Tarrin read that again, and then remembered what the Goddess had told him about the Firestaff. The god created from the Firestaff would be a god without constraint, she had told him. Was that why it was so dangerous? Would the Firestaff make someone a god equal in power to the Elder Gods? If that were so, why was Val, who was created by the power of the Firestaff, not destroyed by the other Elder Gods when he used the Firestaff to become a god?

Because Val was very clever, kitten, the Goddess answered. When he used the Firestaff to become a god, he became what we thought was a Younger God. Since we had nothing against Younger Gods, we permitted him to remain. We all regret that decision, she sighed. Had we destroyed him when we had the chance, the Blood War would not have happened.

"Hindsight is always perfect," he said aloud, a saying that had various versions in about a dozen different cultures. It was one of those strange universal observations. "What do you mean, you thought he was a Younger God?"

As I said, kitten, Val was very clever, she repeated. He was not entirely a Younger God, nor was he an Elder God, and we erred badly when we failed to realize this, because he wisely hid that aspect of his power from us. He wasn't as powerful as we were, but his power was formidable, almost equal to any one of us. But since he was weaker, we discounted him and his unusual state and allowed him to remain. When he got out of control, our mother, Ayise, attempted to destroy him by reclaming the life she had given to him, but she found that she could not. When that happened, we honestly weren't sure what would happen if we tried to destroy him in a direct confrontation, and we came to discover that the godhood granted by the Firestaff cannot be taken away, even by Ayise. Only the One God would have the power to strip the godhood away from Val, and in this, as in all things, he would not interfere. We had caused the circumstances of our own dilemma, so it was set upon us to fix it. About then, the Demons overran the world, and we needed Val's power to help turn them back. But we didn't forget that he was the reason they had come, and so we devised a suitable way to punish him for it. We granted our power to a mortal agent, Spyder, and it was she that turned our power against him, bound him into his icon, and stripped him of what made him on a level with us. We turned him into a true Younger God, whose power depended on the faith of the mortals who worshipped him. In that way, we removed the threat he posed to the Balance without breaking any of the rules we had set for ourselves, and avoiding a direct confrontation that would have put the world, or what was left of it, in great peril. The One God was very pleased with our solution, she said in a dreamy kind of voice that reminded him of the way he sounded or felt when he was in awe of her. Perhaps even a god worshipped a god. Or in this case, the God.

Tarrin digested that, and found that it fit in with what he just read, and what he already knew. The Goddess had talked frankly with him about the Blood War, and some of the things about the gods, before. In that way, he felt privileged that she would tell him things that very few other mortals knew, or understood. Goddess only knew, he barely understood half of what she did explain. He mulled it over a bit more, then came to a rather shocking conclusion. "So, Val tricked you?" he asked in astoundment.

I've told you before, kitten, gods aren't infallible, she said in a winsome voice. Even Elder gods. Intelligence and wisdom aren't job requirements. It just takes being born into it. In that way, we're like a Royal family, whose only requirement is the right set of parents.

He'd heard her say things like that before, but he still couldn't believe it. She was a god. She was-a god! An all-powerful being whose abilities were so great that his mortal mind would be incapable of comprehending them! How could someone with that kind of power be tricked?

By someone with equivelent power, she told him with a silvery laugh. Power is not wisdom, kitten, though wisdom is itself a form of power. We all learned the hard way. We made our mistakes and grew wiser from them. That is how Val managed to use the Firestaff, but if anyone else does manage to succeed, we won't make the same mistake again. Because we've made that mistake once, and the world suffered for it.

He put the book in his lap, feeling his theological foundation shift a little bit to the left. In a way, it was a little shocking to know that his Goddess wasn't perfect, but on the other hand, there was a kind of familiarity to the idea that made him a little more endeared to her. To know that even the Goddess could make a mistake made him feel a little less infinitesimal.

That is a mark of true love, kitten, she told him with a luminous voice. That you would love me even for my mistakes makes your love stronger. You have no idea how happy it makes me.

"The happier, the better, Goddess," he said sincerely. "When you're happy, I'm happy."

Not all the time, but I appreciate the comment, she said winsomely.

"Mother, why hasn't Spyder come back? We're running out of time."

She's been busy with something else, she replied. Don't worry, she's taught you what you need to know. If she doesn't return, you're not going to suffer.

He accepted that without another word, and then went back to reading.

He spent much of the day, quite honestly, trying to stay awake to read. After the story about the creation of the races, the book went into great detail about where each race settled, what they did, and how they interacted with one another. Tarrin found it to be tedious, exhaustive in its attention to meaningless details, and quite boring. He drowsed through stories of the rise and fall of forgotten empires, prominent people in the past, and page after page of diplomatic maneuverings and political machinations. He was about to give it up when the door finally opened, and he looked up to see not Jesmind and Jasana, but Dolanna and Keritanima. Keritanima looked a bit haggard, with her cream-colored dress a bit askew, and Dolanna had a tear in one of the sleeves of her brown silk dress. Dolanna's expression was not very encouraging.

"What happened to you two?" he asked curiously, closing the book and setting it in his lap.

"I almost got mugged by Jinna Brent," Keritanima said sourly, closing the door after barking a short command to Szath in Wikuni, who was outside the door. "Well, brother, the Were-kin and the Centaurs are here. That's the good news."

"And the bad news?"

"The ki-zadun are killing troops on a forced march to end all forced marches. I just got the reports in from the Aeradalla. They'd have got them in yesterday, but they've been sending up flying monsters to attack the Aeradalla before they can report back in. They've got Demons whipping the army forward, and it looks like they don't care about how many they lose before they get here. They're going to be here, at the earliest, tomorrow night. At the lastest, the day after tomorrow."

That made Tarrin's face take on a stony expression. Tomorrow night, or two days. If anything told him that things were about to come to a head, that was it. Now, they knew they were coming. It wasn't guesswork anymore. They knew when they'd get here, and that put a huge urgency on everything. Suddenly, his taking the day off seemed to be a terrible mistake. There was so much to do, so much to prepare for, it seemed outrageous that he had decided to waste the day reading and sleeping.

"The Council is in hysterics," Keritanima went on with a frown. "The regent, I heard, fainted dead away when she got the report. At least Darvon and the general staff is keeping a cool head. They just issued the 'here they come, so get your butts moving' orders. We have most of the preparations completed, but there are a few loose ends yet."