Chương 128: 44. We Needn't Be Enemies

While we finish our meal, Sszlaw slithers inside—apparently their food cart, while mobile, is usually just set up right outside their house—and brings out a small leather bundle. Unrolling the bundle reveals a set of clean metal tools, including two sizes of clippers, a file with rough and fine sides, and even a few blunt hooks for cleaning.

"It kind of looks like a lockpicking kit," Maggie observes.

"Sized for small hands," the vendor says with a sad smile.

"I hope it serves you well."

"Are you sure I can't convince you to let me pay for this?" I ask.

"I can't imagine metalwork this detailed is cheap."

"I believe it is the work of the Goddess that saw our paths along the Great Road converge here," Sszlaw replies, waving me off.

"I would not sully the moment with coin. But you seem to keep rich company—perhaps you can tell them where to find the best ssamsha in Stebaari."

"I definitely will!" I promise.

"I bet Rara would love this place."

"Oh Goddess, she would," Talla sighs.

"As if she needs to gain any more weight." I elbow her in the side.

"Don't be mean! She looks fine." She's not even fat, not that it would be anybody's business but hers. Most Fa'aun are just incredibly lean.

"Gah, you're right, sorry. Bad habit—I've always been under a lot of pressure to stay in shape." Sszlaw glances between us with what I think is a bemused expression? I've barely gotten on top of Fa'aun expressions, and serpentfolk are even harder to read.

"Yes... I believe a good word with your friends would be more than worthy thanks." We bid our farewells and immediately head straight back to the temple district.

"You should be a bit more careful," Talla says quietly once we're out of earshot.

"I don't mind, personally, but if you're that loose with me around other nobles they might get offended on my behalf."

"Seriously?" I groan.

"Many of my cousins take decorum very seriously," she sighs.

"They probably won't be as harsh as Mira, but... well, just bear it in mind."

"Okay," I sigh.

"Where to next?"

"The cathedral," Talla replies without hesitation.

"I want to get this sorted out as quickly as possible."

"Really? Not the... militia or whatever?"

"This isn't a military matter," she says.

"They have the authority to enforce a quarantine, but they'll do it with force. They also probably won't do it without either an imperial decree or the consensus of at least three noble houses."

"And... the church?"

"Doesn't have the authority, but they do have the influence," she explains.

"It's a softer hand. If priestesses are telling people not to go out while sick, even if it's mild, then people will listen."

"Do you think they'll listen to you?" I ask.

"We'll see." * The Grand Cathedral of the Church of the Great Wheel is a heck of a mouthful that sounds a lot better in Fa'aun. It's also a huge building that definitely lives up to its grandiose name. It's practically an entire block of the city unto itself, and the towers can be seen from all over the city. It's got so many different wings and adjuncts that it's basically several different buildings that have all been smushed together.

Instead of the sandstone that most buildings in the city are made from, it's a combination of wood and grey brick, with a few inconsistencies in the construction that make me think it's gone through a lot of additions and renovations over its apparently very long history.

"Holy frick, Evie, you used to live here?" I ask in wonderment.

"Mostly within the cloister," she replies.

"It's not as though we had the run of the entire cathedral. And even if we did, the place is a labyrinth. Sometimes a sister goes wandering and gets lost."

"Most of it isn't in active use," Talla comments.

"Before the city sprung up around it, the Cathedral was a stronghold designed to last for months or years at a time against invaders." She leads us through an expansive and well-maintained courtyard, an oasis of green among the dull yellows and browns of the city and its surroundings. It reminds me of the Goa estate, but even more lush. A stone pathway cuts across green grass, flanked by bushes and even trees—some of which even look like they bear fruit, though it's hard to tell whether it's edible.

The pathway leads into a central court, with a fountain that I can only imagine must be expensive, even so close to the coastline. From the fountain, the pathway splits up into multiple directions, each leading to different sections of the cathedral—or even just other outdoor features.

"I thought your place was big," I mutter.

"I don't even have the words in Fa'aun to describe how huge this place is."

"It is grand, yes," Talla chuckles.

"Come on, the chapel is this way."

"Hold on," Violet interjects.

"Is this safe? We don't know how the church feels about us yet. I thought the plan was to lay low."

"That was before everybody and their horse knew who and what you are," Talla sighs." If you have anything to worry about from them, you don't need to worry about it here."

"That would be a lot more comforting if we weren't attacked on the street just the other day."

"Just relax," she tries to reassure us.

"It might even help to meet some of the religious leaders here. The church isn't a perfect institution, but I don't think it's quite what you're imagining."

"I am a little bit nervous," I admit.

"But if you say that we're safe, then I trust you."

"Thanks, Allie." As we approach, I half expect to find gigantic, impractically huge double-doors like the ones that we had to squeeze through to escape the convergence point. Instead, the path leads up to a fairly normal set of sturdy wooden doors flanked by a pair of familiar pure-white statues. Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

"Are those Guardians?" I ask.

"No, those ones are just statues," Talla says.

"True Guardians are only found around convergence points. The statues are made in their image."

"What about uh..." I trail off, trying to find the word. [Angel]. My memory of that encounter only gets fuzzier with time, and it's actually difficult to say the word without turning it into a [Message].

"The bigger ones? Higher tier than Guardians." Talla pauses a step before the doors then casts a worried glance down at me.

"Uh... maybe don't mention that you've seen one of those, if you can avoid it. They're extremely rare and it's not generally seen as a good thing when they show up."

"Right, lips sealed," I reply with a nod. We head into the chapel, which both is and isn't what I expected. In my head, I pictured a huge open space lined with wooden pews, a big stained-glass window, a dais, altar, maybe even a pipe organ or something. I'm right about the open space and raised dais, but there's no altar or even podium—in fact, there's almost no furniture at all. The floor is smooth stone, almost entirely free of cracks or seams, as if it was made from a single block.

There are scattered groups of Fa'aun, each one kneeling on their own cushion, which makes me think they must have brought their own. The walls are painted with colorful frescos depicting Fa'aun in various scenes that I have no context for—mostly just depictions of different forms of labor. One recurrent element I notice is auras of light shining down from above on central figures in each scene.

At the back of the chapel, one fresco dominates the entire wall, depicting a shining but indistinct figure of pure light, surrounded by a stylized depiction of the planetary rings. I realize, after double-checking, that each ray of light shining off of the glowing figure corresponds to one of the auras in the other frescos.

"I would have expected the Goddess to be depicted as a Fa'aun," Vi observes.

"She's surprisingly abstract in that painting."

"She is the Goddess of all, not of any one species," Evie says.

"It would be an act of unspeakable hubris to force our own image upon Her. Even that figure is little more than an avatar—Her true nature cannot be captured by mortal means." That's an interesting idea, and I'm not sure if any of the religions I'm familiar with have anything analogous to it. Not that I'm an expert, or anything—I was only a student, and that wasn't exactly where I focused my cultural studies. There's one person up on the dais, but she's not preaching or giving a sermon.

She's simply kneeling on her own cushion and staring up wistfully at the glowing figure on the wall in front of her. Nobody is speaking at all, actually, and the echo of Talla's hoofsteps on the stone floor make me feel self-conscious as we approach the dais, as if we're interrupting something.

"Oh no..." Talla mutters so quietly that I almost don't hear her.

"Blood and acid, not her. Let me do the talking." Huh? I nod, trusting her to know what she's talking about, but confused by the lack of elaboration. The woman on the dais glances back, then stands to meet us. She wears a familiar shade of light green and white robes, which fully cover her from the shoulders down. I'm still not entirely certain, but I think that means she's an older woman.

I can't tell a Fa'aun's age by looking yet, and even if I could, she wears a veil over her face that covers everything but her eyes—the first like it I've seen since arriving here. What I can see of her is pure white fur and a pair of thin horns that curve gently as they point skyward. Her eyes slide over me briefly before focusing on Talla and giving her a brief nod. She remains standing on the dais above us as she speaks, her voice low and slightly husky.

"Lady Talla Goa Baanu, my niece. It is good to see you. I have been hoping we would get a chance to speak."

"Matriarch Arelii Gaa Baanu. I apologize for interrupting—I didn't realize you were here." Oh! Holy fudge muffins, that's Kiera's mom. Crud on toast! No wonder Talla was so worried! She's surprisingly stoic for someone reportedly apoplectic about the death of her daughter, but looks can be deceiving.

"I've scarcely left since I heard the news," she sighs.

"Nothing can ease the burden of my grief, but perhaps if I spend enough time here, the peace of this place will find its way into my heart."

"I'm so sorry about Kiera—""Do not blame yourself, dear," Lady Gaa cuts Talla off, raising a hand.

"I am sure you did all you could under the limitations you were given. While it may not compare to my own, I know you must also be grieving the loss of your cousin."

"I am," Talla confirms.

"And the loss of my teammate as well. None of us could have predicted such a severe convergence break." The matriarch's eyes narrow slightly, but her tone remains neutral as she responds.

"Perhaps not. Yet I cannot help but feel that better leadership might have saved my daughter. You should never have been placed under the authority of some clanless male."

"That's—""Please—this is neither the time nor place for such arguments," Lady Gaa cuts her off again.

"Your loyalty, while misplaced, is commendable. I know you will do all you can to support your friend, and I do not hold that against you, but I do not wish to hear it now. I know that we are opposed in this, but we needn't be enemies."

"Fucking rude bitch," Maggie gripes.

"Time and place my ass—she started it!" I can't help but agree. She declared her own position, then not only preempted Talla's response, but also took advantage of her control of the conversation to define Talla's position for her. It feels... calculated. She's forcing Talla to follow her pace, using her grief and the solemn setting as a sword and shield to prevent any response.

"Of course, my lady," Talla replies meekly.

"I actually came here to discuss another matter. Have you heard about the minor plague that's been spreading?"

"I have. Priestesses have been deployed to manage the worst of it, but it's been rather mild. Clinics like yours should be sufficient to treat those who take ill, and what little impact it's had on the workforce should end within a few weeks." It's almost impressive how quickly the matriarch shifts into a more business-like demeanor. Like she's just neatly boxed up all the pain and grief she was just suffering, setting it aside for later.

"Apparently it's hitting the serpentfolk much harder," Talla explains.

"They don't spread it as quickly, but they also don't show symptoms until the disease starts doing serious damage. One of their nurseries was practically wiped out, and even adults end up bedridden until they can fight it off." Lady Gaa's eyes widen, and one hand slips under her veil as she gasps in what feels like genuine shock.

"Blood and acid! That's terrible! I had no idea—nobody has even reported that the serpentfolk are being affected at all."

"I suspect that not many made the connection, since it presents so differently. Plus they're afraid that if word gets out about it, people will think that the epidemic is being caused by them."

"Can we be certain that it isn't?" the matriarch asks.

"Very," Talla answers.

"Disease transfer between Fa'aun and serpentfolk is almost always one-way. Either we all get sick, and they catch it from us, or only one population gets sick." Lady Gaa gives her a long, pensive look, then nods slowly.

"I'll defer to your expertise, then. I'll have quarantine zones set up such that none of them explicitly include the serpent quarter, but nevertheless isolate that section of the city. A few savvy observers might make the connection, but not enough to spread any serious rumors."

"Thank you, my lady," Talla says with a bow.

"You know you may call me 'Aunt Arelii,' Talla," she sighs.

"I've been married to your uncle since before you were born."

"Perhaps in a more private setting, my lady," Talla replies, stubbornly sticking to formality. To my mortified surprise, the matriarch turns her attention to me.

"Am I really so intimidating, Miss Maev? Even my own niece is afraid of me."

"Uh..." I flounder, looking for a response. Something to say. Anything other than just gaping like a fish.

"Y-you're nicer than I expected." She laughs. A genuinely mirthful giggle that she has to force herself to rein in, lest she disturb the other worshippers.

"Talla, what have you been telling this poor girl about me?" she asks facetiously.

"I am quite interested in meeting you, but perhaps this is not the best setting for it. I'll have a more formal invitation sent to my sister-in-law's estate so that we can have a proper conversation some time. Until then, it was lovely to finally put a face to the name on everyone's lips." I bow politely, putting everything I've got into it no matter how much it strains my neck.

"Nice to meet you too, my lady."

"So polite!" she croons.

"I look forward to meeting you properly, but now I must get back to my prayers." She turns away, tacitly dismissing us as she returns to kneel on her cushion while Talla takes me by the shoulders and all but marches me out of the church without another word. So ends my unexpected first meeting with the most powerful noblewoman in the city.