Bitterwood pried his jaws open. Blasphet felt the touch of a blade against his tongue. He sighed as each heartbeat carried him away, further, further, to a place where even Bitterwood could not follow.
Jandra stepped aside as Hex staggered upright. The long-wyrm beside him was also stirring, but without Adam near she didn't know how well-behaved Trisky would be. Jandra took the tapestry she'd torn down a moment before and draped it over the long-wyrm. She covered the tapestry with silver dust and willed the fibers to reweave themselves. In seconds she'd created a makeshift straightjacket and muzzle for the long-wyrm. She'd apologize to Adam later if he objected to this treatment of his mount.
Hex stretched to fight off the effects of the poison. He winced as he smacked his head against the ceiling. Hex lowered his neck, his eyes wide open. He looked around the room. "What hit me?"
"Blasphet," said Jandra. "Poison gas. Bitterwood has gone off to catch him."
"Alone?" Hex asked.
"Yes," said Jandra.
"That's the last we'll see of Bitterwood, then," said Hex.
"I was thinking it would be the last we saw of Blasphet," said Jandra.
"Bitterwood is an impressive warrior for a human," said Hex. "But in Blasphet, he's met his match. My uncle didn't earn the title Murder God lightly."
"You sound oddly proud of this," said Jandra.
Hex shrugged. "Pride isn't the correct word. However, I do respect him. Like me, he lost his contest of succession. Yet he didn't fade from the world as I nearly did. Instead, he became a figure even more notorious than my father. History may long remember him after it has forgotten my father's name."
Jandra was bothered by Hex's confident tone. Had she been wrong in letting Bitterwood chase Blasphet alone? On the other hand, how could she have stopped him?
She said, "Maybe we should…"
Her voice trailed off. There was something coming down the stairs. The chiming sound reminded her of Gabriel's wings. She drew back as a metallic skeleton stepped into the room. The steely bones were powered by a complex array of moist-looking bags that served as muscles. The machine possessed golden wings, though their color was dulled by a layer of soot. The skull's eyes were disturbingly human set in their lidless sockets.
"Don't be alarmed," the skeleton said. Its jaws moved, but the words seemed to come from somewhere within its rib cage. "It is I, Gabriel. The battle is won. The sun-dragons have been defeated; the poisoned torches have all been extinguished. The revived valkyries now search the Nest for any surviving assassins." Gabriel moved forward, toward the rainbow arc. As he moved, Jandra found her mind once more filling with memories not her own. She could recall building the synthetic creature before her, and a counterpart, the prophet Hezekiah.
Her borrowed memory merged with her genuine memory as she remembered where she'd heard the name Jasmine Robertson before. It had been the name given by Hezekiah as his creator when Vendevorex had interrogated him.
"In the Free City, I fought a man named Hezekiah," she said. "Are you the same sort of creature? He nearly killed me."
"I cannot be blamed for the actions my brother," said Gabriel. "Jazz gave us life centuries ago. I was to bring worshipers to the fold of the goddess; Hezekiah was to spread the old faith, and denounce the goddess as the devil."
"Why would she want a competing religion?" Hex asked, puzzled.
"To keep humans divided," said Jandra, tapping into Jazz's memories. "To ensure that they would never unite to reclaim their former glory."
"Correct. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm in need of new skin," said Gabriel. With a flash of golden wings, he jumped through the rainbow and was gone.
"Should we follow him?" Hex asked.
"Not yet," said Jandra. "The battle may be over, but the work isn't. There may be wounded dragons I can assist. One of us should go after Bitterwood. See if he needs any help with Blasphet."
"I need no one's help." Bitterwood grumbled as he stepped into the Thread Room once more. His clothes were covered in blood. He was carrying a big gray lump of torn meat in his left hand. Jandra's stomach turned and she looked away from the gory sight.
"What on earth are you carrying?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.
"Dinner," said Bitterwood. "I cut out his tongue."
"By the bones," Jandra said, unable to look at him. "Why would you do something so barbaric?"
"Tongues are easy meat," Bitterwood said. "No bones, no fur. A bit chewy, but I've developed an appetite for them."
Jandra remembered the shock she'd felt watching Hex devour a human's head. Somehow, realizing that Bitterwood ate the tongues of his victims seemed far more disturbing.
"You defeated Blasphet?" Hex asked.
"Yes. Yet another of your relatives. You and Shandrazel are the only blood kin of Albekizan remaining."
"Why are you taunting him?" Jandra snapped.
"Because you told me I couldn't kill him," said Bitterwood, coolly. "I'm going back to the cavern now. I'm going to rescue Zeeky."
"Wait and we'll come with you," said Jandra. "I have a surprise in store for the goddess when I see her again."
"I don't need either of you to help," Bitterwood said. "I've already killed one god today."
With this, Bitterwood stepped into the rainbow gate and vanished.
"Are all your friends this charming?" Hex asked.
"I'm not certain I have any friends," said Jandra. Her shoulders sagged. For all her powers, all her control over matter and light, the simplest human connections continued to elude her. Jazz's earlier accusation that she was only a confused and lonely little girl now lay heavy on her heart.
Hex's demeanor changed. His eyes softened as he reached out a fore-talon and placed it on her shoulder. "I hope I'm not being presumptuous in saying this, but I consider myself your friend. I haven't known you long, but I admire your bravery, your intelligence, and your decency. I said what I said in anger. Please understand: I don't trust Bitterwood. I believe he's deranged. But if you wish to go after him, I'll stand by your side."
Jandra nodded, feeling choked. She swallowed to regain control of her voice. "Thank you, Hex. I do need to go back; not to help him, but to help Zeeky. Jazz is too dangerous to-"
"Who's Jazz?" Hex asked.
"Oh. That's the real name of the goddess. Only, she's not a goddess. She's just a human like me, using many of the same tricks I use. She's just better at them. But I'm learning fast."
"Earlier, when the wyrm-rider knocked your helmet free, you seemed to lose your powers," said Hex. "I'd assumed you needed it to use your magic, but I see you no longer wear it."
"Actually, I still have it," Jandra said, lifting the hair at the back of her neck. "Jazz reconfigured it to make it less obvious. Which makes me think she's probably wearing something similar. It's called a genie. If we can take her genie away, Jazz will be powerless."
"If you plan to fight this goddess, I shall stand by your side."
"Thank you," she said, wrapping her fingers around Hex's talon and giving it a squeeze "Before we go back, though, we should make sure we've done all we can do here. We need to make sure Adam's okay, then get him down here before I set his mount loose."
"If we're going to fight the goddess, should we be helping Adam?" Hex asked.
Jandra ran her fingers through her hair. "Good question. But, Adam hasn't done anything hostile toward us yet. My gut instinct is to treat him fairly for now. Who knows? Perhaps he'll turn out to be a friend after all."
Blasphet opened his eyes. His body felt distant. Someone was standing before him, carrying a lantern, but his eyes wouldn't focus. His wing fell limp as the mysterious blurred shape pulled free the arrow that pierced it. The being then moved closer to his head. Blasphet could now see it was one of the sisters. Colobi?