Ana barely managed to speak her question, and the prisoner had no chance to answer, before they were interrupted.

  While Marra was content with a blurted “What?” the captain’s reaction was more violent. Even as Ana was asking Saareng who the Sentinel was, Pirta growled, “She’s lying!” A long arm shot past Ana, slender fingers wrapping around Saareng’s throat with a grip so strong that the Binder’s eyes bulged. “Don’t you dare!” the captain said. “Don’t you dare insinuate that the Lord of Order is involved in this, you filthy—”

  “Captain. Captain!” Ana put her hand on Pirta’s arm, and when that garnered no reaction she instead gripped the elf’s thumb and bent it like so, and the grip around the prisoner’s throat loosened and released as Pirta stumbled one step sideways, snatching her hand away.

  “Captain!” Ana repeated herself, meeting Pirta’s look of fury and betrayal with confident calm. “The Wayfarer herself confirms it. Whoever this Sentinel is, they’ve been our enemy from the beginning.”

  “No,” Pirta said, but she couldn’t match Ana’s conviction. Instead she turned back toward the coughing prisoner. “Why? Why would the Sentinel do this? It makes no sense! Why the Bluesky Guild? Why this Splinter? The idea is ludicrous!”

  “Answer her,” Ana said, when no answer was forthcoming. “We’re not done here.”

  “The Splinters—” Saareng hacked. There were angry, red bruises forming on her throat already. “The Splinters are disorder made manifest! Draining the vital energies of the planes, allowing demons to take flesh and grow stronger—” Her impassioned speech devolved into another fit of coughing. “They must be destroyed, for the good of all creation! As for why here? I was not part of that decision, but I can tell you why: because your guild is weak!”

  “Now, that can’t be right,” Marra said, her controlled voice contrasting with the Captain’s outraged noises. “If what Ana says is true… I don’t know how you deceived the Wayfarer, but the Sentinel would never condone attacking someone because they’re weak.”

  “He would!” their prisoner insisted. She still had a glimmer of hope in her eyes, as though being associated with this “Sentinel” would save her. Never mind that every time she mentioned him Pirta got angrier, and Marra’s voice, no matter how even it was, was harder than Ana had ever heard it. “It had to be a new Splinter, and a small guild! Can you not see? If the Bluesky Guild is destabilized by losing a Splinter, even should the guild collapse the repercussions will be small. Nothing compared to even a wave of discontent in the Enduring Valor Guild, or the Verdant Growth Guild, who also have young Splinters. It wasn’t personal.”

  “Leave it to a Death-mage to think that makes any difference,” Pirta spat.

  “There is no one in the guild that you’re targeting?” Ana asked, ignoring the captain’s comment. “No ideological differences?”

  “Not that I know. You’re a safe target. That’s all.”

  Ana waited for either Pirta or Marra to speak, but neither did. When there were no more questions forthcoming, Ana said, “Alright, Saareng, I think we’re done here.”

  “Wait! Wait, dammit,” the prisoner croaked. She pulled at the ropes binding her, her voice rising in volume and pitch as Ana walked around to kneel behind her. “You said you’d give me a chance!”

  “I did, and this is it,” Ana said, placing her hands on Saareng’s shoulders. “Have you thought of any reason why we should go through the trouble of keeping you fed and under guard? Why we should take the risk that you might try to escape, attack us, or call your friends down on us?”

  “I can lead you to the camp!”

  “We can find it anyway,” Ana said, hooking her arm around Saareng’s throat. “We have the Wayfarer leading us.”

  “But I— if you take me there, I can put them off guard! Or send some away! I could tell them that there was an attack at one of the summoning circles, to draw some of them away!”

  “And risk you betraying us the moment you’re out of our hands?” Ana locked her arms into a loose rear naked choke. “No.”

  “Stop! Gods, please, just stop!” Saareng cried desperately, her voice already strangled despite Ana not putting on any real pressure. “Your friend said you’d make a good Death-mage? I can test you! I can teach you! I—”

  “Your revenants broke my girlfriend’s arm,” Ana whispered into Saareng’s ear and closed the choke.

  Goddess, she should have expected the offer, but it pissed her off anyway. Saareng shook and struggled, but the ropes held her tight, and even if they hadn’t, Ana would have. Teach her Death magic? Fuck her!

  It took fifteen seconds before Saareng stopped struggling. Ana gave it another ten to make sure that she was well and truly out. Then, as Marra and Pirta watched, the first in shocked silence, the second with grim patience, Ana shifted her grip and made sure that there wouldn’t be any last minute System-related shenanigans.

  “I didn’t think you’d actually do it with your bare hands,” Marra said as they left the clearing, having tasked Ari with making sure that the body was burned. Once the poor man had stopped throwing up in the bushes, that was — the dull Crunch of Saareng’s neck breaking hadn’t sat well with him. “I’ve seen people die, and I’ve seen a man executed, but…” The older woman shuddered. “Could she have said anything to convince you?”

  “Sure,” Ana said tersely. She was still angry — at the woman for her offer, at herself for being tempted to accept it, and a little bit at Marra, for her reaction. “She could have said, ‘I’m sorry.’”

  The Sentinel. The Lord of Order. There were numerous small shrines to the deity in the outpost. Captain Pirta herself venerated him, and more than one of the guild members carried his effigy with them on the road, praying and making small offerings at night as they asked for protection and guidance.

  Ana wondered if they’d ever received an answer, praying to a deity that apparently considered their home anathema.

  Captain Pirta and Mamtass, the priest, described the Sentinel as a tireless defender of all sapient life, standing eternal vigil between the chaos from which demons and other spirits sprang, and the planes and Splinters that were ordered enough for mortals to live and thrive.

  The Wayfarer’s portrayal was less charitable.

  A sanctimonious prick. A worthless layabout who only puts his mirror-polished ass in motion to arrange the permanent deaths of some poor, usually mostly innocent Ascenders that offend his delicate sensibilities. To think, I used to respect the bastard! I learned better once I achieved apotheosis, believe you me — he’s been pissy about mortals not being contained to the Primes anymore ever since I created the Splinters. He made a lot of noise about it. But he agreed, dammit! I couldn’t even have done it if he hadn’t agreed! And now the cock’s gone back on his word and is trying to undermine everything I’ve built, and the others refuse to get involved! They all insist that it’s a matter for us to solve between ourselves, which means having our followers fight it out. Calcified, senile cowards, the lot of them!

  Ana could barely hear the goddess by the end. She could feel the exhaustion through her words, but the deity forged on until she’d said her piece, falling silent with a gasp, very much like a deep breath after a long, angry rant.

  It was oddly endearing, in a way. This was, she thought, the kind of deity she could get behind. If she had to be bound to one at all, she could at least draw some satisfaction from the fact that it was one who’d call other gods “fucking twats” and “calcified, senile cowards.” In a way it reminded her of Daniela, her former colleague. She’d had a tendency to go on long, angry rants too, usually about politics and peppered with Portuguese curses.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  The interrogation of the Binder, Saareng, had been profitable, and not just when it came to information. Ana had gained Skill Levels, with Deception, Intimidation, and Sense Motive reaching 3, 7, and 6 respectively, and picked up a Minor and two Medium Growth Crystals in the process. Those were in addition to the Major she’d received for executing the woman — the System didn’t seem to care if you were in combat or not when you killed someone, or if your victim was helpless, which had some disturbing implications regarding the strong growing stronger that Ana didn’t want to waste mental energy on.

  The Skill Level in Deception rankled. Ana had meant what she said — she fully intended to give Saareng a chance to plead her case for why she should be allowed to live. At least she thought she did. She didn’t even feel that she set the bar all that high; some genuine regret would have been enough. But once Saareng confirmed that she’d been controlling the revenants, one of which had broken Messy’s arm… maybe Ana wouldn’t have listened, no matter what. She wasn’t sure. She liked to think that she would have, if the woman had shown the slightest trace of remorse. But at the end it had been all she could do to go for a proper blood choke instead of slowly suffocating the bitch, so maybe not.

  Nobody in her Party commented on the notification they’d gotten just before Ana returned.

  When Ana and the officers met, none of them had a good answer to the question of how to handle the news that one of the major deities wanted them dead. Pirta hadn’t taken it well, and had retreated into a bitter silence. For now, they agreed to keep it to themselves as much as they could. There was some discussion about whether continued prayers would somehow reveal their position or otherwise tip the enemy off, but with how large their band was they decided that it wasn’t worth dealing with. The possible benefit just didn’t outweigh the risks of trying to convince everyone to stop.

  It took them the rest of the morning before they got away from the glade where they’d been attacked. Several of the wounded already showed signs of the void plague, but with so many mages available they managed to cure the worst cases before moving. They left the bones of their dead beneath a series of hastily raised cairns, and those of their attackers among the ashes of their pyres. There had been a strong sentiment among some of the guild members that they should just decapitate the attackers and leave them to rot, but the majority opinion was that some semblance of decorum should be observed, even toward their enemies.

  Their scouts found the Delve late that evening, and they set up camp as close as was deemed safe. There were few attacks that night; even the demons and changelings — Ana and the other officers had decided to start using the somewhat more respectful term for the crazies — were thin on the ground here. Ana’s guess was that they’d been mostly wiped out the previous night. But it was cold. For the first time since Ana got there the temperature dropped into what might have been the low fifties, and people huddled together, sharing warmth around the fires and talking in low, worried voices.

  It was a Splinter with eternal summer. It was never supposed to get cold.

  The entrance to the Delve was massive. A rent in space fifteen feet high and two wide — best anyone could tell without looking directly at it — it hung in a part of the forest that would have looked normal if not for the massive optical anomaly, and the way the trees had had their bark stripped, and ground had been churned to dried mud around it. Adding to the ominous atmosphere was the thunder that rolled across the sky every few minutes, along with waves of force in every direction that churned the clouds until it looked like a pillow factory had exploded across the sky.

  “Something’s wrong here,” Tellak said as the officers gathered in front of the Delve. There was a murmured wave of agreement from the others, and from the four dozen fighters accompanying them. “There should be guards, ready to kill our friends if they come out. But there’s no one. Not even a hint of a camp. Are you sure that they’re still alive?”

  The last was directed at Ana. “I am,” she said. “At least the Wayfarer says that they are. She can’t give any numbers, but Kaira is still praying, along with a few others, and she thinks that most of those that stopped simply lost hope. But you’re right. Something’s obviously wrong. Karti and his band of bastards clearly aren’t worried about it, and for good reason. The goddess says that no one’s come out, and she can’t tell me why. No way of telling what it looks like in there.”

  “What about collapsing it?” Tellak asked. “Has she said anything about that?”

  Ana didn’t even need to ask the question. Always possible, the Wayfarer whispered. Her voice was still weak from her rant, but confident. Most basic laws of Delves. Peak Crystal holds it together. Keystone.

  The others had gone silent, waiting for Ana to reply. “She says yes,” she told them. “She sounds certain of it. Calls the Peak Crystal a keystone. Like in a stone arch, I guess.”

  “Then, the question is,” Simt said, “do we go in?”

  “Or do we ask our friends to hold on a little longer, and try to defeat this Karti without them,” Wandak continued for her, and most of them turned to look at Marra. Most of them had friends in there, but for Marra it was her husband, a man she’d retired from Delving to be near.

  “If you expect me to be selfless,” Marra said, smiling grimly, “you’ll be sorely disappointed. You all know what Tober would say. He’d tell us to move on and not risk it. But I’m not Tober. If you leave it to me, I’ll take the whole guild inside, and damn the consequences.”

  The gathered officers fell silent for a while. Sira, Tor’s Peacekeeper friend, was first to speak. “What tier do you think that Delve is?” she asked the group. “Look at it! What kind of factor would it have?” When she didn’t get anything in reply except for some silent looks, she continued, a little defensively, “Oh, come on! I’m the only one here who isn’t a Delver. Well, and Marshal Cole, maybe. Don’t act like you weren’t thinking it!”

  “Ascendant,” Tellak said speculatively. “This far south, and… just look at the rift! Factor five, maybe higher. Or Supreme, with at least a factor of ten. It’s hard to say.”

  “That’s a lot of experience,” Halmer the Hammerer murmured. “Probably plenty of demons in there, too.”

  “We’re not seriously considering this, are we?” Tarkan, the other Hammerer, said, looking around incredulously at the thoughtful faces of the group. “Ana, you keep talking about not losing. Going in there while Karti and his obelisk are still destroying the Splinter sounds like spitting in the face of fate. Look at the sky! How long do we have?”

  “Rescuing the survivors of the expedition was half the reason we came out here,” Ana said. “But I’m with Tarkan. Something’s preventing them from coming out, and there must be a reason they haven’t collapsed the Delve. We can’t risk getting stuck in there with the world disintegrating around us.”

  “Well, what if we split our forces?” Halmer suggested. “We could—”

  “I’m not abandoning Tober.” Marra’s words were soft, but they were enough to quiet Halmer, and for everyone else to wait and listen. “I won’t try to guilt anyone into coming with me, but I’m going in. I will come back out immediately if I can, to tell you what I see, but I’m going in. Do what you must, but don’t try to stop me.”

  “Mistress Falk,” Wandak said. “Are you sure?”

  “We don’t know why they can’t come out. Not even the Wayfarer knows, according to our Accidental Chosen. If I walk away from here without at least seeing what the situation is inside for myself, and if something happens… if I fall, or if we win and return, and find everyone recently dead… I could never forgive myself. Yes, Mister Wandak. I’m sure. Someone needs to do this, and it should be me.”

  Ana looked at the older woman. She liked Marra. Marra had been unfailingly kind and considerate, but she had a carefully concealed edge to her that could come out when necessary. She’d rather not risk losing her. But what could she do? She was sure that she could physically prevent Marra from going into the Delve, but the woman was determined. It would drive a wedge between them. She was just as sure that she could convince someone else to go in Marra’s stead, but if that person didn’t return, Ana couldn’t see Marra taking it well.

  For a moment, Ana considered going inside herself, but she discarded that idea. She’d have to either bring Messy with her, risking her life as well as her own, or leave Messy outside, where she couldn’t protect her if something happened. Neither was acceptable.

  “Alright, Marra,” she said. “We’ll need to make sure that everyone’s ready, in case you entering triggers something, but alright. Do you need anything?”

  Marra relaxed, nodding her thanks. “Extra food and water,” she said. “And some potions, if we can spare them. I hope to be back outside in a minute, but best to be prepared.”

  “Does anyone oppose Mistress Falk going inside to scout the entrance?” Ana asked the other officers. And while she got some unhappy looks back, from Wandak and Tellak in particular, no one spoke up. “Good. Wandak, Tellak, your Parties can watch the civilians. Everyone else, I want you and your Parties surrounding the Delve when she goes in. We’re doing this as carefully as possible. Right?”

  “Right!” the assembled officers answered by rote.

  “Of course, right! Come on, let’s get everything ready.”

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