We made our way down to the eighth floor. We passed no one on the way down, although the stone steps were worn and dented from much use. The temperature noticeably rose as we reached the bottom. Balmy.

Unlike the previous levels, there was only one door down here. It went from floor to ceiling, which must have been at least ten feet. No doorbell. Or knocker. Or handle. But there was a small black hole right in the centre.

The Guildmaster placed his mouth over the hole and spoke. Hello, God? His voice boomed out like like he was doing a mic check in a stadium. Its me, Master Garet.

We stood there waiting, me and Kizwat, the Guildmaster and his two men. We had dispensed with the Swayze fan club, for the time being at least.

Echoing footsteps could be heard on the other side, then a smaller panel in the door opened and a mans face appeared. He had very dark skin, big, chubby cheeks, a neatly trimmed afro with heavy sideburns and a thin moustache.

Oh, hello Garet. You look well. How are the wife and the family? He spoke in English, at least to my ear, but with a thick French accent. He came across as very mild-mannered and polite, which made me suspect he probably wasnt a native of France.

Theyre all fit and healthy, thank you, God.

You dont have to thank me, I had nothing to do with it. He let out a peal of girlish laughter. He looked past the Guildmaster at the rest of us, nodding and smiling. You have brought friends?

Yes, God, said the Guildmaster. This young man is Colin. He is another visitor who wished to meet you.

Oh. Gods eyes widened and his smile got bigger. Oh. Oh. Yes, yes. How wonderful. Come in, come in.

He closed the panel.

There was a clank. Then a grinding of gears. A few seconds later, the big door rose up into the roof.

If you please, follow me. God wore a knee-length tunic, like a kaftan, which billowed and swirled around him as he turned. It was so colourful it made your ears hurt.

The space behind the large door was empty and only led to another, normal-sized door, a few feet away.

God took out a bunch of keysI couldnt tell from whereand selected one to unlock the smaller door. He pulled the door towards him and then stood aside, motioning for us to go through.

We entered single file, the Guildmaster leading the way and me behind him. The room on the other side was not very big. There was a settee and two chairs, and a desk. More functional than decorative. Behind the desk was another door with a big wheel on it, like you find in submarines.

Please, sit, sit.

God closed the door and locked it again. I had expected guards and all sorts of security measures, but it appeared God didnt need protecting.

I grabbed one of the chairs while the Kizwat took the other. This left the Guildmaster and his cronies to squeeze themselves into the settee. They looked like theyd been invited around to someone elses grannys for tea and didnt know what to do with themselves.

Apologies. If I had known I was going to have so many guests I would have arranged for more chairs. Im not usually so popular, you know? He laughed again.

I didnt feel intimidated by him. He gave off no unpleasant vibes at all. This would normally make me suspicious, but in this case I remained relaxed and at ease. Possibly, I had reached anxiety fatigue, and my fear hormones had been completely depleted.

God sat down behind the desk. Now, before we get to why youre here, let me first ask you ah, Colin? Yes, Colin. Could it be you are with the group who came to visit me yesterday?

Yes, I said. They are my travelling companions. Or they were, until you locked them up.

Ah, well, he shrugged. Such is life. But tell me, did you come planning to rescue them? His question didnt sound menacing in any way, just interested.

Kind of. Id like to get them out if I can, but I dont really know what they did. It could be they deserve to be punished.

Yes, yes. It could be. Around Gods neck hung a pendant, a dark crystal on a gold chain. He rubbed it between thumb and finger. Could it be a magical item? The source of his ability to tell truth from lie?

Can I ask you something? I said.

Certainly.

What language are you speaking?

Why, French of course. Same as you.

Im speaking English.

Ah. His smile broadened. You just think youre speaking English. We all speak French here. It is, after all, Gods own tongue. He burst into laughter again. He obviously enjoyed his God puns.

So, youre French? Gullen had mentioned French visitors, but hed said theyd all died.

No, no. Quebecois.

Oh, Ive never met a black French Canadian before.

No, no, said God, a little less jovially. Quebecois.

Okay. Didnt seem like an issue I wanted to get into. So, theres a lot of stuff Id like to talk to you about, but first theres a small matter I was hoping you could help settle, if you dont mind.

Oh, yes? I am happy to help, if I can.

Great. I looked over at the Guildmaster who was squashed between his two attendants. I was starting to feel hopeful. This God fellow didnt seem too bad. I recently killed a Mouse King with a spike made by Kizwat here. I pointed at Kizwat seated on the other chair. He gave the spike to the Guildmaster, who promptly lost it. I was wondering if you could verify if the spike was genuine or not.

I see, said God. You killed the Mouse King with this spike, is that what youre claiming? He lifted the pendant up to his lips and began sucking on it.

Yes, I said.

God shook his head. But you and I both know that isnt true.

Shit.

There was a clear and definite change in the mood of the Guildmaster and his men. Jubilant, Id call it.

Er I said, Im pretty sure it is true. I was there when it happened.

No, no. It is very clear that you dont believe your own words.

Double shit. He was accusing me of lying. Obviously I wasnt lying, so that could only mean he was.

I sighed. It had always been the most likely outcome, so it wasnt really a surprise. Is there anyway to prove that youre not lying?

Of course, said God.

Not the answer I expected. There is?

The Guildmaster sat up, jostling his way free of the elbows pinning him back. It would be a very unreliable system if the Teller of Truths could simply choose when to be honest.

If I tell an untruth, said God, I will die. It is how the previous Teller met his end. God shook his head sadly.

But I thought I was told by Fucking Biadet. So, you really think Im lying about having killed a unique beast?

God looked surprised. Oh. A unique beast? Yes, that is true. You did kill a unique beast.

Now I was really confused. With the spike Kizwat made me?

Yes, yes. That is correct.

But you said I didnt kill the Mouse King.

Because you didnt. You certainly dont believe you did.

I sat there thinking about what hed just said. Your ability, it allows you to tell when someones lying.

Yes.

Even if they believe what theyre saying, you can still tell when their belief is incorrect.

Yes.

What if they dont believe something that is actually true? Is that a lie or not?

Oh. Let me think. God held the pendant between his teeth, pondering. So, someone boasts that they are a great swordsman when they know they are not, but in fact they truly are a great swordsman? Something like that?

Yes.

Hmm. I suppose that would show up as a lie. But what kind of delusional fool would think like that?

I put my head in my hands. What kind of fool, indeed. I rubbed my face to try and wipe away the humiliation crawling all over me. I dont think it worked.

I did kill the Mouse King, I said. That is a fact. But the truth is, it wasnt the scary monster everyone gave me credit for. It wasnt a gigantic beast all teeth and claws. It was a little mouse, quite old and frail, that I stabbed in the face until he was dead. Technically, it was the Mouse King, just in his refractory period when hes breeding and has no strength left for fighting.

I looked over at Kizwat who looked confused. Anger and disappointment would probably soon follow. The Guildmaster and his men were listening intently.

That might explain why the tests were inconclusive, said the Guildmaster. We would have to adjust the parameters to confirm what youre saying. But it is still, technically, a unique beast.

Yes, technically. But, in my heart, I dont feel like the killer of the mighty Mouse King. So its hard for me to accept in those terms. Do you think thats what youre picking up?

Quite. Quite, said God. Very interesting. I dont think Ive ever run into a case like this before.

Obviously your power was never intended for people full of doubt and self-loathing. Could probably use an upgrade.

You may be correct, said God. If only such a thing were possible. He chortled to himself. I had no idea about what.

Anyway, I said, trying to get the topic off me and my massive insecurities, the important thing is that you agree that the spike is genuine and I am the person it belongs to. So my friends who took it only reclaimed what was already ours, so they didnt really steal anything.

God looked confused. Im sorry, but your friends did not steal a spike. I have no spike here for them to steal.

Um, what now? Just when you think youre out, they pull you back in. I turned to the Guildmaster. You didnt hide the spike in Gods vault?

Of course not, said the Guildmaster. I told you, it was misplaced.

Ah, said God. No, no. I can see you believe that, but that is not what happened.

It was the Guildmasters turn to be confused. It wasnt misplaced? Then where did it go?

Yes, what did happen to it? I asked God.

He shrugged. That, I cannot say.

I was starting to think this power of his was a bit crap.

And my friends, what did they steal?

A ceremonial dagger belonging to another guild. It is worth quite a lot of money, but hard to sell, considering the guild it belongs to.

I dont suppose its the Lollipop Guild.

No. It is the Carpenters Guild.

Of course. It would be. For what possible reason would they have taken a ceremonial dagger? For no reason, obviously.

But Im sure my friends claim to have no idea how the dagger ended up in their possession.

Thats right.

One minute it wasnt there, the next, there it was.

Absolutely. They put it almost in those words exactly.

Spikes suddenly disappearing. Daggers appearing out of nowhere. Who did I know capable of vanishing in and out of thin air?

Fucking Biadet.