Zharna was one of the few favorites of the “Gutter Gods,” as they were called. They were a minor pantheon for the downtrodden, untoward, capricious, and daring. Even dark deeds need a guiding hand.

Not a popular god with followers or opponents, Zharna did grant blessings and boons from time to time. Though the ages have stretched since a champion stood in their name, it was mostly due to Charms wriggling out of it again. There’s a reason why the nickname “Ninetails” stuck in the city of Yiz for the apostate of the Caracal-faced god.

***

The rooftops around him rustled with the wind and lines of clothes. Charms recalled a pleasant memory from his youth: a young maiden rode him gently as she tried a milk-soft hand at poetry. The verses were muddled through the years, but he remembered a line, “and he shined like the sun, and I the moon. But he belongs to all where I only belong to him— and no one at all.”

Neither the courtship nor her career in poetry lasted long. Charms fiddled with his talisman before returning his attention to the crowd. The suzerain had called the public to hear his latest decree, and Charms kept a careful eye on the skies over the balcony from which he spoke.

A short, white-robed man with the physique of a dumpling, Charms always found the city’s leader wanting. In truth, the suzerain was closer to a date: small, brown, and shriveled. But beware to those who bite, unaware of the pit in the middle. Cloying sweet, and full of pomp as he was, the suzerain hadn’t been the leader of Yiz for forty years for nothing.

“Can’t all be melon tits and rose water,” he muttered as he drew back on the crank. His ballista made a slight whine as he readied it. He waited for the brothers to make their move.

Down a different street, the three Ouali brothers finished shoveling in a dark basement. Moisture stained the dirt, and mud stuck to their shovels as they dug closer to the city's bedrock. Their grunts were muffled by the scarfs they kept wrapped around their heads. It wouldn’t do to be caught now. Not with Charms waiting on them. A sharp clang sounded. They’d done it.

“What do we do now?” the tallest brother asked. A lean figure hunched over in the pit looked at the middle brother expectantly.

“We drop the package in, light the fuse, and get out of here before anyone sees us. I don’t want to leave Yiz if I can help it.” Both the shortest and tallest brothers nodded along. The middle one scrambled out of the pit and grabbed a rough canvas bag. He checked the contents inside before gesturing at the other two to get out of the pit.

The shortest dithered with his shovel— looking up at the middle one, “Am I just supposed to leave this?”

“I’m about to light this, but you’re asking me about your shovel?” The middle one hissed as he hoisted the bag up at his brother. The taller one had already clambered out of the pit, shaking his head at the shortest one.

“But-”

“Leave the damn thing. We can get more shovels,” the middle brother lit the fuse that led to the bundle in the bag. The shortest one let out a yelp and scurried up the side and over to the taller brother. The bag landed in the pit with a squelch, and all three hurried out of the room and onto the busy streets of Yiz. Silent prayers moved on the lips of all three as they begged Zharna to cast a friendly eye on them.

Elsewhere in the city, a weaver moved rainclouds across the desert. A spearpoint sat cherry red at a forge for three days. The echoes of lullabies crept in the shadows of pomegranate trees. The cataclysm swirled through the air along with the spices, smoke, shit, and slurry as life kept on moving.

Charms felt a yellow buzz fly up his spine. He stood motionless, hands still on the ballista, waiting. “I didn’t realize you’d visit before it finished.”

“I’ve always enjoyed watching you work,” Zharna said, her voice a soft purr. Charms tried not to shiver. His god had never directly watched him before. He wondered what else she’d seen. “Will it be quick?”

“It’s up to the brothers work,” Charms frowned. “I hope so.” An enormous boom suddenly hit the air. Charms struggled to keep his footing as the air filled with dust and smoke. Confused screams cut through the crowd as the sound of shifting earth brought Charm’s ballista back up. He took a deep breath as he spied the suzerain crouched behind two bodyguards. He pulled the trigger and saw the suzerain jerk once before collapsing onto the guard in front of him. His robe darkened like spilled wine. Another purr filled the air, but Charms was already dropping into the small courtyard. He checked for errant eyes and found none before continuing through the garden and into the street. It looked like he owed a couple of brothers some money.