Garo tapped his foot as he waited. The priestess glanced around and eyed the surplus of guards as if weighing the risks of an attack.

“Promise me that if I tell you, you will treat her well.”

“I have no interest in bothering Evera,” Garo said. “Had she not withdrawn from our alliance, she would have the same benefits the others do. I simply cannot allow her to become a nuisance. Give me the tools to ensure her cooperation and I will put her out of my mind.”

The priestess hesitated a little more.

Garo waved. “Take her away. We’ll speak again next week.”

“Wait - “ The priestess glanced at the crowd again. “I’ll tell you in private.”

“You’ll speak now before my patience runs out.”

When she glanced once more at Evera’s prison, the guards grabbed her.

“I know one weakness,” she said.

Garo leaned forward, almost unable to hide his eagerness.

The priestess gathered her courage and spoke. “Her Ladyship cannot use her powers if she cannot see. You can blindfold her, and she won’t be a danger to you. You don’t have to hurt her.”

Aria felt pity for the priestess. She was either desperate or stupid if she thought Garo would do anything good with that information.

Garo’s expression morphed from anticipation to confusion. “With her bodily eyes?”

“Yes. If she is blindfolded or the room is too dark, she is powerless.”

“That is useless,” Alogun’s priest said. “She is powerless now in those bonds.”

Garo, however, looked thoughtful. With quick strides, he strode to Evera’s position, a smile growing on his face as he went.

“It’s not what she knows,” he said. “It’s what she never considered.”

The barrier imprisoning Evera crumbled, allowing her to watch his approach. When he stopped several feet from her, she met his eyes and gave a weak smile.

Aria’s heart sank.

Garo held out one hand, and a guard rushed to him and offered a long piece of cloth.

Evera did not struggle. She stayed still as Garo blindfolded her, back straight and chin up.

When Garo was done, he stepped back and admired his work.

The priestess finally seemed to understand that something was wrong. She lurched forward, only to be held back by Garo’s warriors.

With one swift movement, Garo lifted his spear and drove it into Evera’s skull. For a moment, the world slowed. Then, it doubled in speed. Evera fell. The other deities gasped and stepped back. The priestess screamed and began to fight off her captors. Aria averted her eyes, unable, trying to shake off the gory image, but she was no longer mortal. Turning her face did not hide a scene from her.

Garo cocked his head and watched Evera cautiously as if waiting for her to rise and taunt him. A whole minute must have passed before he moved again. He bent and felt for Evera’s pulse. Next, he dipped a finger in the blood pooling beside her, pressed it to the tip of his tongue, gave a subdued ‘hmm’, and then straightened and walked back to the dais.

The priestess screamed curses at him while her sister stood shocked into silence. Garo hissed in irritation and glared at her. She suddenly fell silent. Her head bent forward with a horrifying crack, and she crumpled to the ground.

“So annoying,” Garo muttered.

Garo addressed his warriors. “Test the blood of every mortal in the building. Kill those who fail the test. Split the others in two. Half go to Alogun and the other half to Chalik. After that, categorize and list everything of value in this place. Then, bring me the list.”

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He returned his attention to the orange-haired goddess who was still standing where he had left her.

“Your powers,” Garo said, “your weaknesses, and how to kill you.”

The barrier had appeared around them again.

“I cannot share it,” the woman said. Her voice shook a little, but there was determination in it.

Garo rubbed his forehead, casting a glance at Evera’s body as he did so. The sight seemed to make him mildly uneasy. Finally, he returned his gaze to the goddess, and he remembered her refusal. With a tired sigh, he turned to one of Alogun’s priests and nodded. The priest stepped forward, holding his orb higher. The goddess stepped backward in fear and collided with the barrier behind her. Aria was surprised to find out that it was solid.

The priest muttered unintelligible words, and suddenly the area around the goddess changed. An orb of space around her turned pitch black as if she had been buried in tar. She gasped at the initial shock but relaxed when she realized that she was not hurt. The blackness remained for a second before morphing into pure light as bright as midday. A moment later, that too changed and the goddess stood trapped in an ice cube. She seemed startled by each change but not terrified.

When her surroundings changed again - into an orb of water - she reached for the barrier and attempted to force her way through it. That failed. On the dais, Garo watched impatiently.

The scene changed again, encasing the goddess in a raging inferno, and then she began to scream.

Aria clamped on her own mouth, terrified that the screams were coming from her. They were not, though her own heart was pounding, and she could smell phantom smoke. Clearly, they had discovered her weakness. They would stop the test now.

They did not. Garo held up a hand and instructed the priest to wait. “Let’s see what happens,” he said.

Sweat trickled down Aria’s face. Her legs felt weak, forcing her to expend conscious effort to remain upright. She reminded herself that she was not in danger, but her body no longer seemed to hear her commands.

The screaming stopped. Aria looked up from her own feet to find the goddess slumped on the ground and the orb of fire gone. To Aria’s relief, the goddess’ chest was rising and falling rapidly. She was alive but unconscious.

The priest turned to Garo. “Such a strong reaction implies that fire will likely kill her.”

Garo glared at him. “Do I look stupid?” He waved a hand, and the unconscious body slid to one side of the room. “Move on to the next person,” he said. “You can perform a complete test on her later.” He met Aria’s eyes and pointed at her. “That one is next.”

Aria’s panic had slightly faded when the fire had disappeared. She felt in control of her body again and calm enough to dispassionately watch the approaching warriors. In fact, she felt calmer than she had in weeks.

On the night before her trials, after her father had retired to bed, she had begged her mother to reason with him.

“I can’t do this,” she had said. “I’ll die. Don’t you care?”

Her mother had smiled indulgently at her. “Aria, sweetheart, you’re stronger than you think. Yes,” she’d cut off Aria’s protest, “you are. Your father and I, together, could never give birth to a weakling.”

“I won’t fight.” Aria had pronounced.

“Yes, you will. You will fight, and you will either win or die. This world is not the beautiful garden you think it is. The strong survive; the weak beg on their knees like worthless pests and no one listens to their pleas. As your mother, it is my sole aim in life to make you strong, whether you wish to be or not. If you become wise someday, you will thank me. And even if you don’t, I will feel no regret.”

The warriors reached her and grabbed her arms, but she ignored them. She had pleaded her innocence at the first meeting with Tivelo and then again with Achi. She had insisted on it while they built a statue in which to torture her. No one was listening to her. And why would they? Would she listen to an ant who tried to defend its presence in her home? To Garo and Tivelo, even fellow deities were barely people, and mortals were just objects they occasionally stepped on.

The warriors threw her on the ground before Garo.

Her mother had been correct. The prize for weakness was trampling. Garo was going to ask her questions she could not answer and then torture her until he learned what he wished to know. Torture her like Tivelo had done because she was not strong enough to warrant his consideration.

“Your name,” Garo said. “Your weaknesses, powers, and how to kill you.”

Aria rose to her feet, pure calm overcoming her.

She was not strong enough to defeat Garo, but there was no safety in succumbing to him. He would torture her now, use her later, and discard her when he wished. Or Tivelo would return to his senses and find her. She stood at a cross-road with three continuing paths. She could submit to Garo as well as she could, she could die before he questioned her, or she could fight him and probably still die.

Being trampled on held no lure for her. And why should she die willingly?

She had been silent for too long. Garo was watching her as if she was acting out a particularly fascinating play.

“Well?” he asked when she looked up at him. “Did you make a decision?”

“Yes,” she said. “I did. Before I answer, though, can you tell me why you killed Evera? Why not imprison her? Once you knew her secret, you could have kept her under your thumb.”

For a moment, she worried that Garo would not answer, but he did. He gave a little smile - one of those meaningful ones he had doled out freely since his dueling victory. Aria waited until he opened his mouth to speak. Then, she struck.

The Great Conqueror’s Guide to War, required memorization for aspiring priests in Garo’s service, had one thousand rules for combat. On the list, further down than it should have been, was a rule that had never failed her.

Move First.