I see my foes maneuvering. I can watch from above, in the city. I see that he lies now as he lied in the past. I see the pain of the Ki-Duru child. I see all that fair Lady Kismet has woven for the world spiral into the uncertainty. I see the power that mortals could have, and I wonder if it would be worth it. We do not value order overmuch here, certainly not in the outcast land of Fallen Atlantis. But Kismet is not to be taken lightly. Her webs are thick over this coupling, and while a wrong turn would not cast the world into darkness or any such thing, it wouldn't be good.
No, I have to do something. The Spider is not a being to be trusted. The Zahadu will be restored the proper way.


"Have yeh been listening ta me at all, boy?" the huge blacksmith growled.
Giri blinked. She had to focus for a moment to realize that she was in the city smithy, inquiring about an apprenticeship there. It wasn't her first choice-far from it-but after asking around for an hour or so, it had become clear that this blacksmith was the only one who needed any new workers. It wouldn't be an easy job, but the spirits she became one with could help her.
"That's where you're wrong," that grating voice in her mind said. Giri faintly realized that it was only the third time she had heard the spirit that had forced itself into her. "But I can help you. I know a few tricks I've picked up. And you may want to start paying attention now."
"I said," the blacksmith repeated, "are yeh good with yer hands?"
"Oh, uh, yes sir!" Giri stammered, trying to sound masculine. "I have good hands, they told me that back on the farm. Quick hands."
"Tha's good," the blacksmith grunted. "Are yeh strong?"
"You can be," the spirit whispered to her.
"Yes sir," Giri replied.
"Good. Yer hired. I'll be expecting yeh here tommorow by sunup. Go off now, I have a lotta work ta get to."
Giri nodded, then thought for a moment about where Ki-Duru would be. It was only midmorning, not early enough for him to have returned to the inn for a midday meal.
"Don't worry about Ki-Duru," the voice whispered. "He's protected. He's in a bad place right now, but I'm helping him. But it may take a while for him to return."
"Boy," the smith growled. "I said beat it."
"Oh!" Giri cried, "of course sir! I'm sorry. I'm just a bit of a dreamer. That's what they always told me. Just a bit of a dreamer..." she trailed off, trying to prove how easily distracted she was without making it look fake. She focused for a second on the spirit in her mind.
You need to stop distracting me, she told it.
"Oh, that's the thanks I get?"
"I don't care if 'they' told yeh that yer a lame, blind, manlover," the blacksmith grumbled. "Yer're hired, but yer remainin' here for much longer might change that."
"Of course, sir! I'm sorry sir!" And Giri promptly ran out the door, nearly crashing into a tall dark man in the garb of a city guard.