The War (Part 3)

Back at the shrine, I was surprised to hear what sounded like hundreds of voices chanting. The discordant chords, alien melodies, and odd rhythms gave me chills. I was still clinging to the stone tooth, but the nuns and monks were nowhere to be seen. Where was the chanting coming from? I could see no one except, on the distant bridge, Asuana in an apparent conversation with Father Ori’s shimmers.

I launched through the air, pushing off the tooth with my feet. A moment later, I crashed into the stone bridge but managed to snag a rock with my free hand. Being weightless, it was not hard to ease myself up over the lip of the bridge. From there, I floated closer to Asuana, who glanced at me briefly and returned to saying, “Torture them all you wish. But they will keep singing. Some of them have trained for this afterlife since the moment they were born into the last one.”

Peering into the shimmers, I got the sense that Father Ori was holding his head, or rubbing his temples, or maybe massaging his eyes.

“My Dear Human,” said Father Ori, “I have been enduring the annoyances of my flock since before you were born. If you think a few hundred voices singing badly gives you bargaining power, you are quite wrong. Now, you’ve had your say, off you go.”

“And!” interjected Asuana, “we control one of the towers.”

Father Ori said nothing.

“Jonny of Davenport has killed Shiny,” said Asuana, “or whatever his name is. Your position in Drymar is crumbling.”

After a deep breath, Father Ori said, “In twenty seconds, I’m going to send you and Nial into the Pit with everyone else. Sing while you burn, or scream like normal humans. It’s all the same to me. And Nial, I apologize, perhaps you have nothing to do with Asuana’s futile attempts to overthrow my mind, but I simply don’t have the time to give everyone individualized treatment. It’s easiest to torture everyone at once.”

With that, Asuana was gone. I braced myself to also be banished to whatever torment happened in “the Pit.” But before that occurred, two of the monks were standing there in Asuana’s place. Father Ori grumbled and seemed, perhaps, to wave his hand. Then monks both disappeared. “There we go,” said Father Ori, “this isn’t exactly easy, you know. Now your turn, Nial. Again, I’m sorry I…”

A nun and Sir Mau were now standing beside me. Growling, Father Ori made a sudden jerk, sending them away again. He waited a moment, seeming to expect further misplacements. When none occurred, he sighed with relief and said, “It’s time for you to go, Nial.”

“Wait! Just one thing!” I said, not sure what I was going to say, but knowing that if there was ever a moment to make a move, to use one of my three gifts, this was it. “I think I can help you! I’m the only one who can talk sense into Asuana and Jonny.” Before he could say anything, I barrelled on. “And I was initiated into the Order of the Mad Morl myself when I got left behind at the monastery, so I could act as an emissary to the monks and nuns of your flock.” I paused to gauge Father Ori’s response. The shimmers gave me nothing, but I was still standing there, so that was something. “Look, it makes sense that when a flock gets bigger and bigger, you might need to organize them into a hierarchy. When I was on a ship, we had a captain, but also a first-mate. And the captain didn’t bother to punish people, he delegated jobs like that. Trust me, I know. I got punished a lot.” Again, Father Ori’s shimmers gave me nothing, but I took silence as encouragement. “You’re captaining your own body and trying to torture everyone at once. No wonder it’s difficult!” Three nuns and Madam Bela popped in and were subsequently banished again by a wave of Ori’s hand. I did my best to sound like I was begging; it wasn’t hard: “Please! I’ll do anything. I’ll turn the crank on torture racks all day long. Honestly, I respect what you’re trying to accomplish. The dream of a new Morl/Human nation is… is a beautiful thing…”

“What did you say the name of Asuana’s order is?” said Father Ori evenly.

“The Order of the Mad Morl,” I said.

Father Ori was silent for several seconds, during which I realized that the discordant chanting was starting to give me a headache too.

“And you were initiated into it? What is its history?”

“I don’t know, but look,” I said pointing to my shaved head. “They shaved my head and everything. By the way, I’ve been wondering, why do we still look the same after we’re—”

“It’s residual,” snapped Father Ori, “Now shut up. I accept. Here’s how it’s going to work. I’m going to send you to the Pit, but I’m going to remove the beetles that devour eyes and genitals, and instead I’m going to put everyone except you into devices called iron maidens. Have you heard of them? You’ll be the one to turn the crank and tighten the spikes. You have two jobs: first, get everyone to. Just. Shut. Up. If you can accomplish that in the next thirty seconds, then welcome aboard, ‘first mate.’ I need to speak with my mother about Drymar. Now. And I can’t do it if I can’t focus.”

“What’s the second job?”

“Find out what Asuana knows about the Order of the Mad Morl.”

“Aye aye, cap–”

“Shut up, Nial. Go tend to my flock.”

***

“The Pit” turned out to be a large stone chamber that could have been a banquet hall except that, instead of tables, it contained almost two hundred iron contraptions arranged into rows and columns. From the devices, the discordant singing arose. Cutting through the noise came Father Ori’s voice from on high, “You have thirty seconds!”

“Wait!” I said. “Which one is Asuana in?”

A cone of light appeared over one of the iron maidens. I dashed to it.

Asuana, I said, Can you hear me? I turned the crank, in what I hoped was the loosening direction.

Yeah. The iron maiden is better than the beetles, I must say.

Can you get your people to stop chanting?

Ummm, I could. But the chanting is kind of what we’ve all been destined to do for a long time.

Please! I said. Just try! I might be onto something.

I heard her sigh from within the contraption. Then she yelled, “My brothers and sisters from the Order of the Mad Morl! Please cease the onslaught for a moment!”

At first, nothing happened. But then I heard another voice shout from within another iron maiden, “Hey, be quiet! That was Asuana!” Then another said, “How do we know it’s not a trick? The morl can manipulate what we experience!” Then Asuana shouted, “The secret passphrase to the basement of the Lighthouse was, ‘May she live forever in our minds.’” Then, to my relief, voices stopped singing one by one and started telling each other to shut up. Soon the pit was in silence. From on high, I heard Father Ori say, “Nial, well done. Now keep it that way.”

Then there was only silence.

I have Father Ori listening to me, I said. He’s going to speak with his mother now. What do we do? And what is the Order of the Mad Morl?

Get me out of here, will you?

I searched the contraption for a way in, but there wasn’t even a hinge. It was solid iron. I… there’s no way in. It’s just Ori’s… dreamstuff, I guess.

Asuana sighed, Figures.

But, said I, meet me in our own dreamstuff, on the bearskin rug.

***

In that cozy dream within a nightmare, we sat on the rug, Asuana with a warm cup of tea in her shaking hands. She looked pale and haunted even now. I could scarcely imagine the pain she had gone through. I almost asked if she had really had her eyes and genitals eaten by beetles, but instead, I said, “We have something he wants. When I mentioned the Order of the Mad Morl, he suddenly wanted to know all about it.”

She nodded thoughtfully, gazing into the fire. I, however, could not take my eyes off her face, for her eyes were beginning to fill with tears.

“I’ll tell you the story, Nial. But I need you to promise that you will not interrupt. Read between the lines and do not ask questions that aren’t relevant.”

I nodded. “Lilly, needs me. We don’t have long.”

“Then suffice it to say in all of morl/human history, there has been only one recorded case of a Gathered human that managed to break free from the mind of an ancient morl. Her name was Asuana. Before you ask, no. It wasn’t me. She was better than I or any of us ever will be. I assumed her name when she died, just before embarking on my quest. A good luck charm.”

She took a sip of tea. “More than a thousand years ago, she was a member of the Order of Pain, and was Gathered at the age of twelve. Slowly but surely, though, she chipped away at the sanity of the morl who held her prisoner. Finally, some time during the first invasion of the South Sea Nations, just fifty-four years ago, the ancient morl completely snapped. He murdered three other high-ranking generals in their sleep and fled the Morl Nation. Somehow, Asuana had gained complete control over him. She could get him to to put her into play whenever she commanded it. She spent the rest of her life founding our order, teaching us techniques that can be used within the minds of morls to drive them mad over time. We are the candles that burn against the night, within the night.”

Another sip. “I met her when the Sisters of the Lighthouse, the Seadom sect of our order, found me on the streets, abandoned. I was a child of ten. She was a child of fifteen, or appeared to be, for she only entered human form rarely, and thus rarely aged. Her order, now called the Order of the Mad Morl, raised me. When the two of us were in our twenties, we embarked on a mission over the Morl Mountains. There, we executed on her plan of capturing a powerful morl Gift Crafter. Returning to Seadom with him, we forced him to give most of the members of our order a very special gift: that if one of us is Gathered, so too are those of us nearby. It was, as you can see, a key component in Asuana’s plan. After this, the morls decided that whoever had managed to penetrate the Morl Nation and capture one of their seven-hundred-year-old Gift Crafters must be a powerful wizard. They called this unknown wizard the First of the Five, never realizing it was just her. Just us. No magical gifts at all.”

“You went into the Morl Nation,” I said, in awe. “You went across the mountains and into a country where everyone is invisible? And no one caught you?”

A wild light came into her eyes as she recalled the memories. “Indeed. We did it three times. Each time, we masqueraded as human slaves for the majority of the journey. Asuana knew the land, language, and culture thoroughly. The Mad Morl, you see, Asuana’s morl, had himself been the preeminent Gift Crafter in the Morl Nation. He had spent the majority of his thousand years running what you might call an academy of Gift Crafters. Asuana knew exactly whom to target. Each time we penetrated the Morl Nation, we returned with a morlish Gift Crafter bound and gagged. Each time we returned to the South Sea Nations, we bestowed carefully chosen gifts onto members of our order, gifts that pertain to this very mission.”

“Like what?” I breathed.

“Well, you know of one already,” she said. “If we are killed by a morl, others around us are Gathered. And then, there is the inverse: If the morl that Gathered us is killed by a morl, we are then Gathered into that morl. So… We cannot be gotten rid of.” She nodded as I absorbed this.

“If someone kills Father Ori, you’ll all go into that morl?” I said. “And I… I guess I just die for real?”

She ignored my question, making me remember I wasn’t supposed to be asking any. “And her crowning jewel? The final gift we all share? If one of us is traded to another morl, any of us can ‘tag along’ so to speak. If you can get Father Ori to trade just one of us to his mother, for example, we can send fifty along with him. Or a hundred. Or whatever we wish. We can move freely through the minds of morls.”

“You’re like… weapons designed to fight the morls,” I said. “From the inside.”

“We are germs of the mind,” she said. “A morlish disease.”

“Will it work? I mean, have you tested these gifts?”

“Nope,” said Asuana, still grinning. “But I have faith in her. And you must as well, for although you do not have our gifts, the monks of the Northern Monastery must have seen something in you, or they would not have inducted you into our order. She is the reason you are here. She knew this day would come. She knew, as her morl did, that the second invasion was immanent. Even now, I suspect, thousands of morlish troops are pouring over the mountains to the east. Father Ori’s family is simply leading the first wave, designed to collapse the South Sea Nations from within, to dominate its key cities, to establish the communication network. They are taking no chances this time. Night is falling, and make no mistake, the human race will be subjugated and controlled by the masters of the night. Our only hope now is to initiate a kind of guerilla warfare, both from within the borders of the South Sea Nations, and from within the minds of the morls themselves. Our job here is to make more mad morls. Many more. Starting with elite morlish generals, like Father Ori’s family.”

“But,” I said, “The last one took a thousand years to crack.” She just looked at me. “So that’s the plan? You all sing and be annoying while Father Ori tortures you, and you eventually get him to trade you to others? Then you spread through the morl population and start trying to annoy them until they finally go crazy? That’s… going to take a while…”

“We live as long as our morlish hosts do,” she said. “Longer even, for we can jump to a new host when one dies. We have all the time in the world.”

“Well, I don’t,” I said. “I need to help Lilly now. Plus, if we act fast, maybe we can actually turn the tide before the fresh troops can get into position. I mean Jonny can blow up entire cities…”

Asuana downed the rest of her tea. “I believe this is why you’re here. Fate has something in store for you. But as for me… I’ve already succeeded, for now. My quest is complete.”

I stood up. “Just tell me one more thing before I go. The ancients who made up this stupid game… do you think they foresaw this?”

“Asuana used to tell me that the morls worship the ancients like gods,” she said. “If they are gods, then perhaps they did.”

“Then,” I said, “perhaps it is no coincidence that on the eve of humanity’s collapse, there just happens to lie, to the north, an empty city stretching across the entire desert, big enough to hold… everyone who can get there. A city with water and food. One whose doors and walls bear the same sign that was on the doors to the shrine.”

“Interesting, Nial,” said Asuana, bemused. “But how do you get anyone to make a pilgrimage north to a city that isn’t even on their maps?”

“That,” I said, “is part of the game, I guess.”

***

I was able to rejoin Father Ori simply by thinking of it. The moment he popped into view, conversation between the three morls stopped.

“Who is this?” demanded Father Ori’s mother.

“Ah!” said Father Ori, “this is my… first mate. He’s annoying, but effective. And I trust that he will not…” Father Ori’s shimmers shifted aggressively, giving me the impression I was being speared with a meaningful gaze. “…ask any questions, nor will he speak unless spoken to.” Father Ori cleared his throat. “Don’t worry about it, Mother, I shall detail it all in my next book. You see, when one wishes to maintain a flock as large as mine, it helps to carefully craft a hierarchical ‘society of mind’ that—”

“I’ve tried making some torture the others,” said Father Ori’s brother. “But they always… go light on each other, you know?” I had to stare at the ground to avoid whatever gaze I would have given Father Ori’s brother, Lilly’s captor. My heart was pounding as I frantically tried to think of a plan but couldn’t. Perhaps I would need to do what I now realized I did best: be annoying and figure things out from there.

“Enough,” said Father Ori’s mother. “Where’s Shoni? He should be here by now.”

I, feeling anxious to the point of nausea, forced myself to clear my throat. The shimmers shifted in my direction.

“Did he just…” said Father Ori’s brother. “Make a noise? Like a throat clearing kind of sound?”

“I believe he did,” said Father Ori evenly.

“Shoni is dead,” I said, eyes on the stone bridge beneath me. My own blood, mixed with that of the other pilgrims was dried there, baked brown by the heat now.

“What?” said Father Ori’s mother. “Ori, I demand that you cut off his balls at once, right here in front of me.”

“Mother!” said Father Ori’s brother. “Why is it always the genitals with you? Ori, just sew his mouth shut or something.”

“Nial,” said Father Ori, with mock politeness, “why are you speaking?”

“Esteemed morls,” I said, head still bowed, “Since being Gathered, I have discovered that I have the ability to contact Jonny of Davenport via a psychic link that appears to be augmented by the communication network. When I was last there, I observed Shoni playing Jonny into a youngling. But…” I tried to gulp down the anxiety lump that rose in my throat.

“But what?” said Father Ori’s mother. “Make him speak faster!”

Ignoring his mother, Father Ori said in the same polite tone, “Nial, what happened to Shoni?”

“Jonny overpowered the battalion in the tower,” I said. “Then he exploded Davenport with his gift.”

The stunned silence was rather satisfying. Father Ori’s brother eventually said, “I did see a brown cloud to the north east of my Lighthouse…”

“It’s okay, my child” Father Ori said to me in a coaxing voice. “What did he do to Shoni?”

“He grabbed him by the neck,” I said. “Or maybe it was the hair. I couldn’t tell. Then…”

“Stop!” screamed Father Ori’s mother. “I don’t want to hear it! I want this little liar screaming in pain. Right. Now! Do it, Ori!”

“Oh, stop it, Mother,” said Father Ori’s brother. “You see? I told you Shoni was too young. Both for this mission and for… the other things. I mean, goodness, you’re almost five hundred years old. Your Shoni was barely twenty. You can find another Shoni.”

Ori’s mother was hyperventilating. Then, with a scream, she kicked my corpse, which didn’t really do much, because she wasn’t really there.

“Here, let me,” said Father Ori, calmly pushing my corpse over the edge of the bridge, where it fell unceremoniously into fires at the center of the earth. “Now, Mother,” he said softly, moving close, “all will be well. As you yourself counseled us when father died, the nuances of the game are not always for our comprehension in this lifetime.”

“Pull yourself together, Mother,” said Ori’s brother. “Until the Emperor arrives, you’re the highest ranking morl on this side of the mountains. If one of my battalion were to see you like this, I’d be a laughing stock. He’s just a Shoni!”

Finally, with one more furious sniffle, she gained control of herself and rose to her full height. “You’re right. Like your father, the time has come to honor Shoni’s plays with our own.” She flung a shimmering something (hand?) into my face and said, “Trade this one to me, Ori. I want to… ‘speak’ with him further.”

“That’s not honoring Shoni with our play,” said Father Ori calmly. “The priority is to retake control of the Drymar bell tower. If we could send in another battalion—”

“But how to give the order?” said Ori’s brother. “Shoni’s troops were positioned outside the city.”

I cleared my throat.

The shimmers shimmered silently in my direction. A low growl came from Ori’s mother. Ori himself said, “Go on, child,” but with thin patience.

“There’s more,” I said. “Jonny isn’t like other humans. He was spurned by humans as a child and raised by Lady Catherine of Davenport, whom I can only assume, from her rank, was Davenport’s local alum. For a time, perhaps all was well. But the people of Davenport poisoned her. Or maybe she was Gathered at the last minute. I’m unclear on this point. But suffice it to say that, it’s no wonder Father Ori was able to recruit him to be a shadow mercenary so easily. He doesn’t love morls, but if you ask me, he likes most humans even less. Perhaps I could convince him to…” I searched for the perfect words. “…serve the greater good of the Morl/Human Nation.”

“Can you simply go to him at will?” said Ori’s brother. “I conjecture that this property of begin Gathered during shrine trance is—”

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” I said, “but we really don’t have much time. I’ll go to him, but there’s one more thing…”

“Go on, my child,” said Father Ori.

I took a deep breath, choosing words with care. “The monks and nuns in your flock, Father Ori. They are dangerous. While torturing Asuana, I managed to learn of their order.” I looked them each in the vicinity of the eyes, then whispered: “The Order of the Mad Morl.”

Gasps came from two of the three shimmers. “What?” breathed Father Ori’s brother. “The Order of the What?”

“Yes,” I said. “They have been training, some since birth, to drive morls insane… from within. They were taught by one of the Mad Morl’s own Gathered.” After a glance at Father Ori, “Father Ori knew they were dangerous, of course. He selflessly Gathered them all before they could could be loosed within the morl population.”

“Incredible,” murmured Ori’s brother.

“What I learned,” I went on, “from torturing Asuana, that is, was that the only way to be rid of them is to trade them into youngling morls, and then… well, you know…”

“Ori…” said Father Ori’s mother. There was a tense moment of silence. Then: “I have often been skeptical of your organization’s mission to keep watch over the Five, the Fifteen, the Thirty, and so on. But this… Let us just say it is good you discovered this before the Emperor’s troops arrived. What if the Order had managed to infect the Emperor himself?”

“I know,” said Father Ori. “I know.”

“We need to get them out of you,” said Ori’s brother. “I’ve a battalion of fifty younglings in and around the Lighthouse. Mother? You have three hundred controlling the Academy, no? I propose we use one youngling per member of the Order, just to be safe. How many of the Order are in your flock, Ori?”

“One hundred and twenty three,” said Father Ori and I at the same time.

“One youngling per member is wasteful,” said Ori’s mother. “How strong can a member of the Order be? Surely a single youngling can withstand two or three at a time, long enough for us to slit his or her throat.”

“But!” said Ori’s brother. “Who shall do the slitting? Other younglings? You’ll end up with a mutiny. No, we need to carefully control the narrative on this…”

“My esteemed morls,” I said, “I humbly request to take leave now. I must go to Jonny. I recommend only that you leave Asuana in our flock for Father Ori and I to handle. I believe she knows more that she has not revealed. Perhaps there are more members of her Order scattered throughout the Nations. They must, obviously, be rooted out, and Asuana may know how to find them.”

“Go, my child,” said Ori. “You have done well. When all of this is over, I shall reward you by allowing you to co-author part of my self-help book on the use of first mates to maintain large flocks. I think I will call it The Flock of Ori, and we shall market it to younglings across our glorious new nation.”

“I have always wanted to write a book,” I said, honestly. Then I cast my mind southward to the Drymar bell tower and winked out.

***

In the bell tower, Jonny was sitting against a wall eating an apple. Without looking up, he snapped his fingers, creating a second apple and tossed it to me.

Jonny, I said, sitting to the man’s right. Lilly is in trouble. Will you help me?

Jonny chewed the apple and said, unhindered by a full mouth, Strong magic hurts. Jonny didn’t know. When he turned to look at me, he revealed a left eye that was almost solid white. Ears don’t work. Now eye too.

From destroying Davenport? I said, repressing a shiver at the thought of becoming both blind and deaf. What happened?

Lady Catherine says all big things come from tiny things, he said. Atoms. She says Jonny’s gift is… moving atoms.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

I had once read a Great Academy physics textbook that had advanced this “Atomic Theory of Things,” even going so far as to conjecture that this might explain why some gifts are able to cause heat or to generate wind: that various gifts manipulate subsets of these so-called atoms. It was one attempt by Academy scholars to unify many diverse magical gifts under a single theoretical framework.

He went on, But maybe when some atoms move, other atoms move too. He rubbed his bad eye, closed his good one, and peered at the apple core. Then he shook his head with a sigh. Eye atoms moved, accidentally. I think.

Can you… I said, …I don’t know… move them back?

Jonny tried, he said.

I was going to ask if you could bring the morl that Gathered Lilly here, like you did with the knives, I said. But moving his atoms across the South Sea sounds like strong magic. And I wouldn’t want you to lose another eye.

At that moment, one of the shimmers on the far side of the room separated itself from the heap of bodies and got to its feet, moaning.

Jonny, be careful, I said. Not everyone from the battalion is dead.

Jonny, lazily grabbed a shimmering weapon and got to his feet. I’m pretty sure the youngling morl fell to his knees; the shimmers appeared to be groveling at Jonny’s feet. Just before Jonny could lop off its head, I shouted, Wait! I have an idea! And Jonny paused. Let me try something.

“Can you hear me?” I asked. But the morl didn’t move. To Jonny, I said, Since you’re really here, could you ask him where the Emperor’s troops are crossing the mountain? Please?

Jonny looked at me with his good eye, as if sizing me up. Then he said, Jonny will try. Because Nial has always been kind.

Jonny grabbed the morl, probably causing it to scream. Being, as I was, in Jonny’s mind, unable to hear, all I knew was that Jonny was showing a picture of a map to the youngling morl. I could see it clearly too, as if it were right in front of us, floating in the air. Jonny jabbed a finger at it and said, Where is the Emperor?

The morl must have understood because the shimmers began gesturing at a place on the Morl Mountains just east of the Great Academy, a place where no trail was marked. Then the morl, apparently getting the hang of non-verbal communication, said Tunnel!

Jonny, I said, I don’t suppose you can scry it? Like the Wizard did to me in the outhouse?

Again Jonny assessed me with his good eye. Jonny will try. Because Nial has always been kind.

The map disappeared, and Jonny dragged the youngling morl, presumably screaming, to the window. At first, I thought Jonny was going to throw him out, just like Shoni, but he bent down and picked up a blue shard of stained glass, one that had perhaps been the eye of some creature depicted in the stained glass, a panther or a dragon perhaps. It was as big as Jonny’s hand (which was humongous). He angled it this way and that, and suddenly it turned black, showing me the inside of a tunnel lit with torchlight. At first, it seemed that the tunnel was filled with only warhorses, trudging steadily. The morl gasped and pointed at one of the horses, who unlike the others was jet black. Ancient generals, he said. They ride black horses.

Jonny, I said, Do you realize that we have a chance here? You could bring the entire tunnel down on them. The entire invasion force would be crushed.

With hardly a thought, Jonny threw the morl out the window, along with the shard of glass. He snapped his fingers, and once again, there was an apple in his hand. He tossed it to me. With another snap, he was holding his own apple. Then he sat in the middle of the bell tower, leaning his back against the bell. Come, he said, sit with me. With “Jonny.” We need to talk.

I complied.

Nial, said the man I had once labeled “the Fool,” Do you remember when I grew so scared on the switchback that I couldn’t continue the climb?

Yes, I said trying to eat the apple and realizing it wasn’t real. It tasted like air, making me realize I had been fooled by Jonny’s dreamstuff. I suppose that was an act. Realizing Jonny had stopped referring to himself in the third person, I said, I suppose all of it was. Are you even deaf?

When I was six some boys in Davenport tried to light fireworks in my mouth, so I killed them with magic I didn’t know I had. I lost my hearing in the process. He chewed his own apple contemplatively, looking past me, out the window at the gloomy skies. When Lady Catherine took me in, she taught me to read and write. She raised me and taught me to use my gifts. She also taught me that hiding those gifts was… what is it “smart” people like the professor say? Ah… yes: Hiding those gifts is “of paramount importance.” Jonny rolled his eyes. Lady Catherine told me that if I entered the Academy, I would be the subject of experiments. Many students with rare gifts are.

Jonny, I really do want to hear your story, I said. But we have a shot at saving the world here. And I’m realizing now that because you can scry, does it even matter if you lose your eyes? If you can put a picture on a shard of glass, can’t you put it into your own brain too?

Jonny chuckled, Probably could. He closed his eyes and said, I see a lot of zombies down in Seadom.

Yes! I said. You can do it. Lilly’s father is raising a zombie army to secure Seadom for the morls.

Eyes still closed, he said, And he is carrying on a conversation with the morl who Gathered Lilly, I presume.

Yeah, I said. They’re pals now. I can’t tell if they’re really friends, or they’re just both acting like they are.

Nial, I want to ask you a question. Do you really think this place, these “South Sea Nations” are worth saving?

My jaw dropped. I glanced behind me at the doomsday clouds. Yes! Of course. I mean, it’s not that bad.

There are a few good people, yes, said Jonny. But are these nations truly good? He snapped a finger and suddenly was holding a handful of gold coins. Do you want to know what I asked at the shrine? And suddenly, I did, very much. I asked what I could do to burn this place of greed and filth to the ground. And Universe showed me that the South Sea Nations were created by the morls, the whole thing, our government, our currency. It’s a big game they created. Universe told me that I all I would have to do to destroy it and start it all again was wait.

Wait? I said.

Wait. And give you a choice, Nial.

My stomach clenched, and I couldn’t quite manage to ask, What choice?

I shall perform one act of powerful magic for you, he said. But you will have to choose what it will be.

I knew before he said it what the choice was going to be.

He went on: I’ll either help you save Lilly, or—

If I let him go on, I would overthink it, so I cut him off: Do it.

He raised an eyebrow at me, eyes asking if I was sure.

I made her a vow, I said. And I’ve made no such promise to the South Sea Nations.

He smiled. Universe wasn’t sure which you would pick. But I was. You too know what it is like to be poor. He tossed a gold coin at me, and it went through me because it was real and I was not. It bounced and flew out the window. I hope you got your money’s worth on this trip. I realized with some vertigo that I had paid fifty gold to the church in this very building. Perhaps these were the very coins I had been given on my way off the Ariel Angel, conjured by Jonny up from the vaults beneath the church.

Will you wait for me? I said. We need to time this right.

I await your command, said Jonny with a big, white grin.

***

When I popped into the Seadom Lighthouse, I could hear the unmistakable, discordant, warble of the monks and nuns that had, it would seem, beaten me here. Father Ori’s brother was speaking to another, smaller shimmering mass: “Do you agree to take these thirty into your flock, young one?” His voice sounded like someone who was in pain but was trying to pretend they weren’t. And indeed, my own head was immediately splitting.

“Thirty!” said the youngling. Then she cleared her throat. “I mean, yes, my esteemed general. May the nuances of the game be one day within my comprehension.”

He made a grunt that must have counted as verbal agreement, as far as the Game was concerned, because the chanting immediately stopped. He sighed with relief and said to Thanata, who was looking at him with a raised eyebrow, six burning ships visible through the window behind him: “It’s complicated. Suffice it to say that I made a trade with my brother and received more than expected. I’ve fixed it, though.”

The youngling began to moan. “They are… making a noise. It…” She fell to the ground. “It hurts.”

Ori’s brother commanded the rest of the battalion to leave, then gently took the youngling to the window. “Let’s get some fresh air,” he said.

“I’m trying to cause them pain,” she said, “as I was taught. But they continue… One of them is telling me that I will never be able to sleep again.”

“I know just the thing!” said Ori’s brother, giving her a shove. She screamed on the way down. The moment she grew quiet, the chanting resumed. I met Lilly’s eyes and gave her a wink of encouragement. She gave back a tiny upward quirk of her lip.

The morl said, “Something’s wrong. I must speak with my brother again. Thanata, please carry on.” With a yell, he called his battalion back in and said, “My mind is once again entering the network. Protect my body.”

The younglings murmured assent. One of them asked about their colleague’s mysterious absence, but Father Ori’s brother was already gone: standing perfectly still and impervious to questions.

Lilly stood amongst a handful of other Gathered, who were all listening quizzically to the strange sound of the chanting. The monks and nuns producing the noise were nowhere to be seen, in the Pit, presumably. Looking into Lilly’s eyes, I realized I felt surprisingly not guilty about having chosen her over the vast world that lay through the window behind her father.

Thanata demanded, “What’s going on? Lilly, are you in there? Can you hear me?” But she could not respond and, honestly, looked like she was glad of it. One of the younglings told him to shut up.

It’s Asuana’s plan, I said.

I hear them, said Lilly smiling. He brought a load of monks and nuns into the flock, and they started making this awful noise. It’s like he can’t get rid of them.

We need to tell your father to make a move now, I said. While Ori’s brother is distracted inside the network.

Thanata strode to the window, saying nothing. I could hear him, however, muttering under his breath.

Lilly said, I think he’s trying to summon me. Like we did with Sir Mau.

“Lilly, is that you?” said Thanata.

“Father?” she said.

“I hear you, sweetheart,” he said. For some reason, it surprised me to know that he called her sweetheart, and I made a mental note never to call her that.

“Asuana’s people are attacking from within,” she said. “Now’s our chance, daddy!”

Thanata began immediately weaving a spell, and a moment later the sounds of feet pounding on stairs came from beyond the door to the Lighthouse chamber, as if hundreds of people were running up to greet us. I fancied I could see the shimmering younglings glancing around nervously. When the door burst open, it admitted a flood of rotted skin, empty grins, and bones. The zombies swarmed over the shimmers, biting, ripping, and tearing at the air, becoming shimmery themselves as the morlish blood covered them. They seized hold of Father Ori’s brother, still immobile, and carried him to the window. There, they dangled him, still oblivious, while Thanata leaned calmly against the wall beside the window.

“Daddy, stop!” she cried out. “I’m inside him, remember?”

“Of course,” said Thanata. “Don’t worry. I would never let anything bad happen to you.” For the first time since embarking on the pilgrimage, though, I realized I was beginning to be able to detect the lies in people’s faces. And from the way Lilly gave a thin smile, I knew she too had her doubts.

Just then, Father Ori’s brother gasped and screamed, “What’s this? Thanata? Let me go!” He swung like a pendulum, suspended only by the decaying muscular tissue of the undead mass.

“I have some questions for you, my friend,” Thanata called down to him. A nearby zombie handed him a goblet of what appeared to be wine, perhaps from the cellars. He sipped it casually, as if he were at a fancy party. “Where is the morlish army crossing the mountains?”

“Mid Lopesa!” said Ori’s brother. “Now, if you please…”

“And from there, where will they go?”

“Three factions will form! One for each—”

“Ah, one for each nation,” said Thanata, taking another sip. “Each former nation, that is. I wish to negotiate with the morlish Emperor. Perhaps you and I can save him the trouble of coming aaaaall the way southward to Seadom only to clash with the army of the dead. Two nations should be plenty for the morls. Let’s leave one for me and my daughter, shall we?”

“Negotiate?” screamed the morl. “With the Emperor? If I even mention that idea to my mother, she’ll disown me and strip me of my titles. And if she were to mention that idea to the Emperor, he’d have her tortured in public at the next Festival of Nuance.”

“Ah,” said Thanata, “I’m sorry you feel that way.” The zombies hauled the morl up and presented his quivering shimmers before Thanata, who calmly drew a morlish knife from the belt that had belonged to the youngling who had played the necromancer. The knife shimmered in the light from the window. With his free hand, Thanata began feeling around in the morl’s shimmers, presumably for something to slice off. He found an ear, and with one quick motion, the morl was screaming. Thanata hefted the shimmering body part in his hand. “Now, let us begin again. We can both agree that the age of humanity has come to an end. All I ask for is…”

I’d heard enough. I wasn’t going to wait around to see if Thanata was the kind of dad whose priorities actually included rescuing his daughter. With a blink, I left.

***

Jonny, I said. Lilly is in trouble. The morl who Gathered her, can you bring him here? We can deal with him ourselves

As you command, he said, grinning. He made various complicated gestures with his hands. I saw his good eye grow milky, not completely white, but a definite deadening of the sapphire blue.

Suddenly Lilly stood beside me, along with the morl’s seven other Gathered. She threw her arms around me, and I realized (not without some psychological vertigo) that I could suddenly hear again, for I wasn’t just perceiving the world through Jonny, but also through Lilly, who was perceiving it through the morl himself. The ever-present chanting was there, like the auditory equivalent of the dark clouds through the window.

The morl was still in mid-sentence: “I told you, my mother will…” Jonny grabbed him by the neck and suspended him from the window, while he squirmed, no more able to break free here than he had thousands of miles south of here, across the South Sea. Not for the first time, I yearned to be able to see into those shimmers, if only to see the look on his face at being once again in the exact same predicament.

Jonny, can you relay my words to him? With your thoughts? At Jonny’s nod, I told the morl, Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you to betray the Emperor. Instead, I want you to play Lilly. Do it, or I’ll send you back to negotiate with Torin.

Somehow, the morl managed a strangled laugh, “Playing someone takes me out of the Game just as surely as death.”

Then trade her to a youngling, I said.

“Deal!” wheezed the morl. “Bring me the youngling.”

But my heart sank as I looked around. The pile of shimmers on the other side of the room appeared, by all accounts, to be quite dead. I ran to them and tried to grope their necks, trying to find pulses amidst the wet, blood soaked bodies. But my hands passed through them, for I wasn’t really there. Jonny, can you keep hold of him and come check these bodies for a pulse?

Don’t, Jonny, said Lilly. Nial, stop.

No! I said. The rest of Shoni’s battalion is camped out over the wall. Jonny can you summon one of them without knowing their exact location? Jonny’s sad grin told me no. Then, maybe we can go find them.

Nial, said Lilly, calmly. We can’t lose control of the tower. No. Have him trade me back to Father Ori.

Lilly! I exclaimed. There’s no way to be sure that—

There’s no way to be sure of anything, she snapped. Stop arguing with me. I made a vow to try to live happily ever after with you, and you did the same. Now you’re practically breaking that vow by trying to “save” me. Keep your damn promises, Nial. Trade me back to Father Ori so I can be with you. I don’t want to go into a youngling without you.

Her words brought tears to my eyes, as if by magic.

At this point, Jonny chimed in, Nial, she’s right. It’s simpler to trade her back. Then you’re together. Otherwise, what? Get Ori to trade you to his brother, then go on a quest to find two younglings? Then get his brother to trade you both to them? And then… what? Where will you go? There is nowhere safe in this Age of Darkness.

Lilly’s eyes pleaded with mine. I love you, she said.

I could feel the weight of the universe upon me, knowing that our happily ever afters were riding on this moment. Unable to speak or even think, I simply gave Jonny a nod.

A moment later, the dangling morl burbled, “Let me check with my brother.” The shimmers went slack. Jonny, Lilly, and I had just enough time to exchange glances before the morl was back, gasping for breath and struggling in the air. “He has agreed. And…” A quick inhale. “…so do I.”

With that, Lilly disappeared, and suddenly the chanting increased in volume, as if the number of monks and nuns had doubled or tripled. I didn’t know what to make of it.

She’s at the shrine now, I guess? Put him down, Jonny, I said. But don’t let him go far. I need to make sure it’s not a trick. Tie him up or something, I guess?

I will. But Nial, after that, I will leave this tower and make my way in the world. I have no desire to “hold the tower” and fight the coming darkness. I welcome it. Thanks for choosing Lilly over this stupid world.

I blinked at that strange grin and couldn’t help but chuckle. Thanks for not hating every human, I guess.

***

Back in the shrine, Lilly and Father Ori were facing off over the bridge. “Honestly,” said Father Ori, “I’d rather have you than the damned Order of the Mad morl anyway. He agreed to take the rest of them off my hands if I took you. That said, now that you’re back in the flock, I worry about Nial’s ability to keep you in line. Ah, here he is now…”

“Father Ori,” I gasped, trying to suggest that time was of the essence. “No time for flock dynamics, right now. The situation has become delicate. Thanata now controls the Seadom lighthouse and seems to be planning to command a zombie army to oppose the morlish advance into Seadom. I took the liberty of extracting your brother by transferring him to Drymar with Jonny’s help. Together, they control the position. What has happened in the Great Academy?”

Father Ori went on as if I hadn’t spoken, using the faux-polite tone that I had come to realize meant that Ori was barely repressing his rage “…I worry about Nial’s ability to keep you in line. And I worry about Nial’s ability in general, given that he did not warn me that the Order can trade themselves at will. My mother accused me of being either an idiot or a traitor and promised to have the Emperor himself sort out which one it is when he arrives with his troops in Lopesa. And…” He breathed deeply, pretending to be serene. “When my brother came to me begging to trade Lilly for the rest of the Order, he told me the two of you were forcing him to do it. Imagine my surprise! He said if I traded, he would take my side when our mother turns me over to the Emperor. I’m sad to say that your term as first mate has come to its end.”

I heard Ori snap his fingers, and suddenly Lilly’s face was gone. Blind and unable to breathe, she fell to the ground, hands groping at the slick skin where her nose and mouth should be. Unable to cry or scream, she writhed on the ground in quiet suffocation.

“Please!” I said. “I didn’t know, I swear.”

Ori said, “I’ve never Gathered two lovers before, but I suspect this is going to be quite cathartic for me. For a time…”

I instinctively tried to kneel to help Lilly, but found my way blocked, as if there were an invisible wall between us.

“Just watch,” said Ori, still quite calm. “Aww, you’re crying! How cute. Let the tears come, my child.”

Wheeling on Ori, I dug deep, knowing that if there was ever a time to really crank up my ability to spout complete bullshit, now was that time. “They’re trying to get rid of you!” I screamed. “It’s been the plan all along. Why do you think you’re the one all the way up here in the north? There are three strategic positions in three capital cities in the three of the South Sea Nations, and just one waaaaay up here! And which one did you get assigned to?”

“It’s—”

“What? ‘The most important one?’” I said, using sarcastic air quotes. “I’m sure that’s what they told you. But think about it. After the Emperor’s troops get to Lopesa, what’s your job going to be? You basically just have to stand here and keep the network operating. Everyone else does the important stuff down there. And who does the Emperor see? Not you. Plus, the rest of them get to move around. They can take breaks. They can swap a youngling into the towers while they go take a piss or, you know, sleep. But if you fall asleep or take a piss, they’ll grumble that you’re not around, keeping the network running. You’re stuck here camping on a bloody bridge in the heat until the Emperor gets around to sending a battalion up here to relieve you. And, guess what? There’s a giant desert-sized city in the way that the morls can’t even enter! Who knows when they’ll arrive, skirting around the whole thing! Through the mountains! And that’s if they even decide to come at all. Because… like I said… I overheard them talking…”

I forced myself to trail off. Lilly was convulsing now, already having torn deep gashes in the skin on her face, having failed to create breathing holes. Her voice-box was making ineffectual attempts to scream. She couldn’t die; she was already dead; so she could only suffer in eternal agony. Perhaps the monks, with all their training, could transcend the deceiving dreamstuffs and sing with their mind’s “true voices” or whatever, but Lilly could not, and I doubted I would be able to either.

“What did you hear?” said Ori. He snapped a finger and gave Lilly back her nose. Her convulsions collapsed into relief, lying there, shoulders heaving, sucking in imaginary air from the two imaginary holes in her face.

“Your brother tried to kill off some of the Order by trading them to a youngling,” I said. “But it didn’t work. They jumped back into his own flock when she died. Then he discussed the matter with your mother, and she told him to convince you to trade the rest of the Order to him, so that they could go to the Emperor and tell him that they had selflessly Gathered the Order into their flocks. After the war is over, they’re planning to tell the Emperor that you went mad and Gathered the Order in a plot to overthrow him. They’re going to say that they discovered this and Gathered them from you to prevent your plot.”

“That’s… ridiculous. It’s—”

“Total bullshit?” I said. I forced myself to look at Ori like he was stupid: a risk, but sometimes you gotta “really sell it” (as my father would have said). “Yeah. Obviously. But guess what… bullshit can kill. And you’re not going to be around to tell him the truth. That’s the real reason I got Jonny to move your brother to Drymar. He’s isolated now. Tied up. I was going to come back here to tell you everything, but… you’re right… I love Lilly. And I…” I fell to my knees and put my head in my hands. It wasn’t hard to make myself cry. The sobs came easily with the after images of Lilly’s pain fresh in my mind. “I needed to get her here to safety because I figured you would ask me to kill off your brother. And I didn’t want her to die!” I put my head on the stone bridge. It felt burning hot even though I knew it must be mere illusion. “Please forgive me, Father. I should have told you right away.”

It felt like an eternity, but then Father Ori’s soft voice came from above, “I’m sorry I doubted you, my child. Arise. Arise, my first mate. If what you say is true, we have work to do. We shall soon find out.”

***

Lilly (recently promoted to “temporary second mate”) and I were at Father Ori’s side when he projected himself to the Great Academy’s bell tower to question his mother. The rest of Ori’s flock was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps, they were in the Pit. Perhaps Asuana was with them. I didn’t dare ask too many questions. I was busy trying to imagine how the talk with Ori’s mother would go, so that I would be ready to spout another volley of life-saving bullshit when necessary.

But as it turned out, the Great Academy was in such chaotic disarray when we appeared that no immediate bullshit was required. The sounds of battle wafted up from the courtyard. The chamber we were in was filled with mist. Father Ori dashed to the window. From the look of things, the students were in open revolt against the morls. But it was hard to tell because the entire courtyard was filled with fog—some student’s weather gift, no doubt. Occasionally, a magic fireball or lightning flashed from within the misty, white mass below. The sounds of swords clashing and fighters screaming revealed nothing about which side was winning.

“Where’s my mother?” demanded Father Ori of a youngling who was also peering out the window.

A voice from elsewhere in the room answered. It was the Wizard’s voice. “She’s not far.” He emerged from the mist, looking exhausted. In his hand, he held the penis device triumphantly. “Finally managed to unlock it with magic.”

“Where is she?” insisted Ori. “It’s urgent.”

“Oh!” said the Wizard, rolling his eyes. “Well, if it’s urgent. Look, you morls are getting exactly what you deserve. You’ve tried to meddle with the most preeminent scholarly institution in the nations, and you are finding a great many urgent issues are arising. Do you know how much trouble it was for we professors to get the student body to do what we wanted? They were always protesting this, or raising awareness about that. Practically every Wednesday there was some kind of ‘demonstration’ or ‘social justice art installation’ or whatnot. And you think you can just waltz in and announce that the Great Academy is under new management, with a new research program, and a new student-led government? The faculty may have fled, but the students will fight authority to the death, no matter what gifts you promise them.” He said it with a strange kind of pride. He tossed the torture device out the window and made a show of dusting off his hands. “This is the Academy’s finest moment.”

“The Emperor is on his way,” said Father Ori. “This small rebellion will be quenched. And you, whom my mother tasked with controlling the students, will be executed and traded to someone who enjoys bizarre torture even more than my mother. Tell me where she is and maybe I can talk some sense into her before the Emperor gets here.”

Professor Octavius didn’t have to answer, though, because at that moment Gwen Florence emerged, dragged through the fog by an unknown quantity of morls, one on each arm at least. Her hands were tied and her mouth gagged. They passed directly through Father Ori’s projected body and stopped at the window overlooking the chaos. The voice of Father Ori’s mother drifted through the fog after them. “Remember that morls are not affected by your gift. I crafted it carefully,” she said. “Now use it to stop this fighting immediately. If you do anything other than that, I shall tighten the device.”

I could see no device, but somehow that made the threat even more sinister.

Can you hear me? I said to Professor Octavius and Gwen Florence. The way his eyes flitted told me that he could; Gwen’s eyes too flicked to mine as she bit down on her gag. You and Gwen are two of the Five, and you are standing in one of the three towers. In Seadom, Lilly’s father is using the tower to oppose the morls with a zombie army. Surely the two of you can figure something out.

Professor Octavius looked thoughtful as a morl removed Gwen’s gag. She didn’t sing and must have been punished somehow because she screamed, cursed, and tried to break free. But the morls held her tight.

“Let’s try again,” said Father Ori’s mother’s voice from the fog. “Sing us a song of peace and love and tranquility, or I shall make sure you never experience those things again for yourself. I will Gather you back personally and ensure an eternity of pain and chaos shall be the end of your story.”

It was then that Professor Octavius made a subtle, experimental move with his hand. A great wind whipped through the tower chamber, shoving away the mist, and knocking Gwen and her captors off their feet, back through Father Ori’s projected body, and into another morl that must have been Father Ori’s mother, judging by the string of curses that ensued. As Gwen scrambled to her feet, Octavius continued weaving spells. The ropes holding her wrists burned and gave way. He hauled her to the wall, away from the window, where another gust of wind punched through, knocking over the morls as they tried to regain their footing. This gave him time to weave another spell, one that must have resulted in whatever device Gwen was wearing to unlock and detach, because I heard a click and saw Gwen break into a smile and kiss Professor Octavius on the mouth.

Sorry to interrupt, I said to Gwen. But you might want to use your gift now and kiss later.

Gwen wheeled on the morls with a fierce grin and began to sing. The words were alien, but they filled my heart with a sudden, acute hatred for the morls. I felt in my bones the pain that Gwen had gone through, the disgust she had for them. It made me want to take up a sword and face them on the battlefield, made me feel that dying to protect my homeland would be the sweetest, most proper way to perish. The sounds of fighting outside intensified, a swell of human battle cries arising from the fog below, in perfect harmony with Gwen’s song of pain, anguish, and bloodlust. I wondered if her song was being heard throughout the nations, amplified by the network. If so, perhaps there was a chance for humanity after all. Two of the morls tried to intervene, but Octavius calmly caused them to burst into flames. They leapt from the window to extinguish themselves.

The city in the north, I said to Gwen. Those who cannot fight should go there! Can you tell… um… everyone? I could see the city in my mind, as in my dreams, bristling at the walls with humans making their stand. Then, perhaps because she had heard me and incorporated this vision into her song, I found tears streaming down my face at the thought of protecting that city from the shimmering onslaught. “To the city in the north!” came the battle cries below. “To the city in the north!” I heard my own voice shouting, and Lilly’s, and Professor Octavius’s. Could it be possible, I wondered, that the same cry was leaving the lips of every child, every sailor, every lawyer and accountant, every farmer and every construction worker, every politician and every publisher? I hoped so, for if so, then Gwen Florence, who I knew so little about, was the true hero in the story of the South Sea Nations. I found myself weeping at my own decision to save Lilly over these majestic lands.

Father Ori’s mother was now the lone morl in the room, aside from Father Ori. She seemed an easy target. But just as Octavius was shouting “To the city in the north!” and weaving a spell, her shimmers were replaced (to my awe) by a dragon so big that it towered over Octavius and Gwen, having to stoop lest its head scrape the room’s ceiling. The dragon’s claw knocked Octavius into a wall, where he sank to the floor, unconscious or dead. Gwen’s singing faltered. The dragon gently picked up Professor Octavius’s body with its mouth and began to shake its head back and forth. I saw the exact moment that Professor Octavius died because it was the same moment his body was replaced by the shimmering of whatever youngling into which he had been played. Then the dragon dropped the morl and moved to snatch Gwen.

She was already running, almost to the door, but the dragon got her before she could open it. The dragon shook her to death as well, in the strange, careful way, as if it were trying to kill the body without damaging it too much. Then, in one smooth motion, it dropped the resulting youngling morl next to the first and transformed back into the shimmers that were Father Ori’s mother.

I realized my jaw was hanging open. It had all happened so quickly that my mind scarcely had time to process it all. Had she Gathered a dragon? I wondered. Father Ori’s mother knelt without ceremony next to the younglings, who were alive but moaning in pain. “Give them back to me,” she demanded. Then, when the two morls groaned an agreement, she put them out of their misery with what I perceived to be a shimmering knife, or maybe a sword or axe or mace.

I could tell they had been Gathered back into Ori’s mother even though they were nowhere to be seen, for suddenly I could hear the sound of chanting, perceived by Gwen and Otto, wherever they were. And I could hear them screaming. I winced at the thought of what must be happening to them.

“Mother!” said Father Ori at that moment. “I see you have everything more or less in hand.”

She growled and said, “This is your fault! When I stepped out with the younglings to handle the Order of the Mad Morl, the wizard coaxed the students into a rebellion.” The sounds of “Down with the morls!” and “For humanity!” and “To the city!” continued to issue from the foggy battle outside.

“Mother, forgive the intrusion,” said Father Ori politely, as if he had not just witnessed the same scene I had, and as if he had not just been accused of causing the whole thing. “I wanted to pop in and ask when I can be expected to be relieved of my post here in the north? Given that there now exists a city in the way, and given that your decision to play Gwen Florence has led to perhaps the entire population of the South Sea Nations knowing about said city, I worry that your decision to place me here instead of, say, Shoni has put the Emperor in a strategic position with some… How shall I put it? Nuance. I’m strongly considering leaving the shrine and making my way back on my own at my earliest convenience. I’m sure the Emperor will agree that the network is much less significant than we planned, now that Shoni and my brother have failed to maintain the positions that you assigned them. Plus, with some of you carrying the Order of the Mad Morl, the Emperor will need as many… how shall I put it… uninfected generals as he can get.”

Father Ori’s mother rose to her full height, which (I noticed for the first time) seemed to be much taller than Father Ori. “Is that your narrative, Ori?” she said in a low voice, still breathing heavily from her recent exertions. “Then by all means, make your way back and whisper your nuances to the Emperor yourself. We will be whispering ours to him in the meantime.” With that, she walked away, leaving the tower. Father Ori’s stunned silence lasted so long that it was only finally interrupted by the sound of a dragon joining the fray outside, and the screams of students running for their lives.

“Let’s go,” said Father Ori.

“How did she turn into a dr—”

“Shut up, Nial.”