“My fellow priests and I have finished our search of the southern quarter. We checked every crevice and loose stone for the possibility of a secret entrance or a hidden chamber.” Ligo paused for breath, standing rigid-backed in front of the moldering desk, hands clasped behind him. From the other side, Shamain stared at him imperiously. She wore her usual glower, and expression he was beginning to think was simply her default expression.

  “And?”

  “And there was nothing. The same as with the Northern quarter, and the Eastern, and the Western. If those children are still in the temple, their prison is well hidden.”

  “Hmmph. I grow tired of your excuses, Ligo. What am I even allowing you out of that cage for if not to help us?”

  A hint of a smile crept onto Ligo’s lips, but just as quickly he wiped it away. “Is the information I’m providing you not help enough?”

  “Scraps and hints and little more.” The woman sneered at him. “Don’t think I’m not wise to your plans. Keep feeding me morsels until your precious Zavastu arrives to rescue you. Well, I won’t have it. I’ve put up with your games for weeks. It’s time to tell me the whole truth.”

  Ligo, who doubted the lud elder could grasp even the barest shape of the whole truth, made a show of hemming and hawing. This was a woman who liked to believe herself in complete control of any given situation. If he had learned nothing these past weeks, it was that. So he played along.

  “I told you everything I knew about the memory shards’ creation,” he said eventually. “If the truth was not to your liking, that is hardly my fault.”

  “Your truth, perhaps.” Shamain reached into a drawer of her desk and pulled out a reddish stone, placing it in front of her. She traced its surface idly with a finger.

  It took all of Ligo’s willpower not to lunge forward and seize the stone.

  “Why only certain people?” she asked. “Why wouldn’t everyone form a memory shard when they die?”

  “Because most people lack the proper transcendental conduits,” Ligo replied. This was a conversation they’d had many times before, and frankly, he was growing tired of it. But the stone on the desk captivated his attention. He suspected he knew where the conversation was leading, so he continued playing his part.

  “Yet I’ve never heard of such a thing appearing before. Surely at least a few of our ancestors must have had these transcendent conduits.”

  “Transcendental conduits,” Ligo corrected, then immediately regretted the decision as the old lud glared at him. He hurried on. “It is not simply a matter of possessing them. One must also be bonded to a god, have their power added to one’s own. The combination is not fully understood, only that it can lead to the creation of these stones upon a priest’s death.”

  There were several other lengthier but less lethal ways to harvest the memory shards, but he kept that information to himself. A bargaining chip for later.

  “And these shards can be used to increase a god’s power?” the woman asked, repeating the story he had told her. “That’s why Zavastu and my avatar seek them? To grow their strength?”

  “Correct.”

  “They serve no other purpose?”

  “None that I’m aware of,” Ligo lied. It was the hardest part, keeping his face neutral. Every time he feared he might inadvertently let something slip.

  However, just like the times before, it appeared he was successful in his subterfuge once again. The old woman grunted, then picked up the stone and tossed it to him. “There. You’ve earned your prize. I only hope you’ll remember the terms of our agreement.”

  “Of course.” Ligo gave a half-nod, half-bow. He hated acting subservient to a mudrat, but sometimes concessions needed to be made. At least until he was no longer a prisoner.

  “Good. When your Zavastu does eventually show, we can make sure the bloodshed is kept to a minimum.”

  “I look forward to that day’s arrival,” Ligo said with full honesty. The woman nodded, then called for the guards waiting outside.

  As they escorted Ligo back to his prison, he finally allowed a smile to slip on his face. He glanced down at the crystal in his hands. Finally.

  The elder lud would get her wish, if not in the way she quite expected. Ligo didn’t intend to wait around for Zavastu’s arrival, should the glorious goddess even deign it worth her time. No, the goddess favored those who helped themselves.

  And Ligo finally had the last tool he required to do so.

  Several minutes later they reached the door to his cell. The two lud pushed him inside so hard he almost stumbled and fell. Ligo turned to glare at them, but the door was already shut. He glowered at it anyway.

  “Archon, are you alright?” Berart rushed forward and helped him to his feet. The other two priests, Aanat and Tipec looked up from where they had apparently been sleeping against the far wall. Ligo could hardly blame them for that. They’d all lost track of their natural rhythm, trapped down in this lightless pit as they were.

  “I’m fine. Nothing bruised but my dignity.” Ligo glowered at the door again. While he might have turned Shamain to their cause, the same couldn’t be said for the rest of her people. Especially these lower-class members, the Daisa. Still, so long as their elders sided with Shamain when the time came, that should be enough.

  “How much longer do they intend to make us help them search?” Berart asked as Ligo began digging through his blanket heap. “It has been weeks, and still no sign of the missing children.”

  “I do not know,” Ligo said. He extracted the two other memory shards that he had collected from his earlier meetings with Shamain. At last. He turned back to Berart. “It matters no longer. The children will soon be the least of the luds’ concern.”

  The other priest of Zavastu stared at the shards, uncomprehending. Ah yes, of course. Berart was a paladin in the goddess’s priesthood, and on track to be initiated as an archon in a few years, but he was not there yet. Thus, there were certain secrets to which he was not privy.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Neither were the other two, who lacked the basic conduits to be considered for advancement. Pity. He began assembling a makeshift altar.

  First there were the candles he had stolen during the briefest moment when his guards were distracted elsewhere. Next was a bowl he had withheld from one of their meals, telling the guards it had fallen down the privy. Had it been a fork or some other utensil that could double as a weapon, it might have been an issue. But what mischief could a bowl cause.

  What, indeed.

  Finally came the small stone he always carried in his pocket, ignored when the lud had first searched him after his capture. An inconsequential thing, a stone. Too small to bother throwing, nothing more than a memento.

  Yet to Ligo, that stone was now everything. Bringing one of the candles near the wall, he ran the stone along its surface in short, quick motions.

  At first, nothing. Then a few sparks flicked out from the flint, and with luck one caught upon the candle’s wick. Within moment, he had them all lit and arrayed on the makeshift altar.

  Ligo sat back and sighed with satisfaction. The hardest part was over. He had done it.

  These lud would rue the day they ever chose to cross his goddess.

  Placing his hands to either side, he began to channel Conviction into the altar. He felt it streaming out of him, less like a physical flow, and more like a metaphorical emptying of his emotions. Always after utilizing his own internal reserves, Ligo was left with his emotions feeling muted, drained of any real edge. He could overcome it with pure willpower, but until his Conviction recharged in a few days, it would be a constant battle.

  As he poured more and more Conviction, he reached down with one hand and picked up the memory shards. One at a time, he tossed them into his mouth and swallowed. Behind him came several whispers, but his fellow priests knew better than to interrupt.

  No sooner had he swallowed the last shard than something changed with the altar. Ligo felt it beneath his fingers. It was nothing overt, nothing that the eye could pick out, but the altar was subtly different somehow.

  Ligo knew what it was. His goddess’s prescence had come to roost. Weak for the moment, but that would change soon enough.

  Then words bloomed in the air before him.

  Ligo noted the error message next to Commune, though he’d expected to see as much. The interference from the stone god’s temple was certain to be too much for his pitiful little altar to punch through. No matter. He doubted he had the conviction to form a connection this soon anyway.

  And his goal wasn’t to reach his goddess. No, Ligo had grander plans than that. He intended to be waiting at the front gates when his goddess arrived, this upstart avatar trussed up like a moonwane wesker waiting to be roasted.

  No, he didn’t need any of the functions an altar would provide, just the domain itself. Already he could feel the return of his goddess’s gifts. The urge to summon a fistful of fire was almost overwhelming.

  Instead he reached back down and began channeling more Conviction into the altar. If all he needed was to send a quick message, it wouldn’t have mattered, but without more conviction, this altar would break apart in a matter of hours, maybe even minutes.

  He forced more Conviction through his body—and found he had no more to give.

  No! No, no, no! Internally he screamed. His own natural reserves should have been enough to at least funnel a single additional point into the newborn altar. So why couldn’t he draw out even another drop from within himself?

  Perhaps it was the seclusion in this room for weeks on end. Or perhaps his proximity to an enemy’s domain. Whatever the reason, it seemed that Ligo's own Conviction had dipped. This... this was a potential disaster.

  Already beneath his fingertips he could feel the altar shiver. He needed to feed it more Conviction soon, or...

  Turning, he motioned for Berart to join him. The paladin approached hesitantly. “Archon? I can feel our goddess’s gifts awaken within me. Does that mean—?”

  “It means the first step in our escape plan was a success. However, there is a... complication.” Ligo hesitated. While he remembered his own training on how to utilize Conviction, he’d never trained another potentiate in the process. Was it even possible for the priest to do before he was raised to archon?

  He would have to, or all else was lost. Ligo gestured for Berart to place his hands on the altar. “I need your assistance. Close your eyes, and try to visualize a river inside of yourself...”

  He walked Berart through the process. At first the other priest frowned, but then a smile drifted onto his face. “I think its working. I can feel something flowing through me.”

  “Good, good. Now, direct it into the altar.”

  “Alright...” Another few precious moments passed. Finally Berart opened his eyes. “I think I did it.”

  “Let me check.” Ligo reached out and touched the altar.

  It was all Ligo could do not to cry. They were so close! He looked at Berart. Was it even possible? He’d had his concerns, but...

  He made a quick decision. “Place your hands on the altar, Berart, and try again. Close your eyes.”

  “Like this?” the paladin asked.

  “Yes, good.” Ligo stood behind the man, hands resting on his shoulders. “Now, just relax, and let your power pool inside of you.”

  “Alright, I’m trying archon. I want to help.”

  “You love our goddess?”

  “Of course, Archon!”

  “And you would do anything for her?”

  “Yes, Archon.”

  “Good.” Ligo closed his eyes as well. He sighed. “Then, in the name of our goddess. I need you to die.”

  He felt the priest stiffen. At the same moment, Ligo clamped a hand over Berarts mouth. He placed the other on the back of his head, then activated his Flame Touch.

  Muffled screams poured around his hand, but Ligo held tight. He burned his way through Berart’s skull, feeling first flesh and then bone give way before the awesome might of Zavastu.

  The priest spasmed one final time as Ligo broke through the skull and cooked his brain. Ligo continued to hold tight until the spasmed stopped, then lowered the corpse to the ground.

  He watched, afraid to even breathe. Behind him he could sense the other two priests’ terror, but he didn’t turn to address them yet.

  Please. Let this be worth it.

  Then, it formed. A single, solitary memory shard appeared on Berart’s chest. Ligo snatched it up and pushed the corpse aside. Swallowing the crystal, he funneled the energy into the altar.

  Ligo let out a sigh of relief. It was done.

  He turned, and found the two remaining priests watching him warily. “...Archon?”

  “Take that body and shove it down the privy,” he said, gesturing towards Berart. “Then pile as many blankets together as you can. With luck, the guards won’t notice his absence until its too late.”

  “Y—yes, Archon.” The two priests hastened to do his bidding. An acrid burned smell lingered in the air, but there was nothing Ligo could do about that. He’d simply have to count on the lud’s distaste for lingering in the prison cell to hide what had transpired here.

  He glanced down at the altar. It would take a week, perhaps two, for the power inside it to build enough to start pushing back the stone god’s domain. His goddess was more powerful, but she was also distant. Still, all it would take was time.

  Then Ligo and his fellow priests would show these lud what it meant to cross a goddess of fire. They feared the arrival of Zavastu? Hah.

  They would come to fear him more instead.

  END OF BOOK TWO