Chapter 39
Thirty-Nine
I’d been worried that Gerzog might have gotten suspicious if he’d seen us fly by, thinking it was someone searching for him.
That, or maybe the locals would get excited about a flying beast dropping off a wizard with a familiar description.
As it turned out, I’d been paranoid for no reason, because as I walked through the Cantor District, several other flying mounts or magical conveyances passed by overhead.
When one big grey bird flew past with several passengers on its back, I noticed it was heading for a sky island that was suspended over the rear of the district, atop which had been built the biggest and fanciest church I’d ever seen.
That building must have been as important as it looked, because it was attracting a lot of traffic from the city’s loftier districts.
Fairly Deadly wouldn’t have been noteworthy in this crowd.
And crowded it was. The extra Fireday heat brought with it a warm breeze from the market.
It was dinnertime, yet a great many people were out and about on the streets to get some fresh air away from their stuffy winter homes.
Though this district was dedicated to the study of the gods and saints, the residents were as normal as everywhere else.
Laborers, rowdies, families, and traders all came and went between a great many establishments.
There were dozens of taverns and pubs. For whatever reason, I’d expected the religious district to be holier.
I made my way toward the estate. When I paused to concentrate, I sensed the magic bullet in the distance ahead. It was faint, but getting warmer.
There seemed to be a church on every street in this neighborhood, but as I walked, reading the signs, it turned out most of those buildings were actually schools sponsored by the worshippers of various saints.
I’d assumed they were churches from the symbolic statues out front.
This really was like the Collegium, only less ostentatious.
There were still lots of magical effects at work, like moving picture illusions on some of the walls, and talking or singing advertisements, but it wasn’t nearly as flashy as I’d seen previously.
The people were also a bit friendlier and less standoffish.
I received a great many nods of greeting from total strangers.
In the Collegium, those would’ve been sneers.
In the Slumps, those nods of greeting would be followed by both parties checking their pockets to make sure the other hadn’t robbed them.
The residents here were mostly human, amongst many others.
Some I was familiar with, like dwarves and gnomes, and a few I’d seen only in passing before.
There were gnome-sized lizard men who looked like miniature Sifusos.
Then there were muscular orange people who looked like lobs—but their bodies weren’t cursed with bits of rock—those must have been hobgoblins.
There were a lot of those here. They must be very religious.
There were watchmen about on patrol, but not nearly as many in other districts.
If I were to guess why, it was that a well-behaved people tended to police themselves.
With the City Watch being the Council’s eyes, and so few of them here, someone like Gerzog would be able to avoid them easily.
There were a surprising number of orcs too, so he wouldn’t stand out that much.
I guess the orcish presence made sense, as the gods had lifted up several notable saints from that race.
From what I understood, orcs also had an inordinate number of fiends appointed, to balance things out.
Gerzog definitely seemed to fall more on the destined-for-hell side of things.
I reached a tall white wall. The magic bullet was somewhere on the other side.
I followed the wall around to the front where there was an open gate with a big sign over it, declaring this was the Habitation of Phradumius.
I didn’t know who or what that was, but it was open to the public until sundown.
People were coming and going through the gate, and from the robes and holy symbols, most were various kinds of clergy.
I watched the entrance for a while; the bullet remained inside.
There really wasn’t a good place for me to sit unnoticed.
There were no beggars here, no nearby businesses I could pretend to be frequenting, and it was too cold for anyone to just be standing around.
I’d told Azarin I’d try to meet her here, but if Gerzog had men stationed in any of the nearby buildings, they’d be sure to spot me loitering.
There were two guards posted at the gate, but they weren’t watchmen.
They were from some other militant group I’d not seen before, wearing long black coats with a silver dagger patch sewn on their sleeves, and big fur hats with the same symbol pinned to the front.
Both wore a sword and a pistol on their belts.
They seemed alert, but were cordial to the people entering.
“Those are Paladins of Kielgrad,” someone said from behind me.
I turned around to see a plump, grey-haired, rosy-cheeked halfling woman, carrying a bag of groceries.
Halflings were taller than gnomes, near dwarf height, but not nearly as thick and musclebound.
The only thing hairy on her was her head and her bare feet.
I don’t know how those weren’t getting frostbite.
“I saw you staring at them. It must be their turn to man the shrines today. Don’t worry.
They’re fair lads, as they serve Saint Loyalty.
Not at all like the Paladins of Zumlane.
Those judgy bastards. They were here yesterday, all scowling and watching everybody all suspicious, like we’re just itching to do some crime. ”
“Zumlane is the Saint of…”
“Justice.”
“Got it. Are paladins like watchmen?”
“Oh, not at all, boy. The Watch answers to the Council.” Then the tiny round grandma pointed skyward. “Paladins answer only to the gods. You must be new around here.”
“That I am.” And talking to a local gave me an excuse to keep watching the entrance in case Gerzog came out, so I was happy for the company.
“I’ve only been in the Core for a few months, and this is my first time in this district.
It’s rather nice. That great big church suspended over there is pretty impressive. ”
“Oh, lad, that’s the Cathedral. That’s where all the priests gather to commune with their saints and manage the spiritual welfare of all the kingdoms. Do you know nothing?”
My people were devout, but it was a pragmatic sort of devout.
Our saint was all about hard work, and we prayed to him to keep ourselves in one piece long enough to get that work done.
Most barge cadres weren’t big on the organized part of religion, priests of Ketekunan were few and far between, and our set of encyclopedias had been missing the volume detailing the history and organization of said church.
“I know a bit, just not how things are done around here. Like, what’s this place here they’re guarding?”
“You’ve never been to a holy site before? What kind of horrible backwards kingdom are you from?”
“Fogo.” When I said that, she shrugged like she’d never heard of it. “The one with all the lava.”
“Oh, that miserable fire realm. You poor thing. Well, come on, then.” With her free hand, she grabbed mine and tugged me toward the gate. “I didn’t know you were an escaped slave.”
“Indentured servant.” Breaking free would cause a scene, so I let her drag me along.
“Same difference. Such barbarity is illegal in the Core. In this city, all are equal, and upon holy ground, all are uplifted. The militant orders guard the shrines. Our tithes from the churches maintain them. The Council even donates magic to make them spiffy. I can’t believe you’ve been in the city so long without paying your proper respects to the gods.
That’s bad luck, that is. You’re just begging to get cursed with misfortune. ”
She was probably right, but if I ran into Gerzog and ended up shooting him in the face on holy ground, that would probably make the gods even more upset with me. “Thanks, but I’ve got an appointment I need to—”
“Nonsense.” Halflings had surprisingly strong grips for such small people. “It only takes a minute to walk through the gardens and leave an offering.”
The paladins were watching us now, so I was committed. “That sounds great.”
“We got us a first-timer,” she said as we reached the gate. “There you go, hotlander. Say hello to Saint Prudence for me. She’s the best.”
“I will. Thank you, ma’am.” I nodded at the paladins as I walked through. “Good day to you, sirs.”
They nodded politely back, logically assuming I was a bumpkin here to see the sights, rather than a wizard who’d been wronged, plotting revenge upon a thieving orc.
I entered a big courtyard, and suddenly, it was no longer winter. There was green grass, flowers, big trees, and even leafy bushes sculpted to resemble animals. I was still getting used to the idea of plant life, so that really was something. I’d never seen a real garden before.
Even better, it wasn’t cold in here. Though the whole place was open to the grey sky, the temperature began to rise as soon as I stepped through the gate.
It wasn’t even a sharp change, like the shock of coming in from the cold into a room with a fireplace so hot that the change would make your ears prickle and your skin hurt, but rather, this was a gradual, gentle warming.
It was still chilly in here by Fogo’s burning standards, but it was downright pleasant compared to the altitude and wind chill I’d been suffering under all day.
Forget paying respects to the gods. I’d come back just for the magical weather.