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“I’m amazed there are any scalies left if this is how they travel.”
“‘The heart of a witch is the Blackwood, and the heart of the Blackwood is a witch.’”
She was running, fleeing from the king’s golden statue with her back turned on the caged demons below, because this was the ninth queen. The one who’d run away from Gilgamesh and left her people to die. The story was right there, engraved beneath the queen’s running feet for every demon to read while they waited to be sold. Behold the Coward Queen, it said, who chose her life over yours.
Burn again, he whispered, his deep voice shaking with effort. Rebexa.
I said speak it strongly! You think she is some common demon to be ordered about by any oaf with a voice? Fool! You are addressing a daughter of Ishtar! Put your back into it, and hurry up.
“There can be no rebirth without destruction,”
“Bravest of my daughters,” she cried, her face like lightning as the fire whipped around her, “I give you all that I have left! Go with the blessing of Paradise, and set my people free!”
“Rebexa the Bonfire, Queen of Wrath.”
She stood in the ashes of the bonfire like Aphrodite risen from the sea foam, a divine figure radiating vitality and power as surely as a fire radiated heat.
He liked everything about this new, happy Bex very much indeed.
“Nothing is everywhere,” Nemini replied with a shrug, her yellow eyes shining like a predator’s in the dark.
If the Eternal King was actually as divine as he claims to be, I should have been destroyed in a pillar of holy fire, yet here I stand, because Gilgamesh isn’t actually divine or eternal. He’s just a king, and no king rules forever.”
