Rain.
Precipitation of any kind was rare on Motavia. Though much of the planet had a temperate climate, the aridity was nearly universal. Through some trick of the weather, the vast majority of the water that evaporated into the air from lakes and seas emptied back into those same bodies of water instead of blessing the land. A day of rain was a day of relief for the subterranean water sources that were always stressed to their limit. Bowls and jugs, pots and troughs were all set out to capture as much of the rain as they could.
Janyn awoke to the soft hiss of the rain on the sill of the open window and the floor just inside. He had overslept, he realized; the sensitive apparatus of his internal clock had been deceived by the near-darkness within the room. The clouds that filled the sky were a heavy, leaden block that created twilight out of morning.
He knew at once that he had been awakened rather than merely waking on his own. The two felt differently, the slow rising into consciousness nothing like the sharp, bright shock of being jerked awake by external or internal stimuli. His gaze slashed the shadow-filled room, searching for threats but finding none.
Several short, quick raps on the door relieved his worry. Though his mouth and tongue felt thick and fuzzy, he called, "Coming!" all the while hoping it was a breakfast tray. He swished some water from the bedside carafe around in his mouth to help rinse out the taste of sleep, then tossed back the thin blanket and got out of bed.
"I hope," Janyn said as he reached for the door-lock, "there's frycakes and--oh."
It wasn't breakfast, or even an inn employee; it was Tera. A sudden flash of embarrassment shot through him as he realized he was facing the magistrate dressed for sleep in nothing but his trousers.
"Good...morning," she said, noticably without her usual careless aplomb.
"Sorry; I didn't expect you," he apologized--for no apparent reason, since he was decent and she hadn't announced herself.
"I thought you'd be awake," she said, faint accusation in her tone.
"I'll meet you in the common room in five minutes," he suggested.
"All right."
He was as good as his word. When he reached the common room she was standing there just inside the door, impatience suffusing her entire frame.
"Is there an emergency?" Janyn asked at once. "Has something new happened?"
"No," she said. "It's a new day, and we need to get back to work on the investigation."
"If there's nothing new, it can wait until I've had breakfast," he said. "I don't know when you got up, but I need fuel to start my day." Janyn strode past her and sat at a table, then signaled the waitress and ordered juice, sausage, frycakes, and fruit. A moment later, Tera sulkily sat down opposite him. She didn't speak for a couple of minutes, her scowl all the more fearsome on her death's-head face. Then, she began to relax.
"I'm sorry," Tera said.
"Thank you."
"Lord Zio tells me that my zeal is inspiring, but it often makes me expect more from people than I should, or indeed more than they ought to want to give."
"Zio," Janyn said. "That's the second time you've mentioned that name. Who is he?"
Tera's eyes widened in surprise.
"You've never heard of Zio, the Holy One?"
Janyn shook his head.
"I'm afraid not."
"Lord Zio is a holy prophet who has established his church in Kadary. The Way of his god is the path to truth in this world of chaos and unrighteousness!"
"You are a follower of this church, then?"
"Of course!" Her eyes burned with something that went beyond zealotry. "Lord Zio is the Truth and the Way. Only through his guidance can we hope to purge the corruption from the world."
"I suppose that appeals to you, as a magistrate?"
Tera shook her head sharply.
"No, you have reversed the events. Lord Zio's church grew to the extent that he became a member of Kadary's town council, and he felt that as such it was his obligation to guide his followers to a spirit of civic responsibility. He selected several of us to join various institutions; I was one of the ones named to become a magistrate. At first I was terrified of this new responsibility; I would have resigned had not Lord Zio put his trust in me. I could not let him down, so I worked hard, and soon I came to understand what he had seen all along, that this was not a task but an opportunity, a chance to act for justice in a tangible way and to demonstrate that the Holy One's Way is something to be lived daily, not merely recited and put aside!"
The waitress appeared then, delivering plates and cups while incidentally permitting Janyn the opportunity to digest Tera's affirmation of faith. Apparently now resigned to waiting, Tera ordered a cup of tea for herself; it came before Janyn had time for more than a couple of bites.
So, he thought, she sees her job as a religious duty. That explained her attitude towards his oversleeping and desire to eat. Actually, it explained more than that.
"Well, your prophet seems to take his civic duties seriously," Janyn said once the waitress was gone. "That's pretty rare in religion. Most of the time when a cult forms they either are so fixated on the spiritual that they ignore the world or they want to remake the world in their image and so don't respect it."
"Zio teaches that this world is essentially an illusion, a corrupt reflection of our own weaknesses. The righteous must purge what has been tainted, of course, but how much more valuable is it to convert the unbeliever by example?"
"And build the society of the righteous, eh?"
"Exactly!" Tera said earnestly. "The more pure we can render this world, the closer we come to the truth beyond."
"Clever," Janyn remarked, and meant it. New religions tended to get into trouble when they bumped up against entrenched power groups. Zio, it seemed, had instead chosen a strategy of supporting and infiltrating those power groups in Kadary. Well, perhaps not infiltrating, but certainly working from within, solving community problems rather than creating them.
Janyn dug into the sausage, finding it hot, tasty, and made with an unusual blend of spices. Perhaps a bit heavy on the verrish, he considered, but it still left a pleasant tingling on the lips like all good spicy food.
"I...forget sometimes that not everyone is as inspired as I am, though. People need rest and food, and I let my impatience carry me away. You don't see this case as," she added shyly, "the means of your soul's salvation."
Since Tera was both apologizing and offering details of her personal life to help explain her actions, Janyn stifled waspish comments like, "Whereas you consider my soul damned either way, so I'm not as motivated." Faith disturbed and unnerved him, probably because he had so little of it himself. Motavia and its society did not inspire him to believe in something better, some ideal. Most new religions, too, were nothing more than cults--a lot of flash and passion, but with no more lofty ideal than feeding its leader's cash-box, ego, or both.
"Well, it may not be a question of my soul," he said, "but it still could be the salvation of my client's life."
He ate and drank quickly while she sipped at her tea.
"Still, I don't think my oversleeping will cause too many problems for us. Men like Ned Crain rarely keep early hours, anyway."
"Ned Crain?"
"I'm going to question him this morning. Brent tells me he's got hooks in the local carters, using them to extort money from traders like Brent and Tyrell. He has a plausible motive, but there's another point. Whomever killed Prentiss did it without leaving any traces that we could find. That's not amateur work, and I'd guess the most likely person to be able to locate someone like that would be this town's biggest criminal boss."
Tera smiled, an expression that especially given her fine, white teeth emphasized her ghastly resemblance to a skull.
"It seems that I made the right decision to come here this morning."
"Oh?" He'd wondered at that.
"I thought you'd be more likely to reach a solution than the sergeant, so it made more sense that you and I combine our forces to see our way through this."
"You thought that I...?"
She nodded in affirmation.
"It's related to why the Kadary Magistrates exist, you see. Sergeant Paul appears to be an honest and sincere man, but he is what his title implies: the sergeant of the village guard."
"I'm not sure I follow you," Janyn admitted.
"He's not an investigator; he's a soldier, his job ultimately being to maintain order by fighting threats, from criminals to wandering monsters to marauding bandits. Even at that job, he doesn't have the training and expertise of a hunter. The Guild hunters are the elite, the court of last resort when a problem requires an expert fighter. Solving cases of secret murder isn't what he was trained to do, and so he is not prepared to cope with it, even though it is his duty to try."
"It's not what I'm trained to do, either."
"It's closer, though. You've already proven it to me, yesterday. His only advantage is local knowledge, which hasn't been useful to him so far. So, I thought we could combine our forces and work together."
Janyn smiled wryly.
"I've never been much for partners."
"Neither have I, but as Lord Zio says, one person can inspire the world to change, but it takes many to actually make the change."
It wasn't quite how he'd heard the sentiment expressed by others. Janyn supposed if he was going to start a new religion, he would make changes in philosophy from conventional wisdom also.
There wasn't any question of refusing her. She was the lawful authority, and a partnership meant a chance to work with that authority and influence it.
"Very well; you're quite right. Working together is probably best for both of us."