Marked by Magic (The Baine Chronicles #4)(45)

So this is the famous Father Calmias.

“My children,” he said in booming voice, lifting his hands and beginning some kind of prayer. When everyone else began chanting along with him, I hurriedly tried to mouth the words, hoping my ‘buddies’ wouldn’t notice. Judging by the words, which talked about our status as the Ur-God’s favored children, and that we would always be safe in the shelter of his arms so long as we followed his tenets, and so on, I gathered this was a basic opening prayer that all humans were supposed to know by heart.

Of course, if I’d known I was going to be infiltrating an Ur-God temple, I would have researched this ritual beforehand. But this had been sprung on me before I’d even gotten out of bed, and I was woefully unprepared.

Thankfully, Manson and his friends seemed too caught up in the spell of the moment to notice that I wasn’t actually saying the words aloud. A quick glance told me their eyes were glued to the preacher, so I mimicked them, not wanting to draw unwanted attention by being the only human darting my eyes around. The last thing I needed was for someone to come up and question me. Judging by how tight-knit these people seemed, if I mentioned my non-existent grandmother, they’d start asking nosy questions about her name and what neighborhood she lived in.

Once the opening prayer was finished, those in the congregation who were lucky enough to have garnered seats parked their behinds, and a reverent hush settled over the chapel. “My children,” Father Calmias said again. “I have spent much time in prayer lately, communing with the Ur-God in this sacred space, and he has given me fateful tidings to share with you. He knows that despite your faith in him, many of you are troubled by the recent wave of death and destruction, and wishes for me to assure you that all you see around you is part of His plan. Indeed, be of good cheer, for we are well on our way to achieving His plan for us, to re-establish humanity’s undisputed supremacy over this world. Have faith that He will let nothing stand in our way. Recca will be wiped clean of mages and shifters, as well as the stains they have left behind on our world. The Ur-god and we, his Children, will rule again!”

The congregation let out a series of whoops and cheers, and Father Calmias paused to let them have their moment. I slid my hands into my pants pockets to keep from clenching them or showing my claws, and focused on mimicking the reverent expressions that everyone else wore, instead of gaping in shock at the crazy preacher. Wiping the world clean of mages and shifters? I’d thought Manson was exaggerating last night, but apparently, he was completely serious. These humans really did want to wipe us off the face of the planet.

After the crowd had settled down, Father Calmias went on to explain that our temporary alliance with the shifters was necessary in order to get rid of the mages, who were the primary enemy – after all, shifters were only a nasty by-blow, an unfortunate product of evil spell craft that would have never come to be, if not for the mages. As soon as the mages were eliminated, the shifters would be taken care of.

He ended this uplifting sermon by urging the congregation not to give in to the mages’ insidious propaganda – the mages would try to tempt them back to their side with promises of food, gold, and jobs, but that was only a smokescreen to entice them into continued slavery. He told them to stay the course, that all freedom had a price, and that their faith and persistence would be rewarded very, very soon.

The entire congregation got to their feet with claps and cheers, praising the Ur-God and Father Calmias. I clapped and cheered too, but on the inside, I was sick to my stomach. Who was this preacher, with his powerful voice and charismatic personality, who was so blatantly urging the human population to support the Resistance? Was the Mages Guild aware the Ur-God Temple was promoting such a destructive, despicable doctrine? Presumably, this wasn’t the only temple in Canalo, or even the Federation, that was being fed this self-serving bullshit – Manson had said that Father Calmias was a famous preacher who traveled all over the Federation. Why had I never heard of this before?

I wanted to go up to Father Calmias and question him, to try and determine his probable ties to the Resistance, and maybe even the Benefactor. Unfortunately, the crowd of fervent worshipers who had gathered around him was too thick to penetrate without looking suspicious, so I followed the rest of the people instead, who were exiting the main hall through two side entrances.

It turned out that these side entrances led to two large rooms where the congregation could talk and socialize. The temple staff were circulating, sporting aprons over their white uniforms and carrying trays in their hands, and they served us coffee and refreshments. Grabbing a tall glass of iced tea from a passing staff member, I sipped it carefully as I walked around, listening to the snippets of conversation from the parishioners.

“I told you,” a woman was saying to her husband. They were a well-to-do couple, the woman dressed in a pale green dress and pearls, her husband in a suit. “I told you there was a reason behind the Resistance’s alliance with the shifter population. They’re not compromising our beliefs; they’re following the Ur-God’s clever plan.”

“I still don’t like the fact that our son is forced to fight side by side with shifters,” the husband said in a low tone. “They’re too emotional, too easily distracted. What if those mangy creatures decide to revolt? They’re a slave race, created to serve the mages, and I could easily see the Mages Guild figuring out some way to make them turn on us. Maybe that’s been the plan all along, and they’re just waiting for the right time to flip some kind of switch.”