The Grotto proved easy enough to find, since the lanterns led the way. The trail led to a large cavern, in the center of which lay a cloudy greenish pool. Its still waters reflected the light all around and twinkling crystals overhead.

Beyond the pool sat a dark, low entryway.

If there’d been any doubt that I arrived, I got two subtle pointers. First, Kharon’s thought in my brain:

<<<<>>>>

* Objective complete: Locate the Grotto

* Speak to residents of the sector (complete)

* Explore the sector (35% complete)

* Find a map to lead you to the Grotto (failed)

* Quest giver: self, new arrival and wayward soul

<<<<>>>>

Second, Williamson’s hiss. “There it is. The Grotto.”

I nodded, but didn’t move. I wasn’t superstitious, exactly. I didn’t really believe in the gods. I mean, I believed in them insofar as I knew that at least some of them existed.

Salvidora, for starters.

But I’d never thought of the gods of the Realms in the same light as I thought of the various gods back home.

Back home, holy war of one stripe or another had been humanity’s byword for the last few thousand years. But in the Realm, no one killed anyone over which god they did or didn’t believe in, or how they believed in the same god. No one considered anyone else’s god fake, or somehow both fake and a threat to their own god at the same time.

On the contrary, in the Realm, it didn’t matter which god you prayed to. They were all real. It didn’t matter if you preferred one over the other. No one was going to kill you, or shun you, or exile you for having a different favorite.

And somehow, I’d taken that lackadaisical approach as a kind of judgement value. Sure, the gods might technically be real, but were they worth killing over?

Then they couldn’t be that big a deal after all, could they? Powerful sorcerers or mages, maybe. Maybe even immortal. But not that big a deal.

Staring at the pitch-black entrance to the grotto, I shivered. It really was a messed up way of looking at things. Now, standing here, the gods of the Realm felt very real.

Terrifyingly real.

Or maybe that was the pool, and the cold, somewhat dank air that wafted across its tranquil surface. Maybe that’s why I felt an icy shiver crawling up my spine.

“Well?” Williamson demanded, and I jumped.

“What?”

“Are you going in? Or are you just staring?”

“I’m going in,” I said. And didn’t move.

“Any time this century?”

I shot the old man an annoyed look. “What’s it to you, anyway?”

“I’ve got my own prayers to say.”

“So?”

“So, I’m going to wait ‘til you’re out. Give you privacy. Plus, I don’t want to be in the way should Lady Salvidora decide to put you down.”

“Gee, thanks.”

He bared his half-missing teeth in a grim grin. “Happy to oblige. Now, get.”

I shook my head and started to move.

“Oh. One more thing. The water here? Don’t drink it. In fact, don’t touch it if you can help. There’s things in there – things you don’t want nowhere near yourself.”

Leaving Williamson on the far bank, I kept my distance from the pool. Now and then, I thought I saw something just under the surface. But whenever I turned to look at it, the impression had vanished.

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Just imagination, I told myself. And fervently hoped that was true.

The grotto entrance was low enough that I had to crouch to get in, and the room pitch black behind it.

For a long moment, I stood still, letting my eyes adjust. The room, I saw, wasn’t quite so dark as I’d thought. A little light filtered in behind me, and it managed to highlight a few details around me.

The grotto was smallish, but with a high ceiling. A crystal altar lay in the center of the room, and bits of debris lay around it.

Only as I approached did I realize that the debris was actually offerings – well-worn items and shreds of fabric torn from clothes, and the odd bit of vegetation.

Which presented my first quandary. I hadn’t brought an offering, and while I had my bag of holding and everything I’d carried from life, I didn’t mean to part with any of it.

This led to my second difficulty. What exactly did one say to an angry goddess?

My experience with religion back on Earth didn’t seem particularly applicable here. There were no preachers, no tithe boxes, no pews or choir.

Just a weird, sparkly altar, and a room that echoed every time I moved.

I took a long, deep breath. This was a new situation, and that meant I had to adapt accordingly. Which, I could do.

Clearing my throat, I called, “Hello?”

My voice echoed up, up, up to a faraway ceiling, and then back down to me.

“Uh…Salvidora? It’s me. Kaej. Jake. I, uh, wanted to talk to you. If I could.”

No answer. That, at least, was familiar. I felt my confidence ebb slowly back.

“Listen, I’m sorry about how things are with us.”

Still, no answer.

I decided to be more direct. “I’m sorry I stole from you.”

The altar blazed with a sparkling golden light, and a voice rumbled through the room. “Liar.”

Shit. “No. I am. Really.”

The altar started to crackle. Sparks flew off, and hot, angry air swirled around it. “If you were sorry, you would surrender the knowledge you stole.”

She had me there. I wasn’t that sorry, but I was sorry that I’d pissed her off. “I…I need that. But – look, I should have done things differently. Bartered for it, instead of stolen it.”

The altar went on crackling, louder than ever. Slowly, a figure emerged from the altar. A translucent figure, shimmering and golden. Kind of hot, in a ghostly way. Okay, so I’m not blind. Ghost or not, the hourglass figure was hard to miss.

“Yes,” she said. “You should have. But you didn’t.”

“No,” I said. “That’s why I’m here. To apologize.” The vortex surrounding her flared at that, so I hastened to add, “And to see if there’s something I can do. You know, to make up for it.”

She stretched out a tiny, ghostly hand. “Surrender your stolen knowledge.”

“I can’t do that,” I said. “I need it to survive. But – look, I’m willing to work with you here. You want me to be a devotee or something? Spread the good work of Salvidora? I can do that, once I get back.”

I thought of the weird street preachers back home, screaming about end times and the devil. Never figured I’d be one of them, but if that’s what it took to keep from plummeting to my death or extreme discomfort? I could sacrifice a few weekends a month to talk about a hot goddess.

She threw her head back, and a deep, roaring laugh echoed around the room, louder and louder. Longer and longer.

“You? You think I require your worship? Fool of a mortal. I am Salvidora, the Lady of Night. Mistress of the Shadow. Keeper of the Secrets. Watcher of the Unwatched. I do not need your half-hearted worship.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling a bit deflated. “Well, uh, do you want tithes?” I didn’t want to give up my gold, but desperate times, and all that.

“If I did, I should be insulted by what little you have to offer.”

“Ouch.”

“I know why you are here,” she said. “You desire to leave this place. And you think that if you steal the Cloak of Kharon, you will be more likely to succeed.”

“Yes,” I admitted. “And I need you to lift the curse so I can do it without getting caught.”

“You should have thought of that before you robbed me.”

How I could have anticipated a dread sorcerer raising an undead army, betrayal at the hands of priests and Jackoff, and all the rest of the madness that had led to my being here, I couldn’t imagine. But I didn’t argue with her.

“I can’t change that. And if I’m going to succeed in getting the cloak, I need to keep my stealth stat. But – I’m willing to make it up to you. Whatever you need. If you don’t want tithes or worship, well, I’m open to suggestions.”

“As always, you are motivated solely by self-interest. Your talk of apology is as hollow as your character. As empty as your purse.”

I tried not to take offense at that. “That’s not entirely true. My purse isn’t that empty. And yes, I am motivated by self-interest. But it’s not just about me. If I don’t get to Chucky Boy –”

Her golden brow wrinkled. “Who?”

“King Charles. If I don’t get him out of here, the Realm falls. At least, that’s what the priests say, and I’ve got to believe they know something. And they tell me, without him, the Sorcerer takes over. All of humanity dies.”

“So you’re a noble hero, saving the people?” she sneered.

“No. I’m a selfish schmuck, who needs people alive if I’m going to rob them. But – you give a shit about these people, right? You’re a goddess. That’s like your job, to look after people. So maybe our interests align. Maybe, you help a selfish schmuck like me, and I keep your people safe.”

“And then rob them?”

I shrugged. “Man’s got to eat.”

“You’re despicable.”

“Look, I’m not going to argue with you. But, what do you say? Do we have a deal – you lift this curse, and I help your people?”

“I will lift the curse,” she said in a moment.

“Great. Awesome.”

“But I will require more from you than what you were already planning.”