know what to do. The guards are scattering through the woods, but there's still far too many of them. As I watch, Bad Aron finds a sword, and the wizard moves toward the fire, pulling a pouch from his belt. He stands near it and closes his eyes, reaching for what looks like a purple dust and begins to sprinkle it in the fire.
He begins to chant, and a strange smoke begins to curl up from the fire. If he was a fake wizard, he wouldn't bother. This must be the real thing, and I suspect that spell isn't going to be anything good. He keeps murmuring words, his hand waving over the fire, and the smoke begins to move in a pattern that looks completely unnatural.
Full of panic, I do the only thing I can think of—I throw one of my rocks at him.
I peg the guy right square in the middle of the forehead. The wizard grunts and hesitates, and for a moment I think he's going to come for me. Instead, he falls onto his back and lies still.
I've knocked him out.
Hot diggity. I didn't know my aim was that good. I bite back a laugh of pure delight, because I need to stay silent. As I watch, Bad Aron moves to the side of his fallen wizard, touches the bloody mark square in the middle of his forehead, and then glances up into the trees, looking directly at me.
A new kind of panic hits me, and I squeeze my eyes shut so he doesn't see me. The darkness will hide me, I tell myself. There's nothing to worry about.
"I don't know you're there," he says in a low, deadly voice I recognize. "You can either come down now and let me take a look at you, or I won't make your death spectacularly unpleasant."
My throat goes dry. I swallow hard, thinking. Will it even do any good to pretend I'm not up here? I clear my throat and then manage, "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather stay where I am. I love the view and all.”
Bad Aron rises to his full height. ”I am not the Lord of Storms. I can't destroy that tree with a single bolt of lightning," he says, voice utterly calm. "Think hard on how you would like to die."
I clutch the bag of rocks to my chest, terrified. I don’t want to die at all, and yet it seems like I can’t avoid my life being put in jeopardy no matter what I do. Freaking arrogant Aron and his arrogant, stupid plan. Rocks in trees, for Pete’s sake. I pause, stalling the inevitable. "You won't hurt me if I come down?"
“I promise.”
I slide down a few branches, skittery with panic. Think, Faith, think. The wizard must be still breathing, or else Bad Aron would be dead. The woods are silent—too silent—and I worry that my Aron has been taken out or incapacitated. It’s up to me to kill the wizard, which is going to be downright tricky given that I’ve got nothing but a bag of rocks and he’s got a god standing over him.
Maybe I can distract this Aron long enough that I can…do something. What, I don’t know. Something. I move down another branch or two, and then I remember just before I hit the lowest branch—did he say he would hurt me or wouldn’t hurt me? “Wait—”
Bad Aron stalks over to my tree, lightning fast, and jerks on the edge of my cloak. I tumble from the tree, flopping onto my back. Pain shoots through my ribs, and I groan, clutching at them.
He looms over me where I lie on the ground, tilting his head as if I’m some weird sort of science experiment. Then, he goes down to one knee and grabs me by the throat. Not hard, just pinning me. His thumb moves against my jaw, forcing my head to turn as he studies my features. “Not what I would have picked.”
“Bitch please,” I manage, coughing. “I’m amazing.”
Bad Aron’s brows go up and a smile curls his hard mouth. “I fail to see the appeal now. It is good we meet under such circumstances. I imagine you make the most unpleasant companion.” His voice is whispery soft, and my body responds despite the situation. I can feel my nipples prick, and his eyes regard me with such familiarity that I feel a sudden, stupid urge to kiss him. Or to let him kiss