The Cathedral was one of the biggest buildings not only in Brakith, but in all of Prand. It was bright white, for it was constructed entirely of the bones of my enemies. Everything in the cathedral was made of bone, and the biggest pillars and support beams, as well as the magnificent central altar, were made of the massive bones of the Demogorgons we’d killed. Everything leather in the cathedral was made of the Demogorgons’ red demon hide. Fang was sitting outside the entrance to the cathedral; it was one of his favorite places in Brakith. Whenever I wasn’t riding him to this place or that one, he enjoyed sitting here and relaxing. He liked chewing on the bones of which the cathedral was constructed, which the architects complained about all the time. I let him keep doing it, though, for he was my loyal steed.
“It’s amazing,” Yumo-Rezu murmured. “And Isu is the High Priestess, is she not?”
“She is. After the Battle of the Blood Pyramid, I offered her the chance to become a deity again, but she didn’t want it; her days as a goddess were done, she told me, and she didn’t want them back. No, she’s very happy as High Priestess of the Temple of Necrosis. She especially enjoys the executions.”
“Executions?”
“Convicted criminals from all over Prand are sent here,” I explained. “The worst of them: murderers, rapists, those sorts. Isu dispatches them on the altar with Grave Oath, so that I get their souls. Then their bodies are sent to Layna, so that the Arachne can continue their tradition of, well, eating human beings, without killing anyone innocent.”
“I see. And how does the Webmaven fare?”
“She comes and visits quite often,” I said. “She and the Arachne are building a spiderweb thread that’s going to reach all the way from Aith to here, so that she can communicate with me instantly. She’s been teaching me how to read the vibrations on spiderwebs. It’s interesting stuff. I reckon if we constructed those webs all across the continent, and taught people how to use them, we could have a pretty advanced system of communication…”
“It’s an interesting idea indeed.”
We walked around the Cathedral for a while before we headed for the exit. On the way out, however, a scrawny, round-shouldered man with his head buried in a book veered around one of the corners and crashed into Yumo-Rezu. She remained standing, barely having taken much of a knock with her sharp enjarta reflexes and superb balance, but he fell flat on his back, sprawling on the gleaming black marble floor.
“One of your priests?” Yumo-Rezu said sourly, staring with distaste at the man, who was dressed in the gray robes of a priest of the Temple of Necrosis.
“Whoa, uh, sorry!” he said, rubbing his head and staring up at Yumo-Rezu with a look of awe on his face. He beamed a goofy, gap-toothed grin at her. “Hey, you totally look like the Wind Goddess!”
“That’s because she’s my sister, you ignorant buffoon!” Yumo-Rezu snapped.
I helped him to his feet. “Cranton, this is Yumo-Rezu, the Dragon Goddess,” I said. “Yumo-Rezu, this is Cranton, the First Priest of the Church of Necrosis … and who’s supposed to be fifty miles away from here right now, on his way to consecrate the newest Temple of Necrosis in the town of Krebu. Cranton, what are you still doing in Brakith?”
“Dragon Goddess, whoa, that’s incredible.” Cranton grinned before hastily and awkwardly bowing before her. Then he turned to me with a guilty look on his face. “Vance, man, I’m real sorry that I’m late, but, uh, Grast has one hell of a hangover from all the Yorish brandy he had last night, and he’s only getting his wagon ready now. I told him last night in the tavern, man, I said, ‘Grast, man, stop drinking now, Vance is gonna be pissed if you don’t drive that wagon outta here on time tomorrow morning.’ But you know Grast. You know what he’s like with the grog, man. He carried on anyway even though he promised he’d be okay to drive in the morning. I told him, and he just—”
“All right, all right,” I said to him. “I’ll have another word with Grast about his drinking, especially on nights before he’s supposed to be taking my priests across Prand. You just … go get ready to leave.”
“All right, man, I’m on it!” He bowed to us again, a huge grin pasted across his face, before he scurried off.
“That foolish little weasel was the first priest you chose for the Temple of Necrosis?” Yumo-Rezu asked, one eyebrow raised with disbelief.
“He’s a scatterbrain, and was a herb fiend for a while, but his heart is in the right place. Besides, he’s always served me faithfully. It’s a long story; I’ll tell it to you sometime.”
After we left the cathedral, I showed the Dragon Goddess around the rest of Brakith.
“Is that a Charm temple I see over there?” Yumo-Rezu pointed at an elegant pink temple.
“It is, yes. Anna-Lucielle built it soon after the Battle of the Blood Pyramid. There used to be a really sketchy tavern there, but it was destroyed by trebuchet and catapult fire in the Siege of Brakith. Anna-Lucielle built her temple from the ruins. Beautiful women from all over the world come to get the blessings of the Charm Goddess. It’s quite a sight to watch them all sashaying around this area, but I do miss the pints of ale they used to serve at that place. Strongest ale in all of Brakith, it used to be. Still, I’m not going to complain about the fact that it’s now a point of pilgrimage for the most beautiful women in the world, am I?”
We both laughed.
“Now, for the most important question,” Yumo-Rezu said, with a serious expression coming over her face.
“I’m pretty sure I know what you’re gonna ask,” I said.
“Where’s the dragon?”
“She’s established a lair in the mountains,” I
