and vital as a vallenwood. The priests joined in. The Great Chamber rang with a chorus at least two centuries old:

"Centuris shirak nex des.

Centuris shirak nex des.

Centuris shirak nex des.

We seek the truth of the New Gods."

"I invoke you, Omalthea," Hederick shouted over the voices. "I invoke you, Sauvay, once her consort!"

"Centuris shirak nex des."

"I call to your daughter, Ferae, issue of Omalthea and Sauvay!"

The converts had joined in. Some of the newcomers couldn't keep from sobbing, Hederick noted through slit-ted eyelids.

"Centuris shirak nex des."

"I cry out to you, Cadithal, consort of Ferae! Share your gifts. Offer us wealth!"

"Centuris shirak nex des."

"Come to us, Zeshun, queen of the night!"

"We seek the truth of the New Gods."

"Be with us now, New Gods, true gods! Speak to the faithful! I, Hederick, High Theocrat of Solace, await your healing wisdom!"

The crowd sang the hymn again and again. Finally the room was still, its occupants waiting in an expectant, breathless hush. Hederick pressed his hand to his chest until the diamond figure cut into his flesh. Be with me now, Sauvay, he prayed.

Hederick took his time. He stared pointedly at one con shy;vert after another, holding each one's gaze until he felt the person grow frightened, then he frowned and moving on to the next victim. When the tension was at the breaking point, the New Gods would speak through him. The reve shy;lations would commence. This had never failed.

Hederick beheld a young woman. She flushed deeply but dared not look away. He felt himself draw power from

her. Then suddenly Omalthea, not Sauvay, was upon him, the first of the divine visitors tonight, filling him with her strength. Hederick closed his eyes. He sensed, without seeing, the woman collapse against the young man at her side as the High Theocrat's eyelids fluttered shut.

"Omalthea, arbiter of all virtue, is with us." To begin with the Motherlord of the Pantheons-what promise that held for the night! Hederick rocked back on his heels, smiling up at the ceiling. An auspicious beginning. Then he frowned again. "Omalthea is displeased. For some of you talk of virtue-but talk more than you care to practice."

Hederick suddenly looked again at the young woman. She was pretty, with a face and form that surely attracted the attentions of many men. Now her face was colorless, lips parted. Seeing Hederick's gaze, her husband looked at her with horror.

"Some of you sin greatly … and regularly … and hap shy;pily," Hederick intoned. "To sin against virtue is to blas shy;pheme Omalthea herself. Truly the Motherlord is angered."

Hederick touched his chin: the signal. Dahos, out of sight, touched a flame to a hair-thin line of string. The flame coursed on its track beneath the aisle stairs, turned at the highest step, and shot toward the statue of Oma shy;lthea that graced the top of the amphitheater. "Omalthea, be with us!"

At that instant, an explosion rocked the room. Red smoke billowed from the base of Omalthea's statue. Smelling of burned metal, the cloud spread over the room.

The young woman gave a cry and fainted. Her husband let her slip unchecked to the marble floor.

Smoke and noise did wonders for increasing people's faith, Hederick thought. It was all perfectly acceptable in the service of the New Gods. The people demanded the spectacular.

The explosion over, he let his gaze rove toward a man in the first row whose face wore a decidedly self-satisfied expression. The man, probably a merchant, wore silk hose, billowing silk shirt, and a fine leather doublet tooled with griffins; the splendor of his outfit matched the arro shy;gance of his expression. Hederick pressed the dragon to his breast and waited for another spirit to inspire him- Cadithal's, this time.

"Cadithal, God of Wealth, is with us. He is pleased at our generosity this evening." Hederick's voice was practi shy;cally a whisper, yet the room was so still that every word was audible, even to the last row, he knew. The smug-looking man was smiling and nodding, chin outthrust. "And yet…" Hederick drew out the words as he stared at the sinner. The man's smile faded.

"And yet. .. Cadithal, consort of Ferae, Goddess of Growing Things, is unhappy tonight. For there are some here …" Hederick let the suggestion trail off meaning shy;fully. He stood in the gods' stead now; he was imposing and terrifying-and godlike. "There are some tonight who remain miserly, who think the New Gods can be fooled by a 'considerable' gift measured in mere steel coins, but a gift that in reality amounts to a pittance of what ought to be contributed."

The well-dressed man whom Hederick had targeted slouched as if trying to make himself smaller. "What a cruel, cruel joke to play upon the gods-and upon one's own soul," Hederick said softly, "and upon the souls of one's family."

Suddenly the man was back before the pair of priests at the side table, speaking urgently and emptying his pockets. Hederick looked around, even more pleased than before. Which god would guide him next? Which onlooker would he draw power from? Then he spied her. Ancilla's Presence occupied an aisle seat in the top row.

No one but Hederick appeared aware of her. The High Theocrat lost confidence momentarily, and the Diamond Dragon slipped from his grasp. He heard the artifact clang to the floor.

The lizard-woman in the Great Chamber sat up imme shy;diately, eyes wide. In an instant, she vanished from the bench and reappeared on the pulpit next to Hederick, apparently visible only to him. She reached for the glitter shy;ing artifact.

And her clawed hand went right through it.

Ancilla tried again, with the same result. For a moment, sister and brother locked gazes. Hers brimmed with frus shy;tration, his with drunken joy.

Then the High Theocrat reached out to reclaim the Dia shy;mond Dragon. Unfortunately, the mead made his brain swim, and he inadvertently knocked the artifact down the stairs.

Hederick took a step toward the staircase. But at the moment his outstretched hand brushed against the mist of a scaly body, panic assailed him.

The Presence was chanting softly.

Despite the terror, Hederick fought to get control of himself. "Sauvay, come to me," he pleaded softly. Sauvay, once Omalthea's consort, now god of vengeance, surely would dash this lizard-woman to bits on the floor of the chamber. "Sauvay, attend me."

Hederick forced his thoughts away from Ancilla's Pres shy;ence. "Sauvay, stand with me!" he cried. He prayed des shy;perately. His mind's eye still saw the green orbs of the Presence. The red smoke had dissipated, but the metallic odor remained. The thing chanted monotonously.

Then, at last, Hederick felt the reassuring touch of the gods. Sauvay had arrived at Hederick's behest and now demanded his turn to speak. It must be Sauvay. The High Theocrat forced himself to stop thinking about Ancilla. The revelation was everything now. Ancilla could not harm him during the revelation.

"I dreamed last night," Hederick whispered. Each word fell shimmering into the amphitheater like a glass bead dropping into a lake.

But something was wrong.

Always before, Hederick had known that deep down, on some level, he controlled his words-even though the gods provided guidance from some distance. But this time he lost control. He stood atop his vaulted pulpit like a gasping carp, words erupting out of the depths of his belly. Was this, then, what a true revelation felt like? V\fere the New Gods physically directing him?

"I had a dream last night," he blurted. "I dreamed I was in my parents' house in Garlund." He'd never-never- revealed his roots. Garlund didn't even exist anymore.

"I was in the root cellar. It was damp. We lived near the river, and the cellar was always damp." Someone giggled; Hederick looked around the room, mouth agape. He could almost hear the priests wondering aloud. The High Theocrat in a root cellar? And where was this Garlund?