is.
It feels like so many things are clicking into place. I think of Tadekha and how Aron wanted nothing to do with her. I think of her with her angel servant between her thighs. That would be Hedonism. Maybe that's why I rubbed myself all over Aron like a dick addict. God. I can feel myself blushing. "This makes sense," is all I say to Omos. “But your math is off. Twelve gods and four Aspects per god means forty-eight gods, doesn’t it?”
“Normally, yes. But the Spidae—the three fates—are never counted when the Aether is purged. Even the High Father must leave some things alone.” He smiles. “The other eleven gods are not subject to the same rules.”
It sounds like a damn mess to me. “But this Anticipation thing—it’s happened before?”
He nods. "Oh yes. At least twice in recorded history. The four Aspects of each god are scattered across the lands, never too close to one another."
Ah. It's happened twice before just like this, right. Still, this all seems kind of a strange thing to do. "Okay, but why split them and cast them out? So the copies can all learn life lessons and shake hands and learn how to be better people or something? This is all very After School Special and all, but it seems a bit convoluted if you ask me. I mean, if they're dicks, tell them not to be dicks."
I mean, I've met Tadekha and she was a huge dick. A big, manipulative dick. Aron's a dick too, but in an entirely different way. I nibble on a piece of cheese as I wait, studying him.
Omos blinks at me as if I've said something puzzling. "What?"
"You know, agree to be better people? Meet up with each other, shake hands and walk away?"
"Shake hands? No, no. He's casting them out, my dear. He doesn't want them back. There are four Aspects and if Aron wants to return to the heavens, one Aspect must destroy the other three."
I stare at him in shock. "What?"
"In order to live, Aron must kill the other three Arons."
23
I wiggle a finger in my ear and then shake my head. "I'm not sure I heard you correctly."
"You did," Omos says with a sigh. "One Aspect must kill the others. Once that is accomplished, the other is free to return to the heavens at the High Father's side, where his dominant flaw will be tempered by the disposal of the other three."
I can't believe what I'm hearing. This is the most ridiculous, crazy thing. "So they split Aron into four pieces just so he can murder the other three?"
"It is a cleansing of the soul for a god." Omos inclines his head. "I can research and find which of the Aspects defeated the others on the last Anticipation, if you like."
I'm not sure I want to know. What if this Aron—my Aron—gets defeated every time? "But how…Aron fell from the sky when we left the Citadel. A long way, and I fell on top of him but he wasn’t hurt. I'm not sure he can die."
"He is eternal," Omos agrees. “He does not age, does not get sick, and cannot be killed by normal means.”
"Then how is it that one Aspect is going to kill the others?"
Omos gives me a gentle look that makes my stomach churn.
Oh no. Well, that explains why everyone keeps trying to kill me. “I’m the target,” I say flatly. “Not Aron. He doesn’t have to kill the other Aspects, he has to kill their anchors.”
Omos’s voice is gentle. "An Aspect is vulnerable only through his anchor. He—or she—is the tie that binds him to mortality. She must eat for him, sleep for him, and perform all mortal functions on his behalf since he cannot. He gets his strength through her. And if she is destroyed…" He lets his words trail off.
"No more Aron," I say faintly. I set my food down, no longer hungry at all. In fact, I feel dangerously close to vomiting. No wonder no one else wanted to volunteer to be Aron's anchor. The odds are three out of four that I'm going to die horribly at the hands of Aron. Not Arrogant Aron, but one of the other flaws.
Fuck me, this is such a mess.
"Aron said he didn't know. Was that a lie?" I look at Omos, trying to understand all of this. "He doesn't remember about anchors, but he knew to protect me from others."
Omos nods thoughtfully. He notices that I'm no longer