was dying, on this side of the Veil and back at Endurance House, too.
Red flares, graal energy, exploded through the clouds, as if to divide Aron from his attackers, but Aron knew Nic couldn’t help him, wherever Nic might be. No one could help him now. He couldn’t even muster the will to help himself.
The hand of the lady inched closer.
Aron lowered his head, knowing he should do something, but unable to understand what that something might be.
“Leave me alone,” he whispered. “I want nothing to do with you and the death you deal. Leave me be!”
The lady’s laugh was the worst thing he had ever heard. The sound seem to tear his ears from his head and crush what little hope he had left in his squeezing, struggling heart.
You’re mine, she said privately, to no one but him. Now at least you understand that, and we can dispense with these foolish pretenses.
Aron turned his cheek before she could touch him—and something burst through the sky, letting out a soul-chilling hiss as it came, swaying and knocking the would-be goddess onto her backside. Through his fading awareness, Aron managed to perceive the huge black head, the venomous fangs, and the blazing emerald eyes he had seen once before.
Hood snake. Snakekiller’s essence on this side of the Veil. This time, the snake was twice as furious, and twice as large as he remembered, with its coils wrapped firmly around a glowing ruby egg. Power seemed to flow from that egg, joining with the snake and imbuing it with even more force and form than Aron thought was possible.
The lady scrambled to her feet, eyes wide.
The snake’s hood spread wide as it warned the lady off her egg, and seemingly off Aron, too.
The lady and her companions staggered back from the image, but they didn’t flee.
Not until the snake was joined by a new image.
A Sabor appeared, easily as big as the snake and much more real, carrying long silver daggers in both blue fists. Iko strode past the snake, walking on the clouds like they were made of the firmest dirt and rock.
The lady swore at him, then ran, vanishing as she passed the man and the stag.
Iko reached the fake god of death first, raised one of his daggers, and brought it down with a swiftness that startled Aron.
Before the blade struck home, the stag and the man burst into sparkles and disappeared.
When Iko turned to regard Aron, the snake and egg vanished as well, as if they had never appeared.
“Return with me now,” Iko commanded, and Aron lifted the essence of his wrist for Iko to grab. He felt the electric jolt of contact, then a sweeping rush of speed as the Sabor once more set off across the clouds, heading straight back for Triune.
• • •
Aron came back to himself in Endurance House, shaking and coughing and feeling a beyond-painful cold, like someone had dipped his skin in ice water.
Iko was seated beside him, and was indeed pouring water on Aron’s face. Two silver daggers lay beside his leather-clad blue legs, and the Sabor had opened the room’s door and window to admit as much light as the space and design would allow.
“That boy,” Iko whispered, clearly distressed. “His body. You—I didn’t imagine—I never thought to see anyone who survived injuries like that.”
“We have to go back.” Aron’s teeth chattered. “We have to get to Nic and Snakekiller before they do. Those false gods.”
Iko responded by standing, sheathing his daggers, then pulling Aron to his feet. Determination fueled and powered Aron, though he felt near to physical collapse. Blood beat against his ears, hot in his throat and chest, and his breath came shorter with each ragged gasp. He caught the salty scent of his own sweat, but the smell of woods and grass clung to his mind, a remnant of where Nic and Snakekiller had been when he left them.
Like two parts of the same body, Aron and Iko hurried out of Endurance House, past Markam, who made no attempt to stop them, or even to speak.
Aron realized that was probably because Iko was in the process of shifting, his blue skin sprouting fur and claws and feathers with each step they took. By the time they reached the byway separating Endurance House from the forge and the mock battlefield, Iko walked on four wickedly clawed paws. His lion’s tail trailed in the dirt, and his eagle wings lifted toward the clear blue sky, white feathers gleaming.