Radeon knew they could not delay. A quarter of the incense had already burned away, ash building in the catches like time piling up.

"Chant with me," he demanded.

He did not wait for her fear to argue. He sent the cadence into her first through noiseless qi, the rhythm.

He set her voice in advance so they would synchronize. Two throats. One line. No gaps for the dark to slip through.

"O Lord, God of the living and the dead, look upon this offering we set forth in reverence."

"See the sincerity of our hearts. We do not come with excess, nor with contempt, but with what we can give without bitterness."

"Have mercy on the departed soul from ages past, and let not our poverty become an insult, nor our haste become a sin."

"Let our words be clean before You. If we would lie, restrain our tongues. If we would deceive, open our eyes to our own guilt."

For we do not speak to flatter or to bargain, but to confess what we are. The same sinners pleading for mercy."

The chant continued. Dust sifted down from the cavern roof, shaken loose by distant impacts, and still they kept their voices steady.

Fay's throat burned. Radeon's tone never wavered. Smoke thinned. Ash fattened in the catches. Time bled away in pale curls.

The last incense went out. Silence snapped tight for half a breath.

Then Radeon heard stone doors burst somewhere far off, deeper where the darkness lay.

Shouts followed, men's voices ricocheting through tunnels. Something had woken to the noise, unwelcoming and hostile, and the living had just blundered into it.

Radeon looked at the metal box. He made his decision without hesitation. He tore a piece of his own soul free.

Pain lanced clean through him. Not the pain of flesh, the pain of losing a part of what made him whole.

He pressed that torn shard into the box. Shrieking erupted from inside it.

Another soul had been waiting there, intent coiled like a snake, ready to claim whatever fortune this shrine offered.

Radeon's fragment devoured it. He felt the foreign consciousness buckle, then dissolve, reduced to nutrients for his own will.

A connection snapped into place. One consciousness, two bodies. The box opened. A hand reached out.

Another Radeon pulled himself free, skin snow white, veins visible beneath it as if the flesh was too thin to hide anything.

His eyes were hollow at first, empty sockets filled with pale fog, then Radeon's own awareness poured into them and made them live.

Backup. A second rise, prepared in advance. Might be prepared by White Impertinence. Might even be prepared for Yama.

Radeon did not care what divinity, ghost lord, or demon made such backup. The body was his now.

Fay stared at the two of him, at what she should not be seeing, and made a small strangled sound.

Radeon tapped her forehead, hard enough to sting.

"Fay, head out of the gutter," he said, shaking his head. "We're moving."

The pale double stepped into him and sank away, slipping under skin as if it belonged there.

The ghost body could ride within him anytime, solidifying when needed, passing through objects if it had to.

Radeon felt the extra presence settle, hungry, obedient only because it was him.

He pushed the door open. Outside, Fay's eldritch-blessed cloak looked nearly finished, the last spirit almost spent.

Only a few minutes more before the Blood and Dream eldritch claimed its blessing.

For now it was enough. It would hide them long enough to move.

Radeon pulled Fay tight to his side and dove out of the cave. Their visages vanished.

Campion was already in the distance, moving as ordered. Radeon spread the cover over both of them.

To anyone watching, there was only a sudden gust, a rush of displaced air, and the assumption it came from stray qi from the fighting.

They slipped past. Then Radeon felt it. A thin grey thread descending again. Divination.

Someone reaching for his position, and now for Fay too. He did not fight it the old way.

He let the newly acquired ghost body slide into Fay for a blink, a cold possession that made her presence wrong.

The thread met it and lost its grip. Blocked. Radeon knew most divination could only read the living, and this was one of those.

He kept moving, eyes forward, jaw set. He wanted the diviner to see nothing. Not yet.

Radeon looked up. The sun was just about to set. There was still an hour before it slipped behind the ridgeline, but he felt the window narrowing with every breath.

They had to move fast. If they missed this chance, Radeon would have to swallow the bitter answer. The place was not meant for him.

When he reached the camp, the people were already gathered. Bundles tied. Radeon raised his voice again.

"Everyone holds joss money. Kids, the old, even the crippled. No exceptions. When the sun drops, have your torches ready."

Hands rose clutching the folded paper like it was a winning ticket.

Some even went so far as to seal it inside leather pouches, as if fortune could leak out if they loosened their grip.

They moved. By the time they reached the peak, other groups were already there, still waiting for the cultivators who had entered earlier.

Those watchers turned their eyes on the new caravan and their mouths curled.

Sneers. Sarcasm. Easy cruelty thrown like stones.

"Another clutch of fools."

"Three days, I say, before half of them vanish."

"Hey, want to bet? I'll bet you four days."

Radeon heard everything. So did Fay. So did the three nominal disciples. So did the miners.

The words sank in, stirring fear in people already tired. They had invested too much to turn back cleanly.

Some had given decades of blood, sweat, and tears, pressed into minted coins. Still, the chatter spread doubt.

Radeon lifted his gaze over them.

"Last chance," he said. "If you don't want in, walk away. I won't stop you."

Murmurs rose. Then pleading. Then the weak willed began to sway, pushed by the crowd's laughter, pulled by their own terror.

One left. Ten. Twenty. Fifty. Then a hundred. They split from the group and drifted toward the waiting crowd, hiding their shame behind folded arms and hard faces.

Their hearts turned sharp as they went. Wishing Radeon would fail. Wishing the others would fail. Because if fortune did come, they wanted to believe they had been cheated, not cowardly.

Radeon watched them go and felt nothing tender. He knew these people. Married to the mine. Not close knit enough to starve together. Not loyal enough to gamble together.

The nine families stayed. Radeon saw Shears keeping his posture steady, whispering to his granddaughter like he could talk courage into her bone.

Radeon stepped down beside Campion and patted his shoulder once, the gesture plain and heavy.

"You put your trust in me," he said. "All I can do is deliver."

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