Shrike struggled to meet Zhu’s gaze. It did not take a genius to deduce that the reptile was not a true long, but who would have thought that the creature standing in front of her would be a fake in every sense of the word? A fake that had a vested interest in keeping his past a secret.

Zhu’s silver eye bored into her golden one for a long time.

“Your eye isn’t red,” he murmured, mystified.

“No, it isn’t,” she responded in English, unable to think of anything else to say.

“Heh, it's weird being able to suddenly understand you.” His eyes narrowed in contemplation. “What about me? Gingers might not have souls but I should still have earned a red.”

She shook her head. “The god of your world has no power here.”

At least, Shrike sincerely hoped that was the case.

Zhulong seemed skeptical. “Just because you can’t see The Watcher doesn’t mean he’s not around. Still, it’s good to know that he's lying low at least. So a world where people’s eyes don’t turn red or silver, huh? That’s gonna take a while to get used to.”

Red-eyed and silver-eyed warriors did, in fact, roam Manu, but discussions related to Baetyle could wait. There was a more pressing issue to address.

“You were stabbed with a spear cursed by Viros. You must remove your arm to keep the corruption from spreading through the rest of your body.”

Zhulong clenched his hand experimentally. “I feel fine. Like I said, this body is basically immune to disease and toxins.”

“Are you willing to bet your life on that assumption?”

“I am not sure I even can die now that I am the only devourer around,” Zhu grunted. “But I suppose I’ve taken enough risks today.” He wrapped his tail around a boulder and extended his arm. “Blitz, rip it off.”

Zhu had to repeat the order several times before the confused wyvern sank his talons into the devourer’s shoulder and pulled. In this instance, Zhu’s resilience proved to be a detriment. It took nearly an entire minute of tugging and thrashing before Blitz separated his limb from the rest of his body. The pseudowyrm screamed throughout the entire process and unleashed one last harrowing bellow when a new arm emerged from his bleeding stump.

Blitz stared at the ground and flinched at his master’s approach. Zhulong gently scratched the wyvern’s chin.

“It’s alright, boy. I am not angry.”

'Not with him, at least,’ Shrike thought pessimistically. She was certain that some horrible fate awaited her. The only thing stopping her from throwing herself off the mountain was the knowledge that Zhulong would want to resolve this situation quickly and quietly.

She tried to keep her face blank when the devourer turned around to look at her.

“So, how come you never told us that locals have anti-air capabilities?”

“It never occurred to me.”

“Sarin is not like me. She is incredibly methodical, and I know for a fact that she specifically asked you if anything in this area could harm or ground a flyer.”

“I swear to Kanghui, I didn’t know they could.”

“And yet, you started freaking out when the neanderthals showed up. Almost as if you knew exactly what was going to happen.”

Indignation bled into her voice. “When a luddite points a talisman at you, it’s obvious that they have something terrible in mind. If you were born on Manu, you would know this.” That seemed to alleviate some of his suspicions. “What would I have to gain from withholding that kind of information from you?”

“If only the motives of people were so easy to understand. Maybe you hate me for looking like the dragons your tribe worships. Maybe this was payback for imprisoning you. Maybe you just didn’t like Sarin for being prettier than you and fed her false info because you're a catty bitch. And maybe you are telling the truth. I’m not a mind reader, so all I can do is guess. Unfortunately for you—I’ve never been good at reading people.” He clicked his teeth. “How exactly does this hocus pocus shit work? It’s not something you can just whip up willy-nilly, is it?”

Shrike pursed her lips. She was no expert on Enkengelion and even if she was, how charitable a god was with their gifts often depended on their mood and the circumstances. She went over the basics. “Most miracles are given in exchange for tribute or as a reward for years of prayer. The best way to get a god to consecrate a talisman is to offer them soul gems at an altar.” She gazed at the snow-covered grounds below. “There aren’t many soul-bearing creatures in this land, so we usually have to offer years’ worth of prayer crystals to receive one.”

“Soul gems?” Zhulong repeated. His face lit up after a moment. “Oh, you mean heart stones, right? Figures. You always have to use a bunch of that stuff to get anything cool. How many heart stones do you have to give up to get that anti-air magic?”

Shrike shrugged. “The only time my clan deals with Enkengelion is when he collects his toll from us.”

Zhulong looked like he was about to respond, but he closed his mouth and held out a finger. “Dirge is ringing me,” he informed her.

While Zhulong was engaged in telepathic communications with his minion, Shrike inspected Blitz’s wounds. Several spears were lodged in his belly, coating his softer, ventral scales in purple blood. His wings were in a worse state. The membranes were covered in dozens of ragged tears and fist-sized holes. She had no hope of outrunning the wyvern on the wing, but perhaps she had a chance now that he was grounded.

Zhulong clapped a hand over her shoulder, preventing her from testing out the idea. She suppressed a sigh. It was a stupid idea anyway.

“My minions are on the way,” Zhulong informed her. You mentioned a name before? Who was it that smote my ass?”

“The miracle that luddite first cast was one of Enkengelion’s.”

“Didn’t you say you only had a rough idea of what that neanderthal was planning to do? Yet, somehow you know which specific god that spell belonged to,” the devourer pounced, thinking that he caught her in a lie.

Shrike didn’t skip a beat. “He was holding a ring-shaped talisman, a pretty obvious tell,” she stated, pointing at the giant white arch that crossed from one end of the sky to the other for emphasis.

Zhulong stroked his barbels as he rifled through their shared memories. “Yeah, most of that religious stuff didn’t stay in my head. Tell me more about this Enken guy. ”

Shrike told him all she knew.

“Hmm. And what about that weird spear? You said something about a Virus?”

“Viros,” she corrected. “The god of spite and curses.”

“Is he also the one that turned those neanderthals into rabid baboon demons?”

“Yes.” Her eyes widened when something unsettling dawned on her. “You were bitten by them weren’t you?”

Zhulong scratched his neck. “Like a chew toy,” he confirmed, his jovial demeanor undercut by his rattling tail.

“I do not think we can stop the foaming madness from spreading throughout your body. You will have to transmit the sickness to others if you don’t want to choke on your own saliva.”

“Hold the phone, I’m supposed to do what?”

Shrike stifled a sigh. She was getting tired of constantly explaining common knowledge.

“You saw the foam dripping from the skin wolves’ mouths? That is frothing madness. It is a curse that will kill you within days if you do not suppress its effects by spreading it to others.”

Zhulong stared at her long and hard. “What you just said was quite possibly the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard. Then again, I did just see a bunch of naked men turn into a troop of killer monkeys. Is there a cure for this disease?”

“As far as I know, there are only two ways of curing frothing madness. The first option is to play into Viros’ hands. If you infect enough beings and form a covenant with him, he will dispel the negative drawbacks of the curse.”

“Yeah, I don’t think swearing loyalty to the god that gives people super rabies is a good idea. What else is on the table?”

“The other option is to offer Raya a suitable tribute in exchange for a cure.”

Zhulong didn’t miss the ominous tone in her voice. “And the catch?”

“Anytime you make a deal with Raya, you risk contracting one of her illnesses. They will not kill you—at least not directly—but they will plague you for years, if not your entire life.”

Zhulong let out a weak chuckle. “These characters sound charming. I’m still pretty confident that this convenient body of mine will protect me from any of this planet’s diseases, supernatural or not.” His eyes darted towards his wyvern. “I'm not sure how Blitz will handle it. Rabies from my world only worked on mammals. Hopefully, that’s the case with super rabies.”

Now that she thought of it, Shrike never heard of a long or an imoogi falling victim to the curse. “My father told me that the frothing madness does not affect animals the same way it does intelligent beings. They carry it for a time and can spread it, but they do not die from it.”

Zhulong ruffled the stubby horns on his wyvern’s head. “Good. I’d hate to put down my adorable little Blitzy.” To her relief, his exaggerated coos did not carry on for long. His head suddenly jerked skyward.

“My minions will be here soon. In the meantime, let’s go over a few new ground rules. Until further notice, the only person you can talk to is me. Say anything to anyone else and I’ll crack your skull like an egg. Understand?”

She had heard Zhulong make threats before, but they had always been issued in jest. Not this time.

Shrike nodded.

“Good.” Neither of them was in the mood to talk after that. The sounds of flapping wings broke the silence hanging over them. Their rescue party consisted of three wyverns, a dozen tropeogueras, and two winged humanoids.

“That’s Zophiel,” Zhulong said, pointing at the armored synth with angelic wings. He then jabbed a finger at his companion, a red-skinned woman that possessed horns, bat-like wings, and a spaded tail. “Velaari.”

Sarin began issuing orders as soon as she landed. “Ammuts, heal the archduke’s mount.”

Three entelodonts that the wyverns had carried trotted over to Blitz. The wyvern’s wounds scabbed as he lapped the sudoric acid oozing from their humps.

Sarin pulled several wooden spiked barricades and a coil of iron wire from her pocket dimension. “Zophiel, Velaari, Dargoth, block off the mountain pass. Defend the wyvern and escort it back to the base once it has recovered. Creator, please return with us.”

“I’d rather wait here till Blitz gets better.”

“I still strongly advise against doing that, creator.” The conjurer’s austere tone brooked no argument.

Zophiel clapped a mailed fist over his breastplate and raised his greatsword. “Do not fret, lord! We will guard your mount with our lives!”

Velaari twirled her partisan. “I’d like to think my life is more important than a monster’s, but I’ll make sure nobody lays a hand on it.”

“Return, archduke.” Dargoth implored. “Without you, we have no one to lead us.”

Zhulong clacked his jaws. “Alright, fine.” He pressed his forehead against Bliz’s snout and beckoned Shrike to hop into his passenger pouch.

******

“We must address this ambush immediately, creator.” Sarin declared as soon as they made it back to the hangar.

“Yeah, I guess we do.”

Sarin called out to a pair of zobaka guards. “You two, escort the captive back to her quarters.”

“I thought I was your guest?” Shrike growled in Lunarian. She grinned at the subdued surprise that passed over Sarin’s face.

“And I thought I told you to keep your fucking mouth shut,” Zhu rumbled.

Shrike blanched. The pseudowyrm lifted her by the scruff of her coat and looked her in the eyes. “Like an egg.” he reminded her, his gruff grunt accompanied by a violent clench of his free hand. His point made, he gently deposited her to the floor. “Escort her to my room and keep a close eye on her. Make sure she doesn’t say a word to anybody,” he ordered the guards. “If somebody tries talking to her, beat them. Don’t abuse her though, unless she tries to pull something.”

“Aye aye, cap’n!” the zobakas shouted and hauled Shrike to Zhu's quarters.