Food rations were not dispensed the following day. It would have easily been attributable to the bombing, but for the fact that water rations—meager though they were—were doled out dutifully by hungry-looking diamonds. Even the spades looked hungry, monitoring the lines and dispensing punitive measures upon those who got out of line or complained too obviously. Despite this disparity, there was some grumbling about the Crafton Resistance.

  There was, of course, a crackdown. The city was placed under martial law, as though any other kind of law had been in evidence before. It was entirely impossible for Daisy to send out Corrie or Irons to dispense conjured water—there was a soldier at every street corner, it seemed. Awards were offered to people who reported their fellow citizens, or even non-citizens. Before, in Crafton, the easiest way to attain citizenship had been enlistment in the army, where you would be issued a spade dagger and given the rank of an ace of spades. Now, you could get a red caste of three or four, provided you turned in a cell. Of course, running everything through Ruler’s light sorcery meant this wasn’t possible. A few individuals evidently had reported how the Resistance was coordinated, but as long as no spade was present when Ruler worked his sorcery, there was no proving anything.

  Even Ruler’s psi could pick up the atmosphere of the city. Everyone was ill at ease. The soldiers were accustomed to a higher standard of living than the citizenry, or at least higher priority during periodic droughts, or bad harvests in South Helland. Eventually, the rumors trickled down to spades who had joined the Resistance; the ration ship had arrived only to report that there was no food to deliver. Also, far, far too late, that Daisy, Ruler, and Irons were wanted criminals. A second round of announcements went out declaring them enemies of the state and offered even more status in exchange for information leading to their capture.

  The results were not immediate, but they were widespread. Without food, the workers went on strike. It was the traditional result of a failure to pay even subsistence wages. Throughout the city, diamonds and native Craftons reported that sit-ins had been staged spontaneously, and that in many cases, when a superior ordered the rebels killed, the soldiers had thrown down their weapons. This had been particularly common with spades overseeing the diamond workers, for in some cases aces and deuces were being ordered to kill threes and fours; it was an abomination against the natural order of things as they had been taught.

  That’s not to say there wasn’t death. Non-citizens being below even an ace; spades overseeing them were more willing to apply violence. But without rifles or revolvers, and with the citizenry carrying hand knives, more than one squad of soldiers had died for the error of punishing a hungry and angry mob. It had never been more evident that every society was only three missed meals away from chaos. More, Daisy thought wryly, when it was a hateful and unjust caste-based autocracy.

  As this went on, Ruler continued checking in with Resistance members, in case there was more to be heard. At first, it was a lot of nothing, until one of them reported that they had a person claiming to be a Tanith—citizen of The Armed Nation—diplomat, looking to communicate with the organizer who had put the Rotted in such a tizzy. Ruler had looked at Daisy, who asked him to clarify who the “Rotted” were. Evidently, the Ranks of the Damned were derogatorily referred to as the Rot’D by Tanites, because their hearts and souls were rotten. While Daisy was inclined to dispute this characterization of nations of good people oppressed and lied to, she was not prepared to dismiss potential allies out of hand.

  The diplomat was, in fact, a priestess of the Wholist Church of Tanith. Her name was Clarity of Sight, and she was specifically chosen as a former member of the Rotted. So far as they knew, she was dead, and she could credibly claim to have shown up for a work assignment and not been counted. The mountain ranges that separated Tanith and West Crafton were built up with fortresses, but also with outlook posts. The blast had been blinding, and then Clarity was sent down to contact someone known to have Tanite sympathies. Tanith was prepared to offer food aid, from their own farms, provided the military could be neutralized and Crafton—she was very quick to take up the old name of West Helland—inducted into a fledgling Union of States in opposition to The Kingdom of Hell.

  They were very conscious of time, and arranged for a discussion later that day. Ruler still needed to check in with the rest of the revolutionaries, if for no other reason than morale. Though there was another reason, albeit conceived too late to implement throughout the Resistance. Clarity would likely want to meet, and plans could be laid for the eventuality that this was a trap.

  Communication was slow, Clarity having to write out responses for Ruler to scry upon, and then Ruler having to project light in the precise formations that made words. Clarity asked for a meeting face to face, but acknowledged the risk involved and did not press when Daisy demurred. They talked slowly, as to how many people Tanith could support, what kind of military aid they could offer, and how exactly they needed the military to be neutralized. What sold Daisy was the point at which Clarity indicated that, deprived of their rifles, she would contentedly report back to her superiors and let the Tanith military handle the rest without Daisy’s involvement. Clarity agreed to be scried upon, so that she could walk down the street and, provided she came alone, be ushered into Corrie’s home by those watching out the windows.

  She was short, wearing a dark cloak which had evidently kept her unnoticed in the night by the fatigued and hungry guards, and round. She introduced herself again, as a Mother Superior of the Ex-Ro spy corps. They had been waiting for some time for an opportunity to abandon a defensive posture and loose Helland’s grasp on Crafton. After a round of introductions, Daisy asked Clarity what she expected from them, after which she would state what the people of Crafton needed from her. “I will not aid in replacing one evil theocratic regime with another.”

  Clarity replied forthrightly. Tanith was interested in forming an association of states, in opposition and ultimately subsuming Helland. Each state would have equal voice in what she termed a congress of states. Helland proper, the three cities of Honeystone, Oracle City, and Watergate, would bear a debt in reaction to their oppression of the nations of West and South Helland—Crafton and South Helland, she amended herself. All she—on behalf of Tanith—wanted was the position of First Bishop acknowledged in their bishop, and military command until such time as Helland itself was absorbed into the state association.

  At the mention of bishops, Daisy asked if she might cast a spell to divine Clarity’s intentions. The Mother Superior assented, and Daisy summoned a sphere of water and centered her focus on the woman’s heart, the place from which evil—or good—thoughts came forth. A gentle glow, comparable to Daisy’s own soul, lit the sphere from within. Clarity’s eyes grew wide, and she asked if she might touch the sphere. Daisy held it out to her, and Clarity poked the orb of water with her fingers, then lapped at her fingers. “It is water? Not eka-alumina? How do you do such sorcery?”

  Daisy launched into an explanation of the ten spheres, realized she was over-elaborating, backtracked, and explained the four spheres that were the foundation of reality. Clarity listened attentively, nodding now and then, and of her own initiative asked about the assignation of Virtues to the elements. Daisy, in her usual fashion, got excited and after reciting which Virtues bore which elements, started talking about the elemental affinity of the One God. That was, as it turned out, one point in which their theologies agreed, inasmuch as they had two groups vehemently disagreeing on whether the One God was aligned with fire or was above such things.

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  “I have heard you refer to the Wholists of Helland as Infernalists,” Clarity began. “What do you refer to the Wholist Church as?” Daisy looked at Ruler to confirm the translation, and then replied that they used the same term. “You are Wholists, then, as opposed to Infernalists?”

  Daisy shook her head. “I am one of the Unchained, while Ruler here is a Clockmaker.”

  “I know the words you use, but I hear the emphasis assigned to proper nouns. Please, say more.”

  “Where to begin? Uhm. Ruler?” Ruler shook his head. “We belong to the overarching Witnessate faith, which is any derivation of Wholism which rejects the primacy of the First Bishop—”

  “That could be a sticking point. It is rather important to Tanith that our bishop be acknowledged as First Bishop.”

  “I mean, I don’t think the Marzians—Corrie, come, join the conversation! You’ve done plenty for the movement and it’s your people. Irons, you too!”

  Corrie sat near Clarity. “I don’t think the people of Crafton would have any issue accepting a Tanith First Bishop. I’d believe you might even have to supply us with priests of your own, because the moment the scales tip, we will depose the priesthood supplied by the Kingdom of Hell.”

  “I can speak for the people of Helland proper,” Irons said. “Not literally, but I know the sentiments. At first, you will get a lot of pushback. People will be afraid of condemning themselves to an even worse reality than the one they live in. We are good people, and we sincerely wish to avoid further damning ourselves by heresy. But ultimately, when your teachings are the same and you provide food and water, I can’t imagine anyone will care. But then, South Helland is supposed to be supplying food for the entire nation, so I don’t know what’s going on there.”

  “We’ll send one of the few non-nation ‘Liders to fly down there and see what is going on.” Clarity turned to Daisy and Ruler. “And you don’t care?” They shook their heads. Why should they care? It’s like asking a cat person their favorite dog breed. “But I’m sorry, you were telling me about your faith and I do sincerely want to know there’s more out there than Helland. Even if what you say sounds a bit heretical, it is a vast improvement over… Infernalism.”

  “The Order of the Broken Chain and the Clockmakers are known as Witness faiths. They do not acknowledge any particular bishop as superior to another, and believe in a direct relationship with the One God over one where priests and saints intercede. That is, as you might imagine, a very general definition for a very broad spectrum of faiths. There are Witnessate faiths that my faith, the Unchained, would consider heretical, despite the seeming similarity of our beliefs. For instance, on Jupitre—”

  “I’m sorry, Jupitre?”

  “The next planet out from the orb of Heaven?”

  “Ah. We had a different name. Please, continue.”

  “There are the Named, who after their baptism—that’s a christening with water, I don’t know what Marzians do in its place given the scarcity of water—take on new names and attest that they are forever free from sin and are in fact incapable of sin. That all they do is virtuous because they are forever filled with the Holy Spirit.”

  “And your own faith?”

  “As I said, it appears similar at first glance. We believe that the sacrifice of Christ Savior freed us from the shackles of sin. We believe that without the Holy Spirit we cannot overcome sin, but we do not go so far in our faith as to believe ourselves incapable of sin. We still err, being human, and pray directly to the One God for His forgiveness, paid for by the perfect sacrifice of His beloved Son. But without His Son we would still be prisoners to sin. In a nutshell, anyway. Do you have nuts here? Marz is a horribly dispiriting journey onto another planet. I’d give up entirely on exploring the universe if it weren’t for Ruler here, who’s from Orth, on the other side of your planet.”

  Ruler, then, cut in. “Speaking of m-me, and not to deprive D-D-Daisy of her favorite subject, but we need to discuss what w-we need from Tanith for a neat handover of Crafton.”

  Clarity nodded. Daisy turned to Corrie. “You’re the native, what do you need for your people, Corrie?”

  Corrie’s eyes got wide, and she seemed to have contracted Ruler’s stutter for a moment when she spoke up. “Food. First off. And as soon as a shipment is missed, we’ll be denied water. We have some distillation equipment, but it’s all spade-guarded, so that will need to be liberated or… or something.”

  Clarity nodded. “That much we figured on. We have an assortment of squashes we grow with the aid of our water dragon that are both nutritious and full of water. It’s easier than transporting water by itself.” Daisy winced. “Don’t think I missed that, but I’ll negotiate with Corrie here first.”

  “We’ll need protection from the spades, both local and whatever Helland can muster. They seem sick of Helland as much as we are, but you never know. And I’d hate to see even one person die in the name of Helland’s greed.”

  “Provided Tanith runs those troops, we don’t mind. Aside from farmers, even our craftswomen are part of a standing army, serving a few months out of the year. We have troops. It’s part of why we’re not ‘East Helland’ by now, we’re too spicy a meatball.”

  Daisy drawled, “Your meatballs are camel, aren’t they.”

  “Or tortoise, why?”

  Daisy sighed. “Oh, no reason. Please, go on.”

  Corrie went on. “And you said we would have equal representation in a congress, but how do we determine who represents us in the congress? We can’t rely upon the caste system, it’s one of those things that has got to go. Which I suppose counts as another thing we need from Tanith, we need the removal of all caste marks.”

  “This list is getting long, but we knew this wouldn’t be a simple project. Is there anything else you’ll need?”

  Corrie looked to Daisy for direction, and when Daisy shrugged, Corrie shook her head. “I think that’s all, Mother. Or do I call you Clarity?”

  “My spies call me Mother Clarity or Mother Superior, but you’re not under me in a military hierarchy, so Clarity is fine. Daisy, why did you wince at the mention of a water dragon? Does your cohort serve a particularly closed-minded—you know, it should have been a big hint that dragons came in a water element, but we didn’t practice water sorcery.”

  Daisy waved a dismissive hand. “It’s not as though humanity spent an entire Age post-Loss thinking there were only four elements and not ten. Who knows what we’ll learn next?”

  “True, but it’s troubling that our patron dragon didn’t tell us we could use sorcery to work the same magic that he did for us.”

  Ruler chimed in. “That is the—our-r objection to Wholism, actually. It was implemented by dragons as a way to stabilize and channel the One God’s message.”

  Clarity appeared to ponder this for a few moments and then replied evenly, “I can believe that, and I will definitely be raising questions with my superiors. But the dragon has done us a lot of good, and one should avoid throwing out the baby with the bath water. As your sorcery showed you, Daisy, there are good people of honest faith who are Wholist, and even Infernalist.”

  Daisy nodded in acknowledgement. They talked a while longer, and then Clarity slipped away into the lifting dark. The invasion would hopefully be bloodless, and began at dusk.