A quick glance at the first pages told Aili everything she needed to know about the volume of ancient history that Rabam had brought her. Still, she took one entire day to read it completely, hoping there was hidden information in later chapters.

The book didn’t begin with the arrival of the monks at the mountain, like she’d hoped, nor with the nomination of the first abbot or the construction of the chamber where the viss was stored. Instead, it was filled with the same myths and anecdotal stories she’d listened to during the lessons she had followed before becoming a monk. The book ended with the election of the tenth abbot, and even then it was difficult to distinguish which parts were true, which speculation, and which outright lies.

She put the book down behind her pedestal, being extra-careful in her movements, since she couldn't control well the pressure she was applying with the viss buzzing of frustration all around her body. Rabam had wrapped the covers with green cloth before delivering the books, so the monks couldn’t recognize them from a distance.

She was starting to doubt there was anything in the library about how the monks had discovered the deposits of viss, for example, and gathered it all inside the mountain as Daira had told her. It hurt to think about, but there was also the possibility that Daira had lied about it all, which meant she knew even less than she thought.

Still, she refused to accept it was all lost until she had looked everywhere. Maybe that part of history was deemed too dangerous to be recorded and was only told to some people. The abbot had to know something, maybe the priors too. Daira herself was a good starting point, but she had no idea how to talk to her without raising suspicions. She needed to earn the monks’ trust first, regardless of how she planned to gather information.

Her attention shifted to the second book, the one that listed the monks who had become gods, the very same one she’d read with Saia. She hesitated, letting the wave of nostalgia in her viss wash over her.

She missed her. The more days passed without her coming back, the less sure she felt about her being able to deal with whatever danger she had to face. She didn’t know anything about cloud people and what they were capable of, nor did Saia. Her only consolation was that the viss in her shard pulsed with vitality, at least during the day. She had hidden it in a small cavity in her statue’s stomach, under the one occupied by her sphere. It wasn’t wise to keep it so close, but she just couldn’t have it buried under a tree like the others.

She picked up the book from the pedestal and started reading in the low light of twilight. Not that the lack of proper illumination mattered, since she didn’t need to strain to see.

She turned the pages until she found the list of Dore’s predecessors. She saw the woman Saia had seen and pointed out, but she wasn’t the most recent one. The last Dore was a monk called Ludunus, a name that sounded strangely familiar.

She stopped to wonder for a bit, then kept reading, hoping the text would give her more clues. He had done researches on animals and was also an expert on anything related to viss. He'd been chosen because of his patience and rationality, even if he'd been the third choice at the trials after the first two candidates had refused.

“Help!”

The shout came from Rabam’s house. He was hiding under the kitchen’s table while a group of visibly strong people was trying to ram down the entrance. Some steps behind them, Liraira was observing the scene with crossed arms.

“Stop!” Aili shouted with her Koidan voice.

Everyone froze. Liraira was the first to recover.

“You didn't save Mili, so I hope you're not here to save this scum.”

“What are you doing?”

“He's living in Milvia's house!”

“Yes, because I reassigned it, since she didn't have children and all of her relatives already have a house.”

“I’m not mad about someone living in her house. I knew it would happen, I was prepared. But I don't want her ex-boyfriend to have it. I've told you how much of a piece of shit he is.”

Her voice raised until she was basically screaming.

Rabam retracted a bit into himself. Aili realized he wasn't hearing her side of the conversation, so she made sure to include him when she spoke again.

“You're confusing him with someone else.”

“No, I'm sure about that. You have no idea how many people told me that there were some movements inside, especially at late hours of the night. I didn't believe them, but then I saw that Mili's orange trees were still alive and nobody seemed to be watering them. I've hired some of my dad's workers to observe the house and they saw him return here two nights ago. They saw his face.”

Aili returned her focus to the quiet of the temple for the instant necessary to calm down. She hadn't looked toward Liraira’s house on purpose, for fear of having it become a habit. Among all the inhabitants, she was the one who most resembled a metaphorical slippery slope.

“Why does she think you were Milvia's ex-boyfriend?” she asked Rabam.

“I am.”

“What?”

He didn't elaborate, gaze lost in the general direction of the entrance.

“Why haven't you told me?”

“I don't know. Didn't want to think about it. I didn’t know you that well or how you would react.”

Aili started pacing on the pedestal.

“She thinks you abandoned Mili. She doesn't know that you were a monk.”

“She's right to be angry. If I'd been less selfish, I'd have left Mili as soon as I met her again after I was exiled. Maybe if she'd found someone else who could live with her, she'd still be alive.”

Aili wanted to address that self-loathing, but Liraira was still standing outside.

“Regardless of who he is, he's allowed to stay here,” she told her. “He's not a bad person.”

“I’m sorry to argue with you, but he's the worst crook that ever walked the nine villages. He only visited Mili until he got a job from my dad, then he was never seen again. And it's weird that he was renting a house and only came back now that this one is free. He could be involved in her death, for all we know.”

Rabam shrunk a bit more.

“That's enough,” Aili said, feeling his hurt in the way his viss moved. “The decision is final, so you can go home.”

Liraira crossed her arms.

“I won't. You'll have to force me, and I'll be back as soon as I can. I want him out of Milvia's house.”

“The sentinels might notice that something's going on,” Rabam pointed out, quietly as to not let the people outside hear his words. “Especially now that they're more alert than usual. And I don’t want to live here either.”

“There aren't many alternatives. Saia's house is out of the question and there aren’t other empty houses at the moment. I could build one, but that would require time and res…”

“Send me to prison.”

Aili stopped.

“What?”

“This way I can stay nearby. You can get me out at night. It's the last place the sentinels would think to check, and if they find me there, you could always tell them that you have captured me and not ruin your reputation completely.”

Aili considered his words.

“Are you sure? There’s…”

“I know,” he cut her off, then stood. “It’s the right decision.”

“You're not planning to get revenge behind my back, are you?”

He shook his head. Aili quickly checked his viss: he didn't seem to be lying, but he was certainly conflicted.

“I trust you,” Aili said, then louder: “He'll leave tonight. Go home, now.”

Liraira relaxed a bit, her rage slowly replaced by swelling grief. She gathered the workers who had helped her and started to retreat. Aili observed her to make sure she wasn't planning something else. She felt a weird mixture of grief and relief when she realized she wasn't attracted to her anymore. It was just an old crush, not due to her personality as much as her looks, to her chestnut hair and elegant neck worthy of a heron person...

She suddenly remembered who Ludunus was.

She retreated into the temple. He’d written a book, the ‘Treatise on Hereditary Traits’, and she’d read all of it. Maybe he wasn't the same person, but it was a particular name, the mention of ‘researches’ in his description was pretty telling, and the year of publication of the book was close to the creation of the last Dore.

For once, the idea of talking to him didn't seem that dreadful. She could have an interesting conversation, if she played her cards right.

She focused on the book of gods again, this time looking for the youngest Lorin. And young she was, at least for deity standards, her transformation happening barely fifty years ago. She'd been a helper, specifically an organizer of the debates and a chronicler. She took note of the most important events happening in the village, births and deaths as well as the topics of the debates and the most important discoveries. Her work led her to know first-hand what the major problems of the village were, and she was often the one to bring them up to the priors.

Aili started pacing on the pedestal. She got the sense of a person with a high sense of justice, who also trusted the monks and the priors enough to actively work with them, but not so much that she wouldn’t criticize them openly. She was also fairly young, which meant she still knew some of the elder monks living in the village.

She could leverage that. Or, more precisely, Zeles could.

She focused on Rabam's house again. He was sitting on the floor of the dining room, in a corner, chipping away pieces of wood from a thick branch. His eyes shifted up when Aili moved the stack of papers on top of the table.

“I need to send a new letter,” she told him. “Could you deliver it to Zeles before going…?”

She couldn't bring herself to say 'to prison.' It was so unfair.

“Of course,” he said, then returned to his art.

Aili started moving her viss around in quick configurations to nudge the pencil this way or that. The resulting calligraphy was bigger than her own, irregular like the one of a child, but at least the monks wouldn't see her statue write the letters and wonder who was receiving them.

Dear Zeles,

I have a plan to deal with Lorin before the monks ask her to attack you. You'll have to use all of your experience in speeches and what little good sense…

She scratched it out. She was still angry at him for rejecting the monks without even bothering to hide his identity from Suimer’s inhabitants, but it was still one of her only allies, not to mention the person who had watched over her during most of her life.

… and your good sense in order to convince her. First of all, exaggerate the aftermath of Saia's actions. She knew two of the current priors before they were invested with their roles and she should be of about Laius’s age, so it isn’t unlikely that she knows him too. She should believe they’re more divided than they seem.

She realized that Zeles couldn't know the abbot nor the other priors, so she added a brief explanation of their roles and general attitudes toward rules and tradition.

After Saia’s transformation into a goddess, the abbot wanted to let everyone who was bitten die to protect the village. Daira didn't agree and ultimately saved them by reactivating Saia. Tell her this and try to gauge her opinion about the situation, and on which side she would be on. If you're unsure, assume it's Daira’s.

Then tell her that the monks only want her to attack you because you were on Daira's or the abbot's side, depending on who she agrees with. We don't need her to be completely convinced or even on our side, but she should decide to wait until she knows more and not attack for the moment being. Her extreme sense of justice will make her hesitate a lot before taking a stance.

She reread the letter, wondering whether there was more to add. She didn't want to be too tough with him, but couldn’t afford what had happened the last time to be repeated.

You don't have to follow my plan if you don't want to. But whatever you do, please, I beg you, don't give me more problems. And yes, you being in danger is my problem, after everything Saia did to save you, how much she risked. I can’t let it go to waste.

She reread the last sentence, hoping it was enough. She closed the letter and left it on the table for Rabam to deliver, then observed the village from above, in search of problems that were under her control.