Callan crouched at the top of the hill, scanning the grass past the little cluster of buildings. None of it was particularly tall, but it wouldn’t need to be to hide a geriatric yeth woman crouched amongst the stalks. She could have been miles away out there. Or ten feet from him. He’d never know.

Sighing, he got to his feet.

Mortal, are you sure that’s wise? Xeph asked as he strode down the hill. The sound of crunching rocks behind signaled Kivi and Paeral hastening to catch up.

“There’s no point in subterfuge, Xeph. If my shouting earlier didn’t alert Ulfa, she won’t notice us until it’s too late.”

Still, it couldn’t hurt to at least exercise a little caution...

“To do what?” Callan stopped at the first building. From inside came several deep grunts. Yep. Definitely dvorak in there. “I already scanned the prairie for her and didn’t see anything. Now, if I had Dveorgeye, that would be a different matter, but I don’t.”

Xeph was silent for a moment. That was cruel and uncalled for.

“Yeah, well tough tits.” Glancing back, he told Kivi, “Circle the camp and look for anything unusual. Don’t go past the buildings until I give the all-clear.”

Just because he didn’t see a need for subterfuge didn’t mean they couldn’t also be cautious.

The lud nodded, then broke away, heading in opposite directions around the edge of the little encampment. Callan looked around for a moment, but didn’t see anything unusual. Finally, he took another step past the building.

Nothing happened, other than a particularly loud grunt from the dvorak pen.

Satisfied, Callan strode towards the fire pit. The ground around it was heavily trampled, as though it had seen repeated and frequent activity. What little grass remained here mostly grew in undisturbed corners, or along the edges of a log that had clearly seen use as a bench.

Callan stopped at the edge of the firepit and frowned. He turned in a slow circle, taking it in.

“Yeah, there’s no way those cultists didn’t know about this place. How come none of them mentioned it?”

Hmm. Perhaps Veritas is not the one responsible for this place.

“These buildings didn’t just build themselves, Xeph.” He gestured vaguely around them, then paused. He looked at the buildings again.

All of them showed significant signs of aging. Several were missing roof sections or had holes in their walls. A few even had vines creeping along their sides. Callan immediately revised his estimates.

“Okay, so maybe this place was built before Veritas fell the first time. Still, there’s definitely been someone here since then.”

I actually suspect that this was originally a camp for Athakolu’s priesthood. Otherwise I find it unlikely that Belinda or her husband wouldn’t have stumbled across it before now.

“Huh. Guess that would be kind of ironic. Veritas using the old camp of his enemies.”

Indeed. However, the question remains—where is Veritas?

Callan considered that. If the avatar wanted to spring a trap, she had ample locations to choose from. Any one of the buildings, or the surrounding grassland. But they hadn’t so far. Which meant that they now had the opportunity to do the same.

“Paeral, keep an eye on the perimeter,” he called. “Let me know if you see Ulfa anywhere. Kivi, I want you to check inside that big building over there. If it has an altar to corrupt, let me know.”

You really think Veritas would keep an altar in there? Xeph asked, his tone scandalized.

“Why not? I kept yours in a dingy basement.”

Yes, but that was different.

“How so?”

It just was, the god groused, as Callan moved towards another nearby building and peeked in through a crack. His view confirmed that this was a wise choice as he beheld a medium-sized dvorak—in other words, only slightly bigger than his parent’s Corolla—laying on its side against a wall. Its ear twitched as he watched, scattering several flies that had tried to roost there.

“No temple I can see, but...” Callan shifted to get a view from a different angle. “...Huh.”

There were several small creatures tumbling about the dozing dvorak. Small, wrinkly, gray things with so many skin folds that they reminded him of a shaved basset hound. It took a moment to figure out what they were.

Infant dvorak, Xeph said, at about the same moment as realization clicked in Callan’s head. A fresh litter by the look of it. Those calves can’t be more than a few days old.

“I can believe that.” None of the baby dvorak were bigger than a housecat. It boggled Callan’s mind to think that they’d grow to such gargantuan size as to be usable as living tanks. Then again, he’d seen a Earth piglet once, and it had seemed equally unbelievable that it might one day be a four-hundred pound sow.

Satisfied that the building didn’t contain anything other than an unruly nursery, he turned around—and found Ulfa watching him.

The other avatar stood in the center of the firepit, cold ashes swirling at her feet. She tilted her head, and the wolf mask pivoted, giving Callan a lopsided grin. He froze in place, so surprised by the sudden appearance that for a brief moment, his brain misfired, wasting precious seconds while he caught back up with the sudden change. How had the avatar snuck up on him?

“Avatar,” Paeral called. Callan could just see him standing at the edge of the encampment. “I have located Veritas—”

“Yes, thank you, Paeral. I sort of already noticed.” Callan’s brain finally started working again. He took a step forward—and cursed himself for not having summoned Mountainform before entering the camp. He did so now.

Alert: 5% Apotheosis used.

Total Apotheosis is at 5%

Ulfa had turned toward Paeral at the sound of his voice, but the moment Callan summoned his armor her head snapped back. “Ah, Avatar Callan. I... remember you.”

The voice modulator still made it difficult to make out who was speaking, or any sort of inflection, really, but Callan had gotten pretty good these last few weeks at interpreting. He thought there was a note of a question to the other avatar’s words.

“Yep. Good to see you, Ulfa.” He took another step forward.

“Ulfa...” The other avatar tilted their head again. “You mentioned that name before. Curious.”

Callan paused. Earlier? What is she talking about?

Shaking his head, he pushed on. “That’s right. I figured out who your avatar is.”

“Perhaps... But I am Veritas. Nothing more.” The other avatar turned and looked away into the distance. It would have been the perfect moment for Callan to strike, yet something stopped him. This whole situation felt off. He didn’t like it.

“Why did you run before?” he asked. “Back at the tower. I don’t get it. You abandoned your people. Why didn’t you stay and fight?”

“I... don’t know.” The avatar’s gaze slid over him, unseeing. Yeah, there was definitely something wrong here. “I wanted to kill you. All this pain and trouble you’ve caused here, for no reason, when you could have just left. Yet you stayed, like a... a burr under my clothes. I wanted to hurt you for that.”

Ulfa glanced down at her hands. “I wanted to feel your life leave your body as I squeezed. It seemed so important then. Now it... doesn’t.”

Something is amiss, Xeph muttered. These speech patterns are all wrong. Not like Veritas before. Could this be another imposter, luring us into a false sense of security?

“I already considered that, Xeph.” Callan didn’t take his eyes off Ulfa, but she was ignoring him again, studying the buildings. He crept closer. Two more steps and he’d be near enough to take her out, no problem. “But who’s left at this point? All of her priests are either dead or have recanted their oaths.”

Unless they lied about that. It would have been little trouble to flee back here once the village’s attentions turned elsewhere.

Huh... Yeah, that was a definite possibility. And a problem. Dangit, Callan should have insisted the priests be kept under lock and key until Veritas was dealt with. There had just been so much else going on last night...

Well, no sense worrying about it now. He just had to make the best of the situation.

“So what do you say, Veritas? Should we finish our contest? Winner takes all?” He raised his fists.

Ulfa studied him for a long moment. Finally, she shook her head. “I think... not. Soon. But not yet. First...”

“Yeah?” Callan crept closer. Just one more step...

“First... you die.”

Even as Callan lunged, Ulfa leapt backwards, into the firepit. She disappeared.

“What the Hell—?” Even as he spoke, Callan caught a glimpse of metal banding the firepit’s rim, something that had been hidden amongst the ashes until Ulfa’s footsteps disturbed it. Realization hit him like a truck.

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

A moment later, Xeph confirmed his suspicions. Hmm, a teleportation circle. The temple must be close.

“Guess we’re about to find out.” Callan leapt into the ring. Nothing happened. He cursed under his breath.

Did you actually think that the avatar wouldn’t deactivate it behind her? Xeph asked, an amused note to his voice.

“I was hoping they wouldn’t be that quick.” Callan meant to comment further but was interrupted as the ground beneath his feet rumbled. Ashes scattered to the winds and the metal teleportation ring gave a groan as it buckled and bent.

“Avatar!” Kivi came hurrying forward.

“Don’t!” Callan flung out a hand, and more on instinct than anything activated Shape Stone.

Alert: 5% Apotheosis used.

Total Apotheosis is at 9%

A wall of stone erupted from the ground in front of Kivi, surprising Callan. He hadn’t thought there was that much hiding under the dirt.

Then there was no time for further thoughts or action. The ground beneath him shook once more before simply giving away beneath his feet. Callan felt himself drop, drop, drop. Xeph howled wordlessly in his ears.

Then darkness consumed him completely and utterly.

----------------------------------------

It took a concerted effort for Callan to claw his way back to consciousness. When he finally did, he immediately regretted it.

“Owwwwwww. God dammit, that hurts!” He raised a hand and felt tentatively at his head. There was a lump on his brow almost as wide across as his fist. He winced as even that light a touch set off a fresh flare of pain.

Yes, that tends to happen when one falls down a deep hole and hits every rock and root along the way.

“Hole?” Then it came back to Callan. Veritas’s camp. The avatar’s sudden appearance and disappearance. The ground giving way beneath his feet. “Right. Hole. That makes sense.”

You’re lucky that injury to your head is all that you sustained, the god said as Callan slowly sat himself up. His eyes drifted to a bandage wrapped around his leg, through which a small bloodstain was already spreading.

That, too, Xeph added, almost as an afterthought. Still, remarkably lucky, all things considered. Clearly Veritas underestimated just how much Fortitude you now possess. It seems heavily weighting your stats in that direction paid off. Not to mention how you maintained Mountainform, even while unconscious.

Callan glanced at his hands, and saw they were still coated in white stone. He flexed a fist and nodded to himself.

It was only then that he finally took the time to study his surroundings.

He was lying on a smooth, flat floor—it had to be a floor, because there was no way something like this occurred naturally. There wasn’t so much as a ridge or bump to be felt. Even the tunnels of Xeph’s temple weren’t this uniform.

The ceiling stretched overhead higher than he could see, but there were several jagged edges that made him think the roof wasn’t too much beyond. Further away it sloped downward sharply, terminating in a pile of rocks that probably were part of the collapse that had nearly killed him.

Off to one side, what looked to be the entrance of a tunnel beckoned, its exact details shrouded in shadow.

And only a few feet away from him at the center of the chamber, a small fire burned merrily. It crackled and popped as he watched, and seemed to have no source that Callan could see. Just flames rising from the floor, casting waves of heat in his direction.

Crouched next to the fire was a solitary figure. Callan almost leapt out of his skin when he finally noticed them.

The figure had their back to him, their attention focused on the floor beyond. Callan swallowed, then forced himself to sit up. Since Xeph hadn’t sounded the alarm, they were probably safe, yet still... there was only one person he would have expected to be down here with him.

“Ulfa?” he asked, his whole body tensed in preparation to... what? Fight? Flee? Some unknown third option?

Before he could decide, the figure turned around.

Callan found himself staring into the unfamiliar face of a young girl. She had the same olive skin as Kivi, though she was much taller and lacking an extra pair of arms. In the firelight, her hair appeared golden, though Callan realized belatedly it was streaked with black, almost giving it a striped appearance. Behind the girl, a tail swished back and forth, the same striped colors as her hair.

Wait, a tail? That was new.

“Ulfa?” the girl asked, tilting her head. A pair of furry black ears poked through her hair. The sight of them set off a distant memory that Callan couldn’t quite place. “There is no one here by that name, I’m afraid.”

“Uh, okay then.” Pushing aside the elusive memory, he gestured at his bandaged leg. “Are you the one who did this? Thanks.”

The girl gave a dismissive shrug. “It was the least I could do after you collapsed the tunnel and trapped me in here.”

“...Sorry?” Callan said. Glancing around again, he frowned. “Where exactly is ‘here’, anyway?”

When he looked back, the girl was staring at him funny. “What?”

“You planning to introduce yourself any time soon, or...?”

“Oh! I’m Callan.” He held out a hand. The girl just stared at it blankly, and eventually Callan let it drop again. He was feeling more awkward with each passing moment.

“Nice to meet you, Callan. And who’s the god inside your head?”

“Xeph?” Callan blinked in surprise. “You know about him?”

“Yep. Unless you regularly make a habit of talking to yourself when you wake up.” She gave a mischievous grin at that.

“Right.”

“Also, there is how you survived half a ton of stone dropping on your head.”

“Uh...”

Her grin widened. “And that isn’t even getting to the small matter of whatever is happening with your arms.”

Callan looked down at Mountainform. He flushed.

“Yeah, that all makes sense. This is Xeph-Zul-Karatl, god of stone and mountains. But I just call him ‘Xeph’ for short. Hey, buddy, say hello.” He rapped on the side of his skull.

Hmmph. Xeph didn’t say anything further. After a moment, Callan shrugged.

“Guess he’s not feeling particularly chatty right now.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” The girl said. Her expression turned serious. “Is this place yours then?”

“What? Here?” Callan laughed. “No, no. Our hole in the ground is much nicer than this.”

Surprisingly, this didn’t elicit so much as a growl from Xeph. The girl, meanwhile, gave a satisfied nod.

“Good. This place had the feel of a temple, but... If you two will excuse me a moment.”

She stood and moved away towards the tunnel Callan had spotted earlier. Slipping inside, she disappeared from view.

Callan sat back. “Hey, Xeph, what’s up?”

What do you mean, mortal?

“Why are you giving me the silent treatment? You were downright chatty when I first woke up.”

My apologies. It wasn’t my intention to make you feel ignored. I was simply taken aback momentarily. To encounter a mjolk here in the Badlands, of all places...

Huh. Apparently Xeph hadn’t seen the girl any earlier than he had. So much for assuming they were safe. Callan immediately started reassessing the situation.

“Is that what she is? A... mjolk?” The name sounded vaguely familiar. Callan was certain Xeph had mentioned them before. Then it came back to him. “Didn’t you say before that they were made to be hyper submissive or some bullshit like that?”

Hmmph. I believe I also mentioned that the experiment was a disaster. Due to a mix up in the formulas used, the mjolk were given... a more aggressive temperament. Now they tend to be the sort to kill first and question later. Which is why I focused on, ah, assessing our current situation more thoroughly.

“You were pissing in your proverbial boots, is what you mean?” Callan suppressed a laugh. “I think we’re okay. She doesn’t seem particularly violent.”

Not yet. Notably, Xeph didn’t dispute Callan’s other comment the way he usually would. Callan wasn’t sure if that was a worrisome sign or not.

Before he could wonder too long, the girl returned. “It seems the way ahead is unchanged. I had hoped with your appearance... well, never mind. We will need to get through it somehow, as the way back is inaccessible now. Thanks to a certain someone.”

“Hey, in my defense, it’s not like I wanted to fall down here.” Callan frowned. “Also, we might not be that trapped. Give me and Xeph a little bit, and I should be able to clear all that stone out of the way.”

The mjolk girl arched an eyebrow at that. “Useful, but the fact remains that I still need to penetrate further into this place. There is... something I must find before I can leave.”

“And what is that, exactly?”

She just stared at him blankly. Finally, she asked, “What are a boy and his god doing in this place, anyway? Seems an unusual place for one of your standing.”

Callan almost pointed out that she didn’t look nearly old enough to be calling him ‘boy’, but then thought better of it. For all he knew, she was like, seventy years old or something.

“I’m also looking for something. Well, someone,” he clarified. “An older woman wearing a wolf mask. Have you seen anyone like that around here?”

The girl shook her head. “Until you fell on my head I thought I was alone in this place. Still, maybe we can help each other. Provisionally.”

“Provisionally?” Callan asked, but she had already turned away, rummaging in a bag laid out near the fire.

“Just a moment, I’ll need to quickly alter a few of the initial terms... and that clause won’t apply... and we don’t need to worry about market interest rates, obviously...”

“Uh, Xeph?” Callan muttered out of the corner of his mouth. “You got any clue what the heck she’s going on about?”

None. The god sounded slightly nervous. Perhaps the mjolk race have been taken with a kind of mania over the millennia. It wouldn’t be the first time that modifications to a race’s mental state resulted in catastrophic failure.

Glancing at the girl again, Callan shuddered. “Geez, that’s a friggin horrifying revelation. And you still don’t see any problems with the changes you and the other gods have made?”

Of course not. Some failures are always expected when delving into an unknown area of science. It is simply the cost of progress.

“Yeah, well you ever try and pull that shit on me and you’re going to find the cost higher than you can bear.” Callan went quiet as the mjolk suddenly leapt to her feet. She spun around and thrust something into Callan’s hands.

“Here. I think you’ll find it’s all in order.”

“I—what is this?” Callan frowned and loosened his grip, allowing the paper to unroll itself as gravity drew it floorward. The thing came to rest directly in front of his toes.

“Standard short-term service agreement, since unfortunately I already have a current master-mjolk contract active. Is that acceptable?”

“Contract?” Callan was utterly lost. He glanced down at the writing, and while he could read the words easily enough, they were clearly in legalese. His eyes began to swim after just a few sentences.

He thrust the contract back at the girl. “Yeah, sorry, I won’t be signing that. Besides, is it really necessary? Seems like you need my help more than I need yours.”

“Interesting you think that.” The girl took the contract, then gestured to the first few paragraphs. “This is all standard mjolk contract language. If you’ve ever dealt with my people before, you know that we are always honest in our dealings. To do otherwise would shame my entire clan. But if you like, I can prepare a... shortened version?”

She said the words like they physically pained her. Callan nodded, and the girl turned back to her bag with a sigh. She set to work with a small pen and paper.

Since she seemed distracted for the moment, Callan moved a short distance away where he would be out of earshot. “Well? What do you think?”

Hmm. I’ve never encountered this sort of behavior with a mjolk before. It must be something new in the last centuries.

“Do you think we should trust her?”

And why wouldn’t we? Xeph sounded mildly surprised. Callan resisted the urge to sigh.

“She could be working for Veritas,” he said, lowering his voice even further. “This could all be some further trap for us.”

Doubtful. If this mjolk worked for Veritas, they had ample time to kill us before.

That was a valid point. Callan shook his head. He didn’t entirely understand what was going on, but it seemed likely this girl didn’t have anything to do with the other avatar. Just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe.

Still, that didn’t mean she wasn’t trouble. Xeph had seemed worried enough about her just a few moments ago. “I think we should just head out on our own.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” the girl said, before Xeph could answer. She didn’t glance up at Callan, just kept scribbling. “You won’t make it through the next room without the information I’ve gathered. Though I suppose you’re welcome to go try.”

Callan grimaced. “Sorry, I didn’t—"

“Excellent hearing, us mjolk.” She pointed to her ears, then resumed writing. “Also, I’m not.”

“Not what?”

“Associated with anyone named Veritas. Is that who you’re looking for?”

Callan considered lying, or simply refusing to answer, but didn’t see the point. While a bit strange, the mjolk girl had been nice enough so far. “Yeah. Veritas is another god. Ulfa is her avatar.”

“Interesting. Two gods. Then this place...” She looked up, shook her head, then glanced back at her writing. “There. That ought to be more acceptable. Come see.”

Callan approached closer. She handed him the paper. It was only a single sentence.

The undersigned agrees to a short-term contract, to terminate upon the resolution of both party’s goals, or upon the will of either member at any time.

“There. No hidden terms or complicated payment structure. Not that the other contract had them, either.” The girl stuck out her tongue at Callan. “Can you sign that one?”

Callan read it again and considered his options. Really, though, what did they have to lose?

“Alright, but can you at least tell me your name first?” he asked.

“If I must.” The girl rose to her feet, then reached out a hand to him. The tips of her fingers ended in a set of curved claws, Callan noted with some dismay. He shook anyway. “The name’s Sevvir. Pleased to meet you.”