But it was a chance Tempus had had to take.
And as he strode forward, faster than anything else within that room because, at
last, his wrath had brought the gods awake and power rose within him, the eagle
overhead burst into flame.
The flames began around the dagger in its breast and licked hot and higher as
the bird took wing.
But Tempus had no more time for watching birds or taking chances; he heard a
dagger fall from the bolthole’s height as he waded amid the coils-first to
Stealth, who still fought gamely though ichor had burned one eye shut and his
limbs were bound with writhing snake.
Pitting all his strength against the failing power of the snake- now shrinking
but perhaps not fast enough-the Riddler struggled.
Vaguely he heard voices behind him as palace praetorians gathered. “Stay back!”
he shouted without looking.
He was watching Jihan’s eyes pop, her more-than-mortal hands clutching the noose
of snake still at her throat.
The damned thing was dying and as it did it was whipping back and forth, tossing
Niko like a hook on a fishing line, crushing Jihan. And somewhere, in that
thrashing mess of green slime and human limbs, a child was lost.
His child, Niko had said. But that wasn’t why the Riddler hacked as if splitting
cordwood with Niko’s dream-forged sword. He’d never fought harder than he did
then to free Stealth-if there was kinship between him and any here, it was
strongest for his partner.
Admitting this, while all around pieces of snake flew like steaks from the block
of a master butcher and smoke rose as ichor ate at stone, Tempus found reserves