Pug resisted the urge to remark on that, as he felt he had had more than his fill of experiencing the divine. Several encounters with both Lims-Kragma, and Banath—the God of Thieves, Liars, and a host of other malfeasances—made it clear the gods were as real as the chair upon which he sat, so faith was never an issue, but he certainly felt as if he was their creature at times, and that left a sour taste in his mouth if he dwelled upon it too long.

The door opened and an elderly woman in the garb of a priestess entered, followed by a younger woman in similar attire. “You called for me, Holy Father?”

“Sister Makela, we have need of your knowledge.”

“I am at your disposal,” she said as Jim rose to offer the older woman his chair. She smiled, nodded her thanks, and took the seat. She was as old as the High Priest, and frail in appearance. But she shared the same lively gaze as the Holy Father.

The High Priest outlined what had already been discussed, finishing with a question: “Have there been any exhaustive studies on the exact nature of necromancy, specifically what use the life force robbed from Our Mistress might have to the necromancer?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, the old woman said, “Exhaustive, no. Several volumes of opinion exist, and I can have them brought up from the archives if you wish, Holy Father. The evidence suggests that the necromancer usually has one of two goals. First, to control the dead, harboring enough life energy to animate corpses to do his bidding.”

“Why?” asked Jim.

“A dead servant can have several advantages,” suggested the librarian. “It is impervious to death, obviously, and can only be stopped by the utter destruction of the body. These so-called undead can be prodigious bodyguards or assassins. They can exist in places where the living cannot long survive, stay underwater for a few hours, or in a room cursed, protected by poisonous vapor, or some other passive defense harmful to the living. Moreover, they can kill with plague or infection as well as weapons.

“The difficulty is they decay, as do all the dead, though life magic can be employed to slow it for quite some time.”

“What’s the other reason to use life magic?” asked Pug.

She sighed, as if this was distasteful for her to discuss. “To extend their own life, after death, to continue their consciousness in their mortal shell, rather than journey on to Our Mistress to be judged.”

“A litch,” said Amirantha.

“Yes,” agreed Makela. “It is the ultimate defiance of Our Mistress and the natural order of things. But the toll is great, for the mind of the magic user who extends his life this way is the first casualty of such evil; litches are universally mad, from all reports.”

“Madness does not preclude cunning and purpose,” observed Pug.

“True,” said the High Priest.