Chapter 87 - More Allies

Lucitians don’t believe in debts—at least, not to people other than the church. But saving someone’s life does have a way of ingratiating them to you. Annalisa was easy enough to please, of course. All she wanted was free drinks for the rest of the night and a handful of chips for the Stakes table. My own desires were a bit more esoteric, and wouldn’t be bought quite so easily.

“Another inch to the left and you’d have been dead. Towers or no towers,” I said to Problems.

She made the hand gesture of her temple, which looks a bit like flipping an invisible coin. “As our Lady of Odds whims.”

“At the risk of sounding blasphemous, Lucita seems to be a fickle bitch. The least she could do is protect her own followers. What makes her so worthy of devotion?”

Problems smiled and looked down. “I was a powder mixer before I came to the Bastard. And that is a very exact—and exacting—science. The blasting soot for our pistols and rifles follows precise formulae—and don’t ask, because I won’t reveal it—to remain stable enough to propel an iron bullet on command and at the velocity required to pierce a breastplate. Fourteen years ago, after working three double-shifts, I strayed from that formula. By chance, I mixed the ratios of two ingredients—one of which is an accelerant, the other of which is a stabilizer.”

“So you made the boom twice as potent with half the stability?”

“Yes. Only, the oxidizer—“

“The what?”

“The boom-enhancer,” she pulled the cloth away from her neck, wincing and checking the red smudge, “turned out to itself be improperly mixed with a compound that formed a neutralizing chemical bond with the stabilizer in an exotherm—a heat-producing reaction. So, the more stabilizer….”

“The more heat,” I finished. “How did that happen?” I asked.

“It turned out to be provided to our supplier by a rival mixer, along with a substantial purse of silver. I alone, out of eight other masters survived the fire. Because, by chance, I had introduced only half the typical stabilizer, and so it did not get hot enough to reach combustion.”

I sat back and looked at the two new paladins in the room. “I don’t follow.”

“Before that night, I had always prayed to Ma’halrak. A drakkyn storm god, if you’re unfamiliar. But he didn’t keep me safe. A simple mistake did. A fluke of chance. Our Lady of Wagers makes no promises, grants no boons, demands no tribute. But neither does she strike out of spite, become jealous, or grant favor contingent on deeds in Her name. She is a Goddess who will walk beside you, You can curse her name, sing her praises, and it will phase her not one bit—for her blessings are truly random. There is fairness in her unfairness. And that is laudable.”

She examined her cloth again, before switching it for a clean one. The wound wasn’t deep. At least, not enough to need sutures. The priestess sighed. “I don’t expect you to understand, Master Knave.”

“That’s a relief,” I said. “Because you lost me at neutralizing chemical bond.”

High Priestess Problems laughed, and then turned to look at the door. “To think, while I spoke of truce, people in that hall were being gutted. Still, I don’t understand, why now?”

I leaned forward. “I might have kicked over the hornet’s nest. Mother Mayaz is trying to follow the fel witch’s footsteps. But I don’t know why they lead to your door.”

I didn’t know it was possible for a drakkyn to purse their lips, but Problems managed it. “Perhaps the variable is yet before our eyes. Tell me, do you know why the abyssal cults followed Margot Bethane?”

I shook my head, suddenly wary.

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“Bethane wielded prophecy like a blade—including those central to many religions—in pursuit of her goals. The abyssals that found root in Hollowdown following the fall of the fel witch were one such sect.”

“What does that have to do with Lucita?” I asked.

She spread her hands. “Lucita promises only cold chance. She is antithetical to architects of prophecy looking to quicken signs before their time. She stunts the artificial haste of things foretold, but yet to come. She forestalls them coming before chance would will them naturally.”

Name thyself. I shivered, hoping the priestess wouldn’t notice. Had Lucita been on my side that night when Margot paid me a visit?

“This actually solves a bit of the puzzle,” I said. “The Mayazians have been mad for prophecy lately. I had opportunity to deny them a treasure trove of prophetic writings recently. This aggression could be a response.” I scratched my chin. “What is this prophecy they’re trying to hasten, anyway?”

“I’m afraid that for that answer, you’d have to ask Mother Mayaz. But seeing as how readily the abyss threw in for the fel witch, I can safely say nothing good.”

And somehow, I played a pivotal role. Gods, why did it have to be me? All I’d been doing was cowering in a basement. Clearly I had some magical prowess, but it shouldn’t have been enough to attract the attention of Margot Bethane and now Mother Mayaz. I considered. The sooner I learned about those books from the Golden Elf college, the better. They must have some answers, even if they aren’t necessarily the ones I wanted. The Wills had led me to those three books in particular, out of the thousands—perhaps tens of thousands in the Soul Seeker library.

“There’s still the matter of fortifying your shrine. Mayaz aggression won’t stop just because they got a whiff of us here.” I looked at the paladins in the room—second string smiters, at best. One even had a pig-iron adventurer’s badge. Not so long ago, he’d have flattened me. Now, I didn’t even consider him a threat. Not to me, and certainly not to some of the Mayazian bruisers. Darza would have carved through us like Winter Eve pheasants.

“Yes, I’m quite certain they will not,” agreed Problems. She ran a claw around the rim of her teacup. “So, what do you suggest?”

I leaned back. “You need muscle.”

“We’re hardly hurting for coin. We can contract with the guild…”

I shook my head. “Muscle you can trust. Mother Mayaz doesn’t have to buy out every badge you hire. Just enough. Let my man manage the security. We have a few guild regulars we trust. You’ll need new warding, too. Mother Mayaz can divine blind spots. I have someone expertly acquainted with wards that I think would be willing to help.”

“And since you’re not adherents of the church, I’m sure this isn’t being offered out of devotion to Lucita,” said Problems.

“No, but since it’s in our interest to throw a spanner in the Mayazian rudderworks, I’m not going to charge you the bone king’s cache. It will be expensive, but I’ll make sure it’s worth it. I do have one other request.”

Problems leveled her eyes at me. “I’m listening.”

“Your arena,” I said. “On the second level. I want Annalisa to fight there.”

The high priestess hissed. “Billings at the shrine pit rival those in the upper city, and for good reason. They’re guaranteed honest. They’re not like your cheat-filled downs pits with weighted odds. I’d rather pay full price for your muscle.”

I shook my head. “The fight is non-negotiable. We need to start moving into fights beyond the downs. I’m sure there are plenty of adventurers who would be willing to take a swing at my partner. I—” I stopped. “How do you know the fights are all honest?” I ventured.

Problems smiled. “One of Lucita’s rare blessings. Nothing inside the ring can be affected by those outside the ring. A divine barrier prevents it. If you want to ply your cards on your partner, you’ll have to be in the ring beside her to do it.”

I grimaced. Annalisa and I fought well together—much better than either of us did alone. But many of the fighting teams out there drilled for years in the pit to become effective partners. But few of them had the lovers arcana burning above their heads. And Annalisa still bore the precipice. Caution ill-fit the Barrow Knave and the Lady Blue. “Fine,” I said. “A doubles fight.”

“Very well. When can I expect the first of your fighters?” she asked.

“Tonight,” I said, standing. “Thank you for the tea. It was… interesting.”

Problems laughed. “Just say bad, Barrow Knave.”

One of the paladins opened the door for me.

“Food for thought, Knave,” said the high priestess. “Not all those chasing prophecy are seeking to evoke it. It can just as easily be prevented—by ensuring those associated are dealt with before they can play their part.”

The door shut behind me. I stood in the hall and watched acolytes scrub at the carpet with bristle brushes for a few moments before heading back to the lounge. I sat alone at the bar for a time, not interested in watching the lutist who had replaced Mithra underneath the limelight.

Two drinks in, I got to thinking about something else that was mentioned in my conversation with the high priestess: a variable we were missing. I thought back to my first encounter with Mother Mayaz’ gang—when she’d attacked the Mop and Bucket.

It hadn’t been a random attack. And it hadn’t been me she was after. In the aftermath, I hadn’t really been concerned with what her original goal was. I was too busy with the heap of shit Kridick left for me to step in after throwing us to the sharks.

I slipped out my deck and did a quick reading to confirm my suspicions. Then, I got up from the bar, collected my partner, and left the shrine.