‘I’ve been making preparations,’ Radimir said, looking around at them. ‘Gathering what I need to call down the attention of the gods, the True Gods, to this miserable rock. When we can do that, when we can prove ourselves worthy of their notice, they’ll accept each and every one of you, and reward you richly and justly.’ He paused. Took a breath.

‘But to carry out the final part, the ritual that will allow us to commune with them, I will need your help.’

He let that sink in for a moment. Let them feel needed. Let them feel important. Give them a taste of agency, the notion that their insignificant lives could truly affect their world. They were used to endless labour without reward. Salvation presented on a plate might taste too sweet, might put them off. Better to dress it up in terms that they were used to, of labour with reward: better rewards, and coming oh so soon.

And besides, it would give him a wall of bodies to put between him and anyone who might come investigating, should that come to pass.

‘What do you need from us?’ Eichner asked eagerly. It wasn’t play-acting: Radimir hadn’t told Eichner the next stage of his plan, and the archivist was genuinely excited. He looked as though he could almost taste the forbidden knowledge that he craved… whatever it was.

‘We will need a large, open area on the planet’s surface,’ Radimir said, to a few gasps from his audience. ‘It must be at least seventy yards across in all directions, and cleared of debris. We will have to inscribe runes and wards, and trust me when I say that you do not want them to be disrupted because someone left a rock in the wrong place.’

He let them dwell on that for a moment. Of course, the runes and wards would be doing nothing to ensure their safety. Radimir didn’t want them disrupted because otherwise the ritual simply wouldn’t work. But they didn’t need to know that.

‘But Goodsire Niklau,’ someone spoke up, ‘we can’t be certain that our work will go uninterrupted. The Smog Deeps are dangerous!’

‘So am I,’ Evelyn Darke retorted, from the corner where she’d ensconced herself. There was a muttering and mumbling, but a general nodding of heads. Most people knew the Children’s resident pyromancer, and the notion that she’d be there to protect them seemed to go some way to reassuring the gathered crowd.

‘Aylen, Evelyn and Svet will be with you,’ Radimir said, receiving nods from the three that he’d named. ‘Take whatever weapons and protective gear you have, but do not fear the foul air overmuch. Soon the gods will come, and then whatever hardships you may suffer in the meantime will be as nothing. They will be seen as badges of loyalty and devotion!’

He pulled a data-slate out of his pocket. ‘Sulaman.’

‘Yes, Goodsire Niklau?’ the archivist said expectantly.