“It is not one of my Aspects, I think. I cannot feel it in the air.” The god crosses his arms and looks so much like my Aron that my heart stutters. His gaze swings through the trees, and for a brief moment, I think he sees me. But then he keeps scanning, and I breathe again. “Look for his anchor,” Bad Aron demands. “I do not sense him near. There is not power close by.”

The concubine shivers and runs to hide in a tent.

We’re in trouble now.

I don't know what to do. The guards are scattering through the woods, but there's still far too many of them. As I watch, Bad Aron finds a sword, and the wizard moves toward the fire, pulling a pouch from his belt. He stands near it and closes his eyes, reaching for what looks like a purple dust and begins to sprinkle it in the fire.

He begins to chant, and a strange smoke begins to curl up from the fire. If he was a fake wizard, he wouldn't bother. This must be the real thing, and I suspect that spell isn't going to be anything good. He keeps murmuring words, his hand waving over the fire, and the smoke begins to move in a pattern that looks completely unnatural.

Full of panic, I do the only thing I can think of—I throw one of my rocks at him.

I peg the guy right square in the middle of the forehead. The wizard grunts and hesitates, and for a moment I think he's going to come for me. Instead, he falls onto his back and lies still.

I've knocked him out.

Hot diggity. I didn't know my aim was that good. I bite back a laugh of pure delight, because I need to stay silent. As I watch, Bad Aron moves to the side of his fallen wizard, touches the bloody mark square in the middle of his forehead, and then glances up into the trees, looking directly at me.

A new kind of panic hits me, and I squeeze my eyes shut so he doesn't see me. The darkness will hide me, I tell myself. There's nothing to worry about.

"I don't know you're there," he says in a low, deadly voice I recognize. "You can either come down now and let me take a look at you, or I won't make your death spectacularly unpleasant."

My throat goes dry. I swallow hard, thinking. Will it even do any good to pretend I'm not up here? I clear my throat and then manage, "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather stay where I am. I love the view and all.”

Bad Aron rises to his full height. ”I am not the Lord of Storms. I can't destroy that tree with a single bolt of lightning," he says, voice utterly calm. "Think hard on how you would like to die."

I clutch the bag of rocks to my chest, terrified. I don’t want to die at all, and yet it seems like I can’t avoid my life being put in jeopardy no matter what I do. Freaking arrogant Aron and his arrogant, stupid plan. Rocks in trees, for Pete’s sake. I pause, stalling the inevitable. "You won't hurt me if I come down?"

“I promise.”

I slide down a few branches, skittery with panic. Think, Faith, think. The wizard must be still breathing, or else Bad Aron would be dead. The woods are silent—too silent—and I worry that my Aron has been taken out or incapacitated. It’s up to me to kill the wizard, which is going to be downright tricky given that I’ve got nothing but a bag of rocks and he’s got a god standing over him.

Maybe I can distract this Aron long enough that I can…do something. What, I don’t know. Something. I move down another branch or two, and then I remember just before I hit the lowest branch—did he say he would hurt me or wouldn’t hurt me? “Wait—”

Bad Aron stalks over to my tree, lightning fast, and jerks on the edge of my cloak. I tumble from the tree, flopping onto my back. Pain shoots through my ribs, and I groan, clutching at them.

He looms over me where I lie on the ground, tilting his head as if I’m some weird sort of science experiment. Then, he goes down to one knee and grabs me by the throat. Not hard, just pinning me. His thumb moves against my jaw, forcing my head to turn as he studies my features. “Not what I would have picked.”

“Bitch please,” I manage, coughing. “I’m amazing.”

Bad Aron’s brows go up and a smile curls his hard mouth. “I fail to see the appeal now. It is good we meet under such circumstances. I imagine you make the most unpleasant companion.” His voice is whispery soft, and my body responds despite the situation. I can feel my nipples prick, and his eyes regard me with such familiarity that I feel a sudden, stupid urge to kiss him. Or to let him kiss me. But all he does is gaze down at me, and then his thumb brushes a few flakes of mud off my chin. “You…”

When he doesn’t continue, I lift my chin. “I what?”

But he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t move at all. As I watch, he slowly fades out like an undeveloped picture, and then the hand on my throat is gone. The entire man is just…gone. I gasp, sitting up, and as I do, I see Aron. My Aron.

He kneels beside the body of the wizard, a dagger jutting from the man’s throat.

“Oh,” I murmur weakly, putting a hand to my forehead. “Thank god. Aron, I almost screwed that up really badly.”

“I noticed.” Aron gets to his feet and gazes down at the wizard, his thoughts consuming him.

I manage to stagger to my feet, dusting leaves off of my body. “No, no,” I wheeze. “Don’t worry about me. I’m cool. I fall from trees all the time. I’ve got this. No need to help me up.” When he doesn’t respond to my griping, I frown to myself. “Aron? Are you okay? Where are the mercenaries?”

“Some are dead. Some alive.” He nudges the wizard’s body with one boot, then looks at me. He flicks his hand, indicating I should move to his side.

I limp over to him, wincing at the pain that shoots up my ankle. “If they’re alive, where are they?”

Aron gazes down at me. “Faith. I am telling you the truth. Do you understand?”

“Uh, okay? Why would I doubt you?” I rub my hip absently. “I think I landed on a rock, by the way. Never thought I’d wish the woale was here to carry my ass back to the road, but here we are.”

“I am telling you the truth,” he repeats.

I frown at him, confused. “I heard you the first time.”

“You’re not listening to me.” He touches my chin, and for a moment I’m reminded of Bad Aron gazing down at me like he wanted to kiss me. “I’m glad you climbed down the tree. It was a smart thing to do. I’m not mad about it at all. Understand?” He crosses his arms over his chest and glares at me. “Next time we plan things, I don’t want you to listen to me.”

I squint at him. “Are you…are you lying to me?”

“No.”

For a moment, I have a gut-wrenching burst of fear—that the wrong Aron lived. Except…I saw him fade out. I saw him disappear right before my eyes. The wizard’s dead and I’m alive. I look down at the dead guy just to be sure, then back to Aron. My Aron. He blinks, waiting.

“I…are you Lies and Arrogance both now?”

He exhales deeply, as if relieved. “Not at all. That’s not how this works.”

Oh, fuck me.

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43

The remaining mercenaries immediately surrender to Aron the moment they realize their leader is dead, replaced by…the same guy. They prostrate themselves on the ground, but not before kissing the pommels of their swords and offering them to him. The concubine emerges from her tent with a swish of her hips and does the same, raising her too-perfect ass into the air.

Aron watches all of this from the center of the encampment, one foot still on the wizard's dead body. Eventually, he looks over at me. "Well?"

"Well what?" I look up from the bags I'm searching for weapons. I see some coin, but it's mostly supplies.