“Zereh,” he called. “I don’t think this is a good idea. Let’s just go to Sonora.”

Because at the end of the day, it didn’t matter which god it was for; they were all trouble. Oh, it would be all well and good for her to get mixed up in a god’s business, but it could easily be deadly for him. Loathe as he was to admit it, the immortals were suited to the games between gods in a way he never would be.

Naturally, she ignored him.

“Hi there!” she called to the old man. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Emrys dearly wondered what her motivation was. Did she care so little about Sven, or did she just not believe his time was running out? Or did she care about Sven, but also care more about the man on the side of the road?

“Thank heavens you’re here,” the old man said. He was a perfectly ordinary looking gentleman, his dark hair just starting to turn gray. His eyes were brown and nodescript, but there was something in his gaze that set him apart. Here was a man who could see through the illusions of the world, could break it down into its most basic elements and do whatever he pleased with the pieces. His eyes pierced deep into Emrys’s soul for a moment that lasted forever, then turned a twinkling smile in Zereh’s direction.

“I’m Greg, pleased to meet you. I’m about to complete this shrine to the Unknown God, and it just occurred to me that that might irritate the other gods who wish to lay claim to this area. You look like a brave, strong warrior. Would you defend me and my shrine as I put on the finishing touches?”

Zereh surveyed the shrine. It wasn’t much to look at compared to the elaborate altars she’d seen in the city, but there was an undeniable gravity to it. The shrine was a waist-high tower constructed of plain gray stone, the kind that could have come from anywhere. What was impressive about it wasn’t the stone itself but the ancient carvings inlaid upon it that hinted at deep, secret meanings.

“Which gods would we be defending against?” Zereh asked.

Emrys couldn’t believe she was actually considering this. No, it was worse than that. She was choosing to put herself directly in between two known, powerful deities in order to entangle herself with a god of completely unknown power and potential, and Emrys could absolutely believe she was considering it.

“It won’t be us defending,” Emrys interjected before Greg could answer her question. They both turned to him, Zereh with annoyance and Greg with curiosity. “I don’t want any part in this.”

“No pressure, my boy, it’s entirely your decision,” Greg said congenially. “But if you don’t mind, would you tell me why not?”

Zereh flashed a startled look at the old man, then seemed to decide she’d like to hear the answer as well.

He nearly faltered under their combined stare. “We need to find Sven. He’s out there, and he needs me. He’s needed me for a long time, and I was blind to it.” When he looked at Zereh, his gaze was pleading. “I can’t let him down now.”

For a moment her eyes softened. He thought he was getting through to her, but it didn’t last. Her face hardened once more into the expressionless mask she’d worn when they first met.

“We’ll get to him when we get to him,” she said. “First, we do this.”

Emrys swallowed hard, doing his best not to let his disappointment show and failing miserably. “Find me in Sonora,” he said. “I’ll start the investigation without you.”

He spun on his heel– or tried to –and found that he couldn’t move. Below the neck, he was completely paralyzed. His eyes bulged, rolling until they landed on Greg. The old man was watching him with unrbidled fascination.

“What the hell have you done to me, old man?!”

Greg held up his hands. “Nothing at all, I swear it.”

Zereh’s cool gaze didn’t hold even a flicker of surprise. “I’ve accepted this quest as party leader,” she explained. “So long as you’re in my party, you cannot abandon our quest. Nor can you continue a quest without me.”

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“Then make me party leader,” Emrys growled. “Let me go!”

She shook her head. “It wouldn’t make a difference. It’s because I’m an immortal, not because I’m the leader.”

Greg looked impressed. “However did you discover that?”

.Zereh spared him a glance. “That’s none of your concern.”

“I’ll leave the party, then. You can add me back in when you get to Sonora.”

“If you leave the party, it will be for good.”

“What?”

“If you leave this party,” she repeated slowly, “I will not invite you back in when I get to Sonora.”

Emrys stared. In the short time since they had met, he had known her to be stoic and gruff but also kind. She worked harder to hide her compassion then she did her annoyance, as though kindness were a weakness she could feel but never show.

Never would he have expected her to be cruel, and that was what this felt like: cruelty. She was asking - no, demanding - that he choose between his friend’s life and his own. That he risk not just his life but his future as well. Gods didn’t let you rest once you fulfilled their first task. There would always be a follow-up, or a retaliation from a rival deity. The shrine wasn’t just a shrine, it was a gateway into a realm he wasn’t capable of surviving. It was a death sentence she was asking him to sign.

“Why?” he asked. He looked at her like he might find the truth in her eyes.

She didn’t flinch. “If you want to be in my party, I need to know I can count on you to be there, wherever our quests take us. In the same way that you need to be able to trust and rely on me, I need to rely on you. I can’t do that if you’re going to abandon me at every quest that’s a little outside your comfort zone.”

The arcanist considered that. In truth, she was asking for the same level of loyalty and accountability that he had already asked of her. If he could trust her, if they could trust each other, that could be the foundation of a party that lasted beyond this quest. It was the sort of partnership he had been longing for, for longer than he could remember. He had expected to find it in Sven, but his friend had turned to healing rather than fighting.

The paralysis vanished as soon as he made his decision. He took a step closer to Greg.

“What is it you need to finish your shrine?”

The man grinned. “Not much is known about the Unknown God. As you can imagine.” He chuckled. It was the unselfconscious laugh of a man who held on to a well-worn joke for his own amusement, long used to the blank stares of his humorless companions. “Ah. But what we do know is, he loved Midnight Silk flowers. They used to be plentiful in these lands, but nowadays can only be found at the tallest peak of the Whistling Mountains. The finishing touch of this altar will be three Midnight Silk flowers, one for each point of the triangle.” Greg gestured at three holes in the top of the shrine. The stem of the Midnight Silk flower would go in the hole, and the blossom would keep it from falling through.

“Those mountains are at least three days travel from here!” Emrys exclaimed.

Greg clasped his hands and nodded. “Yes. I won’t be able to make the journey myself. Please, brave warriors, bring me these flowers.”

“Let me get this straight.” Emrys could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. “You’re aware that the Unknown God likes Midnight Silk flowers. You came out here specifically to make a shrine for him that was designed to include Midnight Silk flowers. But you didn’t bring any Midnight Silk flowers?!”

Greg just looked at him with a quizzical smile. “My dear boy,” he said, “I suspected I would find an adventurer along the way who could assist me.”

The old man’s calm was infuriating, but his words did make an odd sort of sense. When Emrys thought back on it, he could recall many instances where his friends or family would end up somewhere missing a key ingredient. All would seem lost until an adventurer inevitably walked by, willing to run the errand. He had even done it himself on occasion. Only, he’d never thought about it because he’d never been interrupted on his way to something else. He’d never been the one to run the errand.

“Zereh, please.” He turned to the warrior. “I’ll help you with this quest, I swear it. But let us do it after we rescue Sven.”

She cocked her head. “If I say no, will you threaten to leave again?”

“No.” Emrys squared his shoulders. “But if Sven dies because we were delayed, I’ll never forgive you.”

The stoic woman considered his words. “However long it takes to reach him, we cannot change his fate, not really. His mother understands that, but for whatever reason you refuse to.” She tapped her lips thoughtfully. “I’ll prove it to you, I think. We’ll take this quest first.”

Emrys gritted his teeth, but he was a man of his word. There was a part of him that regretted ever teaming up with Zereh, but that part was drowned out by the memory of nearly dying in the dungeon. He needed her. He owed her.

“Fine. Let’s go find these flowers.”

“That’s the spirit,” Zereh grinned. “You know, I do recall spending time in those mountains on my way over here. And as it happens, I’m a bit of a hoarder. I picked up these flowers just in case they might be useful someday.” She rummaged through her bag for a moment and pulled out an entire bouquet of Midnight Silks. Their stems were such pure black that the color erased their texture. The petals seemed to erupt from nothing, and they were a glittering, rainbow white that was too bright to focus on.

There was magic in those flowers. Emrys could sense it wafting out like a scent. It was a light, playful magic, but beyond that the arcanist couldn’t discern its exact nature.

The old man laughed and clapped his hands in delight. “Wonderful! A true adventurer is always prepared.”