Amelin silently chastised herself. Outbursts of emotion were not good for the furry young raccomps sitting in a grid pattern on the dirt floor. The shieldstone walls of the barn protected them from all of the emotional signals from the outside world, but it would be for naught if her own emotions caused them to start pondering the meaning of existence and decide that computation was unimportant.
The older raccomps were standing in a row in front of the door. Amelin opened it and followed them into the weed-strewn garden between her cottage and the barn. As part of their training they had to go outside and operate in the conditions that they would face in the real world. Also, Amelin needed to be outside to access Arithmaton, her mathematics god. She sat down on the stump of a tree (it had been cut down to prevent its roots from damaging the barn,) and began drilling the raccomps. "What is the prime factorization of 37,489,756,753?"
After a short pause they answered, 337 times 3337 times 33337. Amelin asked a few similar questions, feeling oddly like a schoolmistress. That afternoon was her turn at the market for the Intelligent Raccomp Cooperative Company, and she hoped to have one of her own for sale. Although the raccomps had no reason to suspect that this was not an ordinary examination, it was being observed by the God of Raccomp Trade and Breeding. GORTAB would certify any raccomp that answered all of the questions correctly. Amelin proceeded with definite integrals and statistical analysis, checking the answers given by the raccomps with answers from Arithmaton.
At the end of the exam, only one of the raccomps had committed no errors. Amelin lifted it into her arms and allowed the others to return to the barn. She then traversed the short path to her cottage, and upon entering immediately noticed the order and cleanliness that were rare in her home. "It did a good job this time," she thought to herself. On the center of the dinner table where she left it was a certificate that now bore the seal of GORTAB. She shifted the raccomp to her right arm and picked the certificate up with her left. Elestra's voice began to flow into her mind.
Your cousin Rathan called while you were in the barn. He's in trouble.
"Oh? I suppose he is still having difficulty finding illusion work, and he desperately needs a short term loan, and he will pay me back as soon as possible, and thank you so much for not charging interest."
No, it's not-- well actually that's part of it-- he insisted that he tell you personally at his apartment. He said it was urgent.
"He wants me to go over there now?" Amelin quickly summoned Chronos-3. It was 11:05. "I have to be at the market at noon, and I haven't even called for a carriage. I just don't have time. Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
You know that I know better than to bother you when you're with the raccomps, and I already sent for a carriage. It should be here any minute. All I am is a personalized, multi-purpose messaging system. You could replace me with a raccomp.
"That is not true." Amelin was momentarily stricken with guilt.
While leaving her house to wait for her cab, she felt a cool breeze and held the warm, fluffy raccomp more tightly. Strange that something so logical and unfeeling could give such warmth. Looking around, she noticed that a few more of the daffodils in her garden had bloomed. The sky was clear, and Amelin decided that it was going to be a beautiful spring day; for the first
time this year, she did not even notice the chilly morning air while she was training the raccomps. When finally a driverless carriage stopped on the road in front of her, she walked up to the horse that pulled it and gave her ID number to it, "one, seven, seven, four, three, nine, two, one, four," pronouncing each digit carefully, so that the horse could relay the number to the taxi base, which would promptly take a few silvers from her bank account.
The horse neighed and shook its head uncertainly. "Do you want me to repeat that? Oh, my destination. Maple and 22nd." Amelin climbed into the carriage, lifting her skirt slightly to avoid contact with its grimy exterior, and sat down on the wooden bench inside. Graffiti covered the interior walls, mostly vulgar remarks. It never failed to surprise Amelin that people would cause as much petty destruction as they could get away with when there was no one watching over them. Of course, this cab had not been repainted in several years-- here was a complaint about the temporal mix-ups at the splitting of the Chronos monopoly, during the period known as the Troubles of Time. Those were days rife with political and ethereal scandal-- Belief was diverted from Chronos to an illegally created god, and some Council members were implicated. But for Amelin it was the happiest period of her life; Elestra was still alive, and Amelin and her friends were always meeting in caf‚s and exploring the city. As she examined the graffiti, the horse and carriage passed into less reputable neighborhoods, driven by the commands of an unseen conductor.
"No thank you. I'll stand."
"Suit yourself."
"Why did you want me to come? It wasn't to see your new throne illusion."
Rathan wrung his hands and turned his head away from Amelin, obviously ashamed of something. "Well, you see, it's like this...." It gradually became apparent that Rathan had suffered from a lapse of his already meager share of common sense. The previous night he had gotten himself roaring drunk and was somehow challenged to a duel, which in his intoxicated state he accepted. The man Rathan was to fight had let it slip that he had deeded half of his belief to Zarkenon, a disreputable god often implicated in organized crime, and that he was the greatest swordsman in all of Alifia. (Amelin suspected there were quite a few who would make such a claim; nevertheless, it was probably unwise to fight any of them.) Rathan would not have a chance in a duel, (although fortunately duels to the death were illegal,) and was afraid of illicit magic being used against him, and of the fine that would be imposed by the dueling pavilion if he did not turn up for the duel within its shieldstone walls. "I was just wondering if you might know of any protection gods that might be willing to help me out. I don't want to impose, and I know there isn't enough time to change my Beliefs beforehand, but I'll do anything to get out of this."
It would have to be Elestra; Amelin knew this even as she mentally searched through her Belief contract for something more appropriate: ten percent to various cooking, washing, and cleaning deities, ten percent to Arithmaton, two percent to Chronos-3, ten percent to the Health God as insurance, ten percent to GORTAB, and of course the obligatory fifteen percent to Liberty, the symbol of the government of Alifia, and eight percent to provincial and municipal gods. Sixty-five percent.
And thirty-five percent of Amelin's Belief belonged to Elestra, who had been killed by a band of robbers on the Coast Road only five years and a few days before. Amelin remembered the night of Elestra's funeral. That night, Amelin and her friends-- Tarri, Colithe, and Xana-- made Elestra into a goddess. They could not bring back her soul; different cults and religions could argue interminably about the fates of souls after death, but none could do anything about them. Even so, by binding together their memories of Elestra and using the power of belief, they were able to form a simulacrum of her soul.
Could Elestra do anything? A deity with only four believers doesn't have much power, except the ability to join its believers together. How could she doubt Elestra? She would think of something. If something were possible.
"Oh Rathan, don't you have any of your own gods you can use?"
"Are you kidding? I'm rapidly becoming a fifty-percenter for Debt Repayment. I don't have room for any superfluous Beliefs."
"Do you have any other friends you could ask?"
"No." Rathan's voice was soft, and his face fell. Wrong question. Amelin had trouble remembering that Rathan had made no friends at all in the two years since he came to the city to get away from their grandparents' farm.
Elestra, will you help?
It would be wonderful. You don't have to petition to me like i'm some high-and-mighty religious type. Also, you might want to check the time.
It was 11:45 by Chronos-3. "I have to leave." Amelin plucked the raccomp from the throne. "Oh, my goddess is taking on the problem." She ran awkwardly to the street with the raccomp tucked under one arm. Old Market District was still many blocks away, and she soon slowed to a fast walk. By the time she had arrived at the market and pressed through teeming crowds haggling over prices, finally reaching the Intelligent Raccomp Cooperative Company stand, she was out of breath, her legs sore.
"Hey, Ammy, I see you brought one of your own this time. It's been a good day for sales today. Probably on account of the weather. I'm going to go to lunch now. See you around!"
That was Kyl. Kyl was probably the best salesman in the company, and it disgusted Amelin, who could not sell a raccomp to save her life. The mention of lunch reminded her that she had not eaten, and would not be able to eat during the hours she would be behind the stand. Her stomach growled at her, but she could do nothing.
Amelin squeezed through the space between her stand and the neighboring one and placed her raccomp by the others on the shelf behind her. She then sat on the stool behind the counter to catch her breath. In front of her shoppers streamed by, eating pastries and bread cones filled with meat, but none stopped at her stall. The smells of these foods, of cedar and varnish from a nearby seller of wooden handicrafts, and the ubiquitous but faint scent of horse manure wafted through the market.
Elestra told us about your friend's problem. It sounds like a challenge. Tarri's presence. Amelin was glad that Elestra had explained the situation to the others; it meant that she would not have to do so.
I think it's stupid. Waste of time. Xana, ever the pessimist. I have work to do in the real world, so i might not be paying attention all of the time, if that is fine with all of you. It was true-- she was a nurse-- but Amelin thought Xana was being rude.
Hello?
Hello, I'm Elestra-- I took the liberty of calling Mr. Nicardon so we can get started.
Ah, you must be Amelin's goddess.
Amelin felt the slight hint of a thought that was not meant to be shared: . . . not belong to her. . .
I don't believe you know all of us; introductions are in order. I'm Elestra.
I'm Colithe. I work as a barmaid for a living-- not much of one.
A possible customer picked up a pamphlet from the counter in front of Amelin, jolting her back to reality. "Do you need any help?" Amelin used her most courteous voice. Meanwhile, Tarri and Xana introduced themselves to Rathan.
"No, thank you, I'm just looking around." The light-haired man in formal clothes finished gleaning the information he wanted from the pamphlet and, in one motion, returned the pamphlet to the counter and turned to walk away.
The others had finished introducing themselves. You know me.
I wasn't expecting a-- what do you call it-- a believer's circle. I mean i'm not used to seeing people on such intimate terms with gods. I should have known. . . . Rathan's thoughts faded out.
You deserve an explanation of how this-- how I-- happened. Elestra seemed reluctant to tell the story, but Amelin conceded that it was something that Rathan would have to learn eventually.
I think I already know.
Amelin was startled. What? I never told you; how did you find out?
No, i don't expect that you ever told me anything that was important to you. Damn it, I read the same ten-copper novels as everyone else. A bunch of criminals kill this poor innocent lady, and her friends make a goddess in her image and use her to get revenge on the nasty bandits. Oh, all of the names were changed, but the details match everything that i know about amelin and the rest of you.
Rathan had struck an old wound, one that Amelin thought had almost healed. Only months after their ordeal had ended, Tarri wrote an account of it and had it published under a pseudonym. At the time, Amelin could not see how Tarri could stand to profit from what had happened, and to reveal, however disguised, what was to Amelin a very private experience. Now she realized how writing about her experiences helped Tarri to recover.
I especially liked that line where Medalin-slash-Amelin comments about how she is worried that her parents will disown her and she will have to live in the middle of nowhere with her "bastard cousin."
Sorry. Tarri's wince came clearly through the mindlink. Amelin thought that she should be the one to apologize, as the incident probably had a precedent in reality, but she did not send that thought. In the moment that then passed without any thoughts being sent, she noticed that a gust of wind was threatening to blow the pamphlets off the counter. She replaced the wooden block that was there to hold them down, thinking that if Kyl was there he would have been able to make a speech that would have made the man who left buy the most expensive raccomp there.
Colithe broke the silence. Does anyone have any idea how we can get Rathan out of this mess?
Elestra answered, Well, before we do anything else, it would be helpful to know against whom rathan is going to fight.
Or not fight, hopefully. I'm sorry, I have no idea who it was. I was completely ploughed. I don't usually drink-- it's just that-- never mind.
What is it? Amelin wondered what would cause Rathan to get drunk. As far as she knew, he was a teetotaler.
Just forget it.
What bar did you go to?
The Embezzled God
Uh-oh. That was where Colithe worked.
Really? That's where I work. I don't think I saw you last night. You must have been there before my shift.
Possibly. It was before sunset.
I think i have an idea how to figure out who this guy is. As an employee, i have access to the numbers of everyone who made purchases there. If you know what he drank, i should be able to call it up and get his number. Unless he drank something common. Or he paid in coin.
I don't think it was common. As for coin, it probably cost a few silvers, but nobody uses coin anymore. I think it was called a senko's descent. Or something.
Well! I shouldn't expect that something capable of knocking out a horse would be common. All right-- i am looking at last night's purchase record_ senko's descent, three numbers-- 2536-178-2--
Uh, that's me.
Tsk, tsk. 5445-468-6 and 5455-468-6.
Amelin noticed the similarity and checked Arithmaton. The last one is wrong. The check digit doesn't check.
The what?
The last digit of a ID number is equal to the last digit of the sum of the others. It's there so that errors can be checked. Which, apparently, your raccomp failed to do.
I get the point. If we need a new raccomp, i'll recommend you to the owner. 5445-468-6 then. Now what?
Elestra answered. I'll look it up on the belief register. It should give his name and beliefs. There was a moment's pause as the information went through the brains of raccomps somewhere. Arlant sah. Mostly normal beliefs. Chronos, Hippocrates-- ah, this is odd. He is a fifty'center for Hippocrates.
The health god? Are you certain that you have the right number? What would a dueler want with him? This was the first time that Xana had sent a thought since the beginning of the session.
To heal his wounds? Amelin thought that was plausible, but Xana's tone indicated that she knew better than anyone about such matters. She was in an occupation that required knowledge of Hippocrates and dueling wounds. Nevertheless, it couldn't hurt to ask. To heal his wounds?
Of course not. The medics at the dueling centers use their own belief percentage for that. If he was involved in unauthorized dueling-- but then most people who do that are too stupid to be that careful. Besides, he is fighting rathan through normal channels.
Or not fighting.
The dueling place must have a register. We could look at that to see if this is the person rathan is going to fight or not fight. Who wants to look it up?
Amelin took Colithe's suggestion. She linked with the Alifia Directory, found the access number for the Dueling Pavilion, linked through that number, and asked for a current list of bouts. Rathan was scheduled to fight Sah in the third duel that evening. There is no mistake; we have the right number. Should have checked here first.
They still had no idea as to how they would stop Rathan's opponent, even though they knew his name. They spent a long time-- hours, it seemed-- following false leads, learning nothing new. It was probably only twenty minutes, but they were ready to give up and wish Rathan well in his duel. Finally, Colithe advanced a strategy that sounded promising.
Amelin, did the dueling pavilion register list the numbers of fighters in past bouts? We might be able to call a former opponent of this guy. At least we should learn something about his style of fighting.
It doesn't matter. I've never even held a sword; i won't be able to study his techniques and counter them.
Amelin paid no attention to Rathan and relinked with the dueling register. A few quick queries later, she had the name and number of Arlant Sah's last opponent. This man dueled against arlant sah last week. Lost in seven minutes, forty-eight seconds. Should we call him?
They did. The distinctive mental voice of a man who has aged beyond his prime, the voice of an old man overlaid with the memory of how he sounded in his youth, penetrated through the crowds of shoppers passing her stand and grabbed Amelin's attention.
Who is calling?
Amelin paused, unsure of what she should say. Colithe answered instead, If it wouldn't be a bother, we would like to know about Arlant Sah. A friend of ours is going to be dueling against him soon, and we thought you might know something about him.
Sah. He was my student once. He was a natural at dueling, but he had no discipline. A few years ago he quit coming to my classes, said he was ready to go professional. He wasn't. I saw his first match; he lasted maybe a minute. That was the last I heard of him until a few weeks past this midwinter. I learned that he got one of my new students drunk and challenged him to a duel, and that he had done the same to other novice swordsmen around town. Sah beat him in almost no time at all; the boy he fought knew nothing about dueling. I wasn't mad at either of them, seeing as the kid learned an important lesson, and Sah taught it to him, but I challenged him anyway. I thought that I could humiliate him into doing more with his life than duel novices and take his portion of their fees. We arranged to meet before the duel. He had the gall to try the same thing on me that he did to my student-- offered me alcohol. I refused, but he imbibed an obscene amount himself, so I figured my odds of putting him down were in proportion to the volume he put down.
But it didn't happen that way. He scored a hit early, and-- oh, I imagine you don't want to hear the details of the fight, although I remember all of them clearly. He won. I was presumptuous in thinking that I would quickly walk over him. I am older than I once was. But I have no excuse for losing to an drunken man. Am I so old?
He was sober. Xana's statement surprised everyone. Before Amelin could ask for an explanation, Xana continued, Sir, thank you very much for this information. If it is any consolation, i have reason to suspect that sah was not intoxicated during the incident you described. Good-bye.
Wha--
Xana had broken the connection. It occurred to Amelin that the poor instructor was as confused as she was and deserved to know what strange deductive leap Xana had taken. Given Xana's demeanor, it would be useless to reprove her for the way she cut him off. Meanwhile, Tarri asked Xana to explain herself.
Isn't it obvious? The reason he has the maximum percentage in hippocrates is so he can use it to detoxify himself. He tries to impress people by being able to hold alcohol, and if they follow his example, he takes advantage of their state by getting them into a duel which they have no chance of winning.
That would explain why he was able to order two of those drinks. I'm not kidding; one is enough to make most people pass out.
With Colithe's piece of evidence, Xana's statements began to make sense. But Amelin did not see how this knowledge could help matters. This time Xana did not hesitate to elucidate. If i know Hippocrates, he wouldn't want his belief used this way, and he is only allowing this to happen because he doesn't know about it. He spends most of his belief on helping patients, not monitoring for fraud. But if we tell him, he might be willing to fail to remove the alcohol from this man's system, and if he is drunk enough, it should tilt the odds somewhat.
Amelin saw only one problem with the plan. How can we be sure that he will drink anything tonight?
Rathan answered, He invited me to come to the same bar today before the duel. I didn't mention it because I really didn't want to go, but if we need to give him a taste of his own medicine, I can't think of a better way.
Right, I'll contact hippocrates and see what he thinks. A moment later Xana cursed. Hippocrates spends his belief helping patients, not answering calls.
Let me try. Almost instantly Elestra acknowledged that she reached Hippocrates, and a minute later she terminated the call. He said he would do it unless Sah's alcohol level rises too high.
The group agreed to meet that evening at Colithe's bar, and concluded the session.
"Here, this is for you," Tarri handed Amelin the skewer.
"How did you know? I didn't mention that I was hungry--"
"Xana noticed somehow and told me. She's so sensitive." Tarri meant sensitive in the psychic sense, not the social. Yet it was Xana's sensitivity that had caused her to be hurt the worst by Elestra's death. Amelin always thought back to those days whenever Xana did something to annoy her. She could not find it in her heart to feel anything but pity for Xana.
"So. How is Xana?" A stupid question. There was no reason that Tarri should have known any more than Amelin, but she had to say something. The truth was that neither of them knew much about Xana's doings of late.
"She's still involved with that Nyelav fellow. I expect that they'll get married."
"This is the same woman who swore never to touch a man for the rest of her life. Time changes everything." Amelin licked the dripping fat from the meat chunks off of her hand and bit into a piece. "I don't know how to thank you for this," she said after pausing to finish chewing and swallowing.
"Don't worry, I was coming to the market in any case. Well-- I'll see you tonight."
"Good-bye." As Tarri left, Amelin began to devour the remainder of her food.
Xana and Tarri greeted him, but Colithe immediately giggled, then stopped.
"What is it?" Xana asked.
"Nothing. I'll tell you later."
Rathan pulled up an empty chair from a neighboring table and glanced uneasily toward a well-built man sitting at the bar and drinking a mug of ale. "That's him. I don't think he noticed me coming in."
"You know what to do." Amelin tried to reassure him. Rathan stood, then hesitated for a moment, understandably afraid to confront his adversary, but he renewed his resolve and walked up to the seat next to Sah's.
"Are you ready to rid yourself of some excess blood?" Rathan asked as he sat down.
"No, I expect I will need a leech for that. It's your own blood that you should worry about," Sah answered. He sounded confident, not like a villain at all, but rather like a person for whom the dueling was a job. "I propose a toast. May the best man win. Meaning myself of course. Ah, but you have nothing to toast with. Bartender, get this man a Quadruple Headcrusher. And one for myself as well." The swordsman gulped the last of his ale and belched loudly. Watching him from the table, Amelin feared that he would notice his drunkenness before he became too inebriated to recover. Even as she thought this, Rathan and his rival completed the toast, each slipping the contents of his glass past his lips. Sah reeled back in his seat
and Rathan, as Amelin stifled a shout to him, spit a mouthful of brown fluid back into his glass, and then walked back to their table.
"Um. I don't think I've told any of you yet, but the dueling place requires a fee from everyone who's signed up, and I just don't--"
"How much?" Amelin was quite accustomed to Rathan's circuitous method of asking for a loan, but it would save everyone time and pain if it were over with as soon as possible.
"Two hundred silvers. But if I win I'll get it all back." It was a large sum. Amelin was instinctively reluctant to give it to him. As she was considering the amount already owed to her, Xana spoke up.
"You may borrow it from me. I am expecting a promotion soon."
"You are? Congratulations!" Then Amelin remembered something about Xana and promotions. "Wait. Is this the same promotion that you couldn't accept because they wanted more of your Belief than you could give them? Where will you get the percentage?" Almost before she had finished saying this, Amelin knew. When Xana failed to answer, her fears were confirmed.
"How could you? How could you do this to Elestra?"
"Elestra is dead. What we have set up in her place is not Elestra. She may have the same voice, the same mannerisms, even the same personality, but she is not Elestra. I do not want to use my sensitivity as an excuse-- I've done that too often, I know-- but she does not feel the same. And it cannot be denied that she lacks the memories of the original, and that memories make us what we are."
"What do you mean? She is all we have of Elestra. If the only memories she has are those that we have remembered for her, still she is Elestra more than anything else can be. She is our friend. How can you betray her, betray us?"
Xana's voice cracked. "Don't you see? She's been dead for five years now. I know how horrible it was, but most people would be over it by now. I am only trying to help all of you."
Amelin tried to think of a rebuke, but Elestra interrupted her. Please, stop fighting. Xana is right. I am not Elestra. If my only memories were the ones that you have given me, then it might have been different. But I have lived five years in the overworld, conversing with other deities, learning about the uses of belief from a different perspective. I spend more of my attention on this world than I have told you. Why do you think I was able to make the deal with Hippocrates? He is a good friend of mine. No, I am not the Elestra you knew, but I am still a living being. And all of you know that the amount of belief necessary to maintain a living, thinking being is not much less than the amount you have invested in me. Although Xana is right, Elestra is dead and I am the reason that you still feel her death so keenly, I had hoped that you could accept me for myself. I cannot blame Xana for the way she feels. She feels revulsion towards me because I act like Elestra while I send psychic currents so different from hers. Even so, she has tolerated me for many years, for your sakes. She has waited for you to find another to give belief in her place. And if she decides that my time has come, than I can do no better than to approach the dignity of my namesake in death. Yet I cannot help but want to live.
Tears were trickling from Xana's eyes. "I never wanted to hurt anyone. All I have ever wanted is to keep people from being hurt." With those words, Xana fled from the tavern into the descending twilight.
Rathan broke the long silence that followed. "I have to go now. The dueling place called; they want me there a half hour beforehand. I don't know how to thank all of you for helping me out."
"See you," Tarri called out as Rathan left.
"Funny," Colithe said, "I never told Xana why I laughed when Rathan came in." Amelin understood that, "never told," meant, "never would be able to tell." Colithe continued, "I think I saw Rathan last night after all. There is a room behind the bar where we keep people who have passed out until they can leave on their own power. So nobody goes through their pockets or anything. It's a service.
"So I saw him there. He looked pathetic; his hair and clothes were crumpled. But I didn't think about it at the time, because that's how they all look."
"I thought Rathan was rather handsome," Tarri said, almost defensively.
"You should have seen him then. You wouldn't think so."
Tarri and Colithe talked a while longer, but Amelin stopped listening when she realized that she still felt Elestra's presence, although she sent no thoughts. That meant that Xana had not transferred the percentage. Why did she wait? Amelin almost wished for the end to come, for the suspense to be broken, but all remained normal as they left to watch the duel.
Amelin found a seat in the fourth row; Tarri and Colithe followed. There were few spectators, but why had she expected more? The riotous mobs of fans that she had heard about would only attend the matches between masters. That the Pavilion was open to anyone with a dispute was due to an obsolete law meant to stop the use of Belief in influencing the outcome of duels. Belief in illicit gods was less common than when the law was passed, swordsmen could safely work their trade in dueling houses not covered with expensive shieldstone, and most disputes could be settled in the courts.
On the stage, (the altar?) two masked and padded duelers clumsily jabbed at each other with dulled blades. Even Amelin could see that they were not professionals. Eventually, one was declared winner and the other dejectedly slouched off to the back of the stage, though Amelin could not see what event precipitated this change.
Then, just as suddenly, two names were announced, "Arlant Sah versus Rathan NiCardon." Two men walked to the center of the stage, one unsure of where exactly he was to stand, the other staggering, using his sabre for balance. They both wore dirty torn suits that must have been lent to them by the Pavilion. A quick sequence of drum beats sounded, the signal for the start of the bout. A moment of complete motionlessness ensued, as each seemed to defer to the other's judgement. Then the sober one raised his sword and brought its flat edge down upon the head of his opponent, who proceeded to lose his balance. Any residual conciousness was removed when his head hit the ground with an echoing thud.
"I never told you why I went to a tavern yesterday in the first place." Amelin had thought about it that afternoon, but now she was no longer merely curious about Rathan's reason; she cared about his welfare as one can only be concerned for a friend. "I had to celebrate. Debt Repayment used its influence to get me a job doing illusion ads. It pays well, and I get some creative input."
"Why couldn't you tell me before?"
"Because I didn't believe it. I would have bankrupted myself on the dueling fee, gotten slashed up a bit, and if that wouldn't be enough to make me lose the job, being thrown out of my apartment, as would have been likely rather soon if I couldn't pay my rent, should have done the trick."
"I thought that you had a special deal with the landlord, that he let you off in return for what you do to his building."
"It only goes so far." They stopped at an intersection as an empty carriage passed, then continued. "Strange, the money was the only thing that I cared about at the time. But now-- I'm not so sure. I will find some way to pay Xana back."
They walked further in silence, and Amelin noticed how close Tarri was to Rathan on his left. Could there be something to that? As the lights of the Embezzled God were becoming discernable, he turned toward Amelin and began to speak. "Now that I have a job-- I'm going to have some Belief freed from Debt Repayment, and I was wondering if, if maybe I could give some of it to Elestra."
Amelin thought about it. Before that night, she would have considered it heresy to allow anyone to give Belief to Elestra who had not known her. Life would not be the same, but Amelin could see no reason that it would be anything but better. Rathan should join us, she thought.
Look, I think that I should be the one making this decision. Rathan, it would be wonderful.
Elestra's voice sounded as it always had, but to Amelin it felt different.