The albino girl and I continue the march upward through the tunnel leading out of the old mine, which has been converted to a dungeon. She looks nervously at the torture room as we pass. She can hear moaning, but their voices are too hoarse to do any more shrieking. In time the torches shine a little more brightly and the flames flicker a bit higher, a sign we are getting closer to the surface and the exit.

“Why did they arrest you and haul you to the prison?” I ask her.

“I started telling everybody my story, how I was possessed by a demon, but Lord Riyel set me free. My own mother wanted me to be possessed again so I could go back to work as a fortune teller.” She reaches up to arrange the twigs that she has intertwined with her white hair, but they're hopelessly broken. “They told me to be quiet, that I was slandering those who were hosting.”

“'Hosting'? Is that what they're calling demon possession?” I'm both incredulous and outraged.

“Yes, when I talked about how I felt being possessed and how good it was to be free of the demon, they accused me of hurting the feelings of those who were hosting. They charged me with blasphemy, because I was slandering demons.”

“Holy crap.” I shake my head and immediately realize it's a human gesture that is ill-fitting on a gecko. But then I wonder, what's the gecko gesture for disbelief?

“When the authorities found out that I had been with you, that was all they needed, and they arrested me immediately.” She grabs one of the torches from the wall and carries it with her as we hike.

“Sorry if I screwed things up for you. I tried to warn you that being with me was dangerous.”

“Some of the albinos were eager to hear about Lord Riyel and God the Empowerer, but others saw that I had shoes, and reported me.”

I look down at her feet and notice that she's barefooted again. “I used to know a group of people who call that crab mentality. You put a bunch of crabs in a bucket, and as soon as one tries to climb out, the others will pull it back down. Instead of thinking how they could get everyone shoes, they want to take yours away.”

“Ganghee is looking for you,” the girl tells me.

“Who's that?”

“When you drove out the demon possessing me, it went into Ganghee's sow and she ran out into the Mebed. Hasn't been seen since.” She raises her colorless palms and the torch upward. “So Ganghee wants you to pay for his lost pig. He's got a dagger and says he'll stab you first and then see about getting the money.”

I close my eyes to pray. Well, I can't close my eyes, so the clear lids slide down over them. I have to ask for Lord Riyel's help because I'm tempted to hate albinos. Here a man is offered the choice between the freedom of a demon-possessed young girl, or a sow, and he chooses the pig.

We're nearing the entrance to the dungeon so I gesture for her to be quiet, raising a finger up to my lips. Once again, I've forgotten that my arms are too short, and realize I don't have any lips either, so I nod my head.

I move quickly to the door, with Liana right behind me. I throw the door open, and the two soldiers at the door are leaning on their spears, arguing about something trivial.

Liana swings the torch into the face of the soldier on our left, which causes him to flinch backward. In an instant I have seized the head of the guard on the right, who's wearing a copper helmet, and use my beak to rip the helmet right off of him. On the return motion I drive my beak and his own helmet down onto his skull, crushing it and the vertebrae in his neck, causing him to collapse.

I spit out the copper helmet, which tastes awful, and it bounces on the stone floor with a clang.

Turning, I see that the soldier on the left is bringing his spear into position for a thrust at Liana, but the albino girl is too close to him for him to use his spear effectively. She circles to his back, setting the hem of his robe on fire with her torch. Because his burning cape is behind him, he is slow to realize it's on fire.

When he gets an idea that his cape is on fire, he spins to see, but his cape whirls with him. I duck my head down to elevate my tail and whip it into him. The impact of my tail across his face knocks off his helmet and sends him tumbling backward down the stairs, tangled up in his own burning cape.

There. There it was, again.

I look at the pale girl and gesture with a stubby finger covered with gripping ridges. “Did I just lick my eyeball with my tongue?”

The albino girl looks at me with crystal robin's egg eyes and cranes her neck. “I didn't see it.”

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We start down the steps leading to a spot at the back of the temple.

“You said you're going to kill the king?”

“Yes,” I reply, and kick the downed soldier in the head several times to stop his moaning, and also out of frustration that we're forced to climb over him. I like how the shackles on my leg add impact to my kicks, like a set of brass knuckles.

“Who is going to help you?” Her face is full of concern.

“It's just me. As a giant gecko, I figure it can't get any more ridiculous or far-fetched, so there's no use relying on myself.” I start to shrug my shoulders, but catch myself. “You said I have to show faith like Peter. What worries me is that Peter was crucified upside down.”

“I'm with you.” She lays a reassuring hand on my side. “Oh my gosh, you're right! Your skin is really smooth.”

“I told you. If I were a lizard you wouldn't be saying that.” Way to go, Vic, get all proud about how you're a gecko, and not some lowly lizard.

“I've got work to do.” The girl withdraws her hand and runs off.

I watch her as she rounds the corner of the temple and disappears. It occurs to me that I'm naked, but does that even matter? Like it's not embarrassing to be a six-foot gecko as long as I'm dressed properly? My genitals are hidden inside my ventral slit, so it's not like anything is on display. It's close to sundown, so the mountain gorge where the city nestles is deep in shadow. There are dark clouds in the sky, and a light breeze signals a pending storm. After several days in a dark cell, inside the mountain, I'd lost all track of time.

I'm tempted to walk out around the corner of the temple, but I decide to go low profile, so I drop to my belly and crawl to the corner. Peering around the edge of the black marble, I see the bronze bull standing atop the steps with its head low and its horns raised, but a guard has been posted after my raid on the temple, in which I killed Baal's drug dealer, the horned man, and no doubt poisoned dozens of soldiers by setting bales of the dram on fire.

The zombie drug users are back, staggering or standing in that characteristic stooped posture, fried out of their minds, and looking as if they're fascinated by a spot on the stone landing.

I've got a king to kill, but I can't stand to see the temple of God the Empowerer defiled, so I slither up the steps, staying low on my belly, but one of my manacles clacks on the steps, which causes the closest soldier to turn. I bolt forward into a run and leap, seizing his head in my jaws before he can raise his spear. Whipping my tail over my head, I go into a somersault, breaking his neck as I land behind him. I use my momentum to let go of the helmet in my mouth—I swear I will never get used to the taste of copper—and hurl the helmet into the face of the next soldier.

I seize a soldier's thigh in my snout, and pivot, ripping out a chunk of flesh as my tail slams the knees of two soldiers. Their legs buckle, and I have spat out the chunk of flesh in my mouth, which tastes much better than copper, but not as good as a moth, reminding me that I'm a predator. Two quick snaps of my beaks collapse the copper helmets into the two soldier's faces, and they're out.

Several soldiers charge up the steps, when I seize one soldier by the arm and fling him into the troops bounding up the steps. Or I try to, but I'm disappointed when I see that instead of throwing the guy I've only succeeded in ripping his arm off and throwing the bleeding limb. The torn arm bounces harmlessly off a breastplate, so I'm forced to go back to the wailing one-armed paladin and seize him by the shoulder, then hurl him into his companions. I think it's a sign of poor-quality soldiers when you can't throw a guy without ripping his arm out of the socket.

The bell in the center spire begins clanging, a sound that can be heard throughout the city from one end of the valley to the other. Reinforcements are coming, and I can probably add to that a baying mob with torches, farm implements, and work tools.

I following the airborne body of the one-armed soldier, and immediately after impact I am on them as they tumble and sprawl over the steps, whipping my tail into one's face, headbutting another, while one lucky guy gets a face full of acid sprayed from the back of my throat. I can't quite get to one soldier's throat—my snout is too big—so I'm forced to yank out a good portion of his lower jaw, too. My jaws clamp onto one's calf and I throw my body into a spin, wrenching his knee and making him shriek in pain. I slam my tail into his spear so that he impales himself when his leg collapses and he falls.

I am reminded of the psalm:

Holy Gecko, dispassionate one,

slow in motion, slow to wrath.

In the hour of judgment

you will strike the enemies of God

as the lightning shakes the palm,

As the gecko seizes its prey,

and dashes it against the rock.

The sound of pure bedlam can be heard throughout the city, as bells peal and horses gallop over the cobblestones, while wagon wheels bounce and roll, accompanied by shouts of rage, joy, and alarm. A mass of torches approaches, like a swarm of fireflies in the twilight. To my left and behind me the white palace begins to glow with the first lamplight. The warm lights of the palace are reflected in the pools outside its walls, serving as a moat, with just one central walkway for an entrance.

I rise up on my hind legs and run across the open courtyard, swinging my tail and rocking my hips in a characteristic sidewinder motion. I'm making a beeline for the central walkway leading into the castle. I'm encouraged by the fact that the guard on the central ramp is light, with two at the forward edge of the reflecting pool and and another two and the drawbridge gate. If I have to, I can vault the interior guard and climb up the wall.

Chains began to clatter as the drawbridge slowly drops open like an ominous jaw, disgorging soldiers four abreast, who jog out with their spears and take up positions filling the entire walkway from the front edge all the way back to the gate.

Okay. Change of plans. I whirl around to face a stampeding line of cavalry with their sabers drawn and pointed at me, leading a howling mob carrying torches, sickles, hammers, walking sticks, and ale bottles.

I'm trapped, and I have no idea where to go, but the horses are close enough that I can see they've been driven until they're drooling.

Lord Riyel, I could use a little help right now.