The one in silver fur nodded. “Mm-hm3m.”
Gondix stepped forward and thrust his sword toward me. “How did you know that?”
“Well, I am a sorcerer.” I scratched my beard in a scholarly way with my good hand while trying not to drop my stick or fall over. “I knew how to kill Memweck. Knowing your names isn’t much of a feat.”
Gondix and Zagurith glanced at each other, and then Zagurith smirked at me. “Is that a challenge? I hear your balls clanking, but I see only one arm and one leg.”
I smirked back. “I had only this arm and this leg when I destroyed your brother. I sent him wherever wiseass demigods go when they die.”
Their eyes got big, but none of them snarled, or glared, or cursed me for murdering their brother.
I leaned forward as well as I was able. “Be frank with me. You never really liked the vainglorious shithead, did you?”
They all glanced away in different directions, which answered my question. Then Paal straightened his furry shoulders. “Doesn’t matter. He’s family.”
Zagurith said, “Bear in mind that you simply killed him, Murderer. It’s not as if you betrayed him.”
Paal charged Leddie, the silver fur on his coat bouncing with every step. Leddie held her ground and thrust with Memweck’s sword at the last moment. I thought she had impaled the demigod, but somehow, he twisted aside and grabbed her wrist. I heard the bones crack from fifty feet away, and Paal plucked Memweck’s sword out of Leddie’s hand.
Leddie screamed. “Stop it! I’ll annihilate you! I’ll pull out your guts, you twisting bastard!” She kept cursing Paal, her voice getting louder and higher.
Gondix laughed. “Traitors are not afforded an easy death. Not until they beg for it.”
Zagurith added, “She may not literally beg for death before we kill her. We’ll probably weary of her before that.”
Paal scribed a big arc in the air using Memweck’s sword, and a mountain valley appeared inside the arc as if it were a window. He shoved Leddie hard, and she fell through the hole, still cursing. Paal jumped through after her, and the hole closed behind him.
“That was a tactical error.” I spit on the bare ground. “You just reduced the size of your force by one-third. Pil, write that down. That stupid decision should be in the song you make up about their destruction.”
Gondix glanced at Zagurith. “Is he being sarcastic?”
Zagurith squinted at me with one eye. “I’m not sure.”
“Well, let’s just kill everybody and go home.”
I lifted myself out of my body and called for Harik. After two seconds of paralyzing nausea, every one of my senses fell away, except for sound.
I heard Halla speaking. “Yes, I am ready.”
The rich, motherly voice of Sakaj, Goddess of the Unknowable, answered. “Finally, dear. I’m so impressed that you waited this long. You’re such a good girl.”
“I agreed to trade,” Halla said. “I did not agree to listen to your mockery of love, oh vile and ass-ripping goddess.”
I imagined drawing my blade, and the Gods’ Realm appeared. I jerked and turned my face to the ground, squeezing my eyes shut against the painful light. The sunlight there was normally comforting, even sweet, but when I forced myself to squint around this time, the daylight and harsh reflections hurt my eyes.
I stood on the usual expanse of dirt with Halla to my left, stiff and awkward. Sakaj stood on the lowest level of the marble gazebo, flipping back her black hair as she silently laughed at Halla. She wore a pale gown that glittered and refracted in the sunlight, and she was so perfect that I almost couldn’t breathe because I desired her so much. I jerked my eyes away from her to Harik, who was leaning back on a bench near her with his legs crossed at the ankles.
“You!” Harik pointed at me. “You be quiet!”
“Who must be quiet?” Halla said, turning her head from side to side.
Sakaj glared at her brother. “Did you have to let her hear you?” she whispered. “Sloppy. You’re sloppy.”
Harik hunched but didn’t answer her. Instead, he shook his finger at me like he was my mother. “Nobody must be quiet! Continue with your trade.”
Sakaj said, “Pay no attention, dear. Harik has lost his mind again. Soon he will swallow his tongue and engage in intimacies with a tree. Now, darling, I offer you two squares in exchange for these memories.”
“That is a wonderful joke, Sakaj. I am sure all my friends will laugh when I tell them,” Halla said. “I want an open-ended debt. I know you gave one to Desh. I mean, to the Nub.”
For a moment, nobody spoke. An open-ended debt created an obligation but didn’t reveal how large it was. My deal with Harik was open-ended. I had to perform a certain number of killings for him, but only he knew what that number was.
I tried to imagine my friend, the sorcerer Desh, receiving power every month—or maybe every week or day—without having to trade for it. The enormity of it stunned me. I shouted, “She gave Desh an open-ended debt?”
“Bib?” Halla turned her head.
“Murderer!” Harik bellowed, coming to his feet.
“Harik!” Sakaj scowled, grabbing the arm of his robe and shaking it.
“Wait! Just wait!” I waved one arm. “The gods are taking on open-ended debts? Halla, what are you offering? What the hell is going on? Harik, are you taking on open-ended debts too?”
“No one is doing that!” Harik glanced sideways at Sakaj. “Almost no one.”
Halla jumped in. “So, I would like one, Sakaj. I want three squares every day until the debt is fulfilled.”
Sakaj snorted, an odd sound to come out of such a staggeringly lovely creature. “No. I will grant you three squares once and one time only in exchange for all
