The Shattered Goddess by Darrell Schweitzer

intense delight The screams would rise and rise like a storm in the desert, like an endless deluge, like the thunderof a never ending avalanche, and the boy would awaken into the foul, stuffy room. He hoped he hadn’t cried aloud in his sleep. Sometimes, when he woke, Amaedig was awake. Sometimes not. Once he put his hand in hers and held her tightly.
    After a long period of wakefulness there came a new terror. There was a stirring farther inside the building. Someone was coming. He heard footsteps, a mumblingvoice, a latch being lifted. There was no time, no chance to escape. He lay there breathless, eyes wide in the darkness.
    Suddenly light shone through cracks between boards. A door opened, swinging inward. A fat man with a curled beard entered, lantern in hand. The light reflected off his balding head. He put the lantern down on the floor, pulled up his nightgown above his waist, and beganto urinate into a pit dug in the dirt floor. Now Ginna knew what gave the place its distinctive character.
    When he was done he picked up the lantern, turned, and stopped. Ginna froze, hoping against all reason that he hadn’t been spotted.
    “You have to be crazy to sleep in the shit house.”
    Ginna stumbled to his feet “Please sir, you must help us...”
    Amaedig was standingbeside him. She elbowed him in the ribs. He lost his balance and fell against the outer wall.
    “What he means to say is that you must help us if you know what’s good for you.” She spoke as authoritatively as she could. “We are on a secret mission for The Guardian himself.”
    Ginna could see the man’s face only dimly, but he was sure there was a flash of hatred on it, which gave way, alsoonly for an instant, to fear before becoming an expressionless mask.
    “Surely,” the man said, “the Holy Lord Kaemen, all blessings be upon him, provides better quarters for his agents than—”
    “Idiot,” said Amaedig, “there are only two things you must understand. First, the mission is a secret. Second, certain traitors have made it difficult for us. If you are not one of them, you willdo what we ask.”
    Ginna limped forward and held out his right hand, on which he wore Tharanodeth’s ring.
    “It has The Guardian’s seal on it. Look.”
    The men held his lantern close and squinted.
    “So it is. A thousand pardons for my rudeness, Lord and Lady, but I didn’t know—”
    “Never mind that,” snapped Amaedig. “Show us out of here.”
    They were led through a creaking,unlit corridor, into a wide room. Ginna’s feet hurt so badly he was afraid he’d faint. It was only then that he remembered the glass on the top of the wall.
    They were motioned to be seated on a bench. The man disappeared up a flight of stairs, taking the lantern with him.
    Amaedig let out a deep sigh. “I hope he believed me.”
    Her voice cracked with fear. “What else could I do?”
    “I was too afraid to do anything.”
    “Well, once I got going, I kept on. Like the way we fell. We couldn’t stop once we started.”
    “Are your feet cut?”
    “Yes. Quiet! Here he comes again.”
    The man returned, accompanied by a round-faced, middle-aged woman who also wore a nightgown. Both of them moved about the room, checking that the shutters were all tight, and then theman took two candles out of a drawer, lit them from his lantern, and set them on a table near the bench.
    “That’s a nasty cut you have there, young sir,” said the woman, once there was enough light to see by. “Here, let me get you something for it” She opened a cupboard and took out a jar. Ginna watched apprehensively as she smeared a sticky substance over his leg. But as she did, the painin it subsided.
    “Please, my feet too.”
    She fetched a bowl of water, washed the mud off his feet, put salve on the wounds, and bandaged them. The man did the same for Amaedig.
    “We’ll do anything we can for you,” the man said, “us being loyal subjects and all.”
    “Bring us common clothing,” said