“Well, here’s the thing. You know how I said I don’t like gods?”

“Sure.”

“My sponsors are worse. And when I say ‘worse’—”

“Another professional euphemism?”

“Basically. I’ve had a few bad experiences. Most of our sponsors, they have a history. The King in Red broke the Quechal gods on his altar, and killed the moon in single combat; Ilyana Rakesblight and the Blade Queen seared the sky over Kho Katang. You don’t even want to know the outline of half the stories I’ve heard about Belladonna Albrecht.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying my bosses want to be sure they aren’t supporting gods when they deposit their soulstuff here.”

Was that a lure to her anger, or an honest question? If this woman wanted to sabotage her board’s plans to build an idol on Kavekana, she would see a fight with Kai as a win. “Our idols are not gods, Ms. Batan.”

“You have priests, and altars, and prayers. What’s different?”

Kai closed her eyes, and breathed her anger away. Unfortunately, it was still there when she opened her eyes again. “Do you know anything about Kavekana’s history?”

“A bit, from the brochures.”

“Our gods rowed off to fight your sponsors in the Wars,” Kai said. “The greatest warriors and priests of the Archipelago went with them. They never came back. But people stayed, and kept faith. The priests of Kavekana took that faith and made new images, idols to watch over us with the gods gone. They weren’t alive, these idols, not like the gods were—they couldn’t speak, or guide, or love, or correct. Didn’t have the history, the complexity. But they helped, and later we learned that mainlanders found them useful.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Teo said.

“No one who has seen a real god would confuse the idols we build with one.”

She nodded, still skeptical. “I’m not used to this sort of thing, to be honest. I’m no Craftswoman, nor, obviously, a theologian Applied or otherwise. We don’t have much truck with gods and spirits and idols and the like back home in Dresediel Lex. At least, we don’t if everything goes according to plan. If it’s a question of seeing, could I see these idols of yours myself? The whole Two Serpents board knows how I feel about gods; if I go back and tell them there’s no trouble, they’ll believe me.”

So close, Kai thought. She could hear Teo teeter on the brink, changing her mind, ready to work with her. It hurt to say, “I’m sorry.”

“Why not?”

“Privacy. We have to protect our pilgrims.”

“If I can convince my board to work with you,” Teo said, “we might be talking about a big investment here. Could you make an exception?”