Xechi knew within minutes that her read on the enemy was correct. Although the bulk of the army remained drawn up by the portal, as soon as their group had started to move, a good two hundred soldiers had started marching after them. Xechi's troops were... perhaps a squad of city guards and two more squads of private guards for the Clan. Not more than that.

Once they were in motion, inertia had the Clan's guards taking command of the rest--Xechi didn't feel in charge, although she had no doubt that if a shouting match erupted, she could hold her own. They were good, of course--hired guards in a military nation like this one had a lot of competition. They were organized, urgent. The only thing they lacked was the insight that Xechi had, that they were firmly in the enemy's eye.

Of course, Xechi--for all that she was resigned to dying here--had no intention of rolling over and letting the enemy win. She fell in with the rear guard, and although she sensed the enemy nipping at her heels, she held her tongue. To be an effective distraction, the enemy had to be sure who they were following.

"So whaddya think of that Eyes guy, anyway? Trust him?" Muir continued riding on Xechi's shoulder the whole way, although it took active concentration on both their parts. It was no small thanks to magic, of course--Muir reduced her effective weight, and clung tenaciously to her friend with more than just the strength of her muscles. It still wouldn't do in combat, but for a steady jog like this, it was... difficult, but doable.

"This is his idea," groused Xechi in return. It wasn't, exactly, but...

"You think it's revenge for the thing on the bridge?"

Xechi tripped and fell face-first into the dirt.

"You two okay?" The next-closest guard stopped his jog to watch their backs as they got up. "Come on, keep up."

Muir was as bruised in ego and body from the fall as Xechi was--which wasn't badly, but they still felt it. Xechi put her friend up on her other shoulder as a change of pace, and switched hands with the poleaxed as well. "No, Muir," she answered after a minute, "I do not think this is revenge for pulling down a god's pants. I was simply shown that we were a target, and I chose after that."

Around that time, big fat raindrops started falling, and Xechi realized that in spite of it all, what had started out as a clear night was suddenly looking like it might turn into a heavy rain. Closer to the city, she saw a flash, heard a rumble of thunder.

And then, again, a closer flash, a rumble that lasted seconds rather than instants. Somehow, there was a feeling on the wind, on the rain, a very familiar feeling. Although it should not have been possible, it felt like him. Xechi had just prayed to him, still felt that connection. This storm was his.

So she grimaced up at the clouds, letting big raindrops hit her face.

"...Maybe this storm, though. Maybe that is revenge for pantsing a god."

Very far away, the avatar of Xethram snorted quietly to himself, the smile lasting only a moment before it was forgotten.

Miana got through the whole book in very short order--all except the last page, which seemed locked by a force she did not understand. The blessing was potent, but as Ryan had said, it only gave her a basic understanding of what she had read.

Unfortunately, much of it was useless right now.

She didn't have the spare power to make another body, could not do much to create enchantments... indeed there were a great many things that the Goddess had done that she could not. She could sense that the religion of the Goddess remained--she sensed a connection to Vicars across Belma, to Angels and Archangels pledged to her Name.

She had a stronger sense of connection with the Candidates than she did with anyone else in her religion, though, even though many of them she had not met directly before the call to replace Murn. If the rest, especially the Vicars and Angels, knew that the Goddess had died and been replaced... she would still be still a stranger, if one that the Goddess had trusted to succeed her.

To Ulia, to Loi, to Xechi, to Chibal, and to Muir, though... they knew. They didn't just know that there was a goddess; they knew the goddess. When they reached for her, she knew them, and when she sent a signal to them, they knew it was her. For others it might be faith, but for them, it was Truth.

As she steadied herself, she felt that all of the Vicars were, in one way or another, reaching for her, searching for answers. She reached out, touched them, and one at a time, confirmed to each that something awful had happened, but that things would be alright.

Miana did not have the subtle nature that Chibal had, but she could swear her instincts were telling her that some of the vicars knew the Goddess had been planning to die... and others had not known anything. She was baffled by this information, but filed it away. If nothing else, it seemed to confirm that part of the God of Eyes' story.

And yet, she sensed deceit in him still. Withholding. Mistrust. Cowardice.

She gritted her teeth and reached out to the Archangel guarding a Church of Blades in the town of Ji'am, which was the closest to the fleeing citizens. This Archangel--a spirit dedicated to the goddess, but bound to the place and not a person--mentally genuflected to her, but seemed... dumb. Or, she supposed, it was simply dead. Without a companion Vicar, how much could this spirit do for her? That was not an issue covered in depth in the book.

I need to speak with a priest, Miana insisted.

Asleep. Morning comes. The spirit was placid, to the point that Miana felt irritated that it wasn't able to grasp the situation.

Wake them!

Asleep. Morning comes.

Miana gritted her teeth. There was a Vicar no more than two towns over, but East of Balant, where there were no easy roads. With the refugees going Southwest, that was no help... except... she frowned, sensing that Xechi and Muir were going that way. She reached for her friend, but found that Xechi, who was not in a position to pray, could not hear her. She sensed that she could appear... but the woman was jogging through the night and could not pay heed to a shadow.

So she found this Vicar--a ugly Jackal-man who was pacing in the night, unsettled, with twin axes in his hands--and appeared in his shadow instead.

He stopped and knelt, but he seemed to sense something off immediately. "Goddess... what is... wrong?"

Miana realized suddenly that she had no way to pretend to be the previous goddess. This man had not known of Her plan... what could she do? Especially now?

Lacking anything better, she forced herself to ignore the problem. "The town of Balant has fallen under attack this very night. Some of my people are fleeing in your direction. I beg of you to travel West and search for them."

Her Vicar stared at the shadow, as though tracing its outline in the starlight. Miana could sense his Angel trying to calm him, but the Jackal seemed to snarl at her. "You are... not my goddess."

Miana hesitated. If the Goddess had not trusted him with the secret, should she? "I have not lied. I will not lie. I am the Goddess of Blades. My people need you." Miana raised her chin, defiantly, although her Vicar would not even get a sense of the action. She was not so trusting as to give answers freely to everyone in her care, and this was a sensitive issue. "Now is the hour I need your loyalty. Offer it, or be gone from my sight."

The jackal cocked his head to the side for a minute. "I'm sorely tempted to take you up on that offer," he said, his lips peeling back to reveal fangs. "But after. Once we're done cleaning up this little attack, then you set me free of this damned thing."

Miana blinked back tears, and let the connection drop without further words. A vicar who did not wish to be? Was that the kind of Goddess she had worshiped? Had she really known her at all?

Miana found a hand on her shoulder--that of Xethram. She looked to him, and he offered a smile, his eyes vaguely pointed away, distant. Was he even really present? How did it work, having more than one body? Nevertheless, she stole a moment's comfort, grabbing his hand and squeezing it desperately, then taking a deep breath and closing her eyes.

She had all manner of things she had to sort out, and some of them were entirely in her head. Was she going to try to imitate the last goddess, or become a different person? Was that perhaps inevitable? How could she possibly keep her people calm and protected when she was in such a messy state?

Abruptly, she stood. She found and threw open the door Raine had come in, and in the darkness, scrambled her way up the rocks outside to the cliff above. She didn't even both trying to understand what was going on around her, she just needed fresh air.

Once she could find a place on the stone cliff, she threw off her boots and sat cross-legged on a rock, doing her best to clear her mind. Something about the sense of height here made her feel more at home--not merely the fact that she was high up. Something about this spot in particular, she felt like her perspective and her responsibility carried with it a sense of power, It wasn't much... but it calmed her, steadied her.

Once she had calmed down, she reached inside herself and tried to understand what it meant to be a goddess, but she found no easy answers. Perhaps, she realized as minutes flew by, there were no easy answers.

If that was the case, she would have to work hard to find a good answer, instead. Her people were counting on her, after all. It wouldn't be easy, or fast, but it needed to be done. And Miana was a warrior, and a Blade. She would get it done.