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"So you have disposed of the renegade?"

"I have, Lord Masod," Inlé answered, once more on the dais among the gods. He stood at attention, emotionlessly prepared for the questions that would be sent his way before he could return home.

The first goddess spoke, "And what of those absorbed? Is their fate, then, lost? Are we all to fall away, now?"

"Lady Bremudaia, the souls removed are stored here." Inlé held up a hand containing ten silver coins. Each coin was of slightly different size and shape, and each held a different face, one being Larjam's.

"Impressive," Namryd said. "I am surprised you knew how to do that, Wanderer."

"Truly, I did not, Lord," Inlé answered, "until the need arose. Now, try a thousand times, I would be unable to repeat the feat. This power I have is fleeting."

"Still," the goddess beside Masod said, "that you were able to do so once to so many souls at once is a feat above any a mortal has hence done in this realm."

"Save one, good Lady Thyacin," Inlé answered. "Save one."

"And what, pray," Masod sneered, "was that? Your repairs to our world? That is also a powerful feat."

"Three laws broken, one bent, and seventy-three manipulations of powers, Lord."

A voice in the crowd called out, "A pity you don't charge by the challenge!" A murmur went up around the court.

Inlé turned and punched his heart, saying, "Lord Danym, were I to charge in such a way, there would be few even among your varied peers able to aptly compensate. But I truly would have little use for what I would be paid for such services."

Masod grunted. "Whether or not that were true, you have not told us what you believe is a more impressive feat, boy. Well?"

Inlé returned to facing the five thrones. "Lord, truly, this should be of no surprise, but I find the abilities of the late Lord Larjam surpass all feats aforementioned outright."

The dismay from the gods filling the amphitheater shook the mountain it sat upon to its roots. The pressure of this display of power nearly crushed Inlé's body, though the only evidence of his being affected were his wounds spurting a small amount of blood before he stopped it with a wave of his hand over his heart.

"Am I then to believe, Wanderer," Namryd began, "that you ... admired this man? That you held some sort of respect for him?"

"Admiration, Lord, none. A lawbreaker is a lawbreaker, and I have no tolerance for such activity ..."

"I see," Namryd said, sounding relieved.

"... But," Inlé continued, "I do indeed respect him in that he was able to find a loophole in governance of this universe and exploit it. His methods were, initially, wholly lawful. Unfortunately, his madness drove him to outright shatter some of the laws.

"And his ability to manipulate powers newly discovered within himself to such a degree as to break things to the degree that they were broken surpasses my meager, though honed, skills being used to repair them. It was much easier to repair them than to break them."

Masod leapt from his seat. "You envy the bastard!"

"I do not," Inlé replied.

Masod prowled around the central dais. "You want his power for yourself!"

"I do not," Inlé replied.

"And did you learn how he acquired his powers?" Masod asked, in a suddenly oily voice.

"I certainly did, Lord," Inlé replied.

"So you could use it against us?"

"I could not, Lord."

"And what is it that would prevent you, Wanderer?" asked the goddess beside Bremudaia.

Inlé punched his heart as he answered, "Even had I not closed that loophole when I discovered it, I am not capable, Lady Lanie, of doubting your existence. I do not know of any who could so strongly disbelieve as that man has done."

"Masod, sit," Namryd ordered. Masod obeyed. "So, Wanderer, how are we to retrieve our brethren from your coins?"

"Lord, you need only call to them as I hold up the coin. I believe they will manifest of their own will upon your summons."

"It is almost too simple," Bremudaia said. "Wanderer, may I see one of the coins before we call them? I wish to see how you so cleanly sealed them."

"Certainly, Lady. Have you a preference as to whom you would like?" Inlé opened his palm.

"Just throw me any of them--except for Larjam." She shuddered slightly as she said the name. A coin was thrown.

"And speaking of him," Thyacin said, "What is to be done with him? Must he be freed?"

"Lady, he need not be released," Inlé answered. "But, had I the choice--which I do not, having not the power to do so--I would return him to the cycle of lives. Merely releasing him under different circumstances could bring him to cause great good, even as he has done great harm.

"Imagine, if you would, his unbelief which gave him the power to steal your own turned to belief. His conviction--his certitude--could greatly benefit your causes were he a follower. Releasing him into a place where he would be raised devout may be beneficial. And, were it possible, I would return him to a place away from the woman he follows so doggedly. If only as a kindness."

"Perhaps we shall," Namryd mused. "But let us begin with the others for now."

The calling took only a short while for each coin to dissolve as its relative god emerged unscathed. Eight callings went perfectly. Then the last god was to be called.

"At last," said Namryd. "My son returned to me. Rensyd, come."

The coin shook and glowed. A voice called, "No."

Another commotion arose with the gods' shock.

"What?" Namryd cried. "You defy me?"

"Father, I do," The voice said. "Please, let me die. Let me die and forget. I do not wish to go through this painful cycle again."

Namryd's face looked as if it would break. "Son, why? Why must you do this?"

The coin shook, "You do not understand, father. Death is painful, even dying peacefully. And birth ... Babies do not cry without reason."

Namryd said, "Is there no way I can convince you to stay?"

Rensyd replied, "None, father. I can no longer stand this as I am. I am not so strong as you need me."

Inlé cleared his throat. "If I may be so bold, Lord Rensyd, would a companion aid in your ability to tolerate this?"

The coin hummed in Inlé's palm. "... A companion?"

"If, say, there was another god who grew with you, lived with you, perhaps even died with you. Perhaps they would share your discomforts, but perhaps that would lessen the sting from both of your pains."

Namryd said, "Do you mean yourself, Wanderer?"

"Alas, no. While such a prospect is to some desirable, I am not able to fill such a position. I am not for such things."

"But to create a god, boy," Masod said, "that is a thing quite difficult. And even were one of us to bear a child, even from Rensyd's own seed, there would be little hope he would share that position."

"Then, Lord, we merely split the original. A suggestion: using a host soul, we channel a small portion of Rensyd into this other soul. We then allow the portion to consume the other soul and grow into a near exact replica of the original. The soul consumed would not be destroyed, but remolded into something more.

"This of course would be dangerous, as using a weak soul may cause Rensyd to lose his expended power by destroying the soul utterly. Also, if the portion is not properly removed, Rensyd will not regenerate it.

"But, Lords and Ladies, we even have a soul capable of fostering this seeding process available."

"Wanderer, you don't mean to suggest ..." the goddess choked on the name.

"Yes, Lady Lanie, I do," Inlé said. "Larjam has already shown the capacity for his soul to contain a deity's power. If properly administered, he may not be such a ... problematic participant.

"Would this suffice, Lord Rensyd?"

"Would you be able to do this, Wanderer? Could you transfer the power?"

Inlé paused. His emotionless face was unreadable, but it was understood that he was calculating the odds of success. The gods grew silent.

After a long, restless wait, Inlé answered, "I could, perhaps." Then, so quietly that only Rensyd in his hand could hear, "There is an eighty per cent chance the power would be transferrable. Within that is a thirty-five per cent chance that power will be regenerated within you, and a separate fifty-eight per cent chance that the power will become manifest in the new soul. This means that the optimal outcome has just less than a thirteen per cent chance for success."

Rensyd asked quietly, "How much less?"

"Eight thousandths of one per cent. Meaning the odds are twelve point nine-nine-two per cent in your favor."

"Not exceptional odds to stake my soul on."

"No, Lord."

"Well, it can't be worse than dying, I suppose."

"That, Lord, I would not know."

"Be thankful for that," Rensyd said. Then he said more loudly, "Very well, I will try it. Father, would you call us out?"

The last two coins dissolved, and Rensyd and Larjam emerged, Larjam unconscious.

"It was my belief," Inlé explained, "that were you to return this man to the cycle, you would want an easy way to kill him before he could resist."

"Drat!" Bremudaia said. "I should have looked at his coin too, after all."

"Lady, I am sure you will quickly find the method used to do this."

"Doubtless," Namryd agreed. "Now, Inlé, please begin the process."

"I will, Lord," Inlé answered, punching his heart.

Description
"So you have disposed of the renegade?"

"I have, Lord Masod," Inlé answered, once more on the dais among the gods. He stood at attention, emotionlessly prepared for the questions that would be sent his way before he could return home.

The first goddess spoke, "And what of those absorbed? Is their fate, then, lost? Are we all to fall away, now?"

"Lady Bremudaia, the souls removed are stored here." Inlé held up a hand containing ten silver coins. Each coin was of slightly different size and shape, and each held a different face, one being Larjam's.

"Impressive," Namryd said. "I am surprised you knew how to do that, Wanderer."

"Truly, I did not, Lord," Inlé answered, "until the need arose. Now, try a thousand times, I would be unable to repeat the feat. This power I have is fleeting."

"Still," the goddess beside Masod said, "that you were able to do so once to so many souls at once is a feat above any a mortal has hence done in this realm."

"Save one, good Lady Thyacin," Inlé answered. "Save one."

"And what, pray," Masod sneered, "was that? Your repairs to our world? That is also a powerful feat."

"Three laws broken, one bent, and seventy-three manipulations of powers, Lord."

A voice in the crowd called out, "A pity you don't charge by the challenge!" A murmur went up around the court.

Inlé turned and punched his heart, saying, "Lord Danym, were I to charge in such a way, there would be few even among your varied peers able to aptly compensate. But I truly would have little use for what I would be paid for such services."

Masod grunted. "Whether or not that were true, you have not told us what you believe is a more impressive feat, boy. Well?"

Inlé returned to facing the five thrones. "Lord, truly, this should be of no surprise, but I find the abilities of the late Lord Larjam surpass all feats aforementioned outright."

The dismay from the gods filling the amphitheater shook the mountain it sat upon to its roots. The pressure of this display of power nearly crushed Inlé's body, though the only evidence of his being affected were his wounds spurting a small amount of blood before he stopped it with a wave of his hand over his heart.

"Am I then to believe, Wanderer," Namryd began, "that you ... admired this man? That you held some sort of respect for him?"

"Admiration, Lord, none. A lawbreaker is a lawbreaker, and I have no tolerance for such activity ..."

"I see," Namryd said, sounding relieved.

"... But," Inlé continued, "I do indeed respect him in that he was able to find a loophole in governance of this universe and exploit it. His methods were, initially, wholly lawful. Unfortunately, his madness drove him to outright shatter some of the laws.

"And his ability to manipulate powers newly discovered within himself to such a degree as to break things to the degree that they were broken surpasses my meager, though honed, skills being used to repair them. It was much easier to repair them than to break them."

Masod leapt from his seat. "You envy the bastard!"

"I do not," Inlé replied.

Masod prowled around the central dais. "You want his power for yourself!"

"I do not," Inlé replied.

"And did you learn how he acquired his powers?" Masod asked, in a suddenly oily voice.

"I certainly did, Lord," Inlé replied.

"So you could use it against us?"

"I could not, Lord."

"And what is it that would prevent you, Wanderer?" asked the goddess beside Bremudaia.

Inlé punched his heart as he answered, "Even had I not closed that loophole when I discovered it, I am not capable, Lady Lanie, of doubting your existence. I do not know of any who could so strongly disbelieve as that man has done."

"Masod, sit," Namryd ordered. Masod obeyed. "So, Wanderer, how are we to retrieve our brethren from your coins?"

"Lord, you need only call to them as I hold up the coin. I believe they will manifest of their own will upon your summons."

"It is almost too simple," Bremudaia said. "Wanderer, may I see one of the coins before we call them? I wish to see how you so cleanly sealed them."

"Certainly, Lady. Have you a preference as to whom you would like?" Inlé opened his palm.

"Just throw me any of them--except for Larjam." She shuddered slightly as she said the name. A coin was thrown.

"And speaking of him," Thyacin said, "What is to be done with him? Must he be freed?"

"Lady, he need not be released," Inlé answered. "But, had I the choice--which I do not, having not the power to do so--I would return him to the cycle of lives. Merely releasing him under different circumstances could bring him to cause great good, even as he has done great harm.

"Imagine, if you would, his unbelief which gave him the power to steal your own turned to belief. His conviction--his certitude--could greatly benefit your causes were he a follower. Releasing him into a place where he would be raised devout may be beneficial. And, were it possible, I would return him to a place away from the woman he follows so doggedly. If only as a kindness."

"Perhaps we shall," Namryd mused. "But let us begin with the others for now."

The calling took only a short while for each coin to dissolve as its relative god emerged unscathed. Eight callings went perfectly. Then the last god was to be called.

"At last," said Namryd. "My son returned to me. Rensyd, come."

The coin shook and glowed. A voice called, "No."

Another commotion arose with the gods' shock.

"What?" Namryd cried. "You defy me?"

"Father, I do," The voice said. "Please, let me die. Let me die and forget. I do not wish to go through this painful cycle again."

Namryd's face looked as if it would break. "Son, why? Why must you do this?"

The coin shook, "You do not understand, father. Death is painful, even dying peacefully. And birth ... Babies do not cry without reason."

Namryd said, "Is there no way I can convince you to stay?"

Rensyd replied, "None, father. I can no longer stand this as I am. I am not so strong as you need me."

Inlé cleared his throat. "If I may be so bold, Lord Rensyd, would a companion aid in your ability to tolerate this?"

The coin hummed in Inlé's palm. "... A companion?"

"If, say, there was another god who grew with you, lived with you, perhaps even died with you. Perhaps they would share your discomforts, but perhaps that would lessen the sting from both of your pains."

Namryd said, "Do you mean yourself, Wanderer?"

"Alas, no. While such a prospect is to some desirable, I am not able to fill such a position. I am not for such things."

"But to create a god, boy," Masod said, "that is a thing quite difficult. And even were one of us to bear a child, even from Rensyd's own seed, there would be little hope he would share that position."

"Then, Lord, we merely split the original. A suggestion: using a host soul, we channel a small portion of Rensyd into this other soul. We then allow the portion to consume the other soul and grow into a near exact replica of the original. The soul consumed would not be destroyed, but remolded into something more.

"This of course would be dangerous, as using a weak soul may cause Rensyd to lose his expended power by destroying the soul utterly. Also, if the portion is not properly removed, Rensyd will not regenerate it.

"But, Lords and Ladies, we even have a soul capable of fostering this seeding process available."

"Wanderer, you don't mean to suggest ..." the goddess choked on the name.

"Yes, Lady Lanie, I do," Inlé said. "Larjam has already shown the capacity for his soul to contain a deity's power. If properly administered, he may not be such a ... problematic participant.

"Would this suffice, Lord Rensyd?"

"Would you be able to do this, Wanderer? Could you transfer the power?"

Inlé paused. His emotionless face was unreadable, but it was understood that he was calculating the odds of success. The gods grew silent.

After a long, restless wait, Inlé answered, "I could, perhaps." Then, so quietly that only Rensyd in his hand could hear, "There is an eighty per cent chance the power would be transferrable. Within that is a thirty-five per cent chance that power will be regenerated within you, and a separate fifty-eight per cent chance that the power will become manifest in the new soul. This means that the optimal outcome has just less than a thirteen per cent chance for success."

Rensyd asked quietly, "How much less?"

"Eight thousandths of one per cent. Meaning the odds are twelve point nine-nine-two per cent in your favor."

"Not exceptional odds to stake my soul on."

"No, Lord."

"Well, it can't be worse than dying, I suppose."

"That, Lord, I would not know."

"Be thankful for that," Rensyd said. Then he said more loudly, "Very well, I will try it. Father, would you call us out?"

The last two coins dissolved, and Rensyd and Larjam emerged, Larjam unconscious.

"It was my belief," Inlé explained, "that were you to return this man to the cycle, you would want an easy way to kill him before he could resist."

"Drat!" Bremudaia said. "I should have looked at his coin too, after all."

"Lady, I am sure you will quickly find the method used to do this."

"Doubtless," Namryd agreed. "Now, Inlé, please begin the process."

"I will, Lord," Inlé answered, punching his heart.