“Are you well?” Chalik asked.

Aria felt weak. She was sitting on the ground and using one hand for support. And Achi had not awoken. His body seemed as lifeless as it had when she first caught them gloating over it. That memory brought a vicious surge of anger, far stronger than she had felt before. The potion had not stopped manipulating her feelings though its compulsion was gone.

So, why was he not awake?

She kissed him again, pulled back and waited. The others seemed to be waiting with her, though they seemed confused as well.

Garo spoke first. “What is going on?”

“I sense Evera’s magic,” Alogun said. His eyebrows sank suspiciously. “Why would you - Ugh. Did you take one of her potions?”

Aria kissed Achi again, cursing when it did nothing.

“It won’t work,” Alogun sighed. “Evera’s potions can stimulate intense obsession, but once it wears off, all that remains is what was already there. It’s fine for tricking mortals, because they can’t tell the difference, but Achi’s magic can.”

Aria rose to her feet.

“It worked,” she said. Her sense of Achi’s position was fading, but the guilt and shame remained. She knew that she was trapped in Alogun’s home, but she had no intention of escaping. Despite the potential costs, she intended to see this through.

Alogun frowned. “As I said, Evera has no power to create actual affection. Whatever you feel was already there.”

Aria dusted herself off and straightened her back, trying to project some measure of control. “What about the second dose? I never took it.”

Alogun stared down his nose at her, looking smug. “The second dose contains a note explaining what I just told you, because a treatment must outlast the deception to be effective. Now, can we begin our business?”

Aria attempted to teleport out of the building and failed. None of those around seemed to notice, so she kept calm and ran through her options.

There were two unfamiliar deities in the room. She guessed that the stocky man was the messenger, which left a woman with shorn hair as the oathbinder.

Aria teleported herself to the nearest armchair and sat down with her legs crossed. “I still expect complete details about the help you will offer before I take any oaths.”

Chalik came over, walking leisurely. “You know that we won’t do that,” she said. “And why would it be necessary? Read the oath we’ve crafted first.”

Aria accepted the proffered sheet from Chalik. Everything about the situation felt uncomfortable. She shot a glance at Achi’s body before taking in the paper. There were two oaths listed, one for Chalik and one for Aria.

Chalik’s said, I swear to use all of my ability to assist Aria in reviving Achi and preserving her life.

For Aria it said, If Chalik, Garo, and Alogun successfully assist me in reviving Achi, I swear to order Achi to keep Tivelo from punishing them for any past offenses.

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“There is no need to worry about loopholes,” Chalik said. “The oath works based on your perception. If you believe that I have not kept my oath, I will die. My perception of the situation does not matter. In the same way, if I think you have failed to keep your oath, you will die.”

Aria felt even less happy about the oath, then.

“You seem like the paranoid sort,” Chalik said, “and this is the hardest kind of oath to break. I’m sure you’re reasonable and will be able to tell if I have upheld my end. And your oath is simple. As long as you give Achi the order in my presence, I will have nothing to complain about.”

Aria took another glance down at the paper while something churned in her stomach. “Explain what you mean by ‘order’.”

Chalik folded her arms across her chest. “If our plan works, you will have the ability to make Achi do anything you want, just as he can order his father to do his will.”

“Achi can’t do that.”

Chalik frowned. “Of course, he can.”

“No, he cannot. He could not stop Tivelo from… locking me up.”

“Ah.” Chalik shook her head. “There’s a difference between asking him to do something and ordering him to do it. That is why your oath specifies an order. He will comply with an order if it is possible for him to do so.”

“And would it be impossible?” Aria asked.

Chalik shrugged. “All deities are complicated. My guess is that Achi could never have ordered Tivelo to pardon you because punishing you was necessary to help Achi. Or perhaps such an action would have caused a rift between them and he hoped to avoid the option. You can ask him when he wakes.”

Aria let the writing drop to the ground beside her. She felt uncertain, again; angry, afraid, uneasy.

“And if this plan fails,” she said, “what happens?”

“Alogun will try to return us to our old home. He will probably fail.” She shot a glance at Alogun. “He is proving surprisingly incompetent. But, even if he succeeds, mortals cannot survive there given the condition it is likely in. Any deities that can survive in that environment will have a home, but make no mistake: we have no other options.”

Aria addressed the shaved woman. “And you will be binding this oath?”

The woman nodded, a jerky movement made jerkier by her stony expression.

“And what did they offer you in exchange for tricking me?”

The woman’s expression changed into a mixture of amusement and offense. “You must be very young,” she said. “My name is Proiva. I am older than you by about sixteen centuries and wise enough to overlook that insult. I’ve survived this long despite my lack of cunning and combat ability by having this one useful skill. I can create an oathbinding that binds you both with your own powers. That means that you will never be able to break it without either killing yourself or losing your powers. Even if I were interested in losing my reputation in order to trick you, I cannot. As you should know, deities are bound by their natures and powers. I cannot bind a false oath any more than Garo can throw a duel. Now, if you are all done talking down to me, I would prefer to finish this before the world ends.”

One pair at a time, every eye turned to Aria.

The oath seemed safe. The others gained no benefit if she did not both revive Achi and survive. Forcing Achi to do something against her will went against her own wishes, but refusing to do so would force them into a standoff. Besides, she chuckled to herself, Achi would probably try to get them a pardon, anyway. He certainly would not begrudge her doing whatever she could to save them.

“I’ll take the oath,” she said. “On one condition: Garo and Alogun must take it as well. And they must additionally vow not to intentionally harm me or anyone I know.

Garo grumbled the most, but he and Alogun capitulated quickly. And why should they not? They had much to gain from the arrangement and nothing of worth to lose.

The oath itself went smoothly. Aria took hers last because she still feared treachery, but the other deities gave no indication of such plans. Alogun seemed impatient and Garo looked irritated, but it was Chalik who bothered Aria. She stood utterly still as she watched the proceedings, like a tree on a windless day.

When Aria had taken her oath, Provka turned to Chalik, hand outstretched. Chalik paid her with a single large coin, catching Aria’s eye as she did so.

“For her services,” Chalik smiled, “not for betrayal.”

Proivka gave everyone a quick once-over, and then departed with the speed of someone who wanted to be anywhere else.

The messenger deity excused himself as well. Aria watched them both as they mounted one of Alogun’s carriages and were ferried off by an attendant.