be so corrupted. There were many—lesser priests; the rank-and file soldiers; the laborers who maintained the inner city— who served out of faith or for money or, mostly, from fear and ignorance. It was they whom Donnchadh went after, searching for just the right person. After six years of questing, she found her man.
His name was Jobb. He was a level-four supplicant, meaning he was one of the next to be taken into the temple, put against a guardian, and made a high priest. As such he initially seemed to be a waste of time, as he would shortly be brainwashed by the Airlia. But Jobb had a daughter whom he worshipped as much as he gave allegiance to the Airlia Gods. Supplicants were not supposed to have families, but Jobb had had an illicit lover years previously. Knowing her fate for committing this sin, the woman had run away after giving birth, taking passage on one of the black market ships—how Donnchadh had first learned of this—but Jobb had kept the baby, hiring nannies to care for the girl.
Only four days before he was to be brought into the ranks of the high priests, his daughter became ill. He tried to bring her to the palace to be placed in the high priest’s infirmary, claiming she was his brother’s daughter. But rules were rules and his daughter was denied treatment. The infirmary was only for the priests. She died three days later, on the eve of Jobb’s induction.
All this Donnchadh heard from a trader who plied the inland seas in a small, skin-covered ship, which he could carry over the rings of land between. It was just before dawn and Donnchadh was in a traders’ tavern. The man had just returned from a journey to the palace island, where he had been directed to Jobb, who was desperately searching for any possible cure for his daughter’s sickness, even something from the outer lands, where, he had heard, people used roots and other strange concoctions for medicine.
The trader had been unable to help Jobb. He told Donnchadh that the girl had died in her father’s arms just before he headed back.
Donnchadh wasted no time. With Gwalcmai at her side, she made her way into Atlantis, toward the inner island that held the great city and tower. They arrived just before noon, when the elevation ceremony for high priests was to occur. Thousands of people crowded the open plaza inside the city’s wall. Wearing dark, travel-stained cloaks, Donnchadh and Gwalcmai stood in the shadow of the wall, looking up at a balcony on the tower on which stood a pair of Airlia, regally garbed as befitted their status as Gods, and flanked by high priests.
At the base of the tower were two dozen red-robed level-four supplicants. One of the high priests began to call names, and one by one the supplicants entered a door at the base of the tower.
When Jobb’s name was called there was no response. That was the sign that Donnchadh was looking for. With her partner she took back streets to the place where the trader said Jobb’s daughter had lived. They found him inside, the cold body of his daughter still in his arms. His skin was pale, his eyes red from countless tears.
“You do not have much time,” Donnchadh said as they stepped through the doorway.
Jobb did not reply or even look up.
“They will come for you,” she continued. She went to him and knelt at his side. He finally reacted when she placed a hand on his shoulder, slowly turning his head to look at her, gazing at her with uncomprehending eyes.
“You must tell them that this is indeed your brother’s daughter. And that you were too grief-stricken to make the induction ceremony. And that you are now ready to serve.”
Jobb tried to speak, but his voice cracked. Gwalcmai gave him a flask of water and Jobb drank for several seconds before giving it back. “I will never serve them. They did not help me in my time of need. What kind of Gods are they? They say they are here to help us, but when I asked, there was no help.”
Donnchadh glanced up at
His name was Jobb. He was a level-four supplicant, meaning he was one of the next to be taken into the temple, put against a guardian, and made a high priest. As such he initially seemed to be a waste of time, as he would shortly be brainwashed by the Airlia. But Jobb had a daughter whom he worshipped as much as he gave allegiance to the Airlia Gods. Supplicants were not supposed to have families, but Jobb had had an illicit lover years previously. Knowing her fate for committing this sin, the woman had run away after giving birth, taking passage on one of the black market ships—how Donnchadh had first learned of this—but Jobb had kept the baby, hiring nannies to care for the girl.
Only four days before he was to be brought into the ranks of the high priests, his daughter became ill. He tried to bring her to the palace to be placed in the high priest’s infirmary, claiming she was his brother’s daughter. But rules were rules and his daughter was denied treatment. The infirmary was only for the priests. She died three days later, on the eve of Jobb’s induction.
All this Donnchadh heard from a trader who plied the inland seas in a small, skin-covered ship, which he could carry over the rings of land between. It was just before dawn and Donnchadh was in a traders’ tavern. The man had just returned from a journey to the palace island, where he had been directed to Jobb, who was desperately searching for any possible cure for his daughter’s sickness, even something from the outer lands, where, he had heard, people used roots and other strange concoctions for medicine.
The trader had been unable to help Jobb. He told Donnchadh that the girl had died in her father’s arms just before he headed back.
Donnchadh wasted no time. With Gwalcmai at her side, she made her way into Atlantis, toward the inner island that held the great city and tower. They arrived just before noon, when the elevation ceremony for high priests was to occur. Thousands of people crowded the open plaza inside the city’s wall. Wearing dark, travel-stained cloaks, Donnchadh and Gwalcmai stood in the shadow of the wall, looking up at a balcony on the tower on which stood a pair of Airlia, regally garbed as befitted their status as Gods, and flanked by high priests.
At the base of the tower were two dozen red-robed level-four supplicants. One of the high priests began to call names, and one by one the supplicants entered a door at the base of the tower.
When Jobb’s name was called there was no response. That was the sign that Donnchadh was looking for. With her partner she took back streets to the place where the trader said Jobb’s daughter had lived. They found him inside, the cold body of his daughter still in his arms. His skin was pale, his eyes red from countless tears.
“You do not have much time,” Donnchadh said as they stepped through the doorway.
Jobb did not reply or even look up.
“They will come for you,” she continued. She went to him and knelt at his side. He finally reacted when she placed a hand on his shoulder, slowly turning his head to look at her, gazing at her with uncomprehending eyes.
“You must tell them that this is indeed your brother’s daughter. And that you were too grief-stricken to make the induction ceremony. And that you are now ready to serve.”
Jobb tried to speak, but his voice cracked. Gwalcmai gave him a flask of water and Jobb drank for several seconds before giving it back. “I will never serve them. They did not help me in my time of need. What kind of Gods are they? They say they are here to help us, but when I asked, there was no help.”
Donnchadh glanced up at
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