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the attack on Kalavan was the work of only a few isolated individuals, nothing more. But in our hearts, we all know how tired their excuses have become.”
    Before the crowd exploded again, Amaya decided it was time to try and slide closer to her employer. She wouldn’t dare interrupt one of his speeches, but she did need to get his attention the moment it was over. He would undoubtedly be pleased with his performance, but she knew his response to the message she had just received from Lushden would be less…enthusiastic.
    Chaval stepped in front of the podium, his eyes narrowing. “Two hundred years ago, just before the dawn of our independence, the magi destroyed the small, helpless nation of Vakar. They killed tens of thousands of people, but the Enclave assured us it was merely the fault of a single reckless lunatic. Fifty years ago, the world watched as the Talami warlords wrought final devastation to their own nation, and again the Enclave insisted it was merely the work of a handful of fanatics. And then, only a year ago, we all stood by in horror as thousands of our brothers and sisters were ruthlessly cut down by yet another rogue mage—and once more the Enclave has the audacity to tell us that it was an isolated incident.”
    He shook his head, and his voice darkened. “Well, I say we have endured enough accidents. I say the Goddess has been sending us a message for hundreds of years, and we have simply ignored it. Her Fane is not a tool for us to use; it is a treasure we must protect. It is time we learned to leave it alone.”
    Amaya pushed past several of the other guards to stand at the side of the stage. She didn’t want to distract him, but she knew this speech would be coming to a close soon and she wanted to be ready. She needed to catch his eye before he was swallowed by the horde of quasi-worshippers. It happened often enough she’d come to expect it.
    “A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity stands before us, my friends, and I am proud to see we are embracing it,” Chaval went on. “Instead of twisting the Fane to our selfish purposes, we are learning to be self-sufficient. We are creating a new way of life—a life of innovation, progress, and wonders we have never dreamt of before. My parents never ventured more than a few kilometers outside their home town in their entire lives, and now you and I can ride a train across the whole of Arkadia in only a few days. My grandmother lost her hand to a backfiring musket in the Polerian War, but now our soldiers fight with reliable and powerful weapons that are the envy of the entire world.” He swiveled his eyes back and forth across the crowd, his tone sobering. “And when I was diagnosed with Hulen’s Disease only three years ago, a doctor was able to cure me with medicine and science. Because of the efforts of men and women like you, every day we liberate ourselves from our dependency upon the Fane. And soon we will be able to stand alone. May the Goddess bless you all.”
    Standing a mere fifteen meters away, Amaya expected to be able to catch Chaval’s eye easily, but within seconds of his last word he had already been swallowed by a throbbing mass. Reporters from every newspaper in the country swarmed over him like parasites, and his immediate bodyguards did their best to give him some distance. She sighed to herself and decided to take a different approach—looking at the crowd below, she found the evening’s guest of honor, Harold Varm, and veered off toward him and the other distinguished inventors.
    She had always found it oddly amusing that despite the near saint-like status most of the Dusties endowed upon men like Varm, the crowds typically mauled Chaval instead and left the actual inventors alone. Tonight was no different. Varm and the others sat alone at a table in the back of the dining hall, and Amaya was able to get close to them without much difficulty. The band in the corner struck up an annoyingly upbeat melody, and many of the