"Well," Skelly said cheerfully, "there are no beds anymore, but we do have a hot bath!"
I stared at him. A hot bath? Here? In this overgrown swamp cathedral that had been abandoned for decades? That had to be a lie. Another trick. Another thing trying to waste my time or kill me or both.
But also... I'd kill for a hot bath. Actually kill someone.
"Where is this bath?" I asked.
"Oh, it's right through there! In the—"
"If you're lying to me," I interrupted, raising a pistol, "I'm going to shoot you. For real this time. Dead. Well, more dead."
"I'm not lying!"
"But if you're telling the truth..." I lowered the gun slightly. "I will be your best friend."
"Really?" he asked, excited.
"Really."
"Oh wonderful! Follow me!"
So I followed him up the stairs and down a side corridor, through a doorway into what must have once been someone's quarters. The room was in rough shape—cracked walls, missing floorboards, everything covered in a layer of grime and moss. But in the corner was a door, still hanging on its hinges.
Skelly pushed it open. "The bath!"
Inside was a small en suite. The walls were stained with water damage and mildew, the mirror was cracked, and in the center sat a marble tub carved from a single block of white stone. The surface was dusty and streaked with moss.
I stared at it. Skelly had lied. Or maybe he hadn’t, but this was disgusting. There was no way I was getting in this thing. There wasn’t enough hot water in the world to make me get in that atrocity. It would probably even make me dirtier than I already was—and that was saying something.
"If you put your hand here," Skelly said, pointing to a flat stone slab set into the wall with a rune carved into it, "the bath will magically fill with water at the perfect temperature."
He reached out and pressed against the stone. The bath gave a faint hum and the moss dissolved, and the dust vanished. Water began pouring into the tub. Clean water, warm water. Steam rose from the surface.
No way. Was I dreaming? Had the swamp finally claimed my sanity?
"Now, about your questions—" Skelly began.
"Out," I said.
"But—"
"Everyone. Oouut! Now."
Vasil hopped toward the door. Phisto was already gone. Skelly hesitated, then shuffled out, closing the door behind him.
I stood there, watching the tub fill, and felt tears prick at my eyes. Actual tears of joy. The water was perfect. It wasn’t filthy swamp water, it was actual water water.
I stripped off my tunic and sandals, both caked in filth. It hit me then just how disgusting I’d become—mud, blood, swamp water, whatever that black stuff was. Everything smelled like rot and sweat and blood.
The water was steaming, inviting. I stepped in slowly, expecting the warmth to sting, but it didn’t. It was exactly like Skelly had said it would be: perfect. My shoulders sank beneath the surface, the heat easing every sore muscle. For the first time since leaving Graecia, I let myself breathe.
I closed my eyes and let the sound of the water swallow the world until everything around me dissolved.
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“Thank you, Mēnē,” I whispered. “Thank you for finally rewarding my patience.”
"Ah yes, your famous patience." The voice was barely above a whisper, but somehow perfectly clear, feminine, calm, and just a little amused.
I shot upright in the tub, water sloshing everywhere, arms crossing over my chest. "MēNē?!"
"Who else?"
"I'm—I'm naked!"
"Aren’t you all naked in the eyes of the gods?"
I sank lower into the water, face burning. "Are you—are you mocking me?"
"Would the goddess of silence waste her breath on mockery?" Mēnē said.
Wait. Was she serious? She sounded serious. But also... not? Did gods have sarcasm? Could they be sarcastic? Was I being tested?
"Uh... maybe?"
She laughed softly. "It's been a long time since one of my own has caused so much trouble in such a short amount of time."
I raised my finger. “I can explain!”
“No need,” Mēnē said. “I’ve seen everything.”
I immediately covered myself again.
Was that supposed to be reassuring? Because it didn’t sound reassuring. “Everything” covered a lot of ground. What exactly qualified as everything? Every bath I’ve ever taken? Every time I'd gotten dressed? That one time I licked that sacred gem? Did she see me licking all the other gems as well?
Or was she talking about the trouble that I definitely didn’t cause but somehow got blamed for? If she’d seen that, then she knew I was innocent. Mostly innocent.
I decided to play it cool. “Oh thank Mēnē… you. So you know I’m innocent.”
She laughed again. “Mostly innocent.”
Shit.
"Hecate, I understand you've been through a lot. But this is only the beginning. You're doing well so far."
"I am?"
"You're alive, aren't you? That's more than most could manage in your situation." There was a pause. "Ambelios is also watching. He's quite interested to see what you'll do with the class we made for you."
I sat up straighter, forgetting for a moment that I was naked. "Wait. You made [Gunwitch] for me?"
"It seemed appropriate."
"I… don't know what to say."
"You don’t have to say anything, you just have to do."
"Right. Any words of advice?"
"You could start by trusting the frog. His ambitions align with yours, and he is who he claims to be. You'll need allies, Hecate. You won't survive this alone."
I swallowed. "Can you tell my mother I'm alive?"
"She already knows."
Then she was gone, and I was left alone in the perfectly temperatured water.
I exhaled and took a moment to reflect on what had just happened.
So Mēnē herself just talked to me for the first time ever. To tell me she was watching… over me? Ambelios too. That was at least reassuring. And also somewhat terrifying. If Mēnē felt the need to tell me to trust Vasil, she probably wanted me to hurry up. Which meant my time was running out faster than I'd thought, or Vasil was right and the entire country was mobilizing against me. Probably both.
So: get stronger, get allies.
If I was going to be staying here, I should have Skelly show me around. He clearly knew the place. Should probably learn more about him as well. I was already making allies—Vasil, and now Skelly. Things were going well. Sort of.
First priority: understand the place I was in. The cathedral, the magic, what resources were available.
Second priority: go out, kill things, get stronger, pick up more allies.
Simple enough.
I sank deeper into the water, letting myself relax again. The warmth seeped into my bones, washing away days of swamp filth. I closed my eyes and reveled in the majestic tub. I should probably convince Skelly to fix this room up, and claim it for myself. Since this was my cathedral now I should have the room with the working bath.
Actually, there was one more thing I could check: my skills. Specifically, the upgrade system, since I did have a skill upgrade point available. Would I be able to choose which god I gave the offering to to upgrade my skills? Would it depend on the skill, with the offering either going to Mēnē or Ambelios? If my class had been made by both of them, did that mean I had two offering slots for one skill? Now that would be crazy.
I pulled up my skill list and opened [Clean Entry].
[Clean Entry]
Available upgrade slots:
-
Mēnē: open
-
Ambelios: open
I stared at the options. So I could choose either, or both? Would that cost two upgrade points? What if I had two offerings and offered them at the same time? Would it still count as one upgrade or two?
[If two offerings are presented simultaneously, the cost is one upgrade point. If offered separately, each offering consumes one point.]
I felt myself getting giddy. This was good. This was very, very good.
Third priority: find things worth offering to Mēnē and Ambelios.
If I could use two offerings every time I upgraded a skill, I’d probably outscale anyone with a single patron. Menekrates was so fucking dead. And all these Church chumps too. When I found some worthy offerings, of course.
I finished washing, reluctantly climbed out of the bath, and looked around for something to dry off with. Nothing. Why had I assumed there’d be something, though?
I rinsed my clothes in the tub. They were cleaner now, but still ruined. I needed new ones anyway. The chiton and sandals made me stand out too much here. Silesia had its own style, and I should probably blend in to make myself less of a target than I already was.
That went on the priority list too.
I grabbed my wet clothes and pulled them back on. They felt awful, but less awful than before. Small victories.
I opened the door. Time to see what else this cathedral had to offer.
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