whatever he was holding. ¡°You, kid. You can pay?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have any money either!¡±

    ¡°Of all of the¡­¡± He folded his arms. ¡°That¡¯s it. I¡¯m not leaving here until you pay me back. And find my horses.¡±

    For a moment, I thought Unnr was going to lose her cool. She was on the verge of tears, eyes glimmering. Then the storm passed, and she was all smiles again. ¡°Actually,¡± she said, ¡°no need. What if I told you we could get you something better than money?¡±

    ¡°I would call you a liar. Maybe those beetles finally ate the rest of your brain.¡±

    ¡°Um,¡± said Duran. We all turned to stare. He held up a lump of pale dough. ¡°I think it might be edible this time, Madame Elysia.¡±

 10. A Working Ship

    I frowned at my food. ¡°I think this is actually good, Duran.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Shh,¡± I said. I took another bite. ¡°Don¡¯t make too much of it. It¡¯ll sense it.¡±

    ¡°I made it from my recipe book,¡± he said. ¡°I hadn¡¯t thought to follow the recipes before.¡±

    ¡°What exactly did you think it was for?¡± The balance of the garlic was excellent- not too much, and the pieces were actually small enough I couldn¡¯t feel them in the sauce. Across the room, Apis was eating enthusiastically.

    ¡°I was mostly looking at the drawings.¡±

    Before I could figure out how to respond to that (he could read, could he not?) Unnr started to speak louder. Maybe I should have been listening. She was saying something about earning revenge?

    ¡°I don¡¯t like this wild idea of yours. Sailing that way is risky. Do you even have a boat?¡± Gorm had made himself at home, spreading out over one of the chairs and propping his feet on the goat. I had taken a chair across the room and was eating one of Duran¡¯s flatbreads with some of the clams in cream garlic sauce. It was¡­

    ¡°As I already told you, the whaling ship from last season-¡±

    ¡°You mean the one that got abandoned here for being too broken to whale with? That ship?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s only a few small repairs,¡± she said. ¡°And then we¡¯ll be north in record time.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care how fast you can get north. I lost all of my stock, remember?¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± said Unnr, leaning in. Her eyes were alight with what had to be enthusiasm, barely visible behind those strange multifaceted lenses. ¡°You¡¯ll get more stock next season. You¡¯re never going to get an opportunity like this again.¡±

    ¡°I thought we were rescuing people,¡± I said. ¡°What opportunity is it, exactly?¡±

    I shouldn¡¯t have asked. It only invited Unnr to reveal another, even more detailed map. She shoved it onto the floor and rolled it out with great enthusiasm.

    ¡°You see before you the Crags,¡± she said. It looked a little bit like a pastry. I stared at the wobbly parts around the edges and took another bite of the flatbread. Unnr poked at a small spot on the coast.

    ¡°The cursed isthmus,¡± she said. ¡°This is where they take deliveries sent to the Crags.¡± Her hand slid past the small connection between two inlets and up towards what seemed to be a mountain. ¡°The Crags itself. Only serviced by Skeleton Harbor.¡±

    ¡°They make it sound so welcoming,¡± I muttered.

    Unnr continued, ignoring me, ¡°What¡¯s important is that the remoteness of the Crags means the military doesn¡¯t just use it for their foolish academy and stealing innocent Imagos. They also sponsor a small military group. Including a certain captain I recall you saying stole your best ship.¡±

    "Who told you that?" Gorm shifted, then scratched at his chin. "Even if I did once lose a ship to a two-timing, shameless, snobby fool... well, those days are past me now. I''m just a merchant."

    ¡°I have my sources.¡±

    She jabbed her finger violently on the map again. ¡°I¡¯ve heard it¡¯s a comfortable position. Lots of priorities, good food, sun at least a quarter of the time. Are you really going to let Captain Egill live out the rest of his life in peace?¡±

    This island was getting less appealing by the moment. I hadn''t signed up for some mariner''s revenge story. They were both so involved, however, that I decided to take the brave way out and eat more of Duran''s flatbread instead. It really was quite tasty.

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    "Doesn''t matter to me. I told you, I''m a changed man now. I just want my money.¡± I couldn¡¯t tell how Gorm really felt. He still looked angry, hand in a tight ball, eyebrows drawn tight- but that might have just been Unnr¡¯s influence.

    ¡°It won''t be that hard,¡± Unnr said. Were priestesses of the Beetle allowed to lie this blatantly? "We''ll just sweep in, steal his prisoners out from under his nose, and then leave. He''ll hate it. It''ll be the perfect revenge!"

    ¡°Let¡¯s say I believe you, and this might hurt Egill,¡± said Gorm. ¡°You still didn¡¯t really answer my question. Let¡¯s say we get all the way north and we land on the Crags. You said it yourself. It¡¯s an ultra-secure military academy. How are we getting in?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± said Unnr. ¡°I¡¯ve figured it all out.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why this plan includes us retrieving the ship,¡± I said, clambering over yet another rock. We¡¯d waited until the next morning, when the sun would be high and the tides would be low, but I still felt clumsy.

    ¡°Perhaps she thinks being a paladin will protect you,¡± said Apis. He slipped forward as he finished, forcing me to steady him.

    The beach of Clam Cove was treacherous as always, scattered with rocks and tidepools frozen over by the chill of the night as the ocean gently lapped at the shore. I squinted into the distance. The cove itself was sheltered by a pair of bluffs, one on either side. We¡¯d been sent to the northern bluff with instructions to ¡°sail the ship back¡±.

    ¡°I mean, really,¡± I continued, stepping over a large boulder and trying to avoid the patch of ice next to it. ¡°We can¡¯t even sail!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why you have me.¡±

    We both glanced back at the goat. I tried not to look too disbelieving, but I clearly failed.

    ¡°Years of my life, sailing! I spent all of my life perfecting my technique. If anyone can get you out of here, it¡¯ll be me.¡± When I continued to stare at him, he bleated a little before continuing. ¡°Well. That and the fact I asked Unnr about the ship. It¡¯s actually not too badly broken, they just tucked it away before the weather would hurt it worse. There aren''t any shipbuilders in this town.¡±

    At least the walk was somewhat nice, the sun out and the air brisk. I wondered what this place was like in summer. Did it actually fill up with people from the cannery? Surely not. Even canners had better places to go, didn¡¯t they?

    As we walked, Apis sidled up next to me, giving the goat an odd look. ¡°You¡¯re still sure on not banishing him?¡±

    I shook my head. ¡°Why? I didn¡¯t think you had a problem with each other.¡±

    I¡¯d barely even seen them interact. Why would Apis, of all people, be angry about it now? ¡°It just seems cruel, to force a man to be in a goat¡¯s body,¡± he muttered. ¡°He wasn¡¯t even brought back because of a promise. Katla just¡­ stole him from his afterlife.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry!¡± bleated the goat. We both started in surprise. I hadn¡¯t realized he was in hearing distance. ¡°Ever been a goat? Surprisingly entertaining. I can eat so many things I could never try before!¡±

    ¡°At least introduce yourself,¡± said Apis. ¡°I can¡¯t keep calling you goat. My name is Apis.¡±

    ¡°You can call me Harald. Nice to meet you, bee-boy.¡± Apis didn''t look pleased with the nickname, but he turned and kept walking. I tried not to look too amused.

    Just beyond the edge of the bluff, after a terrifying hop from boulder to boulder, was our prize. Tucked into a deeper channel as a river came from the bluff, I could see how it was somewhat protected, sheltered by a set of massive rocks from the biggest breakers. I didn¡¯t see any holes in the hull, at least.

    Still, there was one problem. It was beached.

    Apis waded across and climbed precariously up the tilted edge of the ship, finally throwing down a rope to me. I took my sweet time climbing up, staring at the hull. It seemed overall fine, save for a few scratches.

    ¡°You really think you can get a new mast?¡± He called down, looking over the edge at where Harald must be waiting.

    ¡°Bring me up! I¡¯ll investigate!¡±

    Only half of the mast remained on the ship, its end cracking out into splinters in the sunlight. I glanced around for the other part, but couldn¡¯t see it. It must have gone out with the tides.

    Harald clamped onto the end of the rope with his teeth, swinging out into thin air as Apis and I both pulled him up. When he finally clambered onto the deck, he trotted over to the mast with the air of a seasoned professional. "The mast! I didn¡¯t know that was why this ship was beached.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re worried?¡±

    He bleated. ¡°No! It¡¯s great news!¡± When neither of us reacted, he continued, ¡°We can sail her at half-mast to get north again, where there are real shipyards. I can''t believe they would have left behind a fine ship like this! All these sailors today, so soft.¡±

    I decided not to mention his own track record with sailing. ¡°Isn¡¯t that slow?¡±

    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s not a problem,¡± Apis said. ¡°Slower might be safer?¡±

    "It should only take five or six days to sail north," said Harald. He curled up under the mast, chewing on something. "Not so bad at all, in this weather. Maybe a full week if we get hit by a storm."

    I clapped my hands together. ¡°Right, so we''re agreed. Harald, work your magic. Get us off of this sandbar.¡±

    Harald just bleated again and sat down, legs underneath him as he chewed at something. ¡°Hah! As if. We have to wait for the tide.¡±

    ¡°What? That¡¯s hours from now.¡±

    If a goat could shrug, that was what he¡¯d just done. ¡°What did you expect me to do? Push it out?¡±

    I wanted to argue, but he made a good point. For a moment I hesitated, but eventually I sat down on the tilted deck of the ship, staring at the horizon. The waves crashed. A bird called. ¡°I should have brought the cheese."

 11. Small Gifts

    The field of gods was always strangely empty, I decided. Where did all of the souls go? Were they just hiding until I was free of this massive field, trying not to sneeze in all of the blooming flowers?

    Andrena, are you eating them?

    I paused, halfway to the hall of the gods. Wait. I didn¡¯t have to walk to her. If I could only convince her to show up-

    ¡°Andrena,¡± I shouted. ¡°I¡¯m going to leave if you don¡¯t come out of there. I have other dreams to be enjoying.¡±

    You¡¯re lying. This time, she was wading out to meet me, down the steps in a moment. The roll of her gait was almost human, and the annoyance on her face certainly was. I¡¯ve seen your dreams. They¡¯re all about drowning. Not very original, are you?

    ¡°We¡¯re sailing in dangerous waters.¡± I folded my arms. ¡°What exactly am I meant to be worried about? Bees?¡± Three days. It had taken us three days to finally push out of Clam Cove, everyone huddled into this horrible boat after Unnr had chased down what felt like endless people to get a sail and enough provisions to take us north. I thought I could feel it sloshing me around even in my sleep. We still had two days to go.

    I didn''t care how it happened, but I wasn''t going south in a boat. If I had to, I''d tie myself to a bird and fly there.

    It would be nice for you to dream about bees for a change, said Andrena. But enough of this foolishness. I must discuss with you this plan of yours.

    ¡°Not my plan,¡± I corrected. ¡°Unnr¡¯s plan. We¡¯re just¡­ going along with it.¡±

    I do not like the way you say ¡®we¡¯. I am still against this. You truly think you can sneak onto that island without anyone noticing?

    Had the entire field pitched, or was that the ship underneath my sleeping body? I swallowed a hint of nausea. ¡°It¡¯s the best plan we have. I still don¡¯t think it¡¯s a good idea to just stomp around the north waiting for a better opportunity to show up.¡±

    Andrena pursed her lips. Before I could continue, something had been shoved into my hands. A¡­ drink?

    ¡°What do you want me to do now?¡± I recognized a bribe when I saw one. I still took a drink. It was very nice. Bubbly, somehow, even though it didn¡¯t taste alcoholic.

    I have secured help for you, she said. You should leave this plan with the beetles and go to shore, where you can wait for the rest of your team.

    ¡°Who exactly did you summon?¡± I squinted over the rim of the glass. ¡°If it¡¯s the voice of Teuthida, I don¡¯t want her.¡±

    I¡¯d endured enough of that woman for the rest of my days. Andrena just waved off my complaint. No, no. I contacted someone actually helpful. Follow me. It''s easier to show you.

    I supposed I didn¡¯t have a shortage of time. I turned and followed her, past the unchanging temple and towards a divot in the field. When Andrena approached, she knelt. I leaned down next to her, feeling self-conscious.

    Here, she said, pointing towards the water. I cannot conjure much. But her face is familiar to you, is it not?

    I stared at the reflection with impending dread. As I looked down, it quickly swirled, the water rippling and revealing a very familiar face indeed. A stout girl, with bright red hair. This time, she was huddled on the deck of a ship, annoyed and surrounded by what looked like... armor?

    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    Who was arming teenage girls? Hadn''t they ever met one before? ¡°The voice of Celeres? Isn¡¯t she a teenager?¡±

    You never appreciate my gifts, snapped Andrena. Before I could respond, my eyes snapped open. The ship lurched.

    I closed my eyes and tried to steady my gut. It wasn¡¯t helping. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have had that drink.¡±

    There was a shuffling on the bunk above me. After a few minutes, Katla peered down. ¡°If you¡¯re ill, as I requested when we decided to share this bunk, please-¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll leave the room,¡± I muttered. ¡°Please stop talking.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Well, we¡¯re through Cabellus¡¯s knuckles now,¡± said Gorm, the next afternoon. He leaned on the wheel, fumbling for his pipe. After watching him struggle for what felt like a year, I finally lit it for him. ¡°After this it¡¯s only the rock of death, the rock of more death, and the rock of I can¡¯t believe you¡¯re still alive. We¡¯ll take a left at the Bay of Night, and-¡±

    ¡°No more,¡± I groaned. I was still feeling ill from the previous night¡¯s dream, and it didn¡¯t help thinking about the scenery. Just past us, the shore drifted by. Trees. Endless trees, broken up occasionally by snowy mountaintops and a hint of movement. I had yet to see any further human settlement. How could people survive up here? Didn''t they like warmth? Sun?

    At least it was a little calmer than it had been on the way up. Perhaps it was because we were closer to shore this time; if the water had been warm, I might have been able to swim over. As it was, I preferred to stay on the ship.

    ¡°You have to tell me the truth,¡± I said, leaning towards Gorm when the worst of the nausea had passed. ¡°Is-¡±

    ¡°Is the ship going to make it? Sure, don¡¯t see why she won¡¯t. Although we still have two days left.¡± He squinted at me. ¡°You think you¡¯ll make it that long?¡±

    I held up a hand to stop him. ¡°Not about that. Is Harald actually helping?¡±

    We both turned to face the goat. He was, as usual, sleeping on deck. I didn¡¯t know how he managed. Maybe it was another skill from the goat. ¡°Of course he is!¡± Gorm tapped his pipe out, chuckling. ¡°We sailed together for many years, before we both stopped being part of, ah, private establishments, and went our separate ways. I became a perfumer, and he, ah¡­.¡± He coughed. ¡°Well, before he died, he was fishing for the Big Ones.¡±

    ¡°¡­Beasts?¡±

    ¡°Tuna.¡± He took another drag on his pipe. ¡°Good to see him again, really. Although I wish he¡¯d explain why he¡¯s a goat now.¡±

    As another swell danced under our feet, I tried to focus on a point in the horizon. Apis said it helped.

    It didn¡¯t.

    ¡°You were part of private companies?¡± I¡¯d heard that terminology before. ¡°So you were- pirating?¡±

    ¡°Not technically pirating.¡±

    Definitely the same terminology. ¡°Have you ever met a man named-¡± I stumbled, then tried to take a deep breath. I had to focus. To stay steady. What kind of paladin was I if I was easily defeated by the sea? ¡°I¡¯m going back under,¡± I muttered.

    Belowdecks, Apis, Duran and Katla were engaged in a game of cards. I leaned in the doorway and tried to figure out who was winning. I couldn¡¯t see any money on the table.

    ¡°Double pair, spear gets top score,¡± said Apis. He held out a hand. Katla swore under her breath, rummaged in her cloak, and gave him what looked like a piece of jerky.

    ¡°Don¡¯t enjoy it all at once. I¡¯ll be winning it back shortly.¡± She straightened her cloak and sat back. ¡°Duran, your deal.¡±

    ¡°How many cards in a hand again?¡± Duran fumbled through the shuffle, dropping the cards once before he managed to gather them up.

    I watched Apis win two more rounds and get accused of cheating once before the ship rolled under my feet again and I decided I had to lie down. I had yet to decide what was actually best for the seasickness, but I couldn''t stay here trying to pay attention.

    ¡°You¡¯re sure you don¡¯t want any food?¡± offered Apis as I turned to leave.

    ¡°Can¡¯t bear the thought. I¡¯ll eat something else later.¡±

    As I stumbled down the hallway, I heard another cry of annoyance from Katla. "I''ll find out how you''re doing it somehow, bee man. And then you''ll regret the day you ever cheated me."

    "Another round, then?" said Duran. "I think I understand how the numbers work now."

    Staring up at the bottom of Katla¡¯s bunk again, I closed my eyes and drifted into a half-sleep. Hours or minutes could have passed, as far as I cared. It was all just part of the sea. I was still mostly asleep when I heard someone step into the cabin. There was a quiet tap, like something had been set on the side table.

    I only checked what had been left when the door had been firmly closed behind the intruder with a click. A small pouch I thought looked familiar was sitting there, half-closed with a ribbon. Inside were four pieces of jerky, the pepper thick and the meat tough.

 12. Golden Thread

    I was woken by someone trying to drag me out of my bunk. ¡°Shhh,¡± I muttered, eyes bleary and still half-asleep. The ship was rocking violently. I didn¡¯t want to do anything except stay still and try not to feel ill.

    The yanking got stronger. I opened one eye.

    Harald had my sleeve clenched in his teeth, and was dragging me towards him. Since he only had the body mass of a skinny goat, this wasn¡¯t doing much. I sat up in shock, hitting my head on the top of the bunk and yanking my sleeve out of his mouth. It was damp. I wrinkled my nose.

    ¡°What¡¯s your problem? I¡¯m trying to sleep here.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re too close to shore. Can you swim?¡±

    ¡°Not in that water! It¡¯s basically frozen already.¡±

    The panic was starting to rise now. The ship floated higher and higher, bobbing; then we tipped off of the top of the wave and the entire ship shook with the impact. I could feel it in my bones.

    ¡°You really think we¡¯re going to wreck,¡± I said, but it was to an empty room. Harald had run off. The rocking of the ship was so strong that even the bunk was rattling. I saw a coin roll across the floor one way, then the other, glinting in the low light of the candle someone must have brought in here. Then I had to lurch forward and grab the candle itself, as it tried to tip over with the most recent wave.

    There was no time to decide what to save. I grabbed my bag, shoved the jerky in my pocket, and slung my cloak over my shoulders before I began to stumble up to the deck.

    The sun had just barely begun to come over the horizon, but I couldn¡¯t make out much. It was obscured by a fat cloud that swirled overhead, as if the wind even up there was high. I felt my knees tremble and grabbed for the mast. The sails were tied down. Yet the ship still tumbled towards the shore, a dark mass of rocks and what I thought were a few lights in houses beyond.

    ¡°How did we get so close?¡± I shouted over the wind. It was howling, bringing small drops of water up from the sea and splattering my cheeks. I couldn¡¯t feel my lips or fingers.

    The goat was scrambling over the deck, hooves slipping in the water. Apis lurched up from belowdecks as I stared, my question unanswered. He was wrapped in a blanket and dragging a half-awake Duran behind him.

    ¡°Ask Andrena for help,¡± he shouted.

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t do oceans!¡±

    I grabbed for the mast as the ship tipped, a wave crashing over the bow and soaking everyone from the knees up. My candle had blown out. I threw it aside. I had bigger problems.

    Andrena, I thought, my knees weak from fear. I know this isn¡¯t typically your thing, but¡­

    There was no response. Of course there wasn¡¯t. Teuthida, I tried, You aren¡¯t my patron, but I did you a rather large favor. You couldn¡¯t help us out a bit?

    As if nature itself was mocking me, the next wave was even larger. It caught our ship up and for a moment we were higher above the sea than I had ever thought possible, the ship caught on the edge of the wave as we all tumbled towards the shore. I had a brief sight of a rocky beach and some mountains, all covered with snow, before the ship crashed down and I slipped off of the deck. There was overwhelming cold, my eyes stinging. Then there was nothing.

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    <hr>

    I am never letting you near the water again.

    I opened my eyes. I was shivering, even in my sleep. My eyes were crusted with what felt like a year¡¯s worth of salt. Above me there was nothing but gray sky, clouds still swirling. Water was lapping up and freezing my arm. I still couldn¡¯t feel my fingers.

    I turned my head, slightly. There. Hunched over me, hands around her knees like a child, was Andrena. She seemed more solid than usual.

    If this is death, I want a different option, I told her. I liked the field.

    You aren¡¯t dead yet, you fool! But you will be if you don¡¯t get up and start walking. I can already feel your heart slowing.

    Andrena was in my heart? I wrinkled my nose, or at least I thought I did. I couldn¡¯t really feel that either. I told you this was a bad idea. If we¡¯d gone south, I would feel all of my limbs.

    You have to stand, Elysia! You¡¯re going to freeze to death if you don¡¯t move!

    She wasn¡¯t even responding to my childish insults. She must actually be worried. I closed my eyes. I just need a few more minutes of sleep. I didn¡¯t know why I was so tired. I had spent all of my time on the ship sleeping, or at least as much as I could manage. But it felt like my limbs were tied to lead weights, my eyelids drooping no matter what I did.

    My hand slipped over my hip, landing on the cold gem of the sword. Of course. Even when I was shipwrecked, the Abyssal Blade managed to follow me.

    I let my muscles relax, my eyes clenched closed. Even the lapping sound of the waves was restful now. Only a little nap, and then I would do what Andrena wanted. Hadn¡¯t I earned a break?

    Heat shot up from the center of the blade. My eyes snapped open, but I wasn¡¯t the one moving them.

    Wait a minute-

    I have to do everything myself, seethed Andrena. She cracked my neck, then shook out my hands as she forced my body to stand. She had shoved my mind into a tiny little box, and I was forced to stare as she stumbled across the beach. There was a faint light in the distance, getting brighter all the time.

    I did not give you permission to take over my body! I snapped at her. Since when can you just invade?

    You gave me permission once, she said. We have a bond now.

    For a moment, floating in my own gray matter, I thought I could see it. A shimmering golden thread drifting from my chest, pulled down towards the center of the world, the home of the gods. Then Andrena lurched forward, ramming my shoulder into the door of a small hut, and the vision dissolved, replaced by a dull pain.

    No one responded to the imprompteu knock. She shoved my shoulder at the door again. On the third attempt, the door swung open. Behind it was a man in his thirties, maybe, with shaggy hair and a densly cabled knit sweater.

    He said something questioning in the northern dialect. It sounded like several consonants having a fistfight.

    Andrena dissolved out of my body all at once. I was left to try and keep myself standing as he pulled me inside, shoving me onto a straw mattress. There were several other figures, lumps under the blankets. I couldn¡¯t make out details.

    The man was still talking, a comforting, low drone that sounded a little like he was yelling at me. I leaned into the nearest lump of blankets and shook at what looked like a shoulder. The person didn¡¯t respond. I reached forward and yanked the blanket away, just a little. Below it were Apis and the goat, the goat snoring ever so slightly. Next to them was a figure that looked like Katla.

    Where¡¯s Duran? I tried to stand, but with another flash of heat I felt Andrena drag me down. She didn¡¯t even bother to say anything this time.

    I¡¯ve warmed up, I insisted. Let me go check for him! He¡¯s just a child!

    Sleep.

    I could almost feel my fingers again.I stared at the shimmering cable of gold, my hand on the sword. Had it always been there? Just because you saved my life doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re allowed to do that again. Surely Duran deserves a rescue.

    Andrena didn¡¯t respond. I curled my legs up, yanking off my frozen boots (How had they even stayed on this long?) and pulled another blanket over me. I would escape and look for Duran any moment now. It wouldn¡¯t take that long before Andrena released me, would it? The man asked a question in the northern dialect, this one sounding more pointed.

    I yawned. Without my permission, my eyes drifted shut.