“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, because I’m flying blind here.”

He narrows his eyes. “I am a god. That has not changed. I am just…a god who has been stripped of his powers and forced to walk the mortal plane with you at my side.” Again, he says it like he’s spitting nails.

So flattering. “Is this your first time being an Aspect? The way they talked about it in the temple, this holiday’s a recurring thing. The Anticipation. I assume it’s happened before.”

“It has happened before,” he says slowly, gazing around the room. “But not to me.”

Oh. “Think it’s happened to anyone else at the same time? Right now? Should we try praying to the other gods and asking to get you home?”

The look he gives me is withering. “You think I am the only disobedient god?” He snorts with amusement.

All right. So Aron’s a bad boy and all the other bad boys and girls have also been kicked from the heavens? Got it. “Can we find some other gods and have a chat with them?” He gives me a dirty look that’s so irritated I go silent. Jeez, what did I say? “All right then, meeting up with other gods is out.” Maybe they’re the gods that booted him out of the heavens and that’s why he doesn’t want to find anyone else. “It’s just us, then. We’ll figure things out as we go.”

Doesn’t seem like Aron’s going to get me home anytime soon if he doesn’t know anything about what’s going on. All right, then. This will just be a long haul. Fighting back disappointment, I consider our surroundings. The room’s opulent, but I don’t see anything we can use to defend ourselves if someone attacks, and that worries me. Even the food tray doesn’t have a knife on it. I rub my brows, tired. It has been the longest of days. “So is it okay if I turn in?”

“Turn in?”

“For sleeping?”

“Ah, sleeping.” Aron nods slowly. “This is where mortals lie in bed and close their eyes for long periods of time. I always wondered about that.”

I’m starting to wonder if the transfer to being mortal—excuse me, an Aspect—scrambled his brains. “Yes. They sleep. The brain goes quiet and your body refreshes itself. Everyone has to do it.”

“What if I do not want to?” The arrogance returns to his voice.

“It’s sort of a requirement for humans, like breathing and eating and drinking.” I pause, because he hasn’t done the eating and drinking thing. “You sure you’re not hungry?”

“I am certain.” He looks around and then nudges one of the thick rugs on the floor with a bare, pale toe. “Do I sleep here?”

Dear god, he is helpless. “How about the bed, champ?” I even point at it, because I’m a nice person.

Aron grunts and then moves toward it. He places a hand on one corner and pushes on it, testing. How did this man know to sit in a throne but doesn’t know how to use a bed? Maybe the gods have chairs but not beds, then. Wonder what else the gods don’t have.

A sense of humor, I mentally tell myself as I watch Aron scowl at nothing in particular. He gingerly sits down on the bed and then lies back, and then frowns up at the ceiling. “How long does it take to refresh yourself?”

“Longer than two seconds,” I say dryly. Impatient much? I consider the room and there are some nice rugs on the floor but not really any place for me to sleep. The bed that Aron’s in is big enough for me, too, but I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.

Floor it is.

I look for extra blankets and pillows. The only ones are on the bed and I think about asking Aron if he minds…then I realize he probably will. So I’m just not going to ask. I move to the opposite side of the bed and grab the least offensive pillow, but when I tug on a blanket, it nudges his shoulder and he opens his eyes and glares at me.

Fine then, no blanket. I grab my pillow and move to the floor, sinking onto the rug. It’s made from some sort of furry animal and I really hope I’m not going to get fleas. I’m exhausted, too. There are a million things I should probably ask Aron about, but maybe it can wait until the morning. I yawn and curl up, holding the pillow against my cheek. Despite the fact that I’m sleeping on the floor, this might be the best sleep I get since I’ve landed in this hellish place. That’d be nice.