Someone needed to strangle the mage controlling the weather.

It turned out that my new, wonderfully warm skin did have its limits, and among those limits were constant, cold, biting wind mixed with overcast skies and the light occasional drizzle.

Water slid off my skin that wasn't covered, usually gliding off the scales without penetrating deeper inside. No, it was the constant chill wind that was finally biting past my newfound tolerance and making me shiver even with a coat.

The hells were with them? The morning had been unnaturally warm to melt all the snow, and now this nonsense was all the cold of the winter night without any snow to go with it.

Worse, I was stuck on foot and alone. I'd shed all the hanger-ons for my next stop.

Melissa wanted to stay around the Gardens, supposedly to investigate. More than likely, to see what information she could get out of the others. Hopefully, she restricted her targets to Voltar and Gregory. I'd been tempted to try to get her to come along just so she wouldn't be out of my sight, but trying to be controlling wouldn't end well. She was suspicious of me already. Straining what little bond we had would be more likely to snap it than anything else.

Gregory was there to try and get more information out of Gallaspie, and he'd also mentioned trying to get in contact with his own church to smooth things over for my visit later.

Tagashin had things to do with Voltar, things she couldn't and Voltar wouldn't tell me about. I expected the official freezing me out of this, I'd been warned about, would arrive soon. End of the day at the latest.

Of course, being alone and on foot meant not having the safety of wooden walls and swift movement. I should at least be grateful that so far, it was just stares.

Not too many. I was inside the Silver Road now. People knew to give this place a wide berth. Anyone living here had earned their place through plenty of magical firepower, no guild journeywoman or apprentice Delver to be found here.

Annoyingly, I was still getting glances and stares despite the fact that a person across the street from me was eight feet tall and also on fire.

It was hard to keep the bitterness at bay. These people summoned creatures every day that were even stranger than I was. If you brought a djinn or an elemental to another district, there was a good chance they'd get just as many stares.

I faltered a bit in my walk. I hadn't when I was here the day before yesterday, but today I was, and there had to be a reason for that. But what? More news leaking out about the killings? It was easy to guess where the blame of the masses would land for that. But still, so soon felt..strange. Maybe it was just more noticeable today than it had been.

Yelling shook me out of my musings, shrieks filled to the brim with righteous anger.

"-it is my property! You have no right to take it from me! A thousand curses upon you, that your bones may age to dust, that the souls of your victims haunt your every waking moment, that you stub your toe on every doorway you pass through!"

I recognized that voice, unfortunately. The last time I'd heard it, it had been screaming in a similar tone about a rotating tower knocking chunks off his mansion. Worse, as I rounded the corner, the screaming had attracted a crowd right next to my destination, thick enough that while I could see the Vesper manor, I couldn't see what was causing the commotion.

Okay, well, at least it wasn't Alberta screaming. I could see this being an unfortunately common occurrence with her father.

I made my way through the crowd, weaving my way through. For once, things went a little in my way because a decent chunk of the crowd didn't want to come in contact with me. I still did my best to be as non-obtrusive as possible. Making a pest of myself would not be ideal in a mage-heavy crowd. Worse, old money mages not only tended to hold long grudges, but they also had the power to make you really regret them.

I eventually snaked my way to the front, next to a smug-looking elf in golden robes. The same one the elder Vesper had been yelling at the last time I'd left. Malkerath?

I was more focused on the people in front of the mansion. The elder Vesper was out, on one side of the fence, lined face flushed red with anger as he faced over a dozen people on the other side of it. Clad in grey and black robes, most of them bore necklaces with hourglasses on them. Right across from the gate stood Lilian Derrick.

The Slayer looked better than she had last time I saw her, still moving gingerly as could be expected. No matter her actual age, or how well she'd tried to keep in shape, the curse put on her by the lich had taken quite a toll on her. She looked tired and annoyed, a thin facade of politeness layered on top as she kept an ornate lantern away from Vesper.

My eyes snapped immediately to it. It glowed a pale yellow, with triangular patterns on the surface of the glass burning brightly, smoke billowing out of holes in the bottom.

"Is that a soul lantern?" I asked incredulously.

The elf chuckled, thinking I was addressing him and not the still-silent Imp. "Yes, oh yes it is. Vesper, you have let your obsessions finally consume you, and I get to be on the front seat to watching you get consumed by the fires of the hells."

Okay, someone was getting far into this, I thought, my eyes still focused on the ornate lantern.

Soul lanterns were magic tools, but not ones you saw very often because of what they did. Storing souls, and not usually animal souls. A favorite tool of Necromancers, Diabolists, and all the other kinds of magic disciplines that used the souls of mortals in their magic for different purposes. Also, the kinds of magic are most regulated or banned inside Anglea. Including functional Soul Lanterns themselves.

"You knew about it this entire time!" Vesper was shrieking. "I never did anything to hide it, you never commented on it, and now you choose to come and steal my property from me?"

"Yes, I knew you had it," Derrick said, the layer of patience over the tension in her voice barely covering it. "I also thought it was disabled! And then I came here on a hunch, and it works! These things are illegal, Chalbert!"

"Illegal to make," the old man hissed, the shadow at his feet deepening as he glared at Derrick. "Not illegal to own, not when it's inherited, which that is. You are seizing my property!"

Behind him, the mansion shuddered, shutters slamming open as something howled inside. Ghostly wails were followed by spectral limbs reaching out of windows. The Zavielan priests' unease grew as they drew tighter around Derrick, who raised a single arm, expression reluctant but resolute.

Was she going to-?

"Don't you dare!"

Alberta Vesper appeared in the front door of the manor, hollow cheeks flushed red with anger as she stormed down to the gate, a flowing red dress with streaks of black trailing hellfire as she swiftly crossed the distance between the manor and her father.

"Ah," Derrick said, seeming even more like she wanted to be anywhere else but here. "Alberta. Could you please instruct your father that I am within my rights to seize this, and that unless he wishes to spend his night in a cell, he should-"

"Enough, Derrick," Alberta Vesper said from her front door, staring imperiously down at the rest of us. Her dress flared, black flames trailing along the fabric as she walked down to the gate. Sneering and snarling faces pressed against its surface as flames began to travel along the ground as well. "I see the years have not made you any less impetuous."

"Ah," Derrick said tiredly, frown deepening. "I see they haven't made you any less inclined to dramatics. Did getting dressed take too long?"

Okay, it was time to intervene before I ended up watching a cat fight between a diabolist and a death priest, with a side of angry necromancer adding to the mix.

"Mrs. Vesper!" I called out, moving out of the crowd. Immediately, half the Zavielian priests turned around, hands raised threateningly towards me. I kept my own held up placatingly, empty and hopefully harmless-looking. "And Slayer Derrick as well, how nice it is to see you again! I hope I'm not interrupting anything too important?"

I clearly was, but I was hoping being disarmingly cheerful would well, disarm the two of them. At least make them stop metaphorically biting each other.

"Miss Harrow," Slayer Derrick said, a confused look on her face as she looked me over. "Why are you a fish?"

My eyelid twitched. This literally was going to be my entire day, wasn't it?

"I think I look more like a shark than a fish, surely," I replied calmly.

"That is not a shark's tail, Miss Harrow," Alberta Vesper said in amusement, a slight smile on her face. "Make your peace with the fact you are a fish."

"Trout," the elder Vesper commented, tone still bitter as he moved to his daughter's side.

"Trout aren't that colorful, Father," Alberta said. "Well, perhaps rainbow trout."

"Well, regardless of my fishiness, I am here because I have some questions for Ms. Vesper," I said, eager to get this topic as far off my own appearance as possible. "I am surprised to see you, Slayer Derrick. I would have thought you were recuperating after what happened."

"I'm glad to see the same of you, Miss Harrow," Derrick replied, and took a few steps away from the gate, seeing her opportunity to leave. "Well, Alberta, I would hardly rob you of any time with your new guest, so I will leave. Falkirk, Drummond!"

The Zavielan priests fell in a loose circle around her as she headed off, the crowd parting ahead of her.

The elder Vesper ground his teeth, staring daggers at the departing priestess, but didn't otherwise move, issue threats, or anything else. All the signs of necromancy crawling on his manor had disappeared. His expression fell, then, without a word, he stormed back inside his manor.

Robbed of their entertainment, most of the crowd was already beginning to drift away as I went to the gate opposite Alberta. She was glaring still at the retreating Derrick, but eventually tore her gaze away to look at me instead.

"Dipped a bit too deeply into the diabolical, have you?" Alberta said to me. "I'll admit, changes this dramatic so quickly are most unusual. I imagine you have quite the story to tell."

"I do," I admitted. "You have already looked at the cause of the change, I believe."

Her eyes widened slightly, swiftly followed by her smile. "Oh, so you're the one who decided to play a game of wills with a piece of hell glutted on souls. You probably know this by now, but that was an incredibly stupid idea."

"I couldn't agree more," I replied. "Desperation is what drove it in the end. Hopefully I'll never have to repeat the experience."

Her lips quirked. "The road leading to most diabolists ending their careers prematurely probably begins with their attempting diabolism they swore they'd never try again. Soon after, Zaviel will darken their door, much like their servant has darkened mine."

"The Slayer does have her reasons," I said quietly, hoping not to provoke the elder Vesper. "After all, there is danger involving the ritual circles, a device for transferring souls is-"

"Not so rare she needed to come here to rip one out of my father's hands," Alberta said, sharply. "Especially not one she didn't even think could work. No, this is her being petty again."

I took a sip of my tea, being cautious given the anger brewing in the face across from me. "I got the impression that Slayer Derrick got on fine with your father. He seemed to like her last time I was here, and she seemed to share the same opinion."

"Lilian Derrick, like too many people, sees my father as an old man in his twilight years who's just far enough out of reality to be amusing," Alberta said venomously.

I held my tongue on that. I didn't have any real insight into that besides the opinions of those two, and voicing my own opinion on Alberta Vesper's father seemed unwise.

"She also dislikes me when I caught her making out with my son in the bushes right outside my front door," Alberta continued. "Apparently, I was worse than all the devils combined for others noticing when my son tried to stammer out an explanation."

"Forbidden romance?" I asked lightly.

Alberta's face became even stormier. "Far from it. I wish I had, before she decided to drag him up north with foolish notions about coming back heroes for ending Charlie Fawlkes' rebellion."

"Ah," I said, sobering immediately.

"It's fitting that girl is in Zaviel's service," Alberta said, staring bitterly at the retreating Derrick and entourage. "She killed my only child, and my line at the same time."

I'd stepped into the middle of a much thornier issue than I'd initially expected.

"My apologies for treating the subject lightly then," I offered. "I didn't mean to dredge up painful memories."

"You weren't the one who dredged them up," Alberta said, taking her baleful gaze off of Derrick. "Well, I suppose you want to discuss why you came here. Come, let us have some tea."

***

The tea really was delightful.

I sipped contentedly at a cup, enjoying the sensation of the flavor evolving in my mouth before I swallowed, leaving an aftertaste I could subsist on for minutes before taking another drink.

Not that we were at risk of running out, the Vesper servants had wheeled out an entire pot to share between the two of us. It had startled me for a bit to realize that the butler pouring was not breathing. The undead looked extremely lifelike, skin seemingly unpreserved and living.

I didn't have the nerve to risk the entire visit by asking if it was because the corpses were fresh.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Alberta's father had declined tea, having gone to his basement. To sulk and comfort himself with the few remaining tools that Derrick had not confiscated, Alberta told me.

We'd idly chatted for ten minutes now, as I let the tea take the anger out of Alberta. Trying to negotiate anything while the anger from Derrick's visit simmered just below the surface, waiting for just the right prick to explode out of the other diabolist would be…unwise.

We'd spent some time cursing the city mages handling the weather in the most polite terms either of us could manage.

"Truth be told, I think they're as confused as everyone else," Alberta confided in me. "I have a friend. They don't really get to choose the weather themselves."

True. Much like everything else, all things flowed from the Crown. "Which of the royals do you think wants us cold and miserable?"

"Possibly none of them," she said. "Her Majesty in particular doesn't even venture outside most days. She's inside plotting with her generals, is what I've heard."

Oh. Another campaign, already? We'd had two this decade, and while both were decades neither seemed to be giving any kind of return on what had been invested in victory. The dwarves had been both costly in the fighting and after when the mines Her Majesty had wanted flooded with monsters. What little I'd heard from soldiers returning from Avenland made it sound like that conquest had been only slightly less tainted. Fighting had grown so fierce the only thing that had fertilized those fields was blood and corpses.

"Any idea where she wants to send her ever-victorious army next?" I asked neutrally.

Expressing doubt was hardly an offense worth getting tossed in the Coffin for, but I had no idea where Alberta stood on the matter.

"Overseas," Alberta said, then snorted. "Sorry, that doesn't give much of an idea anymore, does it?"

Not really, when the only things still nominally independent were enclaves of allies from the Queen's war against Her Most Infernal Majesty. And even those were in doubt after the war against he dwarves.

"The Hells?" I suggested lightly, and Alberta chuckled.

Yes, if there was one thing that we could probably count on, it was Her Majesty not repeating the error that led to her bloodthirsty predecessors' rise.

"Speaking of the hells," she said. "Maybe you can finally tell me why you are here? I doubt you came here for my tea."

She would be surprised by the things I would do just to have some good tea, but it was clearly time for business now.

"I'm hoping you were one of the people they called to examine the ritual circles involved in the priest killings. I'd like to know what you found."

"Is that what they are being called?"

"It's what I'm calling them. Did you see them?"

"The better question," Alberta said after sipping at her tea. "If I did, why should I help you?"

"I'll offer you my body," I said right as she took another sip.

After a few seconds of sputtering and coughing, she managed to clear the errant drink from her lungs. Then, another couple of seconds of silent glaring at me before she spoke again.

"You timed that one purpose," she accused. "And besides that, I am not in the mood for jokes, Miss Harrow. My father has avoided imprisonment mostly because he's considered too harmless to be a threat, which means I'll have to make sure he doesn't do some foolheaded plot to get his lantern back. Also, I am-"

"I wasn't lying," I said, deciding to interrupt before I got more information than I wanted. "I hold no responsibility for where your mind went. I meant for study. Tell me, how many living Infernals warped by Diabolism have you had a chance to examine?"

"Hrrm," Alberta said, a glint in her eyes. I was already regretting putting that there. "You are correct, most who change this drastically this fast are usually dead. Of course, I would be risking Imperial Intelligence's own tolerance for me by doing this, since I got the impression that you are soon to be on the outs with them."

"I'd love to know why you have that impression," I said. "But I think I'd settle for just help on this case, if it's only an impression you're getting of it."

Alberta frowned slightly, putting her teacup back on its saucer. "I have seen them, and the offer is tempting. But why are you so desperate to know it? You dangle much more in Intelligence's lifeline than I do. Why risk it?"

I considered the ripping tea in my own cup, considering the question. Why was I choosing to make waves? Why push when I could simply let myself be pulled out of this entire mess? Intelligence wouldn't actually let a Hellgate be opened; there was no benefit to anyone for doing so.

Why was I insisting on being involved?

"I don't know if I can give you an answer that I fully believe in myself," I confessed. "Maybe it's just my pride, but I need to be involved."

"Afraid the entire thing will collapse without you?" Alberts asked teasingly.

"At the risk of sounding conceited, yes," I replied.

Alberta nodded, then leaned back, contemplating her teacup.

"How much do you know about religion, Miss Harrow?" Alberta asked me.

I blinked. Not the kind of question I was expecting.

"Generally, my experience with it has been that it hates me and wants me dead," I replied drily. "I've been told by others that is specific to just one deity, but it's taking me a while to come around to that idea."

"I imagine Halspus's priesthood prefers it that way," Alberta said. "I'm assuming you know how a diabolist with a patron devil channels their power?"

"Of course," I replied.

"Well, for the purposes of this conversation, consider a cleric's relationship with their deity similar to a less-one sided version of a Devil's patronage of a Diabolist. A deity provides power in the same way as a devil would, but is much less controlling in most cases than a devil is. Also more limiting, since most devils don't mind their pawns burning themselves out if they don't need them for a scheme, and there's other differences as well, but the key one is that a connection between cleric and deity is just that, a connection that flows both ways unlike the one-sided relationship between devil and diabolist."

I cocked my head to the side. "Interesting, but how does it factor intro this?"

"By being much more of a factor than the souls in the circles," she told me, lowering her voice to a whisper.

I leaned in, tea completely forgotten.

"The number of souls in the circle is far more than would be needed for the ritual," Alberta Vesper told me, and I breathed in.

That…a lot fell into place if that was the case. Some explanations for why it was being treated so casually by Intelligence. If there were already enough souls still in the killers' hands, then the only limiting factor was crafting more of the ritual circles.

"Are you certain?" I asked, getting a scathing glare from her.

"I've been practicing this craft longer than you've been alive," Alberta said. "I think I've earned some confidence in my abilities. The souls of the priests are the keys, not the souls being collected. They need some as fuel, but the cornerstones are those priests and their souls. Pledged to the light, seeped in the dark. Pure in intent, turned corrupt by their powers. Do you know how often priests of the pantheon have turned to diabolism before?"

"Given the official answer is zero, I'm guessing at least an unofficial number above that," I said. "But not too many?"

"Many," Alberta said. "But the wrong kind. People willing to throw away the divine in favor of the power of the diabolical, oh, that happens quite a bit. And each time it's amusing watching the amount of work put into to trying and hide that it ever happened. But again, the wrong kind. Want to take a guess at the right kind?"

I leaned back in my chair. "From context, I'm guessing retaining the ability to cast divine magic?"

"Yes in part," Alberta said with an enthusiastic nod. "Just a piece of the puzzle, but a big one. Still having devotion to one's deity and their approval to use their magic is the other. Because then you have a connection forged between deity and priest, and that's a toehold into the deity. A toehold filled with diabolism."

"Sounds like an excellent way to weaken a deity, kill it maybe," I said. "Opening Hellgates would be tangentially related."

"Not if one's target is the pantheon and its country instead of the individual deities," Alberta replied.

I frowned. "How?"

"It took me a while to get where the ritual was aimed at," Alberta said. "I thought it was too broad at first, until I realized that no, it had been built in such a way that it all fit in the scope of the sacrifices."

"And how would that be?" I asked, trying not to get impatient.

She grinned. "What is the bedrock of Anglea?"

I frowned. History? Alright. "Back four thousand years ago, when an Anglean warlord named-"

"Apologies, modern Anglea's bedrock."

I rolled my eyes, then pursed my lips. Modern? Modern defined how? I suppose the closest thing would be the reign of Her Majesty, which started with the-oh.

"The overthrowing of Her Most Infernal Majesty," I whispered.

Alberta nodded. "Precisely. The founding bedrock, not just of the current incarnation of Angela, but also the pantheon of deities that it is home to, is the rejection and overthrow of the Diabolic. The rejection of its influence, in forms both great and small."

"A bedrock that got fractured when deities started approving of their practitioners using diabolism," I muttered. "How did that get missed?"

"If one had to guess, because they expected the Hells to be as blind to us as we are to the Hells," Alberta said. "The Hells in general have few ways to peer into the mortal realm left because people practicing diabolism are so few, even less if we discount people like you and me who are monitored by the Empire. The entire country is warded by multiple deities who personally try to keep the Hells out. They used to be able to open Hellgates just by a powerful devil boring a hole by themselves. Now they require a complicated ritual. They used to be able to see into this plane at will. Now their only eyes are those few mortals dealing with them. And this project began as a secret, especially from anyone already practicing diabolism."

"Only someone did inform them," I said. "Or, set this entire thing up with the purpose of creating these conditions themselves."

"Yes, although it depends on who the people who made this were," Alberta said. "I don't suppose you can give me some names, perhaps?"

Hrrm. She clearly hadn't been told about Derrick's involvement, understandable given the sheer venom she had for the Zavielan priestess. Gallaspie as well, apparently, but the question was, did I think either of them was involved?

Maybe. Possibly. Gallaspie less so, but what if zealotry was just a good way to hide corruption? Derrick was even more of an unknown, and then we had the final unknown. The third person, the one who'd suggested the program to begin with, was clearly the one suspicion should fall on the most. If we knew who they were.

"Well," I said. "If I said one of them I couldn't mention because you would immediately be prejudiced against them, you would immediately grasp who they were."

"Ah," Alberta said, her smile souring. "I should have guessed the moment it became clear she was involved. Well, I will withhold my judgment on her. Any others?"

"Bishop Gallaspie," I said, leaning back, cupping my tea in my hands. "I suspect him the least."

"He does have quite the reputation," Alberta muttered. "I've had the misfortune of meeting him a few times myself, and he seems quite the fanatic."

"Everyone does have their own secrets," I said. "So while the least, some suspicion lies on his head still. I do suspect the third leader of their group the most. They are supposedly the ones who spearheaded creating this program, and their name is still hidden."

"That's assuming it's not some lesser member of the group, or someone who found out separately," Alberta said.

I nodded. "There are other hints that someone inside the program is involved, but that's fair. Of the people we do know, Black Flame diabolists who have turned against Giovanni Versalicci. Supposedly. Also one dabolist operating in secret under another Infernal crime boss."

"Supposedly turned against Versalicci?" Alberta asked me, raising an eyebrow.

Hrrm. Did she know about us being half-siblings, or just that I was former Flame?

"Versalicci keeps on being involved," I said. "Outside the Black Flame diabolists, his tip-off is what led to the first ritual circle, under the other diabolist."

"The leader of the Black Flame does make an easy person to see as the mastermind behind everything," Alberta said. "So easy to slot into the role it almost feels too obvious. Which could just be what he wants to be seen."

I chuckled. "He prefers the cover of complete darkness, to be honest. He rightly knows his survival depends on being lurking in the shadows waiting to be forgotten."

"So then, inside the program then?"

I nodded. It was the most likely.

"If one suspected the deities involved in this were specifically put together for this ritual?" I asked mildly.

Alberta smiled slightly. "If one wanted to achieve the maximum effect, aim at the cornerstones of what is being targeted."

"Cornerstones of the empire or the city?" I asked myself. "Or both?"

"If it were the empire as a whole, it would be a wider net," Alberta said. "It could have been easier that way. They could spread the deaths to feed the circles around, as well as the priests. But they've been forced to circle the city, and use deities connected to it."

"A few deities don't seem to fit, in my eyes," I said. "I could see their connection to the empire as a whole, but Avernon in specific."

Alberta wasn't giving any answers, so I closed my eyes, thinking my way through any connections those deities might have. Savareth. Kersov. Zavan. The three most unlikely.

"Savareth is the Nover," I said with barely disguised disgust. "That does not seem like some key part of the city to target."

"The Nover is iconic to the city itself," Alberta said. "Also, the rivers that feed into it do give us water that sustains the city before they uh, join it in its Noverness."

Inventing new words to describe it sounded vaguely sacrilegious. Not that I wouldn't be shocked if some deity of that river came about based on its fetid features. The damn thing already fought the city's boats whenever someone tried to clean it even a little.

"Also, trade is the beating heart of the empire," Alberta continued. "As an island nation, Savareth is just slightly less important than Daltaren to Anglea's commerce."

"Kersov doesn't have a good link," I said, moving on to the next one. "The parks maybe, but those aren't actually wild. The Underground maybe, but that's not something people traditionally associate with Avernon."

Alberta frowned. "That is one I can't make a good guess on. And I imagine you'll be better placed to make inquiries than I would."

Probably. Tabling how Kersov fit in for now, that left the last unlikely deity.

"Zavan," I said. "You'd think tunnels or mines, with the Underground, but it was ultimately a disappointment. No."

"Wrong angle," Alberta said. "Think of what he represents besides the domains he claims."

I frowned. What stood out about Zavan? Formerly from another culture, the Dwarves, one recently conquered and now absorbed into the…ah, that was it.

"Integration."

A foreign deity, whose people had either been driven out or conquered. Now they were forced to integrate in submission to those who had taken over. It had repeated before. Baltaren and Daltaren were deities from the people of the Ivvish peninsula. Kersov had started as a deity of the elves. Semiv had come with the wave of refugees caused by the Nightlings in the East three hundred years ago. Savareth had once been the chief deity of the Ilte. Zavan was just the most recent example.

"Most of the others are easy," I said. "Ixillae. Avernon is the central hub of magical research for the empire. The same goes for Daltaren and commerce. Larreran and Semiv circling each other for crime and the law. Gallocks because this is the cultural hub, and Tarver for the same reason. Tildae, Zaviel, and Baltaren feel more universal and not really tied to the city itself."

"Their domains are universal enough to tie into the city even if nothing specific about the city ties into them," Alberta replied. "Although Baltaren has quite a bit of pull, it's just easy for people to not notice."

I nodded. I already had my own experience with Baltaren priests showing what they could hide in plain sight. Giant cathedrals, for one thing.

"Halspus is tied in somehow," I muttered. "Entirely possible that their involvement was unavoidable, but…how damaging would you say it would be if followers of a deity who condemns the use of Diabolism condoned it instead?"

"A powerful effect," Vesper replied. "Maldeura is nearly of equal status, but is a transplant deity, and also isn't as represented in the city itself. It's been a while since we've seen battle in Avernon, or the army deployed here."

"Black Flame," I reminded her.

"A single stone landing in a pond," she replied confidently. "Not enough of a pattern to grab. I think the array of deities they have is sufficient. Touching on plenty of the aspects of the city and the empire, while keeping to thirteen. It's an important number for rituals. And Halspus' involvement will make it even easier for this ritual to carve a pathway to the Hells."

And what a frightening picture that was. Suddenly, my concerns over not destroying those two circles seemed much reduced. The priest souls, they were what was important. And they were halfway to completion.

"With this information, I'd say Derrick's concerns over that lantern were more justified," I said pointedly.

Alberta scoffed. "The main advantage of that device is the collection of vast quantities of souls in one place while remaining portable. The circles don't require that many souls. Maybe a hundred each."

"We're still talking close to twelve hundred people," I reminded her. "Transferring a hundred at a time isn't small."

"It's not that large either," she told me. "Even assuming utmost caution, what, a week to transfer the full amount if you only did one at a time? There are easier things to make than a soul lantern to acquire that could do it a dozen souls at a time."

I decided to concede on the subject. I doubted pressing any further would actually convince her, not when I was competing with a grudge envenomed by her son's death. No need to have the poison spread to me as well. And…yes, her points were correct. The Soul Lantern was a small piece now.

"I hope the information helps you," Vesper said, setting her teacup down with a sense of finality. "I hope you did not bring the contract like I asked for last time. I am not really in the mood to teach today."

"I didn't," I admitted. "My apologies, Mrs. Vesper. My day was already busy, and has become much more so. And I think by the time this is done, I won't be getting those lessons."

"Well," she said. "If this ends up being the only information I am allowed to give you, may it prove useful, Miss Harrow."

"It will," I promised her.

It was. I knew what string to pull. Now I just needed to get to the part of today where I would reach out and yank it.

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