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Even in the fables I’ve read, the godlen make their desires known with glowing symbols and meaningful dreams. Not so much direct conversation.
If Kosmel ever decides to get chatty again, it’d be kind of nice to know what that means for me.
“Oh! Of course you’d be interested in that subject.” Alek taps his mouth, his gaze going distant with thought. “It’s certainly never happened to me or anyone I’ve spoken to. Although I suppose Estera probably wouldn’t be inclined to say much to someone who didn’t even offer a sacrifice anyway.” His hand rises to his chest where his godlen brand lies beneath his tunic.
I can’t hold back a guffaw. “I didn’t even dedicate myself.”
Alek shoots me a crooked grin. “Well, Kosmel is known for taking on difficult causes. I’ve definitely come across written accounts from clerics of their ‘interactions’ with the gods in various ways… I think I can find a couple of old journals that could give you some insight, and I’ll do more research in that area after today.”
He motions for me to follow him into the larger archive room next door. After several minutes of stalking along the cluttered shelves, he’s handed over two small leather-bound books to me, one stained with dribbles of wax, the other with splotches that give off a sour smell that makes me think they’re wine.
“Those should make a good start,” Alek says.
I laugh as I tuck the books under my arm. “You really do know how to find out everything about everything, huh? We’re lucky we have you on our side.”
The scholar ducks his head with a hint of awkwardness at the praise. “I’m not sure just how helpful they’ll be. One thing I’ve seen from reading anything to do with theology is there are all kinds of contradictory theories and observations… I’m not sure it’s something we mortals can fully pin down.”
“Even partly pinning it down would be a relief. Thank you.”
We return to the smaller meeting room to find Benedikt lounging at the desk with his feet propped up on its edge. At our arrival, he tilts his head at a jaunty angle. “The both of you are down here already getting to work. What are you up to now?”
I don’t know how to begin telling him about my new interest in the divine without revealing more than I’d like to. “Alek was just filling me in on the key members of the bug club.”
“Ah, we’re going to start poking at them like the bugs they are, hmm?”
Benedikt chuckles at his own joke, and it occurs to me that no one has filled him in on even the initial plans we made without him two nights ago.
“I, ah—Stavros and I decided that I should try to make myself look like an appealing new recruit to the scourge sorcerers,” I say. “It’ll be easier if I know whose notice I’m trying to catch.”
Alek’s head jerks toward me at the news.
One of Benedikt’s eyebrows lifts. “You and Stavros decided, and Alek already knew to pull the information together?”
“I didn’t know,” Alek says, a little tightly, his gaze still fixed on me. “Not the recruiting part anyway. It was obvious we’d want to focus on the people most closely associated with both Ster. Torstem and Wendos. The medics still haven’t been able to draw Wendos out of his coma. It seemed urgent that we get started.”
“Yes. Urgent.” Benedikt spins a quill he’s picked up between his fingers. Can he tell that we’re leaving out part of the story? “Those accomplices of his really messed him up good with their final sacrifice.”
Or rather, I did. I don’t know what my magic did to Wendos that the medics haven’t been able to heal.
Before the moment can become truly strained, Casimir arrives through the conjured passage. He bobs his head in greeting to all of us, his gaze lingering on me with one of his gentle smiles. “Good to see you. Have you been getting on all right, Ivy?”
His concern sets off a flutter of warmth in me that I have no right to feel. I make myself smile back. “I always do.”
Benedikt sits up straighter, his gaze darting between us. “Why wouldn’t Ivy be all right? Has that bitch Anya been after her again?”
My stomach flips over. “No, no, I’m totally fine.”
Casimir is better than me at smoothing things over. “I only thought she might be a little out of sorts after everything she went through the other night.”
Then the wall wavers again, and I’m unexpectedly relieved to see Stavros’s red-topped head ducking from the secret passage. Now the meeting can get going without any more questions I’d rather not try to answer.
As the former general glances around at us, he holds up a leather sack. “King Konram was good to his word. We’ll have a new meeting place after today, and the means to enter it directly from wherever we happen to be.”
A much more understandable sense of relief fills me. “That’s great.”
Stavros fixes me with a glower, his voice coming out in the sardonic drawl I like least. “I should have said, most of us will have the means. I’ll be holding on to yours, Thief.”
Benedikt waves his hand as if to redirect Stavros to what he believes is a more important subject. “What’s all this about Ivy getting herself recruited by the scourge sorcerers?”
