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missed,” said Stehlen.
    â€œBecause dead people don’t need spare robes,” quipped Wichtig.
    â€œKept it quiet too,” pointed out Stehlen.
    â€œQuiet like a graveyard,” added the Swordsman.
    â€œDid it to throw them off our trail,” she extemporized. “If I’djust stolen robes, they might figure out why. In all the chaos, they won’t even notice the missing robes.”
    â€œDead people don’t notice much,” added Wichtig, looking thoughtful.
    Bedeckt grimaced. “You’re both insane. All I wanted was for you to steal some robes.”
    Wichtig gave Stehlen an appraising glance. “She makes sense to me.”

CHAPTER 6
    Theocracy is the art of thinking together.
    â€”K ONIG F URIMMER
    T he knight in the book Morgen read thought he was special. He certainly acted like he was special, though as far as Morgen could tell, he had yet to do anything of note. Sure, predictably enough the knight would eventually kill someone evil, but did this justify acting special now ?
    Everyone thought they were special, and maybe they were in some small way. Morgen couldn’t be sure; a lot of people seemed awfully not special. But he was special. Superspecial, and he knew it. He would be a god.
    Wait! Like the knight, I haven’t yet done anything particularly special . Was he special now, or would he be special later?
    There was a quiet knock on the door and the High Priest entered his study room. Morgen smiled up at Konig, who stood ramrod straight, arms crossed. The High Priest stared at him for several seconds before returning the smile. Strange how he doesthat. It’s like he has to decide to smile before anything happens on his face.
    â€œHow go your studies?” Konig asked, dropping the smile.
    Morgen glanced at the bookshelf and the books arranged there in a complex system involving their age, the color of the spine, subject, author, and how much Morgen enjoyed reading them. Aufschlag always said they were random, but they weren’t. Morgen grimaced at the books. The tome on the Menschheit Letzte Imperium . . . did its spine project just ever so slightly farther out than the other books? He leaned in and nudged it back. There, better . “Well,” Morgen answered finally. “Though this”—he held up the storybook he’d been reading—“probably doesn’t count as study.”
    Konig waved it away without looking at the book. “You’ll learn something from everything you read. Not all knowledge is to be found in great tomes.”
    That sounded wise. Could he truly learn something from even the lowest, most vulgar source?
    â€œAm I special?” Morgen asked.
    â€œOf course. You will be a god.”
    â€œI will be a god. I’m not one yet. Am I special now?”
    â€œYes, if just because of your potential. No one else has what you have.”
    â€œSo my potential makes me special.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œMy potential makes me special even if I don’t Ascend?”
    â€œYou will Ascend.”
    â€œBut if I didn’t?”
    â€œYou will,” Konig said, leaning forward to stare into Morgen’s eyes.
    Why does he always do that when he really wants me to believe something?
    â€œBut potential matters?” Morgen asked.
    Konig stood straight again, seemingly content he’d achieved something. “Yes, of course.”
    â€œSo if I meet someone with great potential, they’re special. Even if they never do anything with it.”
    â€œI’m not sure I’d word it like—”
    â€œWhat kind of god will I be?”
    The Theocrat blinked, eyebrows crinkling inward. “The right kind.”
    â€œWhat does that mean?”
    â€œYou’ll be the god the Geborene need.”
    That made sense. Their faith made him a god and so their faith would shape that god. He’d be what they thought he was.
    â€œWhat kind of god do the people think I will