"Oathkeepers are integral to a Courier's work."

Hermes and Rashad sat alone at a small table in a room that branched off from the bridge. Hermes sipped at a warm mug of tea, and he had mostly calmed down, but he couldn't seem to keep his hands from shaking.

"What the hell are they?"

"You are familiar with the concept of a Reaper?"

"What, like the Grim Reaper?"

"He is their captain." Rashad nodded. "Reapers and Oathkeepers are variations – breeds, really – of the creature we call Death."

Hermes gave him an incredulous look. The Grim Reaper was a myth. A symbol. Something like that. Right? But goblins weren't supposed to be real either. And Rumble seemed real enough. Hermes sighed and pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. This cannot be happening, he thought. But it is, isn't it? I've got to stop acting like this isn't real.

"Look, I need to know what's going on," he said, lifting his eyes again. "I don't care how long it takes. Tell me everything."

Rashad was quiet for a moment, then he nodded, stood, and motioned to a broad piece of parchment tacked to the wall. It showed a large spiral drawn in black ink, and scattered along the spiral, tiny dots, each marked with a number. A legend along the parchment's left side listed names next to these numbers. Many of the dots had only question marks for names.

"This is a map of the Infinite Spiral, and a poor one, at that, but it is all that we have," Rashad said. He pointed to some of the dots. "Each dot represents a Node: a distinct universe. The blank space between them is called Voidspace. This Spiral continues on forever, and thus, there are an infinite number of worlds, no two exactly alike."

Rashad pointed to the very center of the spiral. Hermes noted that this Node was marked with a star instead of a dot. "This Node is called the Hub. It is the very tiniest of Nodes, no larger than a small city, but it is perhaps the most important. Every other Node – your homeworld, mine – are variations of the Hub. The Hub is the wellspring of worlds. And until recently, it was the home of the Couriers. Any questions thus far?"

"Lots. But I'll save them. Go on," Hermes said. Where is my world on this thing? For that matter, where are we?

"The lust for power and wealth pervades all sentient beings, no matter where they come from," Rashad said. "For the most part, each Node would be left to its own devices to deal with its tyrants on its own terms, and most beings never become powerful enough to escape their own Node and become a threat to the rest of the Spiral."

Hermes saw where this was going.

"But if there's an infinite number of worlds...there's infinite possibility, right?"

Rashad nodded.

"You catch on quickly, my young friend. Occasionally, on far flung Nodes, beings are birthed with immortality and incredible power – you might even call them gods. The Couriers were founded to keep such beings in check and prevent them from taking over other Nodes."

A god? The word conjured images of old, white-bearded men flinging lightning from the sky and summoning great civilization-destroying floods. How do you possibly stop a god? Hermes was struck by a sudden sense of dread, like heavy cold lump, deep in his chest.

"We were given the Edict," Rashad replied, as if reading his thoughts. "I cannot tell you what the Edict is, or where it comes from. Perhaps the Spiral senses a threat to its well-being, and creates it. I do not know. But anytime an Immortal becomes aware of the Spiral, the Edict appears at the Hub."

Rashad sat back down at the table, pulled his pipe from beneath his cloak, and began packing it with tobacco. Hermes pulled the Edict from his pocket, and placed it on the table. It looked like a simple paper envelope, but now that he held it in his hands and focused on it, he could feel a certain power emanating from it. Rashad watched him quietly, then lit his pipe, and puffed it.

"The Edict is a weapon of words," he said, finally. "When read to its intended recipient, it strips that being of their immortality and powers, reducing them to a mere man, no different than you or I."

"Wait. So that's it?" Hermes sat back in his chair and held the envelope up between two fingers. "All you have to do is go read this Edict thing to some guy? So why the Creed and those Oathkeeper freaks?"

"The Spiral is a very large place, Hermes," Rashad said. He sounded amused. "Think of your own Node...how far away from your world was the nearest star?"

"Far. I dunno. Millions of miles or something." Hermes shrugged. He felt dumb. Of course. If each Node is an entire universe, then the Spiral must be huge.

"The distance from one Node to another is greater still, and the further out into the Spiral you go, the greater the distance between Nodes." Rashad rapped the tabletop with his knuckles. "This ship can enter Voidspace, and once there, reach surprising speeds, but even our fastest vessel could take months or years to reach a Node far out on the Spiral. We needed a way to reach any Node instantaneously."

Rashad puffed on his pipe, and exhaled a ring of smoke. It floated lazily towards the ceiling, and Hermes watched it rise.

"Mercurius, one of the founding Couriers, came up with the solution. Death, like Greed, is a constant throughout the Spiral. All living bodies die, except Immortals. But where do spirits go when the body dies?"

"The Spiral is a whirlpool." Hermes blinked at himself. The words had been out of his mouth before he even realized what he was saying. But it made sense. What other reason for the spiral structure? Rashad confirmed Hermes' suspicion with a nod.

"Exactly. All spirits return to the Hub," Rashad said. "Mercurius knew this meant that Death had to have some mechanism to reach anywhere in the Spiral instantly. Mercurius searched the entire Hub until he found the gateway into Death's domain, and there, he struck a bargain with the Grim Reaper."

The bearded man sucked on his pipe again, then exhaled a cloud of smoke.

"It is a mutually beneficial relationship," he said. "The Couriers receive the tools needed to perform their task – namely, the ability to travel via Waypaths. And once the Edict is delivered, the Reapers can claim a soul that would otherwise be lost to them."

"Where do the Oathkeepers fit in?"

Rashad frowned. "Death was not satisfied with the bargain. What if a Courier were tempted by an Immortal, bribed with money or power to not deliver the Edict? Such an event would be disastrous. So, the Grim Reaper enforced a rule. Every Courier who carried the Edict would be accompanied by an Oathkeeper. If the Courier refused to deliver the Edict, the Oathkeeper would claim his soul."

The Oathkeeper's hollow eyes and sharp grin leapt back into Hermes' mind. He could almost feel the edge of the knife pressed against his throat. He glanced down at the Edict in his hands, suddenly feeling very small and inconsequential.

"Only the bearer of the Edict swears the Courier's Creed, but any of us are prepared to take up that mantle should the Edict bearer fail." Rashad reached into his cloak and pulled out a folded white bandana. He placed it on the table. "We wear the white kerchief as a mark of solidarity, pledging our support to the Edict bearer. You must deliver the Edict yourself, Hermes Swift, but we will be along to help in any way we can."

Hermes' eyes fell to the folded scrap of cloth on the table. This is the only way I'm going to get home, he thought. But what if I'm not strong enough to deliver the Edict? I don't want to die. He sighed. But what choice do I have? His thoughts drifted back to the events in the post office. Had Angelo felt the same fear? He must have. And yet, Angelo had still sworn to deliver the Edict.

Hermes tucked the Edict into his pocket, picked up the bandana, and tied it around his throat. He lifted his gaze to meet Rashad's calm, amber eyes.

"Tell me about Arcadias."