“You had to clear everyone out of this room so you could ask me what an anchor is?” He crosses his arms over his chest, stance arrogant as if he’s not buck naked in front of me. It takes everything I have to maintain eye contact, because every time he moves, the jiggle of his hog is distracting.
“No, I cleared everyone out of the room to protect us. The less they know about you and me, the better. They’re probably spying for the prelate.”
He grunts. “I would be surprised if they are not.”
“So let’s pretend I’m new here. What does an anchor do? Something tells me it’s more than just fetching your slippers.”
The god’s eyes narrow at me. “How can you not know?”
“Do you not know either?”
His mouth thins into a firm line and he’s silent. “There are some things I seem to have forgotten.”
“Well, shit.” It’s the blind leading the blind around here. I can’t blame him, though. It sounds like there’s a lot that’s new to him and he wasn’t the one that came up with the whole “anchor” thing. It’s obvious that the prelate knows what’s going on, but I’m also pretty damn sure he’s the last person we want to admit a vulnerability to. “Okay, first things first, we need to find someone that will tell us what we need to know. Is there any place you can think of where they’d be loyal to you and open to telling the truth?”
His ice-pale eyes narrow and he looks furious. “Loyalty? This is my temple. Why would they not be loyal to me?”
I move closer to him because he’s getting loud. “Look, just between you and me, the prelate? That expression on his face was not loyalty. You embarrassed him in front of his people. He doesn’t know what to do with you, and I worry it’s going to be something bad. He doesn’t like you. I think he only obeyed you because it was in public.”
“I am a god.” His eyes blaze with anger.
“I thought you were mortal? Or an Aspect, right? That’s what it is.” I snap my fingers. “Do you have all your powers as an Aspect?”
His jaw clenches and he glares fire at me.
“Any of them?”
“Mortal,” he says in a warning tone.
I raise my hands in the air, determined not to get frustrated. “I’m asking because I need to know what we’re working with. You’re a storm god, can you call down thunderstorms and shoot lightning at people? If you can, then all my worrying is for nothing.” And really, I’d feel better knowing he’s got massive loads of power and is just choosing restraint and pissy attitude to keep people in line.
Aron’s jaw clenches, the scar on the left side of his face flexing. “I…” He shifts on his feet and then gives me his fiercest scowl. “I do not think I can.”
My spirits plummet. I suspect he’s just as wimpy as me in this form, with only a cool thunder soundtrack to make him seem impressive. “Can I ask why you were booted out of heaven?”
“The Aether,” he corrects.
Apparently he knows that much. “Okay, the Aether. How come you were kicked out of it?”
His mouth flattens. “The High Father was not pleased with how I handled my duties. I am being punished.” He says the words as if they taste bad.
“But there’s a way to get back, right? If there’s a way for you to get home, there’s a way for me to get home, too.” He doesn’t answer me, and I wonder if he knows any of this. “Okay,” I mutter to myself, twisting my hands as I think. “Okay, as long as we know our limits, we’ll work with it. I gather you don’t know much about sleeping, either. Or eating or drinking. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
He shakes his head.
Well, that makes one of us. Despite the fact that I pigged out in the main hall, I could still eat. Probably stress related, I suspect. I ignore it for now. “Have you ever been mortal before—”
The look in his eyes flares like I’ve given him a grave insult. “I am not mortal. I am an Aspect.”
“Okay.” I clasp my hands together, because I’m being patient, I really am. “Narrow down for me the difference between an Aspect and a mortal.”
Aron glares at me. “I owe you no explanation.”
Probably because he doesn’t know himself. “You’re right, you don’t. But it would really, really help me out if you told me,