A small crowd had gathered in the sanctuary of the Temple of Epinard - the room that had been, a few days ago, the common room of the Cloverleaf Inn. There wasn't much difference to see, Atsushi observed. The room was in slightly better repair, thanks to the army of carpenters that had been in and out all week, but it still had the same homely comfort. There was the same fire burning in the fireplace, the same beer on tap and the same food in the kitchen, and the same - well, almost the same - chattering crowds around the tables.

Atsushi and his friends were throwing a small party. Most of their divine friends had elected to come, which limited the number of mortals they could invite as well, but there was still a respectable showing. Arima was there, of course, trying to reassure Itsumo that this was all very ordinary, really, nothing to get stressed about. Shou was taking it all rather better, perhaps because he didn't have a professional stake in the matter, and for the last half hour or so had been having a pleasant chat with Io about ways to improve his salesmanship. Endou sat across from Arima, trying to clear up a few last-minute matters of the priesthood before they went their separate ways. At the other end of the table, Ryuu and Akoya were earnestly discussing clothes with a wide-eyed Kurotori. It was a little strange to Atsushi to see Gora and Yumoto sitting and eating together. They had been friends of his for a long time, but it had only just occurred to him that he'd never actually seen them as customers before. He wasn't even certain he'd ever seen Gora set foot inside the building.

The guests of honor, such as they were, sat side by side at the coveted place nearest the fire. Uriya, in his usual manner, had been torn between trying not to offend his host by refusing food and trying not to look greedy by taking everything that came his way, with the end result that he'd taken a long time to eat very little. Atsushi rather suspected that the only thing that had convinced him to stop dithering long enough to eat anything was that Enkaku kept pushing dishes towards him and saying, "Here, try some of this!"

I think they'll be good for each other, Atsushi thought, and had to laugh at himself. Clearly Ryuu was becoming a bad influence on him. Still, it was nice to think that these two would be looking after each other when they left Binan.

"Do you need anything else?" Atsushi asked.

Enkaku pushed the crust of his sixth beef-and-mushroom hand pie around on his plate.

"That was plenty, thanks," he said. "I'm really going to miss these when we're gone. Nobody else could ever make them like you do."

Considering how much of making them had involved using godly powers to facilitate the cooking process, Atsushi felt that was a fair comment.

"I'll make another batch for you guys to take with you," he promised. "And I'll try to check in on you guys once in a while, to make sure you're both okay."

"You should offer them your blessing," Yumoto prompted, from around a mouthful of buttered bread.

"Oh," said Atsushi. "How do I do that?"

"Just say it," said Yumoto. "As long as you say it and mean it, it'll stick."

"All right, then," said Atsushi. He turned back to Enkaku and Uriya. "You have my blessing, then. For whatever that's worth."

"Possibly more than you think," said Gora. He was looking at Atsushi with a thoughtful gaze that Atsushi found mildly unsettling. "It's always a surprise when mortals become gods. We never quite know how they're going to turn out. No matter what they were uplifted for, parts of their original personality carry over and influence the way their powers develop. Haven't you noticed by now that some of the things you can do don't fit neatly under the heading of 'god of mercy'? Feeding the hungry might be a merciful act, but that doesn't quite explain how you can pull ingredients out of empty cupboards and make a single potato feed ten people."

"I hadn't really thought about it," Atsushi admitted. "There was just so much else going on... I guess I figured it was just god stuff and didn't worry about it."

"Well, I can't be sure," said Gora, "but I'm pretty sure what we've got here is a case of 'you can take the innkeeper out of the inn, but you can't take the inn from the innkeeper'. I think there's some aspect of your powers that's still tied to a desire to take care of people. I suppose that makes you a sort of god of hospitality."

Atsushi turned that thought over in his mind. He began to smile.

"I think I like that," he said.

Yumoto nodded. "With your blessing on them, it will be safe for them to travel, because they'll always be able to find shelter and food and stuff wherever they go. It'll help them a lot."

"In that case, you definitely have my blessing," said Atsushi. "Be safe out there, and find welcome wherever you choose to go."

He felt it take, the way he'd felt the pieces of the wooden jigsaw puzzles he'd played with as a child when they slipped into their proper places.

"Thanks a lot," said Enkaku sincerely.

"We're probably going to need it," Uriya added.

Atsushi realized that someone had been watching this exchange for some time now. He turned around to see that Shou had approached him in his usual unobtrusive fashion.

"Can I help you with something?" Atsushi asked. "Do you and Itsumo need a getting-home-safe blessing too?"

"No. Well, maybe," said Shou, blushing slightly, "but that's not why I came over. It's just... well, they were saying you were the god of mercy, right? And then they were saying you were the god of hospitality too?"

"Apparently," said Atsushi. "I'm still a little new to this whole 'god' thing myself, so I'm sort of picking it up as I go along."

"I understand," said Shou. "I was just thinking... well, my family has never really served any god in particular, so I'm not sworn to anybody, but you seem like you're in charge of things that are really important. I wondered if maybe you'd let me be your first devotee?"

Atsushi was slightly surprised. Devotees weren't members of the priesthood, but simply ordinary people who chose to devote themselves to a particular god, agreeing to follow their laws in exchange for their blessings. Atsushi had accepted that he would be gaining priests, but the idea that anyone would be so interested in him that they'd choose to devote themselves to him above all other gods...

"It isn't that I don't respect Aurite," Shou added quickly, with a glance at his husband. "Don't get me wrong. I know we couldn't manage without him, but..."

"I don't mind," said Itsumo, looking thoughtfully from Kinshiro to Atsushi and back. "It seems quite... appropriate, actually."

"In that case," said Atsushi, "I'd love to have you as a devotee. Just talk to Endou before you go home - he's got the list of rules written up."

Shou went off to follow this advice, looking pleased with himself.

"Aww, that was nice," said Yumoto. He looked to his big brother. "Hey, we should have someone who does that."

"Does what?" Gora asked.

"Helps people find where they need to be," Yumoto elaborated. "Bringing people to the right gods and workers to employers and servants to masters. And the other way around too, I guess. Like Ryuu does but more with loyalty than romance."

"A sort of god of devotion?" Gora murmured. He gazed thoughtfully across the room, to where Arima was still chatting with Endou. "That's not a bad idea. We'll work on it."

Yumoto, satisfied with that answer, turned his attention back to his dessert. Enkaku regarded the two brothers speculatively.

"Who are they really?" he asked Atsushi.

Atsushi just smiled. "They're our friends. That's all any of us need to worry about."

Gradually, the meal wound down. Gora and Yumoto politely wished everyone a good night and good luck, and ambled back to their bathhouse. The various other gods took their leave and vanished back to whatever work or leisure they had been pursuing before the trial. Arima and Endou went upstairs to continue their theological discussion. Shou and Itsusmo returned to their room to enjoy one last free night before returning to their work and their family. Uriya and Enkaku graciously accepted the offer of rooms for the night and went to rest up for their big journey in the morning. Kurotori flitted off to visit his burly carpenter friend, saying something about wanting to discuss building a new gazebo on his property. Atsushi got the sense that when Kurotori went home, the carpenter would be going with him. Oh well, that was something for Ryuu to worry about. For now, the inn was quiet, and everyone in it was content. Atsushi wandered around the common room, putting out the lamps and cleaning up crumbs.

I really do love this place, he thought. He was glad to know that he'd be leaving it in good hands, that it would be doing good work even if it wasn't the purpose it had originally been built to serve. The old Cloverleaf Inn was changing, but it was becoming something grander and better than it had been before, just like the man who had last owned it.

"What are you thinking?" Kinshiro asked, coming up behind him.

"That I'm really glad we came here and did this," said Atsushi. "Everything turned out really well, don't you think?"

"I think you're right," he agreed. "We did good work."

"I know," said Atsushi. "This place is always going to mean a lot to me. I'm glad it's safe... but I think now I'm ready to go home."

Kinshiro put his arms around him. "I'm glad to hear you say that. The Heavenly City is your home now, too, and I want you to be happy there... but if you want, we can stay here one more night."

Atsushi turned around to face his husband. "You mean that?"

"I do," Kinshiro agreed. "After all, it is traditional to go somewhere nice on your honeymoon. I can't think of anywhere nicer than this, can you?"

Atsushi beamed and hugged Kinshiro.

"Nowhere better," he agreed.

And together, they went up to his room, on more time.


Epilogue - Two Years Later


Atsushi yawned and stretched as the attendant carried out a large stack of notes.

"Please tell me that was the last of them," he said.

"We're all done," Kinshiro assured him, carefully setting his pen into its special holder. "At least for today."

"There's always more coming," Atsushi agreed, "but I hope you'll forgive me when I say I am done making decisions for today. Let's think about something else for a while."

"I'm agreeable to that," said Kinshiro, in his usual solemn manner. "What would you like to do?"

"Can we look in on Binan and see how everyone is doing?" Atsushi asked.

Kinshiro gave him a tolerant smile. "You could do that yourself."

"I know," said Atsushi, "but it's easier when you do it for me."

Anyone else making such a suggestion would have gotten a lecture on industry, motivation, and the perils of laziness. Kinshiro only smiled, shook his head, and moved a clear glass prism from the corner of his desk to sit in a beam of sunlight. The light refracted into an image on the far wall - not a rainbow, but a clear moving picture of a lively town on the side of a mountain. Atsushi could just barely recognize the shape of his old home in this prosperous place. The image zoomed in, swooping past houses and shops that hadn't been there when Atsushi was a child, and settled at last on the Temple of Epinard. The construction on it had been finished, and the old inn was neatly integrated into a newer, larger building. People were going in and out, some seeking spiritual solace, others just in search of a good meal and some of the legendarily high-quality beer. The image continued to close in, moving through the windows and into the temple itself. At one of the tables, Atsushi could see Endou's wife - a plump, rosy-cheeked woman with a motherly nature - pressing a bowl of soup on a hollow-cheeked young woman. Over at the bar, Endou appeared to be doling out advice to a young man with tear-reddened eyes. The Temple of Epinard was the haven of all those who had come to the end of their ropes, a place where they could find a hot meal, a listening ear, some good advice, or a shoulder to cry on, whichever they needed most.

Kinshiro gave the prism a spin, and the scene changed. Now they were looking into a lavishly furnished study, all soft rugs, polished furniture, and handsome leather-bound books. Atsushi recognized the place. When Binan's economic boom had begun, the mayor had moved into a larger, grander house, suitable to his new status. He was sitting at his desk now, perusing a letter. Time had changed him, too. He had put on weight, and the vest that enclosed his expanded middle had real gold buttons on it. Yet despite these signs of prosperity, his face was more deeply lined than it had been two years ago, and there was more gray in his hair. His shoulders slumped in a way they hadn't when he'd been just the mayor of a tiny mountain village. In short, he looked the very picture of a man who had gotten everything he'd ever wanted and wasn't sure the price had been worth it.

The image pivoted, so that they were looking over his shoulder at the letter in his hand. It was a very battered letter, much folded, dog-eared, and crinkled in a way that suggested it had gotten wet at least once. It seemed to be the last page of a longer missive, beginning in mid-sentence:

"...spent a week just wandering around the Great Library. I never imagined there were so many books in the whole world, but Uriya says the library in the Palace of the Gods is even bigger, and he'll show me someday. We managed to get a place in a caravan heading west, so by the time you get this, we'll probably be on our way to the Endless Mountains. I really want to see the Jade Emperor's palace and the Cataracts of the Moon. We're planning on being on the other side of the mountains by autumn, so we can spend the winter in Candlehearth.

"Hope you and Mother are well, and that everything is going smoothly in Binan. Yes, I think of you often, and no, I still don't want to come home. Still having a wonderful time."

It was signed simply, Enkaku,, no family name. The mayor finished reading the page, then simply sat and stared at it.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Sir?" said a muffled voice outside. "The trade committee is waiting for you. Should I tell them to wait?"

"No, no," said the mayor. "I'll be right there."

Even so, he sat there for a few more seconds, staring down at the paper in his hand, before finally leaving the room.

"Well," said Atushi, as the image faded, "I think he's learned his lesson, don't you?"

"I think so," Kinshiro agreed. "All the same, I don't feel inclined to lift the banishment, do you?"

Atsushi shook his head. "It sounds to me like those two are quite happy where they are."

"Where are they, anyway?" Kinshiro asked. "The last time I thought to check in on them, they were in the City of Rivers, visiting En's temple and riding gondolas."

Atsushi laughed. "You read the letter - they're trying to get across the Eternal Mountains. Actually, I think they may have already made it to the other side, by now. That letter has been a long time in transit."

"Well, let's have a look and see," said Kinshiro, always the practical one.

He gave the prism another turn. The image on the wall changed, showing a road curving through a vast wilderness of scrub and red rock. Strolling down the road were two young men. They were a ragged-looking pair, their clothing patched and faded by the elements. The men themselves weren't much better, with their shaggy hair and weather-beaten faces. All the same, they looked healthy and hardy, moving with the ease of men who were used to walking and could walk a lot further before they finally gave up the hike. They trudged side by side, laughing and chatting, up the slope of a steep rise, and when they reached the top, they paused to take in the view.

And it was quite a view. Stretched out below them was a city, carved from the red rock of the desert around it. Many of the buildings were roofed with polished copper tiles, and in the setting sun, the whole of it glowed red as an ember. In the more shadowed parts of the city, people were already beginning to light lamps and candles, adding a flickering, dancing light beneath the sun's steadier blaze.

"We made it," said Uriya. "This is Candlehearth."

"It's beautiful," Enkaku murmured. He turned to flash a smile at his companion. "I'm so glad I got to see this with you."

Uriya gave him a look of tolerant amusement. "You always say that. About everything."

"Well, this is special," said Enkaku, blushing a little. "I mean, it's Vesta's holy city. It's the sort of place you ought to go with... you know, someone special."

The two of them were silent after that, but the look that passed between them was the kind that spoke more than words. When they started walking again, it was with a quicker pace than they'd set before, as if there was something in that city they couldn't wait to get to. Atsushi noticed with a smile that they were running hand in hand.

"Is that what you meant when you said Enkaku was going to give up his family name?" he asked, as the image faded. "Does Uriya even have a family name?"

"What sort of question is that to ask?" Kinshiro huffed.

Atsushi laughed. "You're as bad as Ryuu."

"I resent your implication," said Kinshiro. After a pause, he added. "Anyway, I was a newlywed then. A few romantic fancies are excusable in times like those."

"I agree completely," said Atsushi, still chuckling. He leaned his head on Kinshiro's shoulder. "I love you."

Kinshiro, not good with terms of endearment, didn't say anything, but he put his arm around Atsushi's shoulders and gave him a comforting squeeze.

Their moment was interrupted by a rap on the door. A moment later, the office door swung open, and En peered through the door.

"Are you two done yet?" he asked. "Your guy said you were done with work for the day. What are you doing hanging around an office if you don't have to do any work?"

"Just talking about things," said Atsushi.

"Well, how about talking about them downstairs?" En suggested. "You promised you'd have dinner with us, remember?"

"We'll be right there," Atsushi promised.

He pushed himself up from his chair, and after a resigned pause, Kinshiro got up and followed. Atsushi only smiled. This was his life now - his husband, his friends, and his work of trying to make the human condition just a little happier, and he wouldn't have given up any of it for anything.

He was, he thought, truly glad to be home.