And then, just as Cithrin began to feel she had her balance back, Master Kit had pricked his thumb with Yardem’s dagger and tiny black spiders had come out.
“And if you were to speak to me,” Isadau said.
“I would be very difficult to disbelieve,” Master Kit said. “Even those things which you had evidence against, you would eventually find some way to justify.”
“Even if it was absurd?”
Master Kit’s smile was melancholic.
“I have tried to dedicate my life to the discovery of the world as it truly is,” he said, “and even knowing what I knew, it seems I have been unable to avoid believing absurdities. I believe I could convince you of anything.”
Yardem made a low sound in his throat, part growl and part chuckle. Master Kit’s glance was a question.
“Just recalling all our philosophical debates,” Yardem said. “You could have won all of them if you’d cared to.”
“I hope I chose my words carefully enough to respect the beliefs I did not share.”
“All the same,” Isadau said, “you are an abomination.”
Cithrin scowled and began to object, but Kit beat her to it.
“Certainly I agree that I have a potential for evil that those unlike me do not. And I am afraid that this present violence is the fruit that grew from that bloom.”
“What is it they want?” Yardem asked, his voice a low rumble. “The other ones.”
“I believe they want to bring the world together under the banners of the goddess,” Kit said. “To place everything within her and make it part of her flesh. Before I fell from grace, I was told that we were waiting for a sign, and when that sign came we would return to the nations of humanity, stand against the forces of the dragon, and free the world at last from lies and deception.”
“By spreading their story,” Marcus said.
“Until there are no other stories,” Kit finished. “By ignoring or destroying anything that failed to match with the certainties of the goddess who is immune from lies.”
Magistra Isadau sat forward, her head sinking into her hands.
“Geder was that sign,” Cithrin said.
“In a sense, yes,” Master Kit said. “Though if it had not been him now, I suspect it would have been another at another time. I suspect signs are fairly easy to see for one dedicated to seeing them. And if a high priest believed that he had seen the hand of the goddess at work in the world, he would only need to say it, and it would become as true as anything else. As certain, at least. I don’t know the man who has taken the high priest’s place.”
“Basrahip,” Cithrin said. “His name’s Basrahip.”
“I assume he was initiated after I left,” Kit said. “But what he believes, he believes sincerely. And all the other priests will also believe. And then anyone who listens to their voices. And then … everyone.”
“Explains some things,” Yardem said.
Marcus turned to the Tralgu. “Explains what, for instance?”
“Why the Anteans haven’t been sent back with their tails between their legs,” Yardem said. “They’re overreaching badly, except that they keep winning. They’ve found a way to use this on the field. Give false reports to the enemy or some such.”
“Not to mention all the rumors about Geder’s strange powers,” Cithrin said. “All that about how he speaks with the dead and the fallen warriors rise up to fight alongside him. It’s not the man I met. Easier to think that’s one of those tales the priests convince everyone of than that it’s actually true.”
“And right now,” Magistra Isadau said through her fingers, “at this moment, the only people in the world who understand what this war is and what it means are sitting in this garden.”
“Yes,” Marcus said.
“You,” Isadau said, turning to Master Kit. “How do we stop this?”
“I don’t know,” Kit said.
Isadau nodded. The nictiting membranes closed over her eyes.
“Komme has to be told,” she said. “Oh, God. I have a very long letter to write, don’t I?”
For the rest of the day, Cithrin tried to go about her usual routine, but it all seemed false as rehearsing a play. There were contracts to review, but the armies of Antea were on the roads already, carrying the false goddess’s banners. The histories of the bank hadn’t quite all been read through, but Marcus and Master Kit had come and neither were quite the men she’d thought they were. Though that was more the case with Kit than Captain Wester. She