his hand. He snatched it away.
'I'm sorry,' he apologized, 'but… but you said 'potential'?'
No one had used the word describe him for yearsnot since his father had given up hope for him. Variance raised her eyebrows and nodded.
'What do you mean?' Keph blurted. 'What kind of potential?'
She gave him another long look, then pulled him a little farther into the nearest shadows.
'Jarull told me that your family ignores you because you're not a wizard,' she said.
Keph nodded slowly. 'My parents tested me. I have all the talent of a potato when it comes to the Art.'
Variance frowned at him. 'Your parents have denied you a tremendous gift, Keph.' She touched his forehead. Her finger was cold. 'The Artthe magic of the arcanecomes from here.' Her finger moved to his chest, lingering over his heart. 'The power of divine magic comes from here. Wizards often fail to realize that.' Her voice was slow and dark. 'If your faith is as strong as your will, Keph, you could channel Shar's power as her priest.'
Keph's heart was pounding once more. 'A priest?' he asked.
'You have the potential,' Variance said again. 'It's not an easy path. You need'
'Teach me,' said Keph sharply. His hands were trembling like they never had before. Blood was singing in his ears. His heart felt ready to leap right out of his chest. 'Variance, please. Teach me!' He clutched at the symbol of Shar around his neck. 'If there's a test… something to prove that I could do it…'
Variance stepped back. 'Faith doesn't work like that, Keph.'
'I need to know!'
His words echoed from the rough rock walls of the temple. The other cultists turned to stare at them. Variance narrowed her eyes.
'Lower your voice,' she hissed.
Keph clamped his mouth shut. She studied him.
'Perhaps I could try teaching you an orison,' she said.
Keph nodded and asked, 'That's like a cantrip, isn't it? The simplest kind of divine spell?'
'Don't use the words of arcanists to describe the power of faith.'
She spread her hands and shadows seemed to reach out to engulf them, screening them from the other cultists. 'Kneel,' she ordered.
Keph knelt. The stone floor was hard under his knees. He ignored it and focused on Variance.
Her eyes were half closed and she was breathing deeply. Just as he had mimicked Jarull's obeisance to Bolan the day before, Keph mimicked her.
'Good,' Variance said. 'Now… feel the darkness. Outside you. Within you. That is Shar.' She spoke slowly, drawing out her words into a kind of lulling song. 'Shar. The Nightsinger. The Dancer in the Dark. The Mistress of the Night, whose heart is the primal void that existed before all else and will exist again once Shar has drawn all creation into her embrace. Shar is more powerful than any of us. She could extinguish us with a word. Only by recognizing that and in accepting her perfection can we hope to draw on even a fragment of her power.' She exhaled slowly. 'Do you feel Shar's presence, Keph?'
Keph fought back the excitement that Variance's words had stirred in him. He tried to recall the feeling that had driven him to his knees when he had first entered the templethat sense of a living, primordial darkness, all- powerful, greater, and bigger than him or the puny lights that the cultists needed to…
'Yes,' he said. 'Yes, I think I can.'
'Hold your faith,' Variance told him. 'Believe in Shar.' She reached across her body and made a sign in front of her face. 'Mistress of the Night, guide me.'
Keph repeated her gesture and her words: 'Mistress of the Night, guide me.'
Nothing happened.
'Again.'
Variance made the sign and spoke the words once more. Keph repeated them. Again, nothing happened.
'Believe in the Lady of Loss,' Variance told him. 'You speak a prayer, not a command. The words must be felt as well as spoken. Again.'
Nothing.
'Again.'
Nothing.
Variance remained silent, but Keph repeated the invocation without her prompting. He closed his eyes, concentrating on combining words, gesture, and faith.
Shar grant me this, he begged his newly-embraced deity silently. My heart is true. I've proven myself, haven't I?
Dimly, he heard Variance chanting under her breath. Different words, maybe a new prayer. He tried to put it out of his mind and pour everything he had into the orison. His knees started to ache, cold seeping up into them from the stone. He did his best to ignore the pain. He dredged up every memory of indignity suffered at the hands of his parents, his sister and brother, laying them before the living darkness.
Take all this, he thought, take it and give me your power!
His words became mechanical, his memories a raw sore on his soul, but still the darkness was impassive. Everything he sent into it simply vanished, swallowed.
Until the darkness stirred.
Within him, outside of himsomething shifted. Keph's eyes snapped open.
'Mistress of the Night, guide me!' he called.
A force swept through him, cold, deep, and terrible. It was like the blessing that Bolan had invoked over him, but different because it welled up from within his very soul and sucked his breath away. Keph choked and fell forward, skinning the palms of his hands. Deep, ragged gasps filled his lungs once more. Just breathing caused him pain, but he didn't care.
Clarity filled his mind, a perfect void from which he saw everything around him. Shar was with him. The Lady of Loss was ready to guide his hands, to inspire him with certainty like night itself.
The clarity only lasted a moment, but Keph knew it would linger on in his heart. He looked up at Variance.
'I did it,' he gasped. 'I called on Shar.' He sucked in another breath and elation burst inside of him. 'I cast a spell!' Variance reached down a hand to help him up, but he just grabbed it and kissed her fingers. 'Thank you!'
'Don't thank me,' said Variance. 'Thank the Dark Goddess.'
The priestess was smiling, however. She twisted her hand, reversing the grip, and pulled Keph to his feet with surprising strength.
The shadows she had summoned dispersed. The cultists surrounded them. They were staring in aweat him, Keph realized. Shar's newest devotee had suddenly surpassed them all.
Bolan was staring as well, though not in awe. His eyes were dark, cold pits in his flawless face. Keph flinched back from his anger, but Variance met the priest's gaze boldly.
'Have respect, Bolan,' she said. 'You may be looking at your successor.'
Bolan's face didn't move, but he managed to turn his response into a sneer. 'A tiny magic, Keph. Do you think it will be enough to save you when a Selunite werewolf goes for your throat?'
There was more than disdain in his voice, though. Maybe it was some lingering touch of clarity, but Keph was certain that he heard a trace of fear as well.
He laughed.
A shadow flickered over Bolan's face and he whirled away. Variance's hand tightened on Keph's.
'Don't mock him,' she said. 'He's right. An orison is nothing.'
'No,' said Keph, 'it's everything.' He bowed deeply to her. 'Ask me anything, Variance, and I would do it. That's the debt I owe you.'
His heart and soul were alive, burning with a fierce, dark joy. Maybe it had been only an orison, but it meant that Strasus was wrong. He had magic. ft
