Unity Faithweaver's Arc

Chapter 4 of 4

Unity reached the cathedral at dusk. A golden cross crowned the high stone roof. Stained glass caught the last light. She stepped through the doors with her hand on her chest, where Lucifer's fear still pulled. But inside, the pull broke apart. The cold thread split in two. One line tugged toward a scattered ground of worn relics outside. The other tugged toward a dark house down the hill. Lucifer was not here. The place that cast him out held only his echo. She stood in the empty nave and tried to feel which way was true. Both pulls felt the same. Both felt cold. She pressed harder against her chest. The fear only grew louder in both directions. Footsteps crossed the stone. JC came through the side door, golden light soft around him. He had followed her from the gathering. He did not kneel. He looked at her plainly. "He is not here," Unity said. "The fear splits. I cannot tell which way is real." JC walked to the altar. He touched the cold stone. "I have been run out of towns," he said. "The fear points two ways because he does. Part of him went where they still keep his things. Part of him went where they hate him." He looked at her. "One pull is the man. One is the wound." "Which is which?" Unity asked. "I don't know the man," JC said. "I told you that already." He did not explain it twice. Unity closed her eyes. She felt the two threads again. One pull led to the relic ground, where old gods still sat among offerings. That was comfort. That was a place that wanted a god. The other pull led to the dark house with broken windows. She had seen red letters on its front as she passed. Non-Believers. She understood then. A cast-out god would not sit among kept relics. He would go where he was named a thing to fear. He would go toward the wound, not away from it. "The house," Unity said. "He went toward the people who deny him. That is where he fits now." JC nodded once. "Then go." Unity walked out of the cathedral and down the hill. The relic ground glowed warm on her left, candles burning among the worn fragments. She did not turn toward it. She followed the colder thread instead. She reached the dark house. Tattered windows gaped. The red word Non-Believers bled across the boards. The fear in her chest went quiet and sure. She had chosen right. Only one pull remained now, and it led inside. She pushed the broken door open. In the dark sat a red figure with horns and a sharp tail. He did not rise. He did not look surprised. "You found me," Lucifer said. "Most people stop at the door." Unity stepped inside. She still carried his fear. Now she had to give it to him.