“Changed? Changed how?”
“They became spiders themselves. Human-spider abominations.”
“Ah, yes, the Arachne,” Elyse said. “We were always taught that Aith and the Arachne were a myth. According to legend, the Arachne cannot leave Aith. Whatever gives them their cursed life also binds them to the city. Should they leave it, they would wither and die.”
“So, when you say human-spider abominations,” I said to Friya, “just how much human is in these people? Or how much spider?”
“They look far more human than spider,” Friya answered, “and while Elyse is correct in saying that they cannot leave Aith, what is also true is that outsiders can enter the city. However, it is not very wise for humans to enter Aith…”
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not a human anymore.”
“But the rest of us are,” Elyse said. “Well, besides Rami.”
“Even gods might have trouble there,” Friya said. “Like many myths, the story of Aith being overrun by man-eating spiders has a grain of truth in it. While the Arachne are not spiders, some of them do eat people.”
“Aith is a city of human-spider creatures with a taste for human flesh?” I said.
“Perhaps we should give Aith a wide berth,” Elyse said with a gulp.
“I’m afraid there is only one way to get to the Temple of Blood,” Friya said, “and that’s through Aith. But Aith is not the extent of the dangers that lie ahead. Once you have ventured through the Arachne city, a mountain pass also must be navigated. This pass is guarded by Jotunn. Frost Giants.”
“Well, I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge, no matter how big,” I said. “But let’s return to the subject of deicide for a moment. You’re sure this is what my uncle is trying to do, Friya?”
“I’m sure. There’s no other reason for him and his followers to have gone that far north, to have journeyed all the way to one of the last intact Blood Temples. What’s more, I’m quite sure which god they’re going to sacrifice—which goddess.”
“Go on.”
“One of the Old Gods used to visit me regularly in my dreams. She was part of the reason I felt so compelled to seek you out, Vance. She needed the help of the Raiser of the Dead, for she knew that the power of the Blood God was growing. She realized that eventually, his followers would come for her. There are few more powerful sacrifices that they could make than that of a living goddess.”
“Which goddess was this?” I asked.
“Lucielle, the Charm Goddess.”
“No!” Anna gasped. “Not Lucielle, no, no! You have to stop them, Vance. You have to save her.”
Of course, having a goddess sacrificed to the Blood God was a really, really bad thing in itself, but Anna seemed to have some vested interest in preventing this, one that went beyond the simple “the world is fucked if this happens” motivation. I looked at her with one eyebrow raised.
“Did you have some sort of ulterior motive in stowing away in that supply wagon?” I asked.
Anna sighed and clasped her hands together. “I… I’ve been a devotee of the Charm Goddess for a long time, Vance. I didn’t just use her Beauty Mirror. I worshiped her too. Of course, I worship you as well, but that’s the great thing about the Old Gods: you don’t have to limit yourself to worshiping just one.” She shot a withering sidelong glance at Elyse, who sucked in a sharp breath and blushed. “And,” Anna continued, “I’ve always dreamed of being Fated. I thought that if I journeyed with you, we might meet Lucielle along the way, and she would see how devoted I was to her and make me Fated. I... I should have told you that part, I know. I just thought that you’d think it was stupid.”
“Believe me, Anna, you’re not the first woman I’ve met who’s wanted to become Fated.”
Rami-Xayon chuckled—she’d already had that wish fulfilled—but then Friya blushed and looked away.
“You too?!” I asked the Wise Woman.
“A girl can dream, can’t she?” Friya said with a sly smile.
“Wait, you’re not Fated already?” I asked.
“The powers I possess are not exactly the same as those who are Fated. They are minor in comparison, gifted to me because of my devotion rather than because a god specifically chose me.”
“Right,” I said, not sure I understood the distinction. “So, when did you last hear from Lucielle, Friya?”
“It has been many weeks since she last appeared in my dreams,” Friya said, her face falling. “This does not bode well for any of us. All I can say is I would have felt it if the sacrifice had already been made. It all depends on how long Lucielle can hold her fortress—and her powers have been waning. Whether any other gods are helping Lucielle against your uncle, or whether the others have fled—perhaps across the sea to Yeng—I cannot say.”
“Then we’d best not waste any time,” I said grimly. “My ratfuck of an uncle might be sharpening his daggers as we speak.”
“If you will allow me to,” Friya said, “I will accompany you on this quest. My foreknowledge may prove useful.”
“The more, the merrier.”
Rollar, meanwhile, had been translating for the Hothgrumians. They listened intently, with looks of concern. Hegmun finally piped up.
“Hegmun says he will place all of Hothgrum’s warriors at your disposal for this mission,” Rollar translated for me. “He is eager to help you in whatever way he can.”
I already had a small army of undead troops with me, including my new zombie barbarian cavalry on their zombie direwolves. I didn’t need more troops, especially seeing as we were going into mountainous terrain, where there wouldn’t be any room for large pitched battles. What I did need, however, was more souls, so that I could increase my own powers and gain new magic skills. But I couldn’t exactly ask his warriors to kneel while I executed them one by one and took their souls. Well, I could, but that seemed
