I get to my feet and slowly circle him, a little closer, a little further away. He watches, occasionally shifting his wings to keep me in his line of sight. I want to make him think I’m scared, which isn’t the case. I’m fucking terrified. But as long as he’s paying attention to me and not to where I’m going I might be able to get out of this.

“I could have destroyed you,” he says, “and I did not.” His voice the sound of brushfires and dry kindling. “You owe your life to me.”

I can’t help but laugh. “That’s like proving this new deodorant I’m wearing fends off elephants because there are no elephants around. I could have destroyed you and didn’t. I guess that means you owe your life to me.” I stop when my foot connects with my dropped straight razor.

I start to pull together the bits and pieces of a spell in my head. It’s such a stupid idea that it’s just got to work. When I grab the straight razor I’ll be ready to go.

“Your life is forfeit, worm,” he says.

“Blah blah blah. You realize that’s all you do, right? Just yammer on and on and on and not actually get anything done? I mean, look at yourself. You’re not made of trash this time, but you’re still a wreck.” And this close, I can see that he is. The fire wings are tattered. His glowing serpent form is missing scales.

In the distance I can feel Wanderers edging closer. I’ve been here long enough to have caught their attention. The first ones should start showing up any second now. If I don’t time this right it could end very badly.

“You dare—”

“Oh, blow it out your ass. I’m the one who got into Mictlan. I’m the one that kicked the shit out of your weird talking cat-thing when you sent it after me. I’m the one who took everything you wanted to do and shit all over it. So yeah, I fucking well do dare.”

His body swells, expanding and growing hotter. His energy is a lighthouse in a storm surge, but it’s not something I can use. Not yet.

The first Wanderers melt through the walls. They have my scent, but they’re caught in his glow. All that power, all that blood spilled in hundreds of years of sacrifice.

I duck and scoop up the straight razor. Quetzalcoatl responds by expanding further, putting himself between me and his assassin’s glow on the living side to protect her, and totally misunderstanding what I’m trying to do. He should really be more worried about himself.