The Serpent strutted confidently, almost lackadaisically, into the central temple. Andrew kept step just behind her, face and posture serious.

  Atzi followed after them like a tourist.

  The interior was mostly polished marble, though fine wooden carvings decorated the corners. Potted plants lined the walls, various paintings of the gods and lands of the Empire above them in awe-inspiring detail. The ceiling of the first floor was twenty feet tall by itself, and there were two grand staircases on the left and right leading upwards. There were also clearly hallways leading to what must have been side rooms, the place far larger than Atzi imagined. The group moved past those, directly through another set of ornate double-doors into the central chamber.

  As Atzi looked around in awe, she was interrupted by a voice in her head. "This place feels familiar," the goddess said.

  Before Atzi could process what that might mean, Andrew shouted, "Announcing-"

  "Announcing my glorious selves!" The Serpent interrupted him. All three of her bodies posed. "I know you all missed me."

  Atzi gawped at the assembled deities and prophets, most of which eyed the Serpent in turn. The gods were all gathered around a circular table half the size of the room, most seated in ornate chairs of various sizes - those that fit them.

  The most intimidating god in the room was The Demon. He looked exactly like his statue, a giant eyeless goat covered in lumps - the same size, too, taking up an entire quarter of the room by himself. He hurt to look at, his radiating-morphing-sucking-puckering-exploding body constantly shifting around even as it maintained the same general shape.

  Atzi averted her eyes as she felt a headache coming on. Gods are scary. Suddenly she felt a lot less sure about her plan, and a lot more sure she was about to die.

  The Demon's prophet beside him was much nicer to look at, an attractive woman with light-pink hair in a simple black dress.

  The Serpent took a group of three seats next to the pair. Andrew followed after her, and Atzi slinked quickly after him.

  A few of the prophets glanced Atzi's way, curious. None of the gods paid her any attention. Neither did Malus.

  Atzi's attention shifted to her. The Prophet of the Saintess. One of the most powerful mages in the world. Leader of the Empire in all but name. Asshole.

  Atzi pushed down the part of herself that said coming here was a mistake, replacing it with spiteful glee that she was about to ruin Malus's day. Of course, she couldn't let it show on her face.

  A few other people in the room shuffled out. Then the giant double-doors in the chamber closed with a loud thud.

  There was silence for a moment.

  Malus spoke from her seat next to the Saintess, "All gods in attendance, through themselves or their prophet, will now introduce themselves, starting with the Water." She motioned to the god clockwise of her.

  The Water sat with a drain below her, catching her constant flowing stream of tears. Her prophet, a thin woman who was continually sobbing, stood hunched next to her. She said, "Water, goddess of Pomaria and burden-carrier of its people."

  It was strange for Atzi to see 'her' god. Even if she didn't really follow her, she had spent her life growing up immersed in the Water's religion, and had continued to get fed bits and pieces of it along with the free food she got from Jem. Encountering her in person made Atzi realize the full weight of what she had gotten herself into.

  Next to them was the Crow, a half-giant woman hovering rather than sitting, with a two-headed crow on her shoulder. Her prophet was a half-giant twice as tall as Atzi herself, yet only up to her goddess's shoulders. She was blindfolded and with two horns, which were even larger than her goddess's. "All-seeing, All-knowing, All-owning, the Crow," the prophet announced in a steady rhythm, almost like a song.

  Atzi could swear she saw lightning travel down the length of the Crow's body, but it was gone as quickly as she had noticed it. It left her more than a little bit uneasy.

  One of the Serpents clapped while smiling. Andrew stepped forward. "Introducing the Serpent-"

  "Glorious Serpent," the Serpent corrected him.

  "Glorious Serpent, Devourer of Lies, 'better than all the other gods', 'not as bored this time as usual'-" he glanced at his goddess. The Serpent nodded at him. "-'would like to offer Malus some swampweed'."

  Malus, for her part, merely stared at the Serpent.

  The Serpent retrieved a blunt from Andrew's robes, along with a match. She handed the blunt to another one of her bodies, struck the match on the table, and lit it for her. Her other body inhaled, and the one with the match ate it. The third said, "Your loss."

  Atzi forgot where she was for a moment and let out a short laugh.

  It was immediately drowned out when the Demon began to speak, shaking the table. Atzi clamped her hands over her ears, screwing her eyes shut. Yet she could still hear his rumbling voice, "the Demon."

  No titles were appended. None were needed.

  Atzi wiped a trickle of blood from the side of her face. She stared at the smear on her hand in disbelief, before looking back up again.

  The Shapeshifter twisted in form, but much more pleasingly than the Demon. Their shifting blue body, one moment shell and the next silk, was almost hypnotic to look at, especially closer like this. Many eyes blinked into existence along the darkness that split their amorphous form, one trained on every god.

  Atzi pulled her gaze away to look at their prophet. If they're the one that fucked with Kurgi…

  He was a man wearing a fanciful outfit consisting of a helmet carved like a tiger and a leather dress. He had predatory yellow eyes and scars across his face that reminded Atzi of an alley cat.

  When he glanced at her, Atzi looked away again.

  Finally the prophet spoke, "The Shapeshifter, as-the-sands, as-the-sea, the Sage of the gods."

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Next to him, the prophet of the Star, with a glowing star shaped halo above her head and three star tattoos under her left eye, sat alone. "The Star is present, as he is in all things; holy is his mission and sacred is his word."

  I thought he might not be real, but if she can hold a seat at this table, then he probably is.

  The Dragon scraped a claw across the table. It was the first time Atzi had seen the goddess in her humanoid form - her regular size was clearly too large for the temple. Instead of a massive black dragon, she looked like a tall lizard woman, taller than any she'd seen before, yet still much shorter than the Crow's prophet. She had two massive crescent horns jutting from either side of her head, and various closed wounds crossing over her body. Each time she breathed out, a small amount of fire escaped her lips or nose. "Just get on with it."

  I wonder if she knew the swamp dragon I'm descended from?

  Her prophet was a human woman with light purple hair, who merely stood there looking disgruntled.

  Next to them the Ancestor sat proud with his arms crossed. He was a mass of muscle with wild hair and bronze spikes pierced through his ears. Jewel sat beside him. He didn't have the physical size of some of the others around the table, although he was still impossibly tall for a human. But something about his overall mass gave him an intimidating aura. He did not speak. Jewel, instead, took a deep breath. "The Ancestor, F-first of Humanity, Monarch of Mountains, He of a Thousand Arts."

  It was clear to Atzi that Jewel must have practiced her speech a lot, to stutter that little.

  And finally, the Saintess, covered in bandages and with a rhombus crystal hung from around her neck, sat slouched in a chair. Her seat was further away from the table than her prophet's, like an implicit note she was above it all.

  Malus spoke on her behalf, "True Goddess of the Empire, Founder, Healer of Men, Former of Bargains, the Servant-Ruler. The Saintess."

  Let's see you keep your composure when I'm spilling all your secrets.

  Malus continued, "We are gathered here today on this, the fiftieth year since our last meeting, a unification of our nation's great gods to decide amongst us who shall lead." Her voice was bored, like this was all a formality. She stood up. "Before we vote, all gods or their representatives are entitled to speak their mind in an effort to get the others to vote for them." She again motioned to her left. "We shall proceed clockwise, starting with The Water."

  Atzi imagined what the goddess's speech could be. I will make things worse for everyone. They will feel like shit all the time. Vote for me.

  Yet the goddess herself said, in a surprisingly quiet voice that nonetheless echoed through the large room, "I have no desire to lead the Empire."

  The Crow spoke next, voice echoing not through the room, but with the voices of many people speaking at once. "Nor myself."

  "You're up," The Serpent whispered to Atzi.

  Atzi stepped forward a little "Ah... aha... the S-Serpent has asked me to uh... to say..." She felt a little dizzy, standing here. She stopped for a moment, trying to calm herself down.

  "You can do it," the goddess in her head encouraged her.

  I am definitely dying here. But I'm dying anyway. She looked at Malus again. And before that…

  She took a deep breath. "In a few hours, the undead are gonna be summoned in the city. An endless amount. All across the Empire, this time. And it won't stop until everyone's dead."

  Atzi checked to see Malus's response before continuing. The Prophet of the Saintess simply raised an eyebrow, throwing a quick glance at the Serpent before looking back at Atzi.

  Next to Malus, the Ancestor wore a stony expression.

  Atzi continued, "I don't know exactly how they get summoned, but someone here does. Right, Malus?" She gave the prophet of the Saintess a shit-eating, spiteful grin.

  The Ancestor spoke in a deep tone, "Why is this insignificant-"

  "Ah ah ah!" The Serpent spoke, each 'ah' from a different mouth. "She's my guest. Let her speak."

  Malus looked placid. If what Atzi had said bothered her, she did not show it. "If you do not know, how would I?"

  "Because I know the future. I know several futures." Atzi slapped the table. "That's how I figured it out. I know you're going to destroy the city to try and stop them - doesn't work, too! You're strong enough to blow up the whole city, and you can't even stop it." She laughed. "So I think whatever's gonna happen is a big, stupid fuck-up. Because if I'd gone to Regent about all this, you'd have had him killed for looking into the necromancers in the city."

  Malus slowly blinked her one good eye.

  "I don't know all the details, but I know you're behind them." Atzi spat. "Because I'm a prophet too. Bitch. Of a god you really, really don't want me being a prophet of." She was still grinning manically.

  "What's the meaning-" Malus started, addressing the Serpent.

  Atzi interrupted her, "You should know her. Green skin. Long hair."

  Malus went silent, eyes wide.

  "That got your attention, didn't it?" Atzi leaned forward. "Who is she, Malus? Or are you just going to burn me alive without even saying? You that much of a coward, huh?"

  None of the other gods or people reacted to this information, beyond looking curious, smiling, or acting disaffected. Many eyes shifted between Atzi and Malus.

  Atzi scratched the table hard enough to leave a claw mark, though not nearly as deep as the Dragon's. "Seems like no-one else knows her. Why don't you tell us? You're gonna kill them all in a few hours anyway." She was shaking, but she still had a deranged grin.

  A number of emotions flashed across Malus's face, so varied and quick that Atzi couldn't catch them all. Finally she recovered. "I need to talk to this one privately. We shall suspend the meeting," Malus addressed the room.

  "We shall not." The Demon again rumbled, and the table shook once more.

  Atzi's ears hurt, but she recovered. That's unexpected. Is Malus... is she... going to tell me something? She looked at the Serpent.

  The Serpent licked the air. "Afraid we're going to overhear?"

  "Tell us. Tell us all," came the Crow's multiple voices.

  "No!" Malus shouted. "This is a private matter of the Saintess! It is no one's business but her's, or mine!"

  "We heard-heard-heard the accusations." The Shapeshifter's words ran together, as if they never ended, simply changing from one to the next, yet with an occasional stutter. "They are dire. We shall not let you go-go-go."

  Malus looked angry, downright furious.

  Got you.

  The prophet of the Saintess closed her good eye, expression resolute.

  And then, she did the thing Atzi least expected.

  She began to cry.

  "Wh-what in the hells?" Atzi blurted out, shocked.

  Every other prophet looked at Malus in disbelief. Some of the gods in contempt. The Saintess twitched, but otherwise did not react.

  The Serpent erupted into a trio of laughter.

  Malus gave full heaving sobs, shoulders slumped, tears dripping down onto her robes.

  "You are suffering," The Water said, concern in her voice.

  Atzi looked at the Serpent, really confused. "D-does she do this normally?" she asked quietly.

  One of the Serpent's bodies stopped laughing to speak. "No, this is quite a treat. I've not known her to show weakness even once in the time I've known her." She licked her teeth. "But… it's quite delicious to behold."

  "Why's she crying? What did I do?" Atzi scratched her head rapidly. "I thought she'd just kill me, this is weird."

  "Does she… does she not want me back?" came Malus's quivering voice, directed at Atzi.

  Atzi looked up again, feeling no less confused. "Who? The... goddess? I don't know, she doesn't know you. She doesn't... remember anything."

  "She doesn't..." Malus looked, her sad expression warping into one of immense pain.

  "Who am I?" the goddess asked.

  "Who is she?" Atzi repeated for her.

  Malus started laughing in between her sobs. "Why?! She's back, but she's not mine! She's not here with me!" She pointed at Atzi. "She's here with you!" she screamed the last word. Her face was suddenly filled with fury.

  "Who? Who?!" Atzi asked.

  Malus screamed, "The Saintess!"