Our little talk and the attendant demonstration had not been quiet. I’d sensed the room’s wards and knew they wouldn’t have shielded the weight of Rijoko’s attention from our surroundings. I suspected that every priest here would have at least a rough idea of what had taken place, not that I minded.

It would go some way to explaining the deference with which I was being treated now. No one had even hinted at the possibility that I wasn’t Rijoko’s daughter. Although I’d mostly talked to the high priest. He’d shown me to more comfortable chambers, and we were currently seated in a sitting room with large windows and cushy furniture, while servants had brought refreshments. Not exactly a humble cell, but the place wasn’t anywhere near as luxurious as where I was quartered, at least.

“Do you take sugar, my lady?” the high priest asked while he prepared a cup of brown brew. Despite its unpronounceable name, I’d found it was the closest thing to coffee on Aran, or maybe more like black tea.

“Why not, but just a bit.”

I let him prepare a cup for me and sipped it as he sat back. It would taste better with milk, but I decided not to request a servant bring that. Delicately, I sat the cup down on its saucer and watched Moongrace for a moment. He was careful not to meet my eyes, I noted.

“You might need to adjust your plans for the solstice,” I finally said. “I’ll use that day to commune with Rijoko.”

The high priest looked up at that. “My lady, if you would deign to grace us with your presence, your participation at the holiday celebration would be quite an honor for the priesthood and the worshipers at the ceremony,” he delicately said.

I raised an eyebrow and considered that. “No,” I decided. “I may make an appearance, but you’ll have to handle the ceremony yourselves. I will spend the time visiting what passes for your inner sanctum in seclusion.” Assuming I stayed there. I wouldn’t bet against Rijoko having connected this to the same kind of other place where I’d awakened my bloodline.

Moongrace bowed his head. “By your will, my lady.”

Yeah, he really seems to have been cowed, doesn’t he? I raised the cup again and took another sip, buying me a moment.

“May I be of further assistance, Your Highness?” he asked after a short pause.

“Later, probably,” I answered. “I’d like to hear what information you have on the City-State’s political situation. I’ll need to get a better idea of what the people I may have to work with want, but your assistance would be appreciated then.”

He smiled and ducked his head again. “I’ll be pleased to provide it, my lady.” After a short hesitation, he continued. “After all, the temple in Adzur is the center of Rijoko’s worship on this world. We will gladly cooperate with you.”

I suppressed a snort and stopped myself before I could explain that I had no intention of getting involved in that conflict. That might be a bit too undiplomatic. But I knew I’d have to be careful not to be seen as supporting their bid for hegemony over Rijoko’s temples elsewhere. If nothing else, I’d rather have those in the Empire standing on their own. Not to mention it just seems like a bad idea to meddle in Rijoko’s earthly worship.

“We’ll see,” I said evenly.

He nodded and didn’t press the matter, probably sensing my reluctance. I closed my eyes and focused on my senses, sweeping my attention over the temple and its surroundings. It was the largest religious structure I’d seen, and as far as I could tell also larger than the other neighboring temples. There were quite a number of people here, whose presence I could sense between layers of wards and other formations.

It shouldn’t have surprised me to find a few spirit-children, but it did. I stiffened a little when I came across one presence that had that clear tint of spiritual qi, before I shook my head and moved on. As far as I could tell, none of them were descendants of Rijoko himself. If they were, it would be very distantly. I opened my eyes and frowned into my tea. There was the urge to get up and seek them out, to talk to them, but I refrained. It did remind me of another reason I came here, though.

“High priest Moongrace,” I said. “I assume your temples have records about spirit-children, correct?”

He blinked, but mastered his surprise quickly. “We do, my lady.”

“Then bring me what relevant knowledge you have,” I ordered. “Especially regarding their powers.”

He bowed and rose to pass on instructions, while I finished the rest of my cup in silence. It didn’t take long for my request to be fulfilled. Over the course of ten minutes or so, priests brought records folders and sheets of paper.

I set about going through them while ignoring Moongrace’s presence. He lingered, but remained silent and didn’t disturb me. There was too much to read and memorize it all, though I’d ask for copies to be made so I could take them back. The records were well-ordered, but not very specific, and the sort of knowledge I sought was often nested between other things.

I found it a little amusing that a lot of the material dealt with spirit-children other than those of Rijoko or even spirits known to be associated with him. Those tended to be more concisely written with a focus on ability profiles, too. Even a few blatant threat assessments, though those seemed a bit dated. They didn’t help me much when it came to evaluating my own power, although shapeshifting was more or less universal and they did give me an idea of a general level of power and complexity.

Combined with the information on actual descendants of Rijoko, it painted a rather telling picture. I put down the last folder I’d looked through and closed my eyes, leaning my head back and rubbing my temples.

“I should have known it was too much,” I muttered.

“My lady?” the high priest asked.

I shook my head. Even taken on their own, my powers were amazingly powerful and useful when employed correctly. I’d mostly abused my dream-sending to facilitate instant and untraceable communication, but in the hands of an experienced telepath it could be a horrifying tool, too. Sure, cultivators, especially the stronger ones, only needed to sleep rarely, which went a long way to moderating that strength, but rarely wasn’t never and there were many other people. Then there was shapeshifting so good it basically entailed free regeneration and immortality. God, the guidance thing might be vague, but it had the makings of a hell of a cheat. I should start taking more advantage of that, I noted in a corner of my mind, but the rest was occupied with other thoughts.

“Do you believe in free will, high priest?” I asked.

He stilled. “Of course, my lady. While the Moon provides guidance, it is ever our choice to interpret and follow it. Our will is our own.“

After a moment of silent thought, I blinked and shifted my attention back to my surroundings. He didn’t quite hide the curiosity in his eyes. I should have expected to get an answer based on doctrine, but it had been an idle question, anyway.

“I tell myself that it’s pretty simple, really,” I said. “If I don’t have free will, it doesn’t matter anyway, and I’ll do what I was going to do regardless. If I do, then I can choose, at least to some degree. So, I should just do what I would want to do anyway, that’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“Wise words, my lady,” Moongrace commented. “Naturally.”

I snorted. “Yeah, right.” But I found my gaze sliding down to the documents again.

I’d suspected this. It was pretty clear I was somewhat more powerful than your average spirit-child, perhaps even those of Greater Spirits. More importantly, I had better control or better flexibility in how I could use that, not just raw strength. Some part of that could be laid on the feet of my special ability, but for all I knew, that was related to my bloodline, too. None of it was outside the normal range, not really, but if this was decided randomly it would have been a very lucky roll. I sighed to myself. I’d refrained from asking Elia about her father so far, out of respect for my friend’s grief, but perhaps I should start.

“Do you know how I came to be, Moongrace?” I asked, genuinely curious.

He hesitated. “Rumor has it my lady’s mother struck a bargain with the Moon in order to get with child,” he answered. “More has not been revealed to me.”

I nodded. That was probably to be expected, and I couldn’t say I minded. Judging by the way Isuro and Jideia seemed to care about the details, at least, it was probably good that Rijoko didn’t announce it to the world. Well, not that I would want that, either, if I was honest with myself.

I was created for a specific purpose. I grimaced internally. Designed for a purpose, even. I knew that.

I shook my head to shake off the thought and put the files back on a stack. “I’m done here,” I said. “Please have copies made of all of these files and bring them to me. Then I’ll trouble you no more.”

“Of course, my lady.” He bowed and left.

I looked out the window, watching the bustle of people in the temple’s courtyard. If I concentrated, I could sense an edge of activity that happened at the altars, probably when people made offerings to Rijoko. It was not a comforting feeling.

Moongrace brought me the copies I’d requested and I stashed them in my storage ring. I bid my goodbyes to the high priest, graciously pretending I didn’t see the flicker of relief in his eyes, then left. A few steps out of the door, Aston joined me. I nodded at him and we walked through the temple together, ignoring curious looks.

“Aston, do you believe in … well, gods, I suppose?” I asked as we left the main temple complex.

He raised an eyebrow. “To be frank, that seems like a strange question. Of course I know the Greater Spirits exist, and acknowledge their power. I have, on occasion, given offerings to some of the Greater Spirits, including the Moon. But I wouldn’t call myself a true follower of any of them.”

“Right.” That was probably a common attitude in this world. And it’s sensible, I suppose.

Aston didn’t turn the question on me, and I didn’t speak about my own beliefs, or lack thereof. Even if I was inclined to debate it, we had very different cultural imprints when it came to religion. Instead, we left the temple in silence. I nodded at the other guards that were waiting outside and boarded the carriage again. As we left over the bridge, I glanced back at the temple, then turned my attention back to the city in front of us.

We met Elia just after the bridge, on the plateau where the others converged. She appeared in front of the carriage as soon as the guards stopped it and climbed inside.

“I hope you didn’t have to wait for us too long,” I said. I should have called her to tell her it was going to take longer, though I didn’t trust the temple not to try to eavesdrop on my communications.

She waved that aside. “It worked out, and I could have made my own way home.”

I nodded. I’d spent at least an hour in the temple, so whatever she’d done was more than a quick check-in. “Did whatever you were about work out okay?”

She shrugged. “Reasonably, I suppose.”

I glanced out the window, looking at the colorful streets and bridges that people and vehicles swarmed over. This city was at least as big as the Empire’s capital, if you counted the outlying but tightly linked islands. Considering the way the Adzurians had bound the Chain together, it was a little hard to mark where the city ended and the surrounding landscape began.

“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” I asked. She’d mentioned that a few weeks ago.

“Once, when I was a kid,” Elia answered. “I don’t remember it well, but it hasn’t changed much.” She looked out at the city with a fixed gaze, instead of truly taking in the sights. Something was clearly on her mind, and probably nothing good.

I was about to ask, then closed my mouth. Pushing wouldn’t do me any good with Elia, it rarely did. She was too much of a free spirit to like being cornered, even in conversation or by friends.

My patience was rewarded five minutes later, when she returned her gaze back to the inside of the vehicle. “I went to the temple of the Sun to look for information about my father,” she said.

I raised an eyebrow. “You think he went and visited them?”

“Maybe. But even if he didn’t visit the temple, they could help me find out more,” she explained. “The priests of Piallara are usually quite well-informed. They make it a point to get information on events and people of interest, and they will share some of it if you know how to ask.”

“Wait.” I sat up straighter. “Are you telling me the priests of the truth and justice are running some kind of informant network?”

Elia grinned and shook her head. “Not quite. It’s more that they have connections to existing information brokers operating in a gray legal area.”

And those would probably have connections to shadier informants, if they didn’t directly, I inferred. Not quite what I would have expected, but then it was all about finding the truth in some sense.

“Anyway,” Elia continued, “he did visit the temple about a year before his death. Apparently, he came to Adzur with a group of Dominion heavies, although his visit to the temple had little to do with their mission and they couldn’t tell me more about that.”

“But even knowing who he was working with could help your investigation, couldn’t it?” I asked.

She nodded, as serious as I’d ever seen her. “Right, which is why I asked for all the information they had on them. I’ll look through the files in detail later. Meanwhile, some of their informants did have some insight on what the group was here for. It seems like the Zarian were trying a discreet attempt to get some of the Adzurian’s rarer formations patterns and technology.”

I frowned. “If we can follow up on that, it might help with why we’re here,” I muttered. Then I shook my head. “Not that I’ll butt in on your investigation, Elia.”

“It’s alright.” She hesitated. “I would like to ask for your help, in fact. I might have gotten some information here, but this is just one city. Or one small country, whatever. Learning what the Empire’s intelligence apparatus has on the people involved could be just the push I need.”

I smiled. “No worries. I’ll tell Kariva to give you whatever she knows. Ask if you want to employ any of our agents for something more, but I wouldn’t be opposed in principle.”

Elia frowned. “Are you sure, Inaris? You don’t want me to promise something in exchange? This is pretty … substantial.”

The colder part of me knew that binding Elia to me more tightly was valuable in the long run, probably more so than some information and some risk to Kariva’s agents. But that wasn’t why I smiled and shook my head again. “No, Elia,” I said. “We’re friends. I don’t want to be bartering favors with you.”

She smiled back and I knew I wouldn’t regret that decision.