The Dark Glory War by Michael A. Stackpole

from my charcoal shield as it rose and washed over Kedyn’s face. The smoky trail twisted and writhed, seeming to carry to him all I had experienced. I didn’t expect a sign that Kedyn noticed me or cared about me, and I got none. The gods seldom meddled in the affairs of men, preferring to leave that sort of activity to the godlings andweirun —spirits of place that inhabit the world. Even so, I took my recollections as a sign that my prayer for Control might well have been answered.
    I stood, bowed, and made my way back up to the main temple level. There I found Nay and Leigh speaking with a cadaverously slender priest. Kedyn’s priest wore a black robe of rough-spun wool; he had shaved his head, but wore a mustache and goatee as dark as his robe. He held my pot of beans under one arm and, with the other hand, beckoned me close.
    He kept his voice low. “Forgive the intrusion, Master Hawkins, but I have been asked to conduct you from here. As I have explained to the others, your celebrity has preceded you. You were seen coming in here and, even now, an anxious crowd has gathered outside to question you about the events of the last two days. If you will follow me?”
    The priest turned and Leigh immediately set off after him. Nay and I exchanged glances, shrugged, then joined the procession. The priest led us off through an arched doorway and down stairs that took us below street level. They ended in a corridor that stretched out to the right and left, though the priest cut back beside the stairs and under them to a hidden corridor. What I had assumed to be solid block steps were, in fact, stone slabs that had been cantilevered into the wall, providing the open space. I plunged into the darkness with the others.
    A bit further down the corridor, which was only lit by the dim glow of fungi on the ceiling, I saw the priest’s silhouette. He pointed further along. “There is a circular stairway that leads down and out. Keep your hands on the central axis as you descend.”
    Leigh led the way, with Nay next and me bringing up the rear. I was a couple steps into the dizzying descent when I realized the priest was not behind me and that he still had my mother’s beans. I turned and started back up the steps. I saw the opening into the corridor I’d walked down closing and the bright green image of a bird with wings unfurled and upswept on the wall. In a heartbeat the image vanished and I realized that the whole stairwell cylinder had shifted ninety degrees as we were descending. Had I not turned around and seen what I did, I would not have noticed the shift.
    From below I heard Leigh’s voice. “Not quite what I expected as a way out.”
    “Nope.”
    I descended quickly and came out into a small room. Once I left the stairwell, the cylinder turned again, cutting us off. Opposite us appeared to be an image of the bird again, this time looking as if translucent green stone had been carved to fill holes cut into the wall. Its glow built to brightness, illuminating the trio of hooded robes hanging on the wall. The robes took on a greenish cast because of the light shining on them, but I suspected they were really as white as our moonmasks.
    Nay turned to regard the both of us. “Any idea what is happening?”
    I shook my head.
    Leigh’s eyes narrowed. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? We’ve attracted the attention of a Society.”
    “A Society?” Nay’s shoulders slumped a bit. “They exist, sure, but no trade is marked by this symbol.”
    Leigh held up a hand and waggled a finger at Nay. “Those are the Lesser Societies, Nay, the public ones. Every trade has one and accepts only the best of the guild into them. They grew up after the Great Revolt, as a response to the Major Societies. Before the revolt took hold, long before it, secret societies brought together the leaders of the day, allowing them to talk and plot. Some say the societies even predate the Estine Empire. I don’t know if that is true, but the empire’s incompetent leadership