Although Jenkins knew the nas of most pseudo-gods, he didn't know the nas of all their cults, let alone who would show up today.
Though everyone's entrances were bizarre and varied, they were all restrained enough to avoid alerting the nearby residents. The perfectly tid rain helped muffle most of the sound and light effects; otherwise, tomorrow's papers would have had to rack their brains to explain the strange occurrences in the city center.
The ones who left the deepest impression on Jenkins were the followers of the pseudo-god known as the "Thread Manipulator," or the "Spider Mother." Although spiders carried negative connotations in most cultures, the followers of this particular deity were undeniably benevolent.
Their cult was called the "Eastern Textile Workers' Guild," a group primarily active in the eastern part of the continent, with mbers consisting of female textile workers and a few artists.
They didn't make a grand entrance by riding giant spiders, as one might expect. Instead, they descended suddenly from the sky. Jenkins's eyes could perceive the incredibly fine threads, shimring with a faint spiritual energy, that dangled from high above. He realized they must have sent the threads skyward long in advance and practiced extensively elsewhere before daring to perform such a risky maneuver.
Their arrival wasn't flashy, but knowing the effort behind it left a profound impression on him.
Groups like the Music Cult and the Eastern Textile Workers' Guild were either wealthy or influential, so they didn't mind the expense of a dramatic entrance. But even those who attended as the sole representatives of their small cults did their best not to appear shabby.
It seed everyone had anticipated that no one would arrive in an ordinary fashion, so a sense of rivalry had developed among them.
Take, for example, the followers of the pseudo-god "Sky Whale." Though the na suggested a cetacean, the deity actually presided over clouds and rain. For various reasons—naly, an overlap in domain with several of the Righteous Gods—the cult's growth had been stunted. Only three representatives ca this ti. As they arrived, raindrops converged into a stream that flowed through the air toward the church entrance, where the trio then materialized.
This was the ability to transform from an elental form into a physical one—an incredible feat. A single glance at their features marked them as Enchanters from Cheslan, and all three were level-seven Enchanters at that, which was even more astounding.
"What would they have done if it hadn't been raining?"
Jenkins quietly asked Papa Oliver while the trio exchanged pleasantries with the bishop.
"See that rusty pipe over there? I'd bet they would have started with that."
Hearing Papa Oliver's reply, Jenkins pictured the pipe suddenly bursting and spewing water everywhere. He was grateful the rain had saved the innocent plumbing.
Although he wanted to see if the girl with the fish-shaped hair clip would appear, Jenkins had no desire to stand at the door as part of the welcoming party—it was far too dull. So, the Church assigned him to et with the representatives of the cults who had already arrived.
This turned out to be an even more tedious job, though the eting with the Music Cult had its monts. Hathaway, trying to conceal her identity, had put on a disguise, but Jenkins recognized her in an instant.
She avoided him, refusing to speak, and left all the work to Miss Bernreuter and Miss Stevel. During a pause in the conversation, Jenkins winked at her. Hathaway blushed and turned her head away—a rare sight indeed.
The negotiations were scheduled to start at ten, but by ten o'clock sharp, less than sixty percent of the expected attendees who had received advance notice had arrived. Even so representatives from the Orthodox Churches themselves were missing. As a result, the talks were postponed until the afternoon, with the Church providing lunch in the anti.
Since most people had anticipated this sort of delay, no one objected.
The kings and representatives of the three great kingdoms had not yet reached the church either; they were waiting at the nearby city hall. The civil officials, however, had arrived early. They were busy with the church scribes, arranging the venue, organizing docunts, preparing stationery, and handling other miscellaneous tasks.
There was no ti limit set for these negotiations, and this would be the only session. If they couldn't reach a final agreent, the talks would continue for three days straight if necessary, so thorough preparations were essential.
Around eleven in the morning, as lunch was being prepared, the Believers of Lies had still not made an appearance. The Church was starting to worry. A sweep of the city had turned up no Enchanters with the distinguishing traits of a Lie Believer in any trouble.
The Church feared the liars were actually lying to them. To dispel their doubts, Jenkins made an excuse to talk to Fini, seized the opportunity to scale the wall and leave the church grounds, then donned his black robe. With his white cat in tow, he hurried along the street under an umbrella, splashing through the grimy puddles.
Compared to the carefully orchestrated arrivals of the other pseudo-god cultists, his appearance was a far cry from impressive.
"It's ."
Seeing the commotion his unexpected arrival caused at the church entrance from a distance, Jenkins waved and called out:
"No need for a reception. I'm not here for a formal visit, just to give you a heads-up."
"Mr. Candle, where on earth are your people? It's already three minutes past eleven! We agreed to start at ten."
The speaker moved to usher Mr. Candle inside, but Jenkins declined.
"But you didn't start at ten, did you?"
He gestured vaguely in a direction behind him.
"We arrived quite early. We've just been chatting at a tavern over there, waiting for most of the others to show up before we make our entrance. We're sort of the main attraction at these negotiations, wouldn't you say? It only makes sense for us to be the last to arrive."
"What about Miss Fabry and the others? Why did you co alone?"
Having heard that a Believer of Lies had appeared, Miss Bevanna had rushed over. The morning's stress had already left her on edge. Seeing Mr. Candle's nonchalant expression as he spoke, and thinking of how busy the Church had been all day, she felt an overwhelming urge to drag these idlers from their tavern and put them to work setting up the venue.
"Oh, Fabry and the others said the food at the Sage's Church isn't to their taste. So, since all the Believers of Lies are gathered, they decided to find a restaurant and have a proper al together. I knew you'd be worried, so I ca to let you know."
He made a show of rolling up his sleeve to look at his wrist, as if checking the ti. On his shoulder, the white cat, Vanilla, also lowered her head to peer at his wrist.
Miss Bevanna, standing close by, could see perfectly well that the man wasn't wearing a watch at all. Nevertheless, he nodded as if he'd confird the ti and rolled his sleeve back down.
"Ah, so it's that late already. Alright then, we'll be back at two in the afternoon. Hopefully, things can start right away then. One more thing, Miss Fabry would like for us to be seated near Mr. Williams..."
Reviews
All reviews (0)