No one ever bothered looking up. Humans had a bad habit of never looking up. Other races knew that their lives depended on alertness. Yet humans were universally ignorant of this. They took comfort in their numbers rather than adapt to an awareness of their surroundings.

So I'd been taught that when dealing with humans always strive high. Having winged humans on The Island you would think the watchers would be more alert to what was above them. Old habits are hard to break and not one of the dozen or so guards bothered to look up.

I'd stolen and stashed the dark clothing weeks ago. They most likely came off of another plague victim that didn't survive. The bodies had been lined up in rows, stipped of all clothing, tagged for identification. Where had the clothes they were wearing gone? Mostly in the rubbish, but some of the nicer things were kept in a closet filled with random junk. Perhaps, one of the watchers had thought they could be sold off for profit back on land.

The Watchers. Rille had been right about them always watching. Not all of the people on this island were healers. Most of them were the researchers that were here initially, but there were far too many buildings and staff in place just to research a few odd plants and monsters. No, something wasn't right.

How was it that a research base was so easily converted into elemental type specific hospitals. Rille's tank for instance, that glass would have had to be prepared ahead of time. There was just no way a custom order like that would have been done in weeks.

The quilted padded walls they had in the gymnasium in the air building. Why would a research center need padded walls. Unless they were placed there for a specific reason. That reason being to keep newly winged humans from injuring themselves in flight practice.

No, this place knew the plague would happen. They had prepared for it. How far did the knowledge go? Had they known this would happen when they brought all those lucky winners here? Or had they been alerted to the impending crisis from people like Rille's mother who had shown early signs of illness?

The Island's own head healer had seen to Rille's mother over the winter. Had he seen her condition and predicted that there would be an outbreak? Why hadn't there been any warnings if they knew so far in advance as to build these specialized buildings?

It was wrong. Something was wrong.

Someone had to have answer. It was just a matter of finding who. Of course the head of the Island Rience would know but getting information from him would be dangerous. I wasn't certain how it would be dangerous but instinct told me not to get close. Rather, my luck told me not to get close.

If you learned to listen to the luck, didn't get greedy, didn't abuse it, it wouldn't backfire on you. Rille's mother had the luck. I was nearly certain that her chosen sacrifice had been Rille. Why anyone would do that to their own child I didn't know. It was obvious that Maple was the sort to abuse the luck. It was remarkable in a way that Rille had lived so long considering the curse her mother had placed on her.

I'd hated my family and I'd still been cautious in using the luck. My parents and older siblings were my sacrifice. I'd given their luck to Chance when I was just ten. The god hadn't batted an eye when he looked at me. Covered in bruises, one of my eyes punched out of socket, blood dripping from multiple cuts he'd conducted business as usual. Then, probably out of pity, he healed me. I'd probably have lost sight in that eye if it hadn't been for godly intervention.

It had been bad that night. My mother had actually gotten a knife and was using the blade to cut marks into my arm again. One mark for every broken honey jar. It didn't matter that it had been my older brothers playing too close to the storage shed. One of them had slammed into the wall and caused the shelf inside to fall over. It had been blamed on me since I was the one responsible for stalking the jars.

I fought her off and when I ran my father had suddenly been there with a fist to the face. My brothers joined in the beating until I'd lost consciousness. While I'd been out my mother had finished her cutting.

Perhaps if it had been the first time I wouldn't have considered it. This instance had been one out of perhaps hundreds of beating. It had been particularly bad but still one out of hundreds.

The book had been discarded. Left in the temple trash. There was only one temple in Honeyton but it wasn't dedicated to any one god. It was a catch-all type temple. All gods welcome. The only priest in town hadn't been a very devout man and his only real duties included marriages, deaths, and seeing to distributing the townspeople's Exp.

So he really didn't know what items should have been kept, what to toss out, or what should have remained hidden. How our little temple had gotten a copy of that book I didn't know. Why the priest didn't bother to even look at the contents I didn't know either. Perhaps it was luck of a different sort that led me to it.

That night, surrounded by slumbering bees, I summoned Chance. I named my family as my sacrifices. He accepted the deal and I gained the skill Luck Leech.

Considering what a devastating skill it could be the summoning had been simple. So easy a child with meager resources could do it. A dangerous book indeed. I burned it at the first opportunity.

Luck Leech had given me a sixth sense about situations. People like Rille's mother used it in gambling, but there were far better applications. Rille's mother seemed blinded to the possibilities. She probably wouldn't have had such a harsh life if she'd learned to listen to her luck better.

She was the greedy sort though. That was obvious from her choice of sacrifice. Perhaps she chose to ignore her luck when it suited her greed. Not an evil woman necessarily, but a selfish one. I had wondered if Rille's close proximity had had something to do with their bad luck.

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Rille practically had a miasma of bad luck floating around her. Everything she did would go bad at some point. Perhaps by living with her mother, who had good luck, they counteracted each other. They'd go through cycles where the good luck would dominate the household and just as there would be cycles of bad luck.

In a backhanded way, Maple living with Rille probably kept Rille alive. Though the odds of Rille dying young wouldn't have been so great if Maple hadn't sacrificed her. Rille was a good person, I had a hard time being civil to Maple once I'd discovered what she'd done.

My family were monsters. They deserved all the misfortune that came their way. My running off hadn't changed their dispositions in the slightest. Two of my brothers were currently working in the mines for theft with violence. My father joined them a year later after beating a man nearly to death in a pub brawl.

My mother and another brother had tried to keep the apiary running, but then he got drunk one night and set the entire thing on fire. He joined the mining crew for starting a forest fire that burned down the neighbor's flower fields. They had been ordered to give all the land over to the neighbor as recompense.

Mother was the only one not doing time in some form of penal system. She'd become the local barmaid and whore for hire. Rumor was she did a decent business and was saving up money to take her new found trade into the big city.

The point was my family deserved it. Rille did not, but being god touched, even in a secondary way, had saved her life in this plague.

Sounds drifted up to me from the room below. It was just the nightly researchers meeting. There were some legitimate healers present but for the most part it was mostly a meeting for the researchers. If there was any information to gain it would be from one of them.

For the last few weeks they hadn't talked about anything that shed light on my suspicions. I had, however, pinpointed two likely candidates to look into. Researchers that were more upper middling ranked. They had some access to the boss and his main group.

This meeting went the same as the others. What to do with the patients with mental corruption was always in hot contention. Those poor people were sent to an underground facility. Of course I wasn't supposed to know that there was a mental ward in the vast cavern complex under The Island.

From what I gathered most of the caverns were underwater and inaccessible. The caves they used were only accessible from a man made path way in the basement of this very building. They could also be accessed from some random cave on the coast, follow a complicated series of underwater tunnels, and another labyrinth of caves. No, it was easier to carve out a staircase from the top.

At some point I wanted into those buildings, but for now I couldn't figure out a way in. The security around the underground area was certainly better than any other part of The Island. Large men in all black uniforms stood sentinel all hours of the day and were meticulous in checking Id's.

There were only two ways to get down there. Take out the guards and hope no one would notice until you were able to get back to the surface or test positive for mental corruption. Shitty options either way. The outer entrance from the shore wasn't really an option. Getting lost and drowning were only a few of the drawbacks.

Ah, the woman had begun speaking again. She was always saying things like Mr. Rience says or Mr. Rience wants. I wasn't certain if she was actually in Rience's confidence or was just one of those people who boasted about being near the top and really was just the person who fetched tea. Still, the person who got tea for the king had to have some sort of position.

My other candidate for information was a man. He wasn't always at the meetings and when he was it was usually to address the crowd about changes in security policy. He was the head of all the black suited guards. Older, taciturn, and had probably spent a good deal of his life in the military.

He was most likely to have the best information but it would be harder to get it from him. The woman seemed reliable at her job and devoted like a dog but most likely wasn't let into the inner circle secrets as she hinted to her colleagues. I would probably stalk her a bit first since she was the easier target.

I could be wrong and some information gained from her could lead to something. It was far less risky and if nothing came from it I could always try again with the man. She seemed like an efficient person if nothing else. Efficiency sometimes was the downfall of secret keeping. People who were efficient tended to like record keeping.

Gossip is what lead me to these meetings. The attendants tended to ignore the earth types after they've rooted. After all, they would soon be trees. So they felt less reserved about talking in front of them.

I would give Maple credit for being able to listen without seeming to be listening. Marcy had taken it upon herself to keep the old lady company during her death transition. Maple would tell Marcy what she'd overheard and Marcy would pass it along to me.

Marcy didn't understand why I avoided Maple. I hadn't told anyone what I knew about her or her past actions. Marcy didn't know, so found it pleasant to keep the woman company as she tried knitting with ever decreasing deftness.

Rille surely didn't know. At least I strongly suspected she didn't know. It wasn't my place to tell her about her mother's sins. Maple would be gone soon and it wouldn't be a factor in how Rille lived the rest of her life. I didn't really see any need to tell her.

She probably suspected she was one of the very very few who'd survived and weren't god touched. I'd let her continue to think that.

I did wonder about the handful of people who claimed no connections with the gods. I suspected they'd been god touched and didn't know it. Not many people realized it but gods could be anywhere. Not all of them were instantly recognized as gods. Only a few outside the major twelve would be recognized by the common populace.

An odd fishy smelling old man congratulates you on a wonderful catch after a day of fishing. The small little girl who help you pick a bouquet of wildflowers. The middle-aged fat woman who cooked the best bread in town. You never know who could really be a god living as a mortal.

I'd been given Luck Leech by Chance at ten. His appearance had certainly startled me and made me reconsider some of my preconceptions. My Lady, Avedette, her appearance certainly fit her godly attributes. A goddess of retribution and revenge I'd dedicated my life's service to her.

In some ways, I could be considered a priestess but as Lady Avedette was a minor goddess with no physical temples dedicated to her she didn't really have priests. Did you have to have a temple to be a priest was the question? The induction into Avedette's service was just as secret and closed doors as my summoning of Chance years before.

No one advertised they were a devotee of Avedette. You just were. Those who required her services knew how to contact Avedette and her followers.

First I had to know, truly know, for My Lady did not take revenge lightly. She was the Daughter of Justice. Honor still was at the core of every head that rolled. I personally felt that Lady Avedette kept things more balanced than her mother.

Revenge and retribution. My Lady would be on my side on my self imposed mission. If I was right and all this death and pain had been planned... I'd do the rituals myself. I'd summon Avedette to this place and together we'd reap their souls.

Let justice rain down like waters and vengeance an everlasting flow.