“Huh,” Stefan said. And by that single word Stefan meant, “That is the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“What do you mean, no?” Risky demanded.
“NO! NO! NOOOOOO!” Mack roared.
And at that very moment, Camaro, squeezed and choking and feeling an awful lot like an overcooked sausage about to burst open, had her first kiss.
With all her strength she pushed her face toward the Destroyer and pressed her lips against his . . . well, they were lips of a sort.
Then she drew back, barely able to breathe, and whispered, “You are not the Destroyer. You are Golem. And I love you.”
It’s an interesting historical fact that the ancient rabbis who first created golems as powerful creatures meant to protect the weak (and of course kill enemies) had never attempted at any time to kiss a golem.
This was unprecedented in golem history.
Also, no one had ever loved a golem before. This is fact, this isn’t something made up.
The golem’s whole personality, character, mission is determined by the placement of a message in its mouth. No one had ever tried to put anything in a golem’s heart.
“I love you,” Camaro said. “The real you. So please don’t kill me.”
Risky heard none of this, of course, because she was busy raging at Mack. “I’ll bury you alive! You diss me? Do you know who I am? I am the goddess Ereskigal, also known as Hel and a bunch of other names. I am the princess of darkness! I am evil made flesh! And I’m far more beautiful than that short French girl there!”
Sylvie could have been insulted but she was far too sophisticated to imagine that life is some farcical contest to see who can best exemplify a superficial aesthetic judgment, a judgment so often based on the needs of a capitalist marketing machine that must by its very nature . . . (This went on for quite a while longer in Sylvie’s head.)
“How DARE you reject ME!” Risky roared, and it was a roar because suddenly she was transforming from a very attractive redhead to a gruesome beast of terrible shape, with a head like a bull and a—
And that’s when the Destroyer punched her. It was just one punch in her bull head. But a Destroyer is very strong, and this particular Destroyer was really tired of Risky yelling at everyone, so that single blow sent her flying. She landed ten feet away, on her monster behind.
She shook her head, dazed, and resumed her usual look.
“Get Mack out of there!” Stefan yelled to the Destroyer, who was already losing his more Destroyerish features and looking more like the golem.
The Destroyer/golem easily ripped the box open, and out tumbled a sweaty, bruised, and very relieved Mack.
Also angry.
“Okay,” Mack snarled. “That’s it.”
Without even being asked, the eleven joined hands. And the golem joined hands, too, because it liked to belong. And Stefan figured, well, why not? So he also joined hands.
They formed a semicircle around Risky, who was still not entirely recovered.
“Like we did to the Pale Queen,” Mack said.
In all eleven minds the Vargran spell replayed.
“One . . . ,” Xiao counted.
“Two . . . ,” Jarrah said.
“Three!” Mack cried.
“No! A life for a life!” Risky shrieked. “Let me live. A life for a life!”
“What do you mean by this?” Xiao demanded sharply.
“You give me my life, I give you a life,” Risky said quickly. “I am a goddess, after all. I can give you back a life. One-for-one trade. I live and . . .” She let it hang there.