"It is the tragedy of our kind. No matter what we desire, we must leave the world to mortals and only act at a remove. The world is for them, and we must only inspire – never seek to control. Baelogi saw the suffering of life in the world below, sought to improve it, and fell. Soshall wanted equality for all and only realised what he had become when his hands were red with blood. Athe thought to prevent any more of us from being blackened by the lure of worship – and he was corrupted by power in turn."

Dei



A fire-rimmed portal opened up, disgorging the overlady along with the few minions who'd been lurking backstage as her dishonourable honour guard. The sky of Amstelredamme was filled with violet flame, forming a great anticyclone. A pillar of black light punched up into the sky, pushing open some kind of rift. Red lightning licked between the clouds. The fierce winds whipped the snow into every nook and cranny, and the mounds had acquired an oily residue.

"Welp," Maggat said, staring up at the sky. "That are a giant glowing spinny sky thing what are a rift in the world and no mistake."

"Oh yes," Maxy agreed. "I is giving it an eight out of ten, that are for sure. It have a proper sinister glow and all that."

Behind him, Scyl tried to work out how many eight and ten were, and gave up. "It no are the best I has seen before," he contributed. "Glowy sky things was better in the old days."

"Yes, this one no are having the spinning rubble or the big evil pokey thing at the bottom," Maggat agreed.

"Also it should be red," Char added.

"No, green!" Fettid countered, willing to make the point with her knife.

Louise shuddered. The sky was, indeed, very Evil and she had no time for the criticism of the minions as it was a real and present threat. However, an even realer and far more present problem was the fact that she was dressed completely inappropriately for a blizzard, especially one that could legitimately be called both malevolent and sinister. She tugged her cloak tighter around herself, and silently cursed the bravado that had led her to ask for a lower-than-usual neckline. She was getting snow down her front. And she really, really hoped that whatever hellish fabric Jessica had wrought these clothes from wasn't water absorbent, because the hem of her dress was trailing in the snow.

From now on, she was going to make sure she had her armour ready no matter where she went. No matter what she was intending to do there!

"Lou! Lou! Can you hear me?" Jessica's voice crackled in her ears.

"Yes," she blurted out. The air smelt like hot metal, and the screaming of the wind wasn't metaphorical. This was a bad place.

"Thank wickedness! I wasn't sure that I'd get interdimensional coverage! Don't worry about the roaming charges 'cause it's an emergency! What's happening?"

"There's a giant pillar of light and I'm pretty sure it's trying to break into the Abyss or something!" Louise shouted back.

"Oh, the ol' giant glowing sky rift shindig," Jessica said. "Sounds to me like Baelogi needs more dark power to complete her transformation! So she's tearing open a hole to the Abyss to get it! I recommend wrecking her shit!"

"Just generally, or…"

"I mean there's probably something she's using to anchor the gate. Go smash them and you'll probably be able to interrupt her ascension. There's some wicked news, though – if she can't become a full Dark Goddess even with having devoured Athe, then either both of them spent most of their power against each other, or Athe talked a big game but wasn't all that."

"Thanks," Louise said, a tiny ember of hope gleaming in her chest. Maybe she could do this. And she did happen to know several locations of importance to the Madame de Montespan – which was to say, places where the demon-possessed woman had been spending a lot of time in. Maybe that was where she had been preparing this.

"No probs! I'll try to get Catt and Henri and as many minions as I can gated through, but the portals are choked at the moment and we're way down the priority queue! You gotta do what you can with what you have!"

Louise set off through the snow. "I have an idea," she says. "Jessica, can you find out where the rift to the Abyss opens?"

"… you're not seriously considering sending them through that way? It's certain death!"

"Come now," Louise said, ice crunching underfoot. "When would mere certain death ever stop minions?"



Lady Magdalene peeked out through the shutters, up at the cursed sky. One hand rested on her swollen abdomen. This was not a very nurturing experience, she considered darkly. She wasn't due for a while, but the only… one of the ways that today could get any worse would be if she went into early labour on top of everything else.

"What are we going to do, Mag?" Jacqueline asked. She was hugging her youngest. "We've been in some bad places before when things have gone wrong with rituals, but I don't think anything has been as bad as this."

Magdalene sighed. "No, I don't think we have," she said. The candlelight cast long shadows over her face. "But we have survived some pretty hair-raising experiences."

"Like when Maria's scalp was possessed by a demon," Jacqueline said wisely.

"Among other cases, yes." Magdalene squared her shoulders. "And things are about to get even more dangerous."

"Oh my. Is a giant monster covered in scales and with lots of very big teeth coming for us?"

"Worse," Magdalene said darkly, glaring daggers down at the slight, dark-winged figure approaching. "It's Marzipan."

"Oh. Well, I'll make some tea for us. I think we're out of little biscuits, but I'll make do."

"No, I think we'll pretend we're not in."

Jacqueline sighed, slumping. "I do feel a bit sorry for her, you know. She's never had any friends since we kicked her out of the cult. It's not like the fact that she's a dreadful person would have stopped us from associating with her if we'd kept in touch." She paused. "After all, I like you and you're horrible and mean."

"Jacqueline, was that a catty comment?" Magdalene asked, pleasantly surprised. "Well done!"

A crackling hiss made itself known in her ear. "Hello?" It was the overlady. "Are you all right, Magdalene?"

Mag turned away, one finger going to her earring. "Yes. Where are you? Your voice is indistinct."

"I'm in Amstelredamme! The Madame de Montespan has—"

"Yes, yes, glowing sky portal, probably consumed a dark god, threat and or menace. I'm safe for the moment – I'm on holy ground. You?"

"I think I know how to stop her and close the sky rift," Louise huffed, short of breath. "I just need time."

Magdalene pinched the ridge of her nose. "You think? Or you know?" she asked. She was not overjoyed at the direction this conversation was taking.

"I know how to break into her townhouse and I know there's a hidden place in there warded from scrying that she's been spending a lot of time in," Louise said.

Damn it all. Magdalene could feel the bloodline curse squirming in her. A de la Vallière wanted something of her. She wanted to obey. She really did. The old Duke had been clever, because it didn't just force her to follow orders. She was compelled to want to make herself useful. And the worst thing was that it seemed like the only lead they had at the moment.

It better not be the curse talking. She'd haunt the heck out of Louise if it was nothing and got her killed.

"I might be able to distract her," she said reluctantly. "I'll keep her attention on me for a bit. But you're going to owe me the biggest favour for this."

The overlady was silent. "Don't do anything foolish and don't risk yourself unnecessarily," she commanded. "And don't die."

Magdalene breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you," she said, the direct order taking a weight off her mind. When it came down to it, there were much less considerate people she could have wound up serving. "You too." She glanced at Jacqueline, who had been waiting and obviously trying to listen in. "The overlady thinks she has something that can stop her. But she needs time."

Jacqueline hugged her child, bouncing them and down on her hip. "Oh my. I suppose we will all be wanting tea, then. And one for the dark goddess?"

"It can't hurt, I suppose."

"Should I poison it?" Jacqueline asked with the air of someone asking how strong the brew should be.

Magdalene stopped, and a smile which could only be described as de la Vallière-esque crept onto her features. "Strictly speaking, no," she said.



Louise took perhaps a little too much pleasure in sending the minions to break down the front door of Françoise-Athenais' townhouse. The ice-encrusted door made a very satisfying crunch as it caved in.

"Pillage, but anyone who burns anything without my express permission is getting killed permanently," she snapped, to cheers from the minions who were quite satisfied by those orders.

"Viva la revolution! Time to destroy!" Char bellowed, shoving over a grandfather clock.

Louise tuned out the noise of things breaking, and pondered. If she was a megalomaniacal villain conspiring to take over the city through treacherous and vile means, where would she keep her secret plans and magical anchors? Probably in a hidden basement, except… no, the water level in Amstelredamme was too high for that. How ridiculous. She wouldn't be able to keep anything there! It'd get wet!

Behind a false wall in her bedroom it was, then!

After some suitably cautious use of minions as trap detectors, Louise dramatically burst into the Madame de Montespan's chambers.

"Lot of frilly things here," Maxy said, with the expertise of a connoisseur. "Look at all them dresses hangin' up on women what aren't real waiting to be put on. They is called Manny Kins, you know. Named after the man who invented them. He was called Monsieur Kins."

"Ooo lar lar this are a lady's boo-dwah and there are no mistaking it," Fettid said, plundering herself an ornamental fan and putting it to immediate use. "Oi, overlady, this is well so-fish-tick-hated. Why don't you got one like this?"

"Shut up!" Louise reflexively responded, looking around with wide eyes. Oh. Oh. And she even had paintings that Louise liked. This was the sort of room she might have had normally in a year or two, once she'd gone to university. The sort of room that a proper young noblewoman might have had, with plenty of personal pleasures and a bed which – oh, to be so risqué! – was big enough for two. Even with minions present, this radiated taste and good manners. The best Louise's own bedroom in her fortress managed was the distinct feeling that the architecture had been designed by someone rather taller than the current occupant.

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. It wasn't like she was jealous. She just sometimes wanted clothing that didn't incorporate steel plating into the design. No, wait, she corrected herself. She wanted a life that meant that she didn't always have to wear clothing with steel plating for her own safety.

Oh well. She'd have time for complaining later, once she'd smashed in Montespan's teeth with her staff and then burned her stupid face off. Getting down low, she started tapping on the walls, listening for false panelling.

The minion stared at her in bemusement.

"Are she trying music?" Char asked Maxy.

"Nope."

"Well, that are at least making sense, because that are not how a revolutionary song goes."

"Maybe she are wanting something to listen to before she pulls the hidden lever in the bookcase what lower the chandelier what are a secret lift," Scyl pondered.

The overlady rose in a haughty and only slightly embarrassed manner, dusting herself off. "I was nearly right," she grumbled to herself, as she started yanking out books. She knew she'd found the right one when it dropped the chandelier onto Fettid's head, crushing her skull, and opened up a trapdoor above it. As Scyl got to work reviving the dead green, Louise examined the solid footplate of the chandelier.

"Find shiny things!" Maggat told her, hope in his voice.

"Let's see what's up here," she muttered, stepping onto it. "Now how do you make this wo-argh!"

"I is thinking it is prob'bly pressure," Maxy said, as Louise vanished skywards with a startled shriek.



Thunder rolled overhead. Baelogi's feet did not touch the ground. Suspended by the midnight-black wings that she had extruded from her host's body, she drifted towards the university hall. Still, the earth rebelled against her presence and the ground split where she passed. Snow flash-boiled into steam and a heat-haze hung around her.

Before her stood the Great Hall. She could feel the holy presence therein. Someone had sanctified the building, and done it to set Athe against her. It was a sign of her own dark magnificence that she had been ready for him to betray her, and had got her betrayal in first. The Madame de Montespan had been very useful there. One could work wonders with wards when one was waiting and prepared.

So she would find out who was responsible for this, then proceed from thereon.

That question was answered when the door swung open, revealing the pale faces of Magdalene's cult. Most of them looked nervous, like children caught doing something that they shouldn't have. "Old friends," Baelogi said, lips too-wide as she smiled.

The one exception crossed her arms, face impassive. She was heavily pregnant, but this didn't seem to be stopping her staring down a newly born dark goddess. "Dark greetings to you, Baelogi," Magdalene said. "And what brings you here this winter's evening?"

"So you know who I am?" she asked, mildly surprised at the impudence of a mortal in ruining her grand revelation.

"I have studied the lore of the Abyss and the dark pantheon. You know that," the woman said, squaring her jaw. "Your presence and your possession of Françoise-Athenais left certain subtle marks on the world that I could read. And a few less subtle marks."

Baelogi pursed her lips. "Well, well. You are an interesting little maggot. And an annoying one. I haven't forgiven you for cheating me."

"I didn't cheat you. I followed the letter of the contract exactly."

"You violated the spirit."

Magdalene rolled her eyes. "That only time the forces of the Abyss complain about that is when someone gets one up on them. You'd have done the same and worse to me if you'd been better at writing contracts and hadn't signed what I presented you with."

"So?"

"So what do you want, dark one?" Thunder boomed overhead.

"Oh. Well. Straight to the point, I see," Baelogi said. "Your worship, your souls and your service. I am no mere dark angel anymore. I am truly a dark goddess. I have devoured Athe and taken the full extent of his power for my own. Those who adore me shall receive blessings and shall transcend the feeble limits of their mortal form. Those who reject me shall become fodder for my great work." She stepped forwards, feeling the burning heat of the holy ground before her. "Love me and follow, or die."

"Would you care for some tea?"

"… I beg your pardon?" Baelogi blinked. Why had she said that?

"Some tea." Magdalene smiled. "We're having a hot drink in here, because it's cold." She accepted two cups from Jacqueline, and took a sip from one. "I'll levitate it out if you want it."

Baelogi glared at the cup offered, feeling its radiant glow on her arcane senses. "You made that tea with holy water," she snapped.

"Drat," Magdalene said with a shrug. "I had hoped that might work. Oh well." She took a long sip of it. "It actually tastes rather good."

"Of course it tastes good! It's made from holy water! How the hell can you handle that?"

"I'm a champion of the light and goodness, standing up to a servant of Evil," Magdalene said blandly. The strange light that surrounded the dark angel reflected off her glasses, leaving her eyes impossible to see. The rest of her face was wreathed in shadow.

"You literally summon demons and worship dark gods," Baelogi snapped, face-reddening. "You don't get to cower on blessed holy ground and claim you're on the side of Good!"

"Actually, I do," Magdalene said smugly. "I always make sure to go to repent my sins regularly. And you know very well that I'm very particular with the wording of demonic contracts. You have no claim on my soul, and neither does Athe – nor any other dark god or demon prince." She took another sip. "I'm the hero here, you know. I'm valiantly defending a holy place from the actions of a dark goddess. A few minor peccadillos in my past mean nothing compared to the righteousness of my current actions."

Baelogi grated her teeth, memories from Francoise-Athenais filling her head. This mortal maggot always had been Eleanore de la Vallière's crony, and the student had learned well from the master. "I will destroy you unless you kneel before me," she said flatly.

"No, you won't. I'm standing on holy ground. You have no hold on my soul. Your magic can't touch me. We literally just went over that. And on top of that, I'm drinking holy water," Magdalene said wearily. "Really, Baelogi, you should let Marzipan do the thinking for you. She's smarter than you are. She managed to get one over Eleanore, for goodness' sake. You're basically running on inertia here."

"Shut it!"

"No, seriously, how much of the plan was actually hers? Did your plan for your ascension require her aid? You might be a powerful dark angel with mastery over flesh, but I notice that very little of your portfolio requires intellect."

"Shut up!" Baelogi snapped, reddening. "Are you trying to anger me, mortal?"

"Actually, come to think of it, I believe I've seen you referred to as the 'blind watchmaker'. That's a bit poor of you. I don't think that means you're very good at your job."

"That's slander!" Baelogi fumed. "I'm not blind! Do you know how hard it is to assemble an eye correctly? So what if I made the retina the wrong way around in mammals? I fixed that when I made squid!"

Magdalene gestured with her cup. "I'm sorry, weren't you meant to be trying to get us to follow you? You just confessed to making mistakes. That's not very impressive, is it, ladies?"

"No, it isn't," the cult chorused dutifully.

"Indeed it isn't. So, dark one, what are you prepared to offer us?"

Baelogi tilted her head, letting strands of green hair fall in front of her face. Her nostrils flared and her lips pursed as she fought to control her irritation. And then a look of serenity crossed her face. "Oh, of course," she said, with saccharine sweetness. "My offer is simple. Serve me, and I will offer you ascension. Your mortal flesh will become as you wish. Every limit shall be transcended. Your flesh will never die, but shall grow forevermore. And the one who will be my most-favoured high priestess and partake of my mightiest gifts shall be the one who brings me the head of Lady Magdalene van Delft."

The dark goddess took great pleasure in the little gasp from the annoying mortal. "Somehow I feel disinclined to agree to your offer," she drawled.

"I'm not making it to you," Baelogi said, drawing on the memories from the tortured soul of the Madam de Montespan. Oh, why hadn't she thought to do this before? All petty cruelties and meaness that Magdalene indulged in were things to use against her. "Do you think anyone actually likes you? You're a petty control freak who's obsessed with having everything doing what you want. You pride yourself on how clever you are, and so you like making other people feel small." She leaned forwards. "It's sad, really. You're still a wailing little mortal child who trails in Eleanore de la Vallière's footsteps, trying to be like your childhood friend – but you'll never be as good as her and you know it. She's better than you at everything you do. You're always second-rate. You loved Jean-Jacques but he didn't pick you. In fact, no one actually likes you. You're just someone that other people put up with so they don't have to put up with the hassle of organising things.

"And the funniest thing is," she continued, leaning forwards, feeling the heat of the holy place on her face, "for all that you try to lead a dark cult, you're so scared of commitment that you pass up power time and time again – and for what? So you can keep hold of a soul you don't even use? You could have real magical talent – just like everyone here – but not only do you hold yourself back, but you hold them back too. You're weak. A weak, scared little mortal too afraid to reach out for the power to break the chains on you." She smiled. "You're not getting out of this building alive. The only question is whether you'll drag everyone else down with you."

"Was that supposed to upset me?" Magdalene said, affecting a yawn. "You still can't get in here and—" She gasped in sudden pain and shock, face turning even more pale than usual. Staggering, Magdalene sagged and collapsed, a knife protruding from her back.

"And it looks like someone is getting a start on their application for the high priestess position!" Baelogi said wickedly. "Nicely done."



Louise was quite sure that this wasn't a safe way to get into a hidden attic. That chandelier-lift was clearly calibrated for someone heavier than she was. That thought cheered her up slightly, as she scrabbled around and found a candle. She lit it with an acrid pink flame.

"I'm fine up here," she called down to the minions, before they set the building on fire trying to rescue her or something similarly asinine. "Don't destroy anything down there unless I tell you to!"

"Oi, overlady, can me an' the girls go loot some pretty girly stuff?" Fettid responded.

"… if you wish," Louise decided. It would at least keep them out of her hair while she looked for clues. The attic was spacious and the candle didn't illuminate it all. Pacing down the space, blackboards and working space and alchemy tables came into view. The Madam de Montespan – or possibly Baelogi – was working on something. Something big and fleshy and gross. Down the end of the room was an elaborate Brimiric wedding dress and mantle, the centre of what looked like a shrine to that dog Wardes. However, what caught her attention was the working desk, with the heavily bookmarked notebook that had clearly seen heavy use.

"That seems like as good a place to begin as anywhere," Louise muttered to herself.

Just from the first few pages, she could tell that this was a tome on warding that was beyond her. She was good at magic, but this was something else.

She glanced down at the gauntlet on her left hand. "I don't suppose you have any suggestions?" she tried.

The metallic glove remained sinisterly silent.

So instead she did it the harder way. In the piercing cold of the draft attic, Louise methodically worked her way through the notebook until she found mention of Athe's name. It was made easier by how the handwriting changed midway through. Well, that and how Baelogi started writing in the Dark Tongue. That was a strong hint as to when she had taken control.

"Oh! Is that how she did it?" Louise whispered. It must have been very dangerous. Baelogi wouldn't have had a hope of success without knowledge she'd taken from Françoise-Athenais, and she likely didn't fully understand it herself. It was all linked to the biological abomination she was building in the Theology department. All of it. The rift, how she had been able to trap Athe, everything. She was building something, a vessel for the power made from the foetus of an angel.

She swallowed. And it implied that she was the mother and the father was… yuck. Yuck. She wasn't going to think of that.

But she now had the information she needed. She had Baelogi's weakness. She had the place she needed to be. She could stop the newborn dark goddess.

And she had something else.

Louise looked at the wedding dress and smiled a deeply, deeply unpleasant smile.

"Oh, Fettid," she called down to the minions. "Come up here, would you? I have something very, very special for you to wear."



Wheezing in pain, Magdalene tried to pull herself out of the slushy snow that surrounded the entry way. Bright red blood pooled around her, staining the white. Twisting, she looked up at the robed figure behind her. "Maria," she gasped, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. "The fuck?"

"Nothing personal," said Maria de Anoun, smirking as she stared down. She paused. "Wait, no, it's very personal. You've been a mean vindictive bitch since we were at school. You've belittled me, you've called me a fool, and you've stood in the way of getting real power. When we could have had some proper demonic investment, you've kept us taking only scraps." She pulled down her hood, and began to unfasten her dress. "My goddess! Baelogi! Take my body! Change it as you will! I will be your highest of priestesses, your chosen one!"

"Have you completely lost your mind?"

"I didn't become a cultist of dark gods to pass over demonic power," Maria snapped. "You're so scared of losing anything that we never gain anything worthwhile! Well, no more!"

"She has the right idea," Baelogi said, lips twisted in smug satisfaction. "Oh, we will get on so well. I do love followers who let me express my creativity truly in their form. How do you feel about poison spurs? Oh, and perhaps a duck-like bill – and laying eggs?"

Maria paused, suddenly looking a lot less eager. "Well, uh…"

"Um. Excuse me, Maria," said Jacqueline. "I have a suggestion."

"What is it?" Maria asked, half turning and meeting a silver candlestick coming the other way.

She went down like a poleaxed cow.

"Ooops," Jacqueline said, not sounding very sorry at all as she lowered her candlestick. "I hope I didn't hit her too too hard."

There was nervous laughter from the other cultists. "I'm sure your hand just slipped," one of them suggested.

"Silly Jacqui, so clumsy."

"Oh, no, I deliberately clubbed her over the head with a candlestick," Jacqueline said, sounding mightily offended. "I might be a bit dim sometimes, but I'm not stupid enough to offer myself to Baelogi. You know she has a thing about growing monsters inside people before they burst out? It's frightfully uncouth."

"Make one black-carapaced demon-spawn burst out of someone's chest, and everyone assumes that's all you do!" the newborn dark goddess protested. "I did that once!"

"Liar," Magdalene said weakly, from her position down on the ground. "I know about the mutilated corpses showing up around the university."

"Well, once this week. That's beside the point. Stop quibbling over petty details!"

"That is not a petty detail."

"Does anyone else feel like taking the offer?" Jacqueline asked, holding the candlestick menacingly.

"Well," began one of the women awkwardly.

Jacqueline clubbed her unconscious too. "Right!" she snapped, in full maternal mode. She huffed a stray lock of blonde hair out of the way. "Anyone else? I can do this all night! I've got a heavy candlestick and I'm not afraid to use it. And it's made of silver! I don't know if that'll do anything extra, but do you want to find out?"

The other women shook their heads quickly.

"In that case, get Magdalene inside and Annalise, start the healing. And then we are going to sing songs to honour Brimir and the Lord!" Jacqueline van Rien stared down the dark goddess outside with the general attitude of a mongoose confronting a basilisk. That was to say that while she was willing to make a go of it, she would prefer that the giant snake not be a supernatural monster that was rather out of her metaphysical weight category. "Just try to get in! Just try!"

"Oh, I will. And not one of you will be spared. Not a single one!" Baelogi snapped. "Cockroaches and other insects will tell stories of your fate to their offspring to scare them! I'll make sure of it!"

Jacqueline slammed the door in her face, and then slumped down, shaking.

"What're we going to do, Jacqui," Elise asked, hands clasped to her chest. "I don't know… that's a dark goddess out there! And she says she's going to horribly kill all of us!"

Swallowing, Jacqueline straightened up. "This isn't the first dark deity that's threatened us," she said, with more bravery than she felt. "So what we're going to do is make sure that Mag survives and can talk to us! She's much better at this kind of thing than me. She might know about some weakness or whether we can sell our souls to the Forces of Light or summon an angel or something." She nodded. "And pray to Brimir that the overlady comes through."

"… will Brimir really help an overlady?"

"The Church says that the Lord works in mysterious ways," Jacqueline said, with a faith born of desperation. "And it can't hurt."

"Well, maybe he decides to smite her and us as well—"

"Fine, it might hurt. But I think we're quite out of options here." She looked out one of the high windows of the Great Hall, up at the purple-wreathed sky. "Barring a sudden band of heroes showing up, the overlady is the only chance we have."