Four days passed without further attacks by the cult.
----------------------------------------
“Aha!” Callan muttered under his breath. He peeked between the stalks from where he lay ensconced and watched as Torveld glanced around furtively before pulling open the doors to his basement. “I knew the bastard was hiding something down there.”
You did? Then why have we wasted the last several days observing instead of simply kicking the doors down? The irritation in Xeph’s voice could have ground a boulder to dust.
“Uh, maybe because we needed a little something called ‘probable cause’? Just because the mayor thinks this guy is a cultist doesn’t give us the right to go snooping inside his house.”
As opposed to watching the house from outside, like we’ve been doing, Xeph noted dryly. Then he added, Also, what is this ‘probable cause’ you speak of?
“Look, it’s not like we’ve been watching just this guy,” Callan said, ignoring the god’s question. “Heck, I bet half the reason it took this long to catch him in the act was because we kept getting pulled away to investigate somebody else.”
He ground his teeth in frustration. The last four days had been an utter waste. At least when it came to spying on the townsfolk.
Still, it’s not as if—
“Shh, he’s coming back out!”
The yeth can’t hear me, mortal, only your incessant chatter—
“SHH!”
*Sigh* But at least Xeph stopped talking after that, which Callan counted as a win.
Together they watched Torveld exit his cellar, glance around again to ensure he was unobserved, then close the doors behind him. He secured a lock into place before setting off towards the fields.
Callan didn’t move until the yeth was several minutes gone from view. Then he stood up and started stalking over to the house as casually as he could.
Would you just walk normal? Xeph groused. You aren’t some villain in a two-bit play. If the village doesn’t know what you’re up to already, they will after hearing you break that lock.
“Good thing for both you and them that I’m not intending to break it at all.” He walked past the basement door and around the corner. Here he stopped.
At his feet was a boulder, mostly submerged in the dirt. It was close enough that it pressed against the foundation and—Callan hoped—extended down to the basement level.
Only one way to find out. He activated Shape Stone.
Alert: 6.25% Apotheosis used.
Total Apotheosis is at 6.25%
Temporarily liquified stone flowed in either direction, forming two small humps at his feet. The piles kept building until light shone out of the hole. Callan got on his hands and knees and peered inside.
“Yep, that’s a basement, alright. Luckily it doesn’t appear to be of the torture dungeon variety.”
What?
“Never mind.”
The hole he had didn’t give him much of a view yet, just a pile of old farm tools and the wall behind them, so he used a second Shape Stone to enlarge the hole enough to get his head fully inside.
Most of the basement was what he would have expected: farming equipment, a few crates and sacks presumably filled with foodstuffs, and a shelf containing earthenware jars.
But in the corner by the door there was something else—a small cage, with a lantern set beside it. The lantern light flickered irregularly, leading Callan to thinking it might be filled with those same wispflies he and the others had once used for their nighttime training.
And inside the cage, a small lump twitched. It was roughly the size of a child.
“Uh, Xeph? Ideas?”
I have none, mortal. Though it appears that whatever the yeth is up to in their basement, it does not relate to the cult. We should seal it up and move on.
“Hey, I’m not quite ready to make that call just yet. Besides, if we ignore another potential problem in favor of dealing with Veritas, what kind of person would we be?”
The kind that does not let distractions keep them from their goals.
“Damn, Xeph, that’s cold. What if that’s somebody’s kid?” He raised his voice. “Hello? Can you hear me? If so, say something.”
The lump in the cage stirred again but made no further movements or attempted to respond. Callan sighed.
“Fine. Be difficult, why don’t you.”
Another application of Shape Stone later and he was squeezing inside the basement, loose dirt raining down on the floor. So much for the perfect crime, but maybe he could sweep it up again before leaving.
He edged cautiously over to the cage and peered inside. His heart hammered in his chest.
Then he saw what was inside. His apprehension melted away.
“You’ve got to be friggin kidding me.” He pressed a palm to his forehead. “Xeph, could you not tell that it was a rabbit in the cage from back there?”
He stared down at the most adorable bun-bun he’d ever seen. It blinked its eyes at him, which were about half again as large as those on a terrestrial bunny. Its ears were also a bit too wide, but it had the white fur and fluffy tail of every Easter-gift-gone-wrong he’d ever seen.
Two reasons, mortal. First, because watching you wriggle through that hole was the highlight of my day. And second of all, that isn’t a rabbit. It’s a jackran.
“Rabbit, jackrabbit, same difference.” Callan peered closer. Was this thing wild? Would it freak out if he reached through the bars and tried to pet it?
Given that Torveld was keeping it as a pet, he assumed it was at least somewhat used to human contact.
Did I say jackrabbit? Xeph muttered as Callan reached a hand inside. The last time he’d pet a rabbit was at Tiffany Gleeson’s tenth birthday party. It was still the highlight of his entire fourth grade experience. I’m familiar with your earthly rabbits. They’re small herbivorous mammals, yes? Jackrans are—
“WHAT THE FUCK???” Callan fell over backward, his hand scraping painfully against the sides of the cage as he yanked it back. A line of blood ran down his arm, but he barely noticed it.
Inside the cage, the rabbit’s stomach had exploded at his touch. Coils of intestines decorated the straw-lined floor, writhing like snakes as the rabbit twitched in its death throes.
“I didn’t—that wasn’t—what in the holy ding dong heck happened? I barely touched it!”
Ah, yes, that would have been more than sufficient. Human, if you would be so kind, take about three steps back, please?
Still a little shell-shocked over having spontaneously blown up Thumper, Callan nodded and backed up until his legs encountered a grain sack. He collapsed on top of it.
Good, Xeph purred. Now, please wait.
“What for—?”
Shhh.
Callan frowned. “Are you seriously—”
Human. S. H. H. H.
How the hell did he make a staccato shushing noise? Callan wondered to himself, but he obeyed his head-mate and sat silently.
After two minutes, maybe three, the rabbit shuddered again. Callan thought it might have finally died, which just made him feel worse.
Then the rabbit’s intestines simply... retracted back inside. The rabbit twitched, sat up, and resumed hopping about its enclosure as if nothing had happened.
Callan stared until his eyes hurt. “Okay, Xeph...?”
I told you, mortal, that isn’t a rabbit. We call them jackrans. They’re insectivores, and while they bear a remarkable resemblance to your rabbits from Earth, they vary in a few small details.
“Oh, right. Small details.” Callan nodded.
For instance, their eyes and ears are designed for picking up certain low-level frequencies. They have sharper curved claws, less for digging and more for climbing trees and cliffsides.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Mmm hmm.”
Also, they can disgorge their internal organs when threatened as a means of escaping a predator.
Callan put his palm to his face. “You said small differences, Xeph. Small differences. How is that in any way small???”
Is it really that unusual? I seem to recall hearing that you had a similar creature on Earth.
“Oh, sure, in the ocean. Everything is weird there!”
Why is this bothering you so much? This is excessive, even for you, mortal.
Sighing, Callan rested his head on his knees. “I know, it’s just... I thought we really had something here, Xeph! Finally, a clue about the remaining cult members. Instead, we just find out that a villager’s big secret is a fondness for really creepy pets. I’m at my wit’s end here.”
There are still avenues we haven’t explored yet. This town holds many villagers, any of whom—
“Oh, believe me, I know. We’ve spent the last four days watching. I’ve sat and observed every man, woman, and goddamn eligible-to-make-an-oath child there is here. The only person I haven’t watched is that Ulfa lady—and that’s only because she’s too old and sick to even get out of bed!” Rising from the sack, Callan started pacing. The jackran twitched every time he approached, but luckily it didn’t explode again. “At this point, half the villagers know what I’m up to. Even if I wanted to root out the cult, I don’t think they’re going to slip up knowing that I’m out here. We need a different approach.”
Very well. What do you suggest?
“Believe me, if I knew, I’d have done it already.”
Sighing, Callan crossed the basement back to his hole. Suddenly he found that he didn’t care anymore if Torveld knew about his trespassing. Leaving the spilled dirt where it was, he squeezed through, sealed the rock in place, and stalked away.
From there, they wandered the village aimlessly. Not that there was much of it to wander, he could circle the entire place in about ten minutes. But the movement helped clear his head and made him feel as if he was accomplishing something.
At least until Xeph spoke again.
If you have given up on finding the enemy priests, perhaps it is time for another search of Veritas’s whereabouts. If we could locate their temple, it might help—
“I’m not tromping around in the woods anymore. That was a waste of three hours of my life I can’t get back.”
Then it seems to me the only avenue left to us is—
“Why would that jackran disgorge its guts like that, anyway?” Callan said, forcibly changing the subject. “Like, what possible evolutionary advantage could that even provide?”
The god sighed, but still answered his question. It is to protect them from weskers, I believe. Though after this many millennia, I imagine the relationship has become more symbiotic than anything.
“Do I even want to know what a wesker is?” Callan asked.
You’ve seen them before, mortal. Even eaten one on several occasions, I believe.
“Really? Because I feel like I’d remember eating anything that’s associated with—” Callan cut off mid-rant and dove between two buildings. He pressed himself to the wall.
Mortal? What did you see? He could feel Xeph craning his own perception inside his skull. After a moment, the god said, There is no one present but the mayor. Do you fear an attack upon them is imminent?
“The mayor is what I’m fearful of!” Callan hissed, just as Belinda passed by his hiding spot. He tensed, but she never so much as glanced in his direction, just continued marching past at a brisk pace.
Once she was out of sight, Callan relaxed. “That was close.”
Human, why are we hiding from the yeth mayor?
“Because I really don’t want to have to give a status update right now, Xeph. What are we supposed to tell her? She’s either going to be angry, or she’ll start crying again about how we’re going to leave her to face Veritas alone.”
That had been a particularly awkward dinner the other evening. Callan wasn’t sure if the tears pouring down Belinda’s face had been authentic or just another act, but either way, watching her sob into her soup while Kivi did her best to reassure her had been something of an appetite killer.
He set off walking in the opposite direction as the mayor. “I need some good news before we talk again. Things are getting desperate around here.”
So tell me again why we aren’t simply leaving and washing our hands of this entire mess? I am certain that Veritas would still allow us to depart unmolested.
“Two reasons. First, because they killed Sworv.” Callan’s expression darkened. “I’d never be able to look Paeral in the eye again, knowing his brother’s killer is still out there unpunished. We’re invested in this mess by blood now, like it or not.”
Hmm. And the second reason?
“Veritas is too dangerous to leave alive.” Callan reached the edge of town and kept walking. Maybe he would search the woods for the enemy temple after all. It would keep him busy, if nothing else. “Eventually, they’ll expand off this plateau, and then we’ll be right back to fighting him for followers, only now it’ll be worse because they’ll have a foothold. No, we need to finish this or give up on the Badlands entirely.”
The Badlands are far too large for either of you to rule them all, Xeph noted. Still, I take your point. In which case, might I suggest our next course of action?
A sudden sinking feeling curled through Callan’s stomach. “I actually changed my mind. A search through the woods for Veritas feels like just what I need right now.”
Human...
“Come on, Xeph, don’t say it.”
I think it’s time.
“Don’t you dare say it you son of a—”
It is time to resume your lessons on Wurmchain.
Callan groaned. He’d been hoping to avoid this subject at least a little longer. “Come on, Xeph, you and I both know that’s even more a waste of time than wandering in the woods.”
And yet, it is a skill that you must master if you wish to overcome this other avatar.
“I know, I know.” He really did. Mastering Wurmchain wasn’t quite as important as finding the remaining cult members, but it was a close second. And it had been on Callan’s mind ever since his last fight.
Dying because you tripped over your own weapon was not what Callan wanted on his tombstone.
Also, I think you also want to improve your skill with the weapon, even if you won’t admit it to yourself, Xeph added.
“Huh?” Callan frowned. “Why do you say that?”
Look where we are.
Callan glanced around, and realized he was standing in his usual training field. Oddly shaped rocks lay all around him, ones that had been melted and re-melted as he perfected Shape Stone’s variation.
He grinned to himself, despite everything. “Okay, fair enough.”
Shall I walk you through the breathing exercises?
“No, no. I think I have them down well enough by now.”
Exhaling, Callan emptied his mind. He activated Wurmchain.
Alert: 3.1% Apotheosis used.
Total Apotheosis is at 11.85%
Behind his closed eyes, white mist began to pool around him. Some of it glowed brighter than the rest, a difference that would have been imperceptible to him weeks ago, but which now he recognized as the physical segments of Wurmchain.
Unfortunately, manipulating his weapon required more than simply seeing the concrete parts of it. He reached out with his mind and tried to seize a strand of mist.
Just as it had every time before, it slipped through his fingers.
“Dammit! This isn’t working!”
You’ve only just started. Getting frustrated will not make this easier, Human. Relax. Allow my power to flow through you, feel it spreading at your feet, then simply reach out and harness it! Just as you have done with your other orisons.
“But my other orisons aren’t like that! Even Shape Stone is just straightforward. Close my eyes and—boom!—there’s a line connecting things. But this?” He waved his hands about. “This is chaos.”
Yet imagine how chaotic it would appear were I not filtering the information for you. Every time you attempt to manipulate Wurmchain, you get better at it. So breathe. And try again.
“I—fine. I’ll try.” Callan took a deep breath, then let his shoulders drop. The mist undulated about him, occasionally rising up high enough it almost reached his hip. He waited until a tendril did so, then reached out. Not to seize it, but to at least run his metaphorical hands over it. Get a feel for it the way he had Shape Stone’s string.
His senses touched lightly upon the mist, and the mist didn’t pull away.
Alert: 1% Apotheosis used.
Total Apotheosis is at 12.85%
“Hey, I did it! I—whoop, wait. It’s gone again.” The mist slipped through his grasp even as he tried desperately to recreate the feeling he’d just had a moment before. Callan ground his teeth. He was so close!
Again, mortal.
“Okay.” This time he’d have it, he was certain. He felt a surge of confidence like he hadn’t felt in weeks. Nothing could spoil this moment, now that he was on the verge—
“Pardon my interruption, Avatar.” To Callan’s open senses, the voice came from a swirling mass of white light off to one side. Beside it, a confused jumble of gray wriggled and writhed.
Callan opened his eyes, and saw Kivi watching him, which he’d expected. Lisson stood beside her, which he had not. He frowned at them both.
Kivi, apparently taking his expression as admonishment, gave a deep bow. “I do apologize, Avatar, I know your time is precious. But the mayor is... insistent that we go and speak with her. Immediately.”
“I can only imagine why,” Callan said flatly.
“She’s going crazy!” Lisson said, his eyes wide. “I’ve never seen her like this before. When I went into the tower to visit she was actually pulling out her hair! Is there anything you can do to help?”
“Yes, I too hope you have had better luck than I in rooting out the cult,” Kivi said. She gave him a hard look. “Otherwise, it will be time to discuss... alternative options.”
“Wish that I did, High Priestess, but Xeph and I struck out.” Callan sighed. Whatever moment of clarity he’d experienced before with Wurmchain had fled already. He let his weapon dissolve. “Lead the way.”
So this is how it ends, Xeph muttered darkly as they headed for the town square. Callan felt his guts twisting again. He tried to focus his mind elsewhere. There’d be time soon enough to dwell on their failures.
“What was up with those different colored swirls back there?” he asked. “Why is it I can see someone like Kivi, or even Lisson, but I couldn’t see Alyssa? You never did explain that properly.”
If you recall, I tried. But you were the one who told me to stop.
“Xeph, you started spouting all sorts of pseudo-magical terms right before our big fight with Veritas. I had a few other things on my mind.”
And you’re honestly telling me that you do not now?
Callan glanced over at Kivi, who was casting her eyes at the houses around them as she bit her lip. Her worry was writ large on her face. He looked away. “Let’s just say I could use the distraction.”
Very well. The reason you can see our high priestess is simple. Because I am providing a visual representation of her transcendental conduits for you.
“Wait, you gave me this speech before. I remember...” Callan wracked his brain a moment. “Yeah, it has to do with how I access my orisons, right?”
Correct. You have these same conduits inside of you. It was one of the primary reasons you were drawn to my call in the first place. Only those with sufficient transcendental nature can serve as vessels for a god.
“But... I can see Lisson, too. And he’s not a priest.”
Ah, but he was still born with these same conduits. Amongst the other elevated races, only a small percentage of them are. Somewhere around half to one percent, I would estimate, though that could have changed over the centuries. Regardless, the yeth boy possesses the potential inside himself to be an avatar one day. He would be an ideal choice for a priest when he comes of age. A god’s inner circle must always have a few such individuals ready to take on the mantle should disaster strike the current avatar.
Callan frowned as he tried to process this new information. “Okay, I guess I follow all that. You’re saying that Kivi has these ‘conduits’ or whatever, but Paeral doesn’t? I remember he was just a bunch of tiny floating lights when I looked at him.”
Indeed. While the old lud may use my gifts, they may never serve as an avatar, nor will my gifts ever be as strong. Their only conduits are the ones I created for them.
“And for some reason I can see these conduits when I’m trying to sense Wurmchain.”
Yes, it is an interesting side effect, to be certain, but ultimately useless. I can already detect the presence of our own priests when they are close by.
“True, but you can’t detect people who aren’t our followers.” Then a thought occurred to Callan. He felt his heart skip a beat. “Can I see the conduits of anyone that’s serving a god, or just our own?”
Hmmm. I suppose you should be able to sense anyone who has had conduits formed, so seeing another god’s priests is not entirely outside the realm of—
The god went silent. Callan stopped in the middle of the street, ignoring the curious expressions that Kivi and Lisson were giving him. He waited.
Finally. Mortal... I believe I have just uncompressed something.
“Yeah, no shit.” A wide grin cracked Callan’s face, the first real one he’d had in days. He turned to Kivi. “Change of plans. Get the mayor to gather everyone in the town square. We might not be completely screwed after all.”