Barnum’s eyes went wide as he opened the door and saw Callan standing there, an unconscious Rictee over his shoulder. “Honored yeth?”
“Enough with the act, Barnum. You said we could use your basement to store cultists. I’m calling in that offer.”
“You mean—?” The middle-aged yeth stepped aside to allow Callan entry, glancing at Rictee curiously as they passed. “I—I was friends with his father when we were children! Octar was always one of the mayor’s most loyal supporters! What could have happened to turn his son against us?”
“Times change, I guess.” Callan glanced around, wondering where the entrance to this basement was, and if it had stairs. He didn’t think Rictee could handle being dropped to the bottom if a ladder was involved.
“This way, Avatar, please.” Barnum motioned him forward. His wife poked her head from a nearby doorway, and he turned and made a shooing motion. “Back to bed, Moas. Actually, no. Get dressed and fetch the mayor. I imagine she’ll want to speak with our new guest.”
“Not until I’ve had a turn with him,” Callan said darkly. The yeth glanced at him nervously, but he remained silent. Let the man draw what conclusions from that statement he wanted.
The basement did, indeed, have a short flight of stairs. It was also little more than a hollowed-out hole in the ground, with a tiny window in one corner too small to climb through, and several jars upon a shelf cut into the dirt.
“Best get those out of here,” Callan said, indicating the jars. “Wouldn’t want anything to get broken.”
Barnum nodded. Gathering up the jars, he began to retreat, only stopping as Callan called after him, “Oh, and leave the lantern.”
Setting it on the ground, the middle-aged yeth retreated, leaving Callan alone with his prisoner.
He stared down at Rictee, who was still out cold. “Guess we know why he was questioning us the other day, huh?”
Indeed. It seems he wished to confirm the rumors his god had been told about our priests. The only question that remains now is, by who?
“I’d like to know the answer to that question, too. Anyone who’s in on the secret about Kivi should know about me as well.” Yet Rictee had seemed genuinely surprised by what Callan could do tonight. That didn’t strike him as an act. For whatever reason, his presence in the village remained a secret.
Barnum returned, staggering under the weight of a metal bucket. “I brought some water. Thought it might help rouse our... guest.”
He refused to look at Rictee as he handed over the bucket. Callan hefted it with one hand, then glanced at the man. “You want to be here for the interrogation?”
The middle-aged yeth shuddered at the word ‘interrogation’. “Not particularly.”
“Then best scamper off. Go keep an eye out for the mayor.”
Once Barnum had retreated, the basement door clicking closed behind him, Callan unceremoniously overturned the bucket above Rictee’s head.
The cultist sat up, spluttering. “Wha—?”
Before he had a chance to get anymore out, Callan activated his dispensation. This time he burned three Conviction to shut down all of the priest’s powers. That only left him with a single point to use in an emergency, but better not to give Rictee any sense of false hope.
“Don’t try using your bounties, they’re useless to you now.”
“I—I know. They shouldn’t have worked in the first—” The cultist glanced at Callan, seemed to realize who he was talking to, and immediately clammed up. Callan gave him a tight grin.
“Alright, start talking. Where is Veritas hiding? Who else in this village is a priest? Where’s your temple?”
“That’s—I’m not going to tell you anything.” Rictee crossed his arms, his look of defiance was only slightly ruined by the sudden quiver that ran through him. What happened to the overly chatty yeth back in the fields? Callan was getting a little tired of all this duplicity.
“I think you will,” he said, summoning Mountainform.
Rictee shifted backwards a bit but didn’t retreat further. “You don’t scare me. That might work on the lesser races, but yeth don’t go around hurting each other.”
Callan leaned in close, then held up a stone encrusted hand. He wriggled his fingers—all five of them. “Good thing I’m not a yeth, then.”
The man’s eyes went wide. He opened his mouth to speak.
“Well, that is an interesting bit of information to learn.” Belinda said as she descended the steps, Radavan a step or two above her. Somehow Callan hadn’t even heard the door above open. “Though I suppose it does explain an inconsistency or two.”
“Mayor. Nice of you to join us.” Callan grabbed Rictee by the head. The yeth let out a shriek of terror. “My coworker and I were just having a friendly chat. You were about to tell me all of your dirty little secrets, weren’t you, Rictee?”
“How very droll. Release the cultist, Avatar.”
“Why should I?” Callan said. He gave Rictee a little squeeze, just enough to make his point. The yeth whimpered. “All this bullshit about being better than the other races isn’t getting you anywhere. I think it’s time we try a different approach.”
“Avatar. Your high priestess promised you would only use the threat of violence, not actual violence. You promised.”
“Yeah, well a promise built on fucking lies doesn’t count for much.” Callan maintained eye contact with Rictee. He could see each individual bead of sweat dripping down the man’s brow.
“Lies? What are you talking about?”
Now Callan did face the mayor. “Oh, I don’t know, Belinda. Maybe we start with your son? Did you know that he’s the leader of the very opposition you’re trying to stamp out around here? I caught him and his little bridge buddies out in the woods, meeting with one of Veritas’s croneys. This one.” He gave Rictee a shake.
“That’s—” Belinda paused, then started again. “Of course I knew. Who do you think instructed him to infiltrate their little committee? It was the best way to keep an eye on their movements and make sure they didn’t get up to any trouble.”
She’s lying, Xeph grumbled. Look at her face. She was as surprised by that revelation as we were.
Callan didn’t respond, not wanting to give anything away, but he’d already figured out as much. If the mayor had known about the after-hours meetings in the woods, she’d have mentioned it. Especially if they were meeting with cultists on the regular.
Either Belinda was playing him in some even more complicated plot, or she simply hadn’t known her own son had turned against her.
“Please.” Rictee’s voice cut into Callan’s musings. “I don’t know anything! I’ve never seen one of my fellow priests without their mask, and we always meet in a different location. I’ve never even gotten to see our temple, if one even exists! Please, believe me!”
“Give me one reason I should,” Callan said. He lifted Rictee up until the man was dangling by his toes.
“I swear! I don’t know anything! Please!!!”
“Avatar, could I speak with you privately?” Belinda crossed her arms. “Upstairs?”
“Fine.” Callan let Rictee drop to the floor. The cultist let out a groan as he landed but seemed otherwise unharmed. He followed the mayor and her son upstairs.
Barnum and his wife were sitting around their kitchen table. Belinda flicked a finger at them. “Outside. Now.”
“But it’s the middle of the night—” Moas began, then cut off as the mayor turned on her. Without another word, the couple scurried out into the dark, closing the door behind them with a soft click.
Belinda rounded on Callan. “Don’t you ever try something like that with one of my people again.”
“Oh, c’mon, I wasn’t actually going to hurt him. He just needed a little fear to get him talking.”
“And how was I to know you weren’t actually going to hurt him? It seems we’re not the only ones with secrets. So, if you’re not yeth, then what are you?”
Callan glowered at her. “That’s hardly the main issue right now. You asked me to capture cultists, so that’s what I’ve been doing—capturing cultists. Isn’t that what you wanted when you sent your little list over?”
“I wanted you to do as promised. Remove this other avatar from my plateau. Not threaten my people. Leave questioning Rictee up to me. I’ve known the boy his entire life. His father, too. If he has any secrets to be pried out of him, I’ll get to the bottom of it.”
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“Oh, and how do you intend to go about that? By staring him to death?” Callan threw up his hands.
“My methods are my own concern. You simply focus on the task ahead of you. Go back to the guest house. Get some sleep. Tomorrow is what matters, not...” Belinda gestured toward the basement door. “...This.”
They stared at each other for a moment, the tension in the room thick as syrup. Finally, Callan turned away. “Whatever. So long as you honor your agreement, I guess we can do things your way, Mayor.”
He marched out the back door, slamming it behind him.
Outside, Barnum and Moas were milling about aimlessly. They rushed over at his appearance. “Is it safe to return inside?”
In response, Callan held a finger up to his lips. He moved over to the nearest window. It had its shutters up, but he managed to insert a finger and pull them aside, allowing the light from within to spill out into the yard.
Belinda’s voice came from inside, clearly audible now. “Of all the foolish—what were you thinking, boy?”
“Our future,” Radavan replied. “My future, and my son’s. You won’t be alive forever, mother. Who will protect us when we’re gone?”
“You... be glad I was already planning to pass the reins to your sister when my time comes, because you certainly would have been out of the running now! Butcher’s bloody backside, first Rym, and now this. I seem to be cursed by useless children.”
“You don’t mean that, mother. I’ve only been doing what I thought was right for everyone.” Radavan sighed, then let out a snort. “And seriously, Alyssa? Let’s not make jokes we can’t take back. I love my sister, but she’s as timid as a townmouse. The village would eat her alive as mayor.”
“You may be right on that front, boy, but what choice do you leave me? It seems I can’t even trust my own flesh and blood anymore!”
Callan let the shutter drop back in place. He doubted the occupants inside noticed, and at this point he didn’t really care if they did. Turning to the awaiting couple, he nodded. “Alright, you can probably go back in now.”
As they hurried past him, he set off trudging through the dark. This evening had taken several unexpected turns, but at least they had some leverage against Veritas now. He couldn’t say it had been a total waste of time. Just most of one.
Human? There is something you should know.
Callan sighed. He really couldn’t take any more surprises tonight. Yet he forced himself to ask anyway. “And what’s that, Xeph?”
Belinda. I noticed while we were in there that she is no longer amongst our faithful. It appears we found our traitor.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
----------------------------------------
It took all of his willpower not to march back there and kick in Barnum’s front door. To give the mayor a piece of his mind, especially after all her talk about keeping promises.
But on some level, he recognized he was growing too close to the problem. He needed to focus on what was important, and in that matter, Belinda had the right of it. Dealing with Veritas tomorrow took precedence, even over him finally reaching the second tier.
In the morning he would speak with Kivi, and let her handle the errant mayor. He would have his hands full enough as it was trying to track down that temple.
Amazingly, sleep came easily, even with everything currently occupying his brain. When he awoke the next morning to sunlight streaming through his window, it took a moment for his groggy brain to realize the implications of that.
“Crap!” He flung his blankets away and sat up.
“Do you always awake with such colorful epithets?” Kivi asked. She took a sip from a mug and set it on the table next to a waiting breakfast. Callan blinked at her.
“High Priestess?”
“As far as I know, yes. Unless Xeph has seen fit to strip me of the title.”
“No, I meant—” He shook his head. “What are you doing here?”
“Watching you sleep, mostly. After that yeth boy attempted twice to wake you, I felt it prudent to stand guard personally. You’ll need your rest for today, after all.”
He sat up. “I will, but probably not for the reasons you’re thinking. After all, I’m only going to be talking with Veritas, not fighting them.”
“Do not be so sure. If experience has taught me anything, it is that our plans rarely turn out how we wish them to.”
Callan couldn’t help but laugh at that. When Kivi looked at him in confusion, he waved her concern away. “I’ll explain in a minute. Pass me that plate, would you? I’m famished.”
In between bites of food, he recounted everything that had happened since they last talked. At first Kivi merely listened, but when he revealed what Xeph had told him about Belinda, her face darkened.
“I knew that yeth woman was hiding something. Everything about our negotiations went far too easily.”
“Yeah, but what I want to know is: why? What does she gain by not maintaining her faith to Xeph?”
“That is precisely what I intend to find out.” Kivi rose from her seat. “If you’ll excuse me, Avatar, I intend to find the mayor and get to the bottom of this matter. Really, that woman! While her son’s duplicitousness doesn’t surprise me, this... Hmmph.”
With that, the high priestess marched out into the village, leaving the door open behind her.
Callan continued to work on his breakfast, taking his time and drawing what enjoyment from the experience he could. They’d have work enough to deal with soon.
On that note... “Hey, Xeph, any ideas about where we should start looking for this temple?”
Hmm. It will be somewhere near where we fought the yeth last night. While the domain range can vary based upon what choices went into the temple’s development, it would be unusual for it to have a reach larger than one hundred yards prior to being upgraded. Which is not possible until the fourth tier.
“Okay, so something out in the fields or in one of the houses near the edge of town.” He tapped at his chin a moment. “Probably the houses. If it was out in the open, I think someone would have noticed.”
“Noticed what?”
Callan glanced up and saw Lisson standing in the doorway. He smiled and waved the yeth boy inside.
“Sorry, just ruminating with my head-mate about today’s planned activities.”
Human... how am I even supposed to go about translating ‘head-mate’???
Ignoring the god’s squawking, he asked, “So what brings you here?”
“Well, at first, I came to wake you up, but when nobody responded I returned to the fields. My father told me not to bother you today, that you needed to ‘prepare’, whatever that means. So obviously I came back to see if I could help.”
The boy’s earnestness brought a smile to Callan’s face. “As much as I’d love some help, this is probably something Xeph and I need to do ourselves. Unless you happen to know where some mysterious hidden temple might be in the village.”
He chuckled to himself, only to stop when he noticed Lisson’s expression. “What?”
“I... actually do know where a temple is hidden in the village.” The boy looked to one side, as if embarrassed.
“Wait, really?” It couldn’t be that easy, could it?
“Please don’t tell my father!” the boy blurted out. Then, seeming to realize the ridiculousness of what he'd just said, a blush shot up his face. "It's just... I was exploring around, and I found something. I didn’t know what it was, exactly. I guess I still don’t. Might be it’s not a temple after all. But if you’re looking for something hidden in the village, I can take you to it.”
Hmm. Seems as good a lead as any, Xeph mused. And it is certainly a better option than forcing our way into villagers’ homes.
“Yeah, we’d definitely get in trouble for doing that. Alright, Lisson, lead on.”
They headed out the door, the yeth boy taking him in the direction of the village square. As they walked, Callan asked, “So what did this place look like?”
“Well, it was a big room, and it had a table in it filled with jars. Ooh, and the table has a cloth covered in magic symbols! That sounds like it could be an altar, right?”
It sounds like it could be someone’s canning room, Xeph noted dryly. Callan suppressed an urge to laugh, lest the yeth boy get the wrong idea.
“And you really never mentioned it to anyone?”
“Nope?”
“How come?”
Lisson stopped and turned to look at Callan. “If you found a mysterious secret room in your village, would you tell anyone?”
“Good point,” Callan said with a grin. They started walking again.
The boy led them through the village square, past the smithy, and to the back of the trading post. He stopped at a set of shuttered doors set into the ground near the building’s back. “Here it is. Let me just...”
He stuck an arm through a small crack in the foundation, felt around a moment, and pulled back as something clattered inside. Callan tried one of the doors and found it opened easily. A small wooden bar lay on the inside.
“Is there another entrance to this place?” he asked. Why else would there be a bar on the inside?
“I don’t think so. You’ll see for yourself in a moment.” Lisson padded down the stairs into the darkness below. Callan hesitated a moment before following. He could feel not only his own uncertainties, but Xeph’s as well.
Mortal, I am unsure about this. We are much too far away for any temple to have reached the priest last night.
“Well, maybe your estimate was just wrong, Xeph.” Steeling himself, Callan ducked under a low hanging beam, then stepped into the room beyond.
Perhaps... The god, however, did not sound particularly certain.
Callan didn’t pay his partner much mind, though, as his attention was drawn to their immediate surroundings. The basement room was just barely visible from the light leaking in behind them, showing a murky space no more than twenty feet across in any direction. Just as Lisson had said, there were no other entrances. Not even windows.
“Geez, why didn’t Falchion volunteer this place as a prison? The atmosphere is more fitting.”
Probably because it is too close to the town center. Any priests down here would feel their avatar’s presence easily.
“Yeah, I got that. Just making an amusing quip.” Seriously, why did he bother wasting his best material like that? He shook his head in self-recrimination.
By now, Callan’s eyes had begun to adjust to the murk. It was then he saw it.
“Okay, yeah, that’s definitely an altar.”
“Really?” Lisson asked. “How can you tell?”
“You just get a feel for these things when you’re an avatar.”
You’ve seen one other altar in your time as my avatar. How does that in any way let you get a feel for sensing another?
“Quiet, Xeph.” Callan stepped forward.
That said, you are right, this is an altar. Together, they stared down at the table, covered in a piece of blue cloth. Callan rubbed it between his fingertips, feeling how soft it was.
Veloomian silk, Xeph confirmed.
Besides the cloth, which were covered in symbols that he couldn’t make sense of, there were also several unlit candles, and perhaps a half-dozen jars, just like Lisson had said.
Still, even with Xeph’s assurances, there was one surefire way to confirm his suspicions. Callan set a hand on the table’s surface.
Alert: Foreign temple detected. Beginning desecration...
Conviction: 1/5
Conviction: 0/5
Error: Insufficient Conviction to fully corrupt this temple. Please restore Conviction and attempt again.
Dangit, I’m starting to regret wasting all that Conviction on Rictee. It had seemed prudent at the time, but now, staring at the message in front of him, it felt like an extravagant waste. They didn’t have the week it would take him to regenerate his supply, not with Veritas arriving in only a few hours!
Mortal, look there. Do you see what I see?
Callan turned, and at first, he didn’t. After all, there was no way he was that damn lucky. Not in a million years. He had better odds of his cancer miraculously curing itself and winning the lotto in the same day.
Because next to the altar was a sack absolutely overflowing with memory shards.
He scooped up a handful and tossed them down his throat. Immediately a message appeared in his vision, confirming the restoration of his Conviction.
“Alright, time for corruption round two.” He rolled up his sleeves. With Lisson watching excitedly, he started lowering his hand towards the altar.
“STOP!!! You’ll kill us all, you fool!” The cry from behind them froze Callan in place. Turning, he glanced over his shoulder.
Silhouetted in the sunlight outside stood Belinda, hands on her hips, glowering down at them.
Ah, Xeph said.