“What’s your choice?” asked Myra, impatient.
Galen cracked one eye open, just a bit. “Wait. I feel it. The Longing… tells me...” Then he stopped. During all of this, Galen studied Myra.
“We’ll be at the fork soon. You need to choose!” And there it was. She couldn’t help it. Myra’s eyes flicked to the left path.
Galen stood and announced, “Left.”
Myra was astonished. “Are you making that up? I think it actually is left! Are you finally feeling the pull of the temple? That's so wonderful!”
Guilt washed over Galen. It was a silly trick, especially to pull on his sister, but maybe it wasn’t a lie. Maybe he had the Longing and just didn’t feel it yet? The Longing was unpredictable. It could manifest during childhood, or later, or—for most people—never. Some candidates discovered their Longing during the testing at the temple itself. Galen refused to give up hope.
Myra continued, “If we both pass the testing, we can stay at Charity together! I could keep my promise to Mama.”
“I don't need my sister to look out for me,” said Galen.
“Oh, no?” asked Gusset. “Then who's going to stop me from doing this?” Gusset grabbed Galen in a headlock and started to wrestle. When the pair got too close, an annoyed Plaice tried to kick them away—but instead, they grabbed him and the three rolled around the wagon bed together. Myra sighed and returned to staring at the road.
“So, what's a testing like?” Galen asked Plaice. “Does it happen in a huge temple like a castle, with mysterious priests in robes? And they surround a statue of their god?” Galen's voice quickened as he lost himself in his own vision. His mind constructed the decorated walls, the exquisite statue, and the mysterious priests. It was spectacular. “And everyone goes up and touches the statue? And the god's voice booms from above and tells them if they succeeded.” The others gaped at him. “Or something, you know, like that?” He trailed off.
Plaice snorted, bursting Galen's vision. “You’re making up one of your stories in your head right now, aren’t you?”
Galen dropped his gaze.
“You are! You’re so weird. Everyone says so.”
Myra glanced at Plaice. “Be nice, Plaice. We’re stuck in this wagon together.” But she seemed distracted and immediately turned to face the front.
Gusset cleared his throat and said, “I dreamt last night it was a spelling test. I woke up sweating.”
“Ignorant idiots.” Plaice shook his head in disbelief. “I guess it’s up to me to educate you. So, every testing is different depending on the god, but they're all full of boring rituals and boring questions. That's just a show, you know, for the crowd. None of that matters. In the end, it all comes down to the final test. A test of your Longing.
“They give you a token to hold,” Plaice pointed to his palm. “They say that it tamps down the Longing. When I tested at Law, they gave me a rod. At Nature, it was a seedling.”
“The token kills the Longing?” asked Galen. “Isn't that the opposite of what they want to happen?”
“It doesn't kill the Longing, stupid. The Longing is still there, but the token is supposed to settle it down. They say that no one would sit still for the test otherwise. Everyone would be racing to find the god's Gift.”
“Then what?”
“Then the real test. The only one that matters. They tell you to channel the Longing through the token. That's how you activate it.”
Galen was confused. “The Longing is a feeling, right? How do you channel a feeling through anything?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Plaice raised an eyebrow.
Galen frowned. “I think you would, too. You’ve failed at more temples than I can count. All that gold, wasted.”
“Oh yeah? We’ll see if it was wasted at today’s testing.” Plaice sneered at Galen. “I learn something every time, and I think I’ve got it figured out.”
“Is it something you ‘figure out’, though? I don’t think the testing works that way.”
“You’ll see. When my plan pays off, I'll be swimming in gold.” Plaice swung his gaze to the driver, banged on the rails of the wagon, and yelled, “This trip is taking forever. How much longer? Can't you speed up? Is that horse as old as you?”
As if noticing his passengers for the first time, Carnaubas snarled over his shoulder at them.
“Be quiet, Plaice,” said Galen, shaken. “I'm sure it's not too much further. Myra, what do you think?”
Myra didn't respond. Her hands were locked on the front of the wagon. She was panting. Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead.
“Myra? Myra, are you feeling all right?”
“This is it,” she panted. “The temple is just ahead. Can you feel it?”
“Sure,” Galen replied, but Myra was not listening. She was lost in some religious rapture.
A malicious cackle erupted from Carnaubas. “Your sister's got it bad, and it’s only going to get worse the closer we get to the temple. Strongest Longing I’ve seen in years. Mark me: she’s the only one in this wagon that has any business testing at Charity.”
“You don’t know that!” responded Galen.
“Oh, really?” The driver spat, clearly a habit. The spittle arched into the forest. “The girl's a natural—that's obvious—but you're just playing make-believe. You're even worse than these other idiots because you claim to feel the Longing. Tell the truth: you made that up, right?”
Galen was stunned. The old driver was famously cranky, but Galen didn't expect this kind of treatment. “That doesn't mean anything. Some people find faith only when they test…”
“That's just what they say so suckers like young Plaice here will keep paying up. You think you could be a priest of Charity? Seriously?” He laughed so loud, it broke into a cough. “You three won't find faith there in a million years. Gold's wasted on trash like you boys. Your futures couldn't be plainer.”
He pointed to Gusset and said, “Pig farmer. You shouldn’t be surprised.”
To Plaice, he said, “Oh, you're going to hit the wall hard, boy. Debt's coming for you.” All three shuddered. No one would wish debt on another. If a family couldn't pay the monthly tithe, the debt would be offered to any religion willing to pay it. In return, the person became property of that religion. Once the Law came to collect you, there was no way out.
“But, you,” he continued to Galen. “You’re the worst. In your mind, you can’t possibly be just a stupid fisherman’s kid, right? So you pretend you’re better than everyone with your stories. You’re a liar. You know where liars like you end up? The dungeons of Evil.”
Galen stammered, “Wh… What?”
“You’re not right in the head.” Carnaubas tapped his temple. “In the old days, they would have said you were touched by Chaos. Sooner or later, they’ll take you away.”
What was he talking about? Were people like Galen really taken away? Was Galen going crazy? Carnaubas was older than dirt, so he may know more than Galen—but no. It was more likely that he was just a horrible old man who liked to yell at children, and Carnaubas wasn’t well known for telling the truth himself.