Zae ticked over the spells she had prepared that morning, without having known she would be teleported to Absalom or dropped into the middle of an alley brawl. She now knew several things about their guide: not only was she not a cleric of Iomedae, but if her first instinct was to strike out with a blade rather than a spell, then she likely wasn’t an aspiring priestess of any god at all. Meanwhile, something odd was tickling at her senses, something about the way the rest of them moved that wasn’t quite right.
Kala—no, Tezryn—dodged Keren’s next attack, but that put her right in the path of Appleslayer’s teeth. He latched onto her hamstring, jerking his head from side to side. Keren neatly sliced the back of Tezryn’s other leg, bringing her down, then turned her attention to the closest attacker, matching him swing for swing.
Appleslayer released his prey and turned toward one of the other shadowy figures, a fury of sharp teeth and strong paws, nimbly ducking swords and unarmed swipes. He would come in from behind to keep an enemy turning and distracted, and then Keren would take the foe down with one fierce swing. He and Keren fought as one, seamlessly aiding each other with each foe. While Apple’s emotional devotion was to Zae, he was equally loyal to Keren. She had trained him well, and their rapport was a beautiful, fluid dance that just happened to result in a certain amount of blood.
But this time, it didn’t. Keren sliced a man’s arm clean off, and it fell twitching without the trademark arterial gush. Zae cursed herself for not realizing it sooner, and called upon Brigh to bring down her holy wrath upon the attackers. The maimed man fell, and the others cringed and staggered at the sudden assault of light. Though remarkably whole, they were not alive. And neither was their leader. She had struggled to her knees at the periphery of the fight, but she cried out and curled herself into a tight ball under the assault of power.
Appleslayer and Keren tore through the attackers one by one. Their blows rang against Keren’s shield. When all of them were on the ground, Zae finished them with another surge of holy power. The initiate, however, had worked her way to her feet somehow, and was stumbling toward the mouth of the alley. In a fluid movement, Keren freed her shield from her arm and threw it like a skipping stone. It scuttled across the cobbled street and cut Tezryn’s wounded legs out from under her, sending her sprawling. When Keren pushed the leader onto her back, she was glassy-eyed but snarling.
Keren reversed her grip and held her sword over Tezryn’s throat, two-handed. “What do you want from us? Tell me!” Her hands were steady and the swordpoint didn’t waver, but Zae knew her well enough to hear the hurt in her voice.
When the mock-initiate only grinned at her with bloody teeth, Keren brought the blade down with such force that it struck all the way through the woman’s throat and impacted the pavement beneath. Tezryn gurgled, and was still.
Zae started to call Appleslayer back to her, but the dog was approaching Keren, so she held her tongue. He sniffed at the knight, tail low, pacing around her like an anxious child while she checked the other attackers to make sure they’d been put down for good. Now that they were still, peeking into their hoods showed skin stretched tight over starved cheeks, and the teeth within their parted mouths were longer than they should have been.
Tezryn was dead without a doubt, but that didn’t put Zae at ease. She pressed her fingers to the guide’s forehead, then brought them to her own nose. The scent was faint, but it held notes of rosemary and clean linen. “Undead, and disguising it,” Zae said. “Unguent of revivification, I think. And she’s definitely not Iomedae’s priestess. She concealed both her appearance and her aura.” Beneath the vestments, she wore the same leather armor as the others.
“Are you sure she wasn’t just alive and evil?”
“Positive. I called Brigh’s light down upon the undead, not the living.”
“So the others…?”
“Probably not under her thrall, but likely she told them where to go for a good feast. None of them bit you, did they?”
Keren shook her head. “Apple bit one of them, though. Should we be worried about that?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so, but better to be safe than dog food.” Zae motioned the dog over to her and extended a hand. Apple sniffed cautiously at her fingers. They still smelled of the ointment, Zae realized. She wiped her hand on her coat and gave him her other hand instead, whispering to Brigh and sharing a soft, warming light from her fingertips through Apple’s fur, concentrating on following the warmth all the way through him. She encountered none of the sorts of obstacles that would indicate disease or corruption. “He’s fine.”
“Which means that our real welcoming party…” Keren and Zae exchanged a long look.
Zae mounted up on Appleslayer’s saddle while Keren took the vestments of Iomedae from Tezryn’s corpse and re-shouldered their supplies. “Apple, that alley you were curious about. Can you lead us back there? Good dog!”
As they hurried away, Zae took a quick glance back over her shoulder. Figures were already emerging from the shadows and creeping toward the corpses. Zae had seen squatters and street gangs scavenge what they could from the dead in the seedier quarters of other cities. It felt a little strange to her, knowing that it was happening, but it worked in her favor; there would likely be little left for the attackers’ masters to find.
In the alley with the pub sign, Apple’s nose led them through a heap of rubbish to the dead end and a broken, upturned crate, underneath which was bundle of bloodied rags that had once been fine cloth; it must have been the actual Kala’s underdress. Keren cursed and turned away, but Apple stayed by Zae’s side while she peeled back the stiffening fabric. There was little flesh to be found. Small scavengers hovered, drawn by the blood and determined to find a scrap to eat.
“Get, you!” she heard Keren shout, followed by a scattering of refuse and a scuffle of many tiny feet. Half a dozen rats scampered out of range of Keren’s sword, but didn’t flee from sight, unwilling to give up the chance of a meal. Keren crouched over the cloth, her expression set and cold.
Zae gave her a moment, then asked, “What do you think they wanted so badly that they’d kill a priestess just to ask us questions?”
“I don’t know,” Keren said grimly. “But we’re going to find out.”
3
SPECIAL DELIVERY
KEREN
Keren pulled one of the empty sacks out of her travel pack and stretched its drawstringed neck to the fullest. Sacks were for holding things, and that was exactly why she brought extra when she traveled. They could be used for foraging, for storing purchases to take home, or for sorting belongings so that a party could separate. It felt undignified to collect the desecrated vestments of a servant of Iomedae into a rough-spun sack, and she thought briefly that her cloak might be a more appropriate vessel, but she put that discomfort out of mind. She had been trained against sentimentality when there were casualties to attend to, and when she let her practicality take over from her emotions she could concede that cloaks were designed to be worn and sacks were meant to hold things. Zae, misreading her hesitation, stepped forward to take the rough fabric from her and hold it open.
Keren accepted the help gratefully. “This wasn’t a spur of the moment thing.”
“No, it wasn’t. Tezryn, that’s what they called her?” Zae looked back over her shoulder, as if she might still be able to see the other alley. “She had a bevy of ghouls at her disposal. Probably drew them up from the sewers or someplace, told them where they could find an easy meal if they waited.”
“With an acolyte as an advance for good faith. So to speak.” Keren frowned. “Someone knew we were coming and where we were being met, and wanted to intercept us. Now I really want to know why we were given quick transport.”
“Then the best thing for us to do is get to the temple, and hope that some answers might be waiting for us there.”
They walked toward the mouth of the alley and looked back the way they had come. Keren knew where they were re
lative to what she had seen of the city, but she was disoriented as to direction—which had probably been Tezryn’s intent. “Now we just have to find the temple, without a guide.”
“If it’s any consolation,” Zae said ruefully, “we’ve got better odds on our own than with the guide we had.”
Keren sighed.
“Also,” Zae added, “my acceptance letter came with a map.”
It was the first promising thing Keren had heard since Lastwall. “All right. Help me secure poor Kala’s things to Apple’s saddle.”
“That’s awfully impersonal. Here. If you take the lead, I’ll carry her. Them. The … bag.”
Something caught in Keren’s chest, and for a moment she felt she might burst with feeling. That Zae did this of her own initiative, for someone of Keren’s order whom she had never met … She didn’t know if what she felt was closer to love or to pride, but traveling either of those paths would lead to the sort of misty-eyed moment they didn’t have time for.
Zae produced the map and Keren took it from her. It was more an artist’s rendering than a guide, but it showed all the districts of Absalom in their correct relative positions, none the same color as its neighbor. “It looks like there’s a main road that leads to the Ascendant Court in the center of the city. That’s the district with the churches.”
“That sounds right. And look, Keren—it is the Coins, not the Gold.”
The Clockwork Cathedral’s map led them through a hectic central marketplace, though without the run-down desperation they’d seen earlier with their false guide, and then continued northward into a quieter, more orderly district. Marble buildings stood sentinel on either side of a wide, clean lane. Here patrols were more numerous, too, strolling along in their uniforms and matching cloaks among the common citizens and the clergy in the colors of their gods.
Keren scanned the left side of the road while Zae scanned the right. A stately cathedral of white stone loomed up ahead, and on it a large stained-glass window depicting the holy symbol of Iomedae glowed in the late-day sun. “That’s got to be it,” Keren said. As they approached, she nodded to two guards in Iomedaean livery on either side of the doorway—a human and a dwarf, both too well-armored and watchful to be stationed there just for ceremony.
“Crusader Keren Rhinn, Knight of Ozem, Vigilant Defender of Lastwall. We’re expected.”
The guards stepped aside. “Enter, and be welcome.”
Keren bowed her head in thanks, and they continued into the church.
It was hard to say which hall of worship felt more imposing, the Cathedral of Sancta Iomedaea in Lastwall or the Seventh Church in Absalom. Keren was more certain of a divine presence here, she decided, or at least the presence here seemed to be paying closer attention. It rippled out of the tapestries that lined the walls—eleven of them in all. It teased her nose with the scents of old scrolls and the echo of incense. And it radiated from the central altar at the end of the long hallway, and the robed, dark-skinned figure who waited there.
“Welcome. I am Yenna Quoros. The Precentor of Magic sent you?” The ornate trim on the priestess’s vestments indicated a high rank, and the sternness of her face showed the discipline that had earned it.
“Yes, ma’am. Crusader Rhinn, from Lastwall. This is Sister Zae of Brigh. I’m afraid we bear bad news regarding the initiate sent to greet us.” Keren took the bag from Zae, held it a moment, and then offered it toward the cleric.
Yenna took the bag; her lips tightened when she saw the bloody robes inside. “Tell me from the beginning.”
Keren nodded. “Zae and I were both set to travel to Absalom by conventional means—she’s to study at the Clockwork Cathedral, and her dog and I are to train at the Tempering Hall—but I received word from Precentor Heliu that we should teleport without delay. She said that there would be a representative from the church to greet us in the park, and there was. She was dressed as an initiate and said her name was Kala, and she asked a lot of questions about why we were sent, and where we were sent to look, and she mentioned an artifact. She said she was our guide, but she didn’t actually know the city very well. And when it became clear to her that we didn’t know what she was on about, she signaled an ambush.”
“Also,” Zae added, “she and her companions were all undead. She was using a cosmetic to hide it.”
Yenna’s frown deepened the lines of age on her face. “I see.”
Keren remained at attention, mind racing, while the priestess turned to summon an acolyte. She handed over the bag and murmured quiet instructions. It wasn’t Keren’s place to make demands of her superiors, but she prayed with all her might that Yenna’s next words would be anything other than “that will be all.” Veena Heliu had not briefed them before the oddly hastened trip, and that made Keren suspicious enough already that something serious was happening somewhere. If they got no answers on the receiving end either, now that they’d stepped right into whatever it was, Keren would … well, she’d do nothing. She knew that. She’d accept the wisdom of her superiors and stay out of it, and go about her training. But she’d be frustrated. She had never met Kala, but Kala had been a fellow servant of Iomedae, and that was enough.
Yenna did not dismiss Keren. “Let’s continue this in private.”
Keren silently thanked Iomedae, dipped her head in reverence to the statue, and followed the priestess through a side door that opened onto back hallways and offices.
When Yenna’s lead widened, Zae shifted closer to Keren. “So this is the Seventh Church?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to the first six?”
“That’s not what it means. This is the church where Iomedae performed her Seventh Act—the calling of the Undenying Light.”
Yenna stopped at an empty room and gestured them in ahead of her. “In here, please. Is there anything you need?”
Keren shook her head slowly, trying and failing to turn her focus back to her own needs, but Zae said, “If it’s not too much trouble, ma’am, some water for my dog? We didn’t have a long trip, but it’s been an eventful one all the same.”
“I’ll have someone see to it.” She ushered them in but didn’t follow, continuing down the hall at a quick pace instead.
It was a modest, simple chamber, possibly meant for solitary prayer. There were no windows, but wall sconces gave the room gentle magical light. For decoration, a statuette of the goddess was mounted on the wall between two narrow tapestries of white and gold, and the furniture was minimal—a writing desk with a chair in front of it and a chair behind it. A silent acolyte appeared with another chair, waving Keren off when she tried to help. Keren sat, then stood again and paced the small room. The priestess had seemed displeased, but not surprised, by the evidence of Kala’s death. Keren wasn’t sure what to make of that.
Appleslayer shook out his fur and settled down by his gnome’s feet to groom.
Two more acolytes arrived, one carrying a tray with a pitcher of wine, glasses, and a plate of fruits and cheeses, and the other bringing a carafe of water and an empty bowl. Zae set the bowl beside Appleslayer and poured the water for him before pouring wine. When she handed Keren a glass their fingers brushed, but not for long enough.
Presently, Yenna returned and closed the door. In the soft conjured light of the inner chamber her features appeared gentler, though Keren saw streaks of white marbling the black of her short hair. Yenna sat straight, looking tired but unbroken—not even particularly ruffled. She took no refreshment for herself.
Definitely not surprised, then.
Keren set her glass back on the tray, armor clacking with the bend of her elbow. “Thank you, ma’am. I’m ready to be brought up to speed.” It was a calculated risk, breaking protocol to ask someone so far superior in rank to tell her what was going on, but she told herself that if Yenna had wanted to leave them in the dark she would have simply sent them on their way.
Yenna nodded shortly. “You want information. There’s little I can give you. Ju
st advice: be prepared and alert. Your introduction to Absalom was unfortunate, but probably not an isolated incident.”
“Why is there such open hostility against the order?” Iomedae was the goddess of justice and honor. While there were evil gods whose congregations included undead like the ones they’d faced, picking a fight with Iomedae would be near suicidal for them.
“Not against the order, as such. Go about your tasks as planned, both of you, just keep your eyes open.”
“So this wasn’t an attack against Zae and me personally, or against the order, or against Iomedae, but we should expect it to happen again.” I would like to know what I was nearly killed for, since I was apparently sent into it open-eyed by someone I’ve known and trusted since I was five. It wasn’t something Keren could say out loud. At the same time, she could still choose the nuance of her words to make her dissatisfaction known. “With respect, ma’am, we’ll be able to give better reports if we know what sort of information would be most helpful to you.”
Yenna pursed her lips. After a few moments, she folded her hands on the writing desk. “You said this false guide questioned you about an artifact.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“All right. Here’s the situation: We are currently searching for a particular artifact, and so is another interested party. We have our resources and they have theirs. We know they’ve been watching us; you are not the first new arrivals to be approached. The specifics change each time, but this is a sharp escalation in their tactics. I presume their agent followed Kala toward your arrival point, lured her off and killed her to take her place, and waited. When she saw you arrive, escorted by a high-ranking official, she assumed you were involved.”
Keren took a moment to digest this. “But you’re still using the same arrival points, despite previous … encounters. Did the precentor know what she was delivering us into?”
“Yes. With no disrespect to you, we’re using any unrelated travel to Absalom to our advantage, so that we can distract the opposing party from our actual investigators. Every distraction helps. They may be bringing reinforcements into the city, too, but so far we think their force is fairly small, and we aim to spread them thin. So if they dispatch someone to spend several hours watching the park, there’s somewhere else that they’re not watching.”
Pathfinder Tales--Gears of Faith Page 3