The next visitors to the inn came by mail.

There wasn't much of a mail system in that part of the world. It could hardly be called a system at all - just a sturdy delivery wagon that made a circuit from Binan to a few other nearby towns and back, delivering letters, parcels, and the occasional traveler. It wasn't the fastest way to get a message from here to there, but for sending casual letters and ordering special purchases from the larger towns, it was cheaper than a special messenger and just as reliable. Delivering people was less common, but it happened occasionally. Atsushi, therefore, was barely surprised at all when the mail wagon paused outside his new temple and let out two young men.

"Hey, Arima," he called, "are these more of your friends?"

Arima, who had been helping him clean up after the carpenters' lunch break, looked out the window and smiled.

"Why, yes," he said. "I do believe they are."

He abandoned his dishrag and started for the front door, and Atsushi, deciding dishes could wait, went invisible and followed him. Outside, one of the newcomers was unloading their luggage while the other counted out coins to pay the driver. Both the young men looked to be about the same age as Atsushi and Arima - about twenty-five, give or take a year or two. One of them was a redhead with a soft, gentle face. The other wore glasses and had a sharp featured, haughty expression. He was dressed in the same sort of gold-trimmed black robes that Arima wore. Atsushi, who had spent enough time around merchants to have a good idea of quality fabric and good tailoring, surmised from this man's garments that whatever temple he served was probably an important one. The other had the look of a moderately well-to-do shopkeeper rather than a priest, but it was clear from the way the two interacted that they'd been traveling together and were on intimate terms with one another.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise," said Arima, approaching the two of them.

The robed one bowed. "Greetings, Holiness."

Arima bowed back - not so deeply as his cohort had, but enough to show respect. "It's good to see you again, Itsumo. I hope you and your husband are both well?"

"Very well, thank you," said the man called Itsumo.

The other young man put himself forward, and Arima turned to shake his hand.

"Hi, Arima. We heard you were in a bind, so we thought we'd come see what we could do to help."

"Thank you, Shou. The truth is, we certainly could use your help," Arima replied. "But we can discuss that in more detail after you're both settled inside. First I want to hear how things have been going with you. The temple prospers, I hope? And your shop? How are your little girls?"

Shou beamed. "Getting cuter every day. Hana helps me in the shop, and Junko's taken to temple life like a duck to water. They're with my ma now, getting spoiled rotten, probably. She was so excited when she heard we'd decided to adopt..."

He continued to chatter about such small homely things while he helped carry the luggage inside. Itsumo and Arima had a small, polite argument about whether or not Arima should be allowed to help carry it in as well, but in the end, it all got moved up to one of the larger empty bedrooms. While they were sorting that out, Kinshiro slipped in through the back to fill Atsushi in on the details.

"I had a feeling those two were going to show up," he remarked, as he leaned against the wall next to Atsushi.

"Who are they?" Atsushi asked.

"Ichiban and Shou Itsumo," said Kinshiro. "Ichiban is the chief priest of one of my temples. He and his husband are both good friends of Arima's - in fact, they met through him. Arima and Shou were traveling together and stopped at the temple for a while, and Shou never left. A bit of a collaboration between Vesta and me," he added with a small smile. "Poor Ichiban had his heart so set on becoming high priest someday, and I knew that wasn't going to happen. I thought it would be good to find something else that might make him happy."

Atsushi laughed. "And they say you needed me to soften you up. You're really sentimental at heart, aren't you?"

"Hmph," said Kinshiro. "I am absolutely fair. Ichiban was a faithful priest and a hard worker, and he deserved some form of compensation."

"I'm not criticizing you," said Atsushi, still laughing. "No need to get defensive."

Their friendly squabble was interrupted by Arima and his friends coming back down the stairs. The three of them settled around one of the tables to begin comparing notes.

"So, what is this problem you said you were having?" Itsumo asked. "Your message was rather vague."

"The matter is simply this," said Arima. "Our lord Aruite has taken a consort - Epinard, the god of mercy." He paused a moment while his companions expressed their surprise. "This is, of course, very good news, but the fact of the matter is that Epinard has claimed this particular location as the site of his first temple. He has a certain sentimental attachment to it, you see. The problem is that the mayor of this town is attempting to seize it through unlawful means."

"That can't be allowed," said Itsumo firmly. "Even if this hadn't been claimed as a holy site, we can't allow that sort of underhanded dealing."

"My sentiments exactly," said Arima. "Unfortunately, the mayor isn't listening to me when I say that now is the time to back off before the gods decide to get involved personally."

"Why wouldn't he listen to you?" asked Shou. "I mean, you're the high priest. You're practically more important than the king."

"It's amazing," said Arima, "what a man can make himself believe when to do otherwise would mean admitting he's in the wrong. In this case, he's claiming that any man can put on a robe and rattle off a few important-sounding words and claim he's a priest. There's no easy way for him to know for certain that I am who I say I am, short of going to Seven Pillars himself and asking at the temple. That's one reason I've been asking help from people who know me - people like you and Lord Kurotori who know me well and can back me up when I say I am who I say I am. That's aside from the fact that you all have your own particular skills. Kurotori is nobility, and he can throw money around like midwinter sweets. You, Itsumo, have at least one qualification that I lack."

Itsumo looked dubious. "And what is that?"

"Force of personality," said Arima. "I know my own strengths and weaknesses. I'm good at smiling and pretending not to understand what's going on while I get my plans arranged and ready to unfold, but I'm not good at impressing people. I draw people into the fold by being down-to-earth and approachable and making people feel welcome, and there's a time and place for that. But the gods are also awesome and terrifying at times, and people need to be reminded of that from time to time as well. That's your strength."

"I see," said Itsumo slowly. "So what you're saying is you want me to put the fear of Aurite into this mayor character?"

"That's exactly what I want," said Arima.

Itsumo was still for a moment. Then, gradually, he smiled. "I think I can do that."

"You'll do great," said Shou, smiling proudly at him. "When you go into one of your plunge-into-the-Abyss sin and damnation speeches, you can even give me the chills, and I know you."

Itsumo seemed to take this as a compliment. The two of them shared a smile, and Arima looked on benignly, rather like a proud parent.

"I value your testimony too, you know," he said. "Itsumo may be an important man, but you've known me longer than he has and can give a fuller account of my character."

"You mean I can tell anyone who asks about the time you fought off an entire band of heavily armed men to rescue me? Yeah, I can do that," said Shou. "And I can help out with the building and things. I'm no carpenter, but I can use a hammer as well as anybody if someone tells me where to put the nails."

"We can use all the help we can get," said Arima. "This is going to be a very big job, I'm sure."

"We can stay here as long as you need us," Itsumo assured him. "Although I have no doubt we'll be able to sort out your problems with the mayor fairly quickly. I don't think I flatter myself when I say I have some skill at dealing with these types."

Shou rested a hand on his shoulder. "There's no need to hurry, anyway. The kids will be fine with their grandparents for a while, and your trainees have the temple in hand. We haven't had a real vacation since our honeymoon. We ought to take advantage of this."

Itsumo's fair cheeks colored slightly. "We wouldn't want to impose on our hosts' hospitality."

"There is no imposition," Arima assured them both. "Please stay as long as you both like."

Both men looked reassured at this, and Atsushi couldn't help smiling.

"Cute couple," he observed, as Arima showed them both outside to have a look at the construction.

"I suppose so," said Kinshiro, with an air that suggested he had really never given any thought to whether they were cute or not. "It's good that they're here, anyway. Arima's right - we can use help, if we aren't going to step in and miracle this mess away. We might have to do that anyway."

"Have you figured out where that power you sensed was coming from?" Atsushi asked.

Kinshiro nodded. "It was as I thought - one of the minor local gods has gotten involved. Your own personal town guardian, in fact. His name is Uriya." Kinshiro frowned. "And he isn't the sort I'd usually expect to cause trouble. He's more the kind who spends an hour arguing with himself over what he wants for dinner. He doesn't even interact with the locals very often. I don't know why he's suddenly getting mixed up in things now."

"Maybe it's just a weird coincidence," Atsushi suggested.

"It can't be," said Kinshiro. "Not entirely. He's a town guardian - he'd have to know we're here. He was watching us. No, somebody's up to something, and I'd give a great deal to know what."

"Should we go confront him, do you think?" asked Atsushi uneasily. Judging mortals was hard enough. He wasn't certain he wanted to make his life doubly complicated by picking a fight with another god.

Kinshiro frowned. "I'm not sure. We could try, but I expect he'd probably just retreat to his private space and refuse to talk to us. Even I can't force him out if he does that, not without a better reason that I've got. There's no proof yet that he's actually done anything wrong."

"He's helping them take the Cloverleaf away," Atsushi pointed out.

"Maybe," said Kinshiro. "Or maybe he only gave that boy something to give him more confidence. We don't know. We need more information."

"Maybe I can get it," said Atsushi.

Kinshiro looked at him curiously. "How do you mean?"

"Well, I'm not doing much here besides cooking," said Atsushi, "and you and Arima can do that at a pinch, or get some of the neighbors to pitch in. I can't show my face around here because everyone thinks I'm dead, and even if I disguise myself, people are going to wonder where I came from. What I can do is get out and listen to people. I've lived here all my life. I know where all the gossips are. They'll know what Enkaku has been up to lately. If he's been acting weird, they'll say something. That might give us a clue. I could even hang around his house and watch him myself for a while."

"It couldn't hurt," Kinshiro agreed. "As a last resort, we could try reading his mind, but that's not something we're supposed to do without a good reason. It's a violation of privacy otherwise."

Atsushi nodded. "Don't worry. I think I can probably find out at least something without going that far."

"Good," said Kinshiro. "Then I'll trust you to do what you can." He smiled a little. "Just don't stay out all night. You don't want to miss your first worship service."

Atsushi laughed. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Good luck, then," said Kinshiro. He smiled a little. "If you're going to be out snooping, I suppose I had better start getting dinner ready."

"I'll be back in time to help you finish up," Atsushi promised.

Then he disappeared, leaving the familiar confines of his inn for more varied surroundings. In a way, it was something of a relief. Having barely left the building for a couple of days, it was nice to remember how freely he could move now that he was a god. The first few days of his marriage, he and Kinshiro had been to see a play in the Sunlit Isles, gone skating on a pond in the Eternal Mountains, and eaten dinner in the Jade Empire, all in the same day. There was so much world out there that he'd never dreamed he'd have a chance to see, places he'd never even heard of before Kinshiro and his other new friends had shown them to him.

I couldn't stay here forever - not now that I know how much else there is to see in the world, he thought. But that didn't mean he didn't still love the Cloverleaf, and he was going to protect it no matter what.

Well, then, better get to work, he told himself, and slipped into the marketplace.


One of the things priests did was visit people. There was, in fact, an entire class of wandering priests who did nothing but go from place to place, visiting the isolated farmhouses and the towns too small to have temples and priests of their own. Even an important priest in a large town like the one where Itsumo served often paid visits to his congregation to address their individual concerns, offer support, and generally make it known that he was available if they needed him. He'd been doing that a lot more since he got married. Part of that was because his parishioners were curious about his new husband, and part of it was that Shou was still shy around new people and dealt with them better when he met them two or three at a time, rather than having to cope with the entire congregation at once. It had helped, too. Attendance had gone up considerably when the people of the city had begun to see him as not an unapproachable figure in a pulpit, but of a man who adored his husband and doted on his two children.

He wasn't too thrilled about making this particular visit, though. Still, it was necessary, so he forced himself to be patient and endure. At least he had never lost his trick of making himself seem unemotional and detached no matter what he was feeling.

Across from him, the mayor took a sip of his tea and dabbed his lips rather ostentatiously with a napkin.

"So, you're from Whitestone," he said. "I believe I heard your father preach once, while I was visiting an acquaintance there. He was a formidable presence. Now that I think of it, I can see the resemblance between you."

Itsumo somewhat doubted anyone would be able to discern a resemblance between anyone and a man they had probably only seen briefly and at a distance. He said mildly, "I'm doing my best to uphold his traditions."

"As is right and proper for a priest of law and order," Mayor Sousa agreed. "And on that note, there is a matter on those lines I would like to talk to you about."

"I am always available to consult on matters pertaining to our lord Aurite," said Itsusmo mildly.

"Well, this is more of a tangential matter," said Sousa. "I suppose you know by now that there is a man staying at the Cloverleaf Inn who claims to be the high priest of Aurite."

"Arima? Yes, he's a friend of mine," said Itsumo.

He was not surprised to see the mayor's face fall. "Oh... really?"

"Of course," said Itsusmo. "My husband and I have known him for years."

"Ah."

Itsusmo saw the mayor's face twist slightly at the mention of a husband, and even though his expression never changed, he gritted his teeth just a little. Most of the world managed to be tolerant of the idea of people marrying in various gender combinations. After all, the prevailing opinion went, the gods themselves didn't seem to be bothered by that sort of thing. They didn't hold themselves to any sort of strict gender binary. The goddess of cooking, for example, spent at least half her time as the god of cooking, and the goddess of healing was sometimes also the god of medicine, maintaining that it was impossible to truly minister to human needs without understanding all the variations their bodies could take. There were some gods who didn't fit neatly into any sort of category. There was a reason why they preferred the word "consort" over gender specific words like "husband" or "wife". Even so, there were humans who still objected to the idea of, for example, a man marrying another man. They argued that of course the gods could do whatever they wanted, but they were gods, not human beings. They were under no pressure to have children and continue a family line because they were immortal. Humans were not expected to follow their example.

Itsumo found this attitude both reprehensible and ridiculous.

"Arima is the one who introduced us, as a matter of fact," he went on. "He officiated at our wedding."

"So what you're saying," said Sousa, grasping at the point that was most relevant to him, "is that this man really is the high priest he claims to be?"

Itsusmo arched an eyebrow and adjusted his glasses in the manner he had long ago learned tended to make people feel about an inch tall.

"Was there ever any doubt?" he asked.

"Well, ah," said Sousa, looking flustered, "you know how it is. A strange man shows up out of nowhere with nothing to prove his credentials..."

"I see," said Itsumo. "And you assumed that Lord Aurite, enforcer of law and order, would be perfectly content to let this man not only misuse his name, but to impersonate his most favored servant?"

The mayor's cheeks went red. "I wouldn't exactly put it like that..."

"Do you really have that little faith in the gods?" Itsusmo continued, as if he hadn't heard. "Or did you think to take matters into your own hands - that you could handle it better than they could?"

"I was only trying to do my job," the mayor huffed. "It's my place to keep cheats and vagabonds from taking advantage of my citizens."

"Well, now you know he is neither," said Itsumo. "I've known him for something like five years. He's always been willing to advise me in times of confusion. I've attended services under his leadership. When my daughter is old enough, I hope to send her to serve as an initiate with him. His validity as high priest was confirmed to me by Aurite himself. Anything he says in his role as priest should be taken as the word of Aurite. Do you understand?"

"Well, yes," said Sousa, "but how do I know when he's speaking in his role as high priest?"

"Generally speaking, when he is talking about matters pertaining to Aurite and his laws," said Itsumo. "And that includes matters pertaining to his new consort. If he says the old inn is sacred ground, then it is. My advice to you is not to interfere. Find your son some other job. Even better, let your son find his own job. He's a man - he should be living for himself, not letting you decide his life for him."

Mayor Sousa's face had gone purple with suppressed anger and embarrassment.

"I thank you for your advice," he said stiffly. "I'll take it under consideration."

"See that you do," said Itsumo. His expression became even more serious than usual. "Don't think the gods aren't paying attention to you. This may be your last warning. Aurite is a fair god, but not always a kind one. Stop what you're doing, ask for forgiveness, and find something else to spend your time on. Otherwise, you may find yourself explaining your actions to Aruite personally."

"Allow me to show you to the door," said Sousa.

Itsusmo allowed himself to be shown. He judged that he had done his duty and there wasn't much more he could accomplish there. Instead, he bid the most polite goodbye he could muster and started back the way he had come.

"Some people," he mused, "just don't listen."

Meanwhile, deeper inside the house, Enkaku was talking to the cook regarding dinner. He had just discovered that the night's main dish would be a kind of souffle which his mother particularly liked and which he'd always considered bland and unappetizing. He was attempting to persuade the cook to add a little something extra to the meal, something he would actually want to eat. The cook, who knew his job well, was protesting that the master of the house would object to what he considered a waste of food. Enkaku pointed out - quite reasonably, he thought - that if he wasn't going to eat the souffle either, that would be a waste too. Emboldened, he went on to point out that food had been wasted for years because people kept telling him not to eat the things he wanted to eat and serving things he didn't want to eat. He thought he was making a good argument in his favor, but the cook was adamant.

I will be so glad when this is over and I never have to put up with this again, he thought. He toyed with his ring. All he needed was the right opening...

He didn't get it. Before he could even open his mouth, there was the sound of a door being flung open, and he turned to see his father burst into the room. The cook took one look at him, gave a little yelp, and went scurrying back up the passage. Judging by the look on his father's face, Enkaku thought the cook had the right idea. He turned and began trying to edge away.

"Oh, no you don't," his father snapped. He seized Enkaku by one arm and dragged him back to face him. "I want to have some words with you."

"Let me go!" Enkaku protested.

"Not until we have a talk," said his father. "Do you have any idea how much you've embarrassed me today?"

"What did I do?" Enkaku asked. "I didn't do anything!"

"You were the one who started threatening to have people put in jail," his father snapped. "I didn't tell you to do that - you came up with that on your own. Now I have some very important people angry at me and it's all your fault. What made you think that was a good idea?"

"I don't... I didn't... I just did what you told me to do!" Enkaku stammered.

"Don't you try to blame this on me!" his father bellowed. "That was your idea and yours alone. Now you're going to take the punishment for it."

"No!" Enkaku protested. "I did what you wanted me to do! You told me to do whatever it took to get them out of the inn and I did. You can't blame me now that it didn't work like you thought."

"If you had put more thought into what you were doing..." his father bellowed.

The words poured over him. Enkaku cringed, wishing he could sink into the wallpaper and disappear. It was always like this. No matter what he did, it was never right, never enough. His mind went blank under the onslaught of words.

I have to get out of here. I have to make it stop. I can't stand this much longer...

Automatically, his hand moved to touch the green ring. If he could just get a word in edgewise...

But it was already too late. His father, stopping to take a breath, had glanced down and caught that furtive movement. He snatched at Enkaku's hand.

"What is this ring?" he asked. "Where did you get it?"

"I, uh... I bought it," Enkaku stammered.

"Nonsense," said his father, and Enkaku wished he could work up the nerve to hit him. "No shop here in town ever had anything like this, and even if they did, you wouldn't have had the money for it. I saw you reach for it when you were arguing with the cook. Now you're reaching for it again. Why?"

"It's just... it's just a habit," Enkaku managed. "I just fiddle with it when I'm nervous, that's all."

"Don't you dare tell lies to me," his father snapped. "You've been acting strangely this last day or so - getting cocky and full of yourself. Something has changed, and it has something to do with this ring, am I right? The truth, now, or it will be the worse for you."

Enkaku's eyes burned. This wasn't fair. He'd been so close to getting out.

I never should have come back home. I should have just had all those people arrested first thing, paid my dues to Uriya, and then gotten out of here. I'm so stupid...

"I bargained with the crossroads god for it," he mumbled, defeated. "It's a magic ring."

"And it does... what?" his father asked.

"It makes it so you don't have to obey anyone. You tell someone 'I am my own master' and they'll let you do whatever you want." He hated himself for giving the secret away, but he couldn't seem to make himself stop. A magic ring was no match for a lifetime of habit.

His father's eyes widened.

"That is far too dangerous a thing for you to keep," he said. "You hand that over right now!"

"No!" Enkaku shouted, jerking his hand away. He balled his hand into a fist and cupped the other hand over it. "It's mine! I bargained for it! The god gave it to me!"

"Give it!" his father snapped. He grabbed for Enkaku's hand and tried to wrench the ring away. Enkaku struggled, fighting to escape his father's grasp, trying to escape. His back was against a wall, and his father was taller and wider than he was. Enkaku fought anyway, twisting and turning like a rat in a snare. The stairs were just a few paces away. If he could slip free, he could run away to his room and lock the door. He could climb out the window and escape. He could leave town. He'd have to give the ring back to Uriya, but that would be better than giving it up to his father...

"Give... it... here!" his father growled, and he struck. One of his big meaty hands swung backhand and hit Enkaku's cheek, and Enkaku lurched backwards, momentarily stunned. He leaned against the wall, ears ringing, eyes very wide. His father had never hit him before. Shouted at him, berated him, made him feel like dirt, but never hit him. He was dazed as much with shock as from the blow. He was still standing there trying to comprehend what had happened when his father reached out, grabbed his hand, and twisted off the ring.

"There," said his father, breathing hard. "Now go to your room, and I hope you've learned your lesson."

Without waiting to see if his orders were being followed, the mayor turned and swept away, ring still clutched in his hand. Enkaku watched him go. For a few seconds, he just stood there, leaning against the wall, waiting for his heart rate to go back down. Despite the bruise he could feel forming on his cheekbone and the bare place on his finger where the ring had been, he still couldn't quite absorb the fact of what had just happened. It was only after some time had passed that his brain began working again.

His first thought was, Great, now I'm never going to get out of here.

His second, slightly more broad-minded, thought was, What is he going to do with that ring?

Well, he knew the answer to that. His father was going to take matters into his own hands, throw everyone out of the Cloverleaf no matter what anyone said. After that... well, even if the ring only lasted for a month, he could probably find ways to make a lot of people's lives miserable, especially Enkaku's.

I need to find Uriya, he decided at last. This wasn't about him anymore. This was about the good of the whole town. Still moving shakily, he stood and started towards the door.

He was altogether too rattled to wonder why he caught a brief whiff of baking bread and cut grass without any obvious source.


The service was going well. Kinshiro, lurking unobtrusively behind the bar, watched the proceedings and thought that it was a shame that Atsushi wasn't here to see it. That bothered him. Atsushi had wanted to be there - assured Kinshiro that he would be there. Whatever was keeping him, it must have been important. Kinshiro trusted that Atsushi could look after himself, but all the same, he hoped that nothing had gone too badly wrong.

Still, he told himself, this service was as much for the good of the townspeople as it was for Atsushi. It had begun with the new priest reciting a prayer and drawing the congregation into a call-and-response. Then one of the local musicians played a hymn, with lyrics hastily adapted from an old folk song. Then Endou had delivered a rousing sermon. Now the service was winding down, and the congregation was enjoying complimentary food and drinks as they socialized. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood, although whether that was anything to do with the quality of the cobbled-together service, because they were putting something over on the pompous mayor, or whether they were just happy about the free food and beer. At any rate, they seemed content, and that was probably what Atsushi would want.

He was jarred from these pleasant thoughts by the waft of grass and baking bread scent that meant Atsushi was near. He glanced up and saw his husband standing there, but the expression on Atsushi's face was one Kinshiro had never seen before. Atsushi had always been the gentlest and most forgiving of people - it was how he'd gotten his job, after all - so seeing him in a genuine rage was unsettling.

"Atsushi, what's wrong?" Kinshiro asked, muting his voice so that the other people in the room couldn't hear him.

"Mayor Sousa stole a ring from his son," Atsushi said. "He hit him."

"Who hit who? Start from the beginning," Kinshiro replied.

Atsushi took a deep breath, visibly making an effort to calm himself.

"Enkaku admitted that he made a bargain with the crossroads god for a magic ring," said Atsushi. "It makes it so people can't tell him what to do. The mayor caught him using it, guessed that it must be magic, and forced him to tell him how to work it. Then the mayor hit Enkaku and wrenched the ring away, and I think he's probably coming here next."

Kinshiro hissed with annoyance.

"Thanks for the warning," he said. "I'm familiar with such rings. They're nothing but trouble, but it's against the rules for me to ban them."

"We ought to get everyone out of here," said Atsushi. "Before Mayor Sousa gets here and starts using it on people."

"Right you are," said Kinshiro. He smiled a little. "Perhaps its time for you to make your official debut."

A moment later, one of the guests happened to glance over his neighbor's shoulder to see a curious sight. A green glow was gathering over the table they had been using as an impromptu altar. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and looked again. The light was still there, larger and brighter than ever.

"Hey," he said to his companion, "would you look at that?"

The other people at the table turned to look as well. The light continued to grow, taking on a definite shape. All around the room, people were pointing and exclaiming. Behind the bar, Kinshiro smiled. It seemed his beloved husband knew how to make a proper entrance.

The green glow took on the form of a human man. It was only visible as lights and shadows, but it was still plainly a person. It spoke.

"I am Epinard, god of mercy," he said in quiet tones. "Thank you all for coming here tonight. I appreciate your willingness to be here for me. Now it's my turn to help you. Mayor Sousa is on his way here right now, and he is planning on having you all removed from here - by force, if necessary. I don't want you to try to stop him. He's stolen a magical item, and he may use it against you. You've done so much for me already - now it's time for you all to go find safety and leave me here to protect you."

It was a reasonable speech, Kinshiro thought. Even so, it took some time for the dazzled crowd to get over the fact that they were seeing and hearing an actual god and begin to process what he'd said. It took Endou and Arima working together to get them in motion, but within seconds, everyone had been cleared either out the front door or sent to the upper floors. Finally, there was only Atsushi, Kinshiro, Arima, and Endou left.

"What do we do now?" Arima asked.

"I think," said Atsushi slowly, "that we wait, and then we give him a little surprise..."