Sarka had never spent much time wondering about the Opal Realm. With her energies focused on the immediate problems she faced in her own world, her curiosity about the realm of the gods had extended only so far as it touched upon how she might obtain Kogoren's God-Song. She had pictured a shadowy, cobwebby dungeon where the God-Song might lay on a pedestal guarded by a dozen ghostly Beloved...and that was where her imagination had stopped.

Now, she was in the Opal Realm herself-a mortal woman, standing in the realm of the gods-and she was, for once in her life, at a loss for words.

Galdren had been beautiful to her. There, she had seen a sea of humanity rushing along streets lined with soaring buildings of stone. She had seen gardens brimming with all manner of green and growing things. She had the Hundred God Grotto and beautiful temples that hinted at a world of worship and blessings she had never known. But compared to what she now saw at the gates of Lady Deyna's palace, Galdren was nothing.

The sky above them was powder blue, the edges near the horizon tinged with pink, like a maiden's blush. Before them, past a set of intricately-wrought gates, extended a path of brilliant gold hemmed in on either side with lush gardens of feathery ferns and blooming hedges. Brimming fountains and trees taller than any Sarka had ever seen ornamented the landscape. Vibrant birdsong filled the air, borne aloft on a breeze that also carried the heady scent of flowers.

Atai's magical portal had taken them directly to their destination: at the end of the golden walk, Sarka could see a towering palace of gold that could only be the dwelling place of Lady Deyna, Goddess of Prosperity and Abundance. It gleamed in the sun, so bright that it nearly hurt Sarka's eyes to look upon it, handsome and opulent and extraordinary in every way.

"Come," said Atai, coaxing Sarka forward with his hand on the small of her back. "I expect she will be waiting for us."

"This should be easy," said Ro. "I can tell she's a reasonable sort from the restraint she shows in her decorating."

"You will want to restrain yourself," Konn muttered. "It will not do to make another enemy today."

"Yes. We are outdoing ourselves when it comes to making enemies. Let's pace ourselves," Sarka said. Atai cleared his throat-how, Sarka could not guess-and with a glance at him, she said, "Sorry."

Lady Deyna did not lack for indulgences, and there was no dearth of servants in her palace. The gates that opened the way to the golden road were attended by three liveried guardsmen on either side, and the soaring double doors of the palace by twice as many. By the time they reached these doors, Sarka's head was swimming from the perfume of the flowers.

"Welcome to the Palace of Prosperity," said the beautiful young woman who met them inside.

Sarka glanced at Ro, only to find that he had looked at her as well. They exchanged expressions laden with wry commentary, and she had to break eye contact to keep from laughing.

"Do follow me. My lady expects you." The servant bowed and then turned to lead them from the glittering antechamber into a long hall where the painted tile floors and the luxurious wall hangings were all deep sapphire blue. From there, they entered an adjoining hall where the chandeliers dripped with rubies, and finally, they passed through a sitting room filled with cushioned chairs and woven rugs in shades of emerald.

"Please wait here," said the servant, "and I shall see if my lady will receive you now." She passed through a pair of doors that glittered with green gemstones.

Sarka had never seen so much color in her life. She was certain she would not make it through another dazzling room without vomiting.

"Please tell me I haven't gone mad," whispered Ro.

Sarka raised her brows. "We are in the Opal Realm, Ro," she said. "This can only mean that we've both gone mad."

In a whisper, Atai said, "I wish I had shown you my own residence first. You are in for nothing but disappointment now, I'm afraid."

One of the glittering doors opened, and the servant stepped back into the antechamber. Gesturing into the room beyond, she bowed and said, "If you please."

Atai went first. Sarka went behind him, followed closely by Konn and Ro.

To her relief, Lady Deyna's audience chamber had been decorated in more muted hues; it reminded Sarka very much of the goddess's temple in Deynaport. The slender columns that supported the roof were surmounted by capitals ornamented with flowers and ferns, and stained glass windows took up almost all the upper half of the room, although by Sarka's reckoning they had to be deep inside the palace. To the left and the right were crowds of Deyna's retainers. Sarka was not sure if they were gods or men, but they were all of them dazzlingly beautiful; each man and woman among them must have worn a lifetime's wages in their sumptuous clothes and adornments.

At the end of the room was a chair many times taller and more ornate than was necessary, and on that chair was the blue-gowned woman Sarka had seen once before.

"Lady Deyna," said Atai. He bowed his shoulders, holding up his head but lowering his eyes in the best gesture of respect he could muster. Sarka, Ro, and Konn all bowed as well, following his lead. "Thank you for receiving us."

"Thank you for reaching out the hand of friendship," said Lady Deyna. "I did intend to discuss with you your-unique guests, Lord Atai, but the matter became somewhat urgent after today's most alarming turn of events."

"Yes. Lady Kogoren seems to be testing the boundaries of her prison," Atai said.

Deyna smiled. She rose from her seat and descended the steps of her dais, a very regal figure indeed. Behind her, her long train of crushed velvet unfurled. "But it isn't a prison, is it, my lord? It was an agreement. And agreements are just words."

"Powerful words, though, you will agree. Kogoren was to stay in her land."

"And so were her people," Deyna said. She had nearly reached them, but she stopped a short distance away and tipped her head in an elegant gesture of inquisition. "Sarka the Scarred and Ro the Ash-Walker are Lady Kogoren's people, are they not?"

"You know how it is in the ash-lands," said Atai. "Her people starve and they die."

Deyna sighed, and her exquisitely beautiful features rippled with what Sarka took to be concern. "I know."

"I offered them shelter."

"I know," repeated Deyna.

"But that's not all you offered them, is it?"

This was a new voice. A man stepped forward from the crowd. His thick, wavy hair and full beard were red as rust, and he was powerfully built: a warrior.

"Lord Daros," said Atai. "What fortune that I should find you here, as well."

Fortune? Sarka glanced at Konn, but the priest was not looking at her. His deep complexion had turned strangely pale, and Sarka, who was getting a bad feeling about the course of Atai's conversation with Lady Deyna, was not reassured to see that Ro was feeling the same. As she looked back toward Daros and Deyna, she caught sight of someone else.

Things would not turn out well for them here, she realized. There was no way that they could. Beyond Daros, in the crowd of beautiful people, stood Lord Jalea, calmly waiting.

"You've always been too soft, lad," said Daros. Sarka turned her attention back to the conversation between the deities, feeling nauseous.

Atai's back had stiffened. "We agreed to stand against Lady Kogoren should she threaten any of our people," he said. "The wayward and the hopeless are my people, be they of my own nation or no."

"You cast your net too broadly," said Lady Deyna in a soft and gentle voice. "My dear Atai, I am sorry. For many years, we kept the peace. And you-all of you-have broken it."

Sarka reached out blindly. Ro's hand, when she found it, was clammy, but at least it was something to hold onto.

Atai, without the benefit of a normal man's physiology, could not easily look between Deyna and Daros; cradling his head in his arm and shifting so he could favor one or the other with his glance made him look foolish now, and Sarka wondered how she had ever felt confident under the protection of this poor excuse for a god. What powers had he other than a bleeding heart to match his bleeding neck?

"Deyna. Daros. You must stand with me," said Atai. "What are we gods if we do not protect the innocent and the suffering?"

Daros laughed, and at the sound of his laugh, all the lovely courtiers who filled Lady Deyna's audience hall began to laugh, too, until the chamber resounded with their merriment and mockery. "My dear Atai," Daros said at last. "I am the god of valor. My lady is the goddess of prosperity. What have we to do with innocence or suffering? Those are your purviews. See how it has served you."

Drawing his sword, Daros called, "Enter!"

Sarka spun round, her heart hammering in her breast, just in time to see the doors they had entered through bursting open, and behind them was a sea of ghostly faces. Her every sense electrified with panic, she looked desperately around for any avenue of escape, but Deyna's courtiers had closed rank behind her, and before her, the Beloved flooded into the room, cutting off all chance of flight.