Rabam observed Tilau from the forest. The monks seemed weirdly calm. They had sent the usual two groups of sentinels out to spy on Suimer, probably expecting that night to be like the others, where they were the hunters on the prowl. The people accompanying him were shifting in place and whispering, never loud enough to put the mission in danger. They didn't talk to him, but he could feel their glances. They all thought he was going to die.
"So you’ll wait for my signal in the woods? What if I fail?”
"You’re a goddess. I think you won't have any problems."
"We won't be able to do it twice. The moment we take one god, they'll know they're not safe anymore and start replacing them."
"We won't do it twice."
A lamp of golden light illuminated the otherwise clear night sky. The whole group lurched forward in the dark before they remembered to wait for his lead. He took a trail he'd known since he was a sentinel. They descended in a line until they were right on top of Tilau’s temple, then split into two groups. Rabam and his half headed toward the village, the rest to the monks' tents.
"I don't understand,” council member Cadia said. “Is it an actual rescue mission or just a distraction?"
"We should aim for both. We need to know what happened to the people they took. We'll also need cloud water, if I succeed."
"What's the plan if you don't?"
"I think you should prepare to leave."
They creept around the houses in smaller groups to get a sense of what was going on. The long absence of gods and the presence of the monks had cracked any feeling of normalcy: all the windows were closed with both glass and wood, nobody was around, even the nightlights had been snuffed out. When they finally spotted someone, it was two monks. Rabam stepped on their way with another inhabitant, while another group subdued them from behind, taking advantage of the distraction.
One of them managed to cry out before being knocked unconscious.
"This is our village. It's absurd we're even entertaining the idea of leaving it."
"I hate to say it, but Aili is right on one point: if I fail, and it's likely, the monks will change strategy. They might discover the holders, they might realize what we're after and put protections in place."
"I also said that they might capture you and read your memory. But not even you think you're going to survive this, do you?"
Monks started pouring out of the houses. They weren't only living inside the tents as they'd first assumed. Rabam grabbed his spear and stayed behind to fend them off while the rest of the group retreated. Some of them lingered to fight as well, but he couldn't yell at them to stick to the plan without putting everything at risk.
He resisted until it was clear that their swords were too dangerous for his makeshift spear. A blow bounced against the thick leather protection he was wearing over his tunic. Cold fear washed over him, but luckily the cloth hadn’t been pierced.
He pretended to stumble down while he stepped back.
"Go on," he screamed at the rest of the group. "You know what to do!"
"And you think that yelling that will be enough?"
"Between you kidnapping a god and the attack at the tents? Yes. Enough to think there's something more to what we're doing. Maybe it’ll convince them not to kill me on the spot."
Monk hands were around his mouth before he could say anything else. His head rocked after a blow to his cheek. He was pulled to his feet and tried to struggle, but there were already too many monks around. A light was shoved in his face.
"I recognize this one. It's the traitor who escaped twice."
"Rabam?"
"I guess. What do we do?"
"We can't risk they'll free him again. Maybe we can negotiate. Where’s Maris?”
“At the tents. Something’s going on there.”
"Check he doesn't have anything dangerous.”
They stripped Rabam of the protective leather and spear. They checked the bag he was carrying, analyzing the most trivial things in search of patterns.
"They're going to find it."
"No, they're not. We'll make it flat and hide it in an internal pocket."
"They might pat you down."
"In that case, we'll add some padding."
"Who's 'we'? You don't know how to sew."
Elder Nakai set aside the knitting needles and slammed her hand on the table.
“That’s enough. I’ll take care of it personally."
They did pat him down, and even checked the inside of his mouth. Fortunately, he had already swallowed the capsule prepared by the herbalist. Soon it'd have dissolved inside his stomach.
A series of spears thrown from afar put the monks on alert.
"They're trying to save him! Bring him to Laius.”
A smaller group of monks detached from the main one, dragging Rabam with them. They crossed the village, avoiding the sound of fighting, and took a trail that led up the mountain. He went with them, hoping they wouldn't find it too suspicious that he wasn't struggling all that much.
"How much time before it dissolves?"
"Two hours, give or take. Don't drink water."
He relied on his limited experience of sentinel and his way-too-long one of living alone in the forest to gauge how long it took to reach the village. He even accelerated at one point, even if the monks took it as him trying to run away. He started sweating in the cold of the night, and it wasn't because of the climb.
"What's going on?" said a voice from above.
"Suimer's rebels attacked Tilau,” the monk at the head of the group explained. "And we got news that Erimur’s sphere has been stolen by their goddess".
Rabam looked up. He couldn't see the abbot, of course, but it was easy to imagine a malignant face outlined by the treetops, looking down at him with dozens of star-like eyes. Or maybe he was already hallucinating.
"He's carrying something," the abbot said.
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Rabam's heart skipped a beat when a portion of his tunic burst open at chest level. The device slid off from the wound in the cloth. Luckily, elder Nakai had predicted it could happen, and the cut hadn't seemed to sever any of the important strings.
"You want me to do what?"
Davem’s hazel gaze made Rabam feel like a fool. It didn't help that he could practically feel Aili's disapproving presence as she silently followed the conversation.
"It doesn't have to make sense, it just needs to look believable. And make it as flat as possible."
Davem observed the rough designs he’d provided.
"This is the kind of work a clockmaker should do, not a blacksmith."
"I know, but we don't have any available. Do your best."
The monks observed the object rotating in the air. It looked like the head of a spear, flat at the edges and with little volume at the center. It was covered in patterns and viss.
"What is it?" the abbot asked.
Rabam did his best to shrug despite the two monks keeping his arms in place.
"I was told to bring it with me and activate it. They knew there was a chance I'd be captured, so they didn't tell me what it does."
He hoped the dizziness, nausea and slight pain he was feeling reflected in his viss as well. Aili had already tampered with it, but the more muddled it was, the better.
The object flew away in the dark.
"Bring him to the village."
Rabam smirked, even if the movement made his lips twitch in pain.
"To be interrogated?"
"To be executed. You've already fooled us one time too many. Our scholars can learn what that thing does without your lies. And you," he said, startling the monks. "Good job on capturing him, but check his clothes better next time. That thing was so full of viss it stained his tunic.”
They all murmured their agreement and excuses. Rabam stopped collaborating, so they had to drag him to the village's entrance. All of his focus was on not letting the pain show to the surface. It would be unforgivable if the abbot realized what was happening and healed him.
"And when are we supposed to attack? It's not like you can give us a signal."
"Once we have a god, we can use it as a hostage. Threaten to break it if they get too close. So you can leave the village, and wait around until the monks bring me past a certain point before intervening.”
"You're not going alone," Lada said, looking at Aili's empty chair. "We might need to contact you, and you might need help from us. Some of us are coming with you.”
A barrier of light cut the forest in half. It wasn't too far from the monks, so they stumbled forward with such a weak grip on Rabam's arms that he could have run away, if he had the strength.
"Give him back or you'll regret you ever became a god," Aili yelled.
"Carry him inside," the abbot told the monks, then raised his voice. "What are you willing to give us in exchange?"
"Nothing."
"Then we'll kill him. You can have his head."
The banter between the gods faded in the distance while the monks carried Rabam up the last slope before the entrance. There were more sentinels on the outside, looking at him with hate. At least the venom in his veins burned harder than any memory of what he'd done. The little immunity he'd built in the past days couldn't do much against the dose he'd taken. Now he only needed to resist as long as he could while Aili distracted the abbot.
Everyone seemed to have been alerted about the execution, because rivers of people wearing the dirty tunics of the previous day were leaving their rooms to reach the temple. A complete disruption of their routine, all to see him die.
He collapsed, head down, all of his weight on the two people keeping him upright. They were so surprised they almost dropped him.
"Nice try, but it won't work with us," the left one said, tugging at his arm.
He didn't react to their attempts to make him walk. Even a kick to the side didn't have any effects, since all of him was burning.
It was important that the abbot didn't realize why he was dying, but his thoughts were becoming so sluggish he couldn't tell why. There was nothing he could do about that anyways, besides hoping that Aili’s attack would be enough to keep him busy.
"Let's take a walk on the beach."
The voice was so real he managed to open his eyes. The monks took it as a sign he'd been faking his pain and dragged him further down the corridor. He looked around, but soon exhaustion had the best of him. He let himself collapse in the clutch of those who wanted to kill him. Milvia wasn't really there, he knew that. That didn't stop his mind from returning to their last days together. He could smell the sea breeze, hear her words somewhere nearby, now next to him, now falling from above. But he could only see darkness.
"Something's wrong," a monk finally said. "I think he's actually sick.”
They laid him on the floor. The cold stone was a temporary relief against Rabam's neck. Or maybe it was a gust of wind from the sea.
“Abbot?” one of them called. "What are we supposed to do?"
The voice didn't immediately answer.
"We're under attack," he said in the end. "Cut his head and bring it here."
"Without ceremony?"
"No. I want him gone. They'll stop attacking once they realize he's dead."
Rabam felt four hands grab his arms and heave him from the floor. Now that they thought him almost dead, they had no qualms about treating him as a useless weight. He wished it didn't feel like they were trying to pull his arms out of their sockets.
He couldn't tell anymore in which direction they were moving, whether forward, up or down. He only knew that he wanted to stay in that darkness where Milvia was talking to him. He wondered how she'd react once she knew what he'd done to Bades. Maybe he was there too, in that darkness with them.
He'd almost passed out when they dropped him onto the floor. It was cold again, and the sea was suddenly too far, Mili silent. He didn't know where he was, he couldn't open his eyes to check even if he wanted. He barely registered the presence of the monks around him.
"What if Laius has access to the crater room? What if he kills you himself?"
"I don't know."
"Right. Then maybe we shouldn't go on with this."
"It's a gamble, Aili. We'll do everything in our power and hope for the best."
"You're not hoping for the best."
He pushed viss out. That activated the holders sewn on the inside of his tunic, which in turn pushed the viss they contained through another string into his body. He could feel the burning sensation fade away. Laius had focused on the mysterious object and the insane quantity of viss it had contained, dismissing the viss on his tunic as mere staining. He hadn't even thought to check the purple pattern, taking for granted it was the one for heat. Another gamble.
Rabam hadn't noticed that his eyes were already open until his sight started to return. He saw an empty room, two sentinels, and a sword held up high, aimed at his head.
He raised his arm and activated the pattern on the inside of his right sleeve. The weapon lurched away from the sentinel. The moment of surprise was enough for him to sit up and grab the falling weapon. He swung it at the other sentinel, who was just standing there, stunned. He hit her in the shin with the pommel, then punched the back of her head. She fell unconscious.
Rabam finally felt well enough to stand. The sentinel he had disarmed was already running toward the door. Rabam delivered a cut to his leg with the blade and tried to knock him unconscious. The sentinel managed to avoid his blow, kicking him in the stomach in turn. He opened the door. Rabam had to stop him: the abbot would know what was happening the moment someone stepped too far from the room, then everything would have been pointless.
He threw away the sword and jumped at the sentinel. He managed to clutch his legs and drag him back enough to gain access to his face. He didn't try to attack him, since he seemed capable of defending himself. Instead, he pressed his hand on his face and activated the holders, pushing as much viss out as needed until he finally fell unconscious.
He stood in the now silent room. It was exactly as he imagined it: empty, except for a metal trapdoor at the center, a pole planted next to it to tie a thick rope. Except there was no rope.
He still felt his head heavy with the venom's influence, but he stopped pushing viss into the holders. He needed every spark of it for what came next.
He knelt down on the floor and pulled the trapdoor's handle until it moved. He expected the deepest darkness below, a chamber so big it would swallow him whole before he ever found the strength to jump in.
Instead, there was light, brighter than the sun, but much closer. Even averting his eyes did nothing to protect him. He let the trapdoor fall back in place and blinked until his eyes weren't burning anymore.
He walked over to the second sentinel and cut his tunic off with the sword, then wrapped the cloth around his forehead, where he could comfortably pull it down when needed. He walked back to the trapdoor and opened it again.
"Let's say everything works out exactly as you're imagining it: how do you think you're going to come back out?"
"I guess I'll find a way once I'm there. It depends on what it contains, right?"
"I just think you're going to die on impact. I hope they capture you and put you in prison again, so at least you’ll be safe.”
"I just need to time everything right."
He stuck the sword in between the pole and the open trapdoor, tugging to make sure it was stable. He walked back to the unconscious sentinels and patted their pockets until he found the keys to the room. He dragged them out, piling up their bodies right in front of the entrance, then locked himself in.
The only thing left was the jump. He lowered the cloth over his eyes, and even then it was barely enough to make the light bearable. He made a few steps backward, then closed his eyes tight and walked forward, only thinking about Mili.
The fall took him by surprise. He activated the holders again as he went down. Too early and he'd run out of the viss he needed to heal himself quickly enough. Too late and the impact would have killed him in an instant. There was no way to know which timing was right until he reached the bottom and found out by himself.
The impact came three seconds later. He kept pushing his viss out, but he could tell that something was off. He rolled down a pile of tough, jaggy things that battered his spine. He couldn't see anything, the light was just as intense as when he’d looked from the top.
He waited until he stopped rolling down to evaluate the damage. He hadn't expected to be still alive, so it was already a success. He tried to sit, but pain flared in his lower back, so he had to prop himself with the arm that was hurting the least. Another sharper, breathtaking pain exploded in his left leg when he attempted to move it. He tried activating the holders again, but they were empty. From that moment on, he could only count on the viss remaining inside his body. If only there had been a way to use all the energy that surrounded him.
He moved his hand around to feel the objects beneath him. He tried pulling one of them away, but they all seemed to be stuck together, so he could only move his hand along their borders. They were perfectly round, with a metallic exterior and a stone center, lines crisscrossing on the surface. It was difficult to tell without seeing them, but they seemed to be coins.