"Stop struggling," Zenzele said. "Give the Blood time to heal your injuries."
When I came to, I found myself surrounded by my loved ones. Zenzele, the twins, Tapas, Vehnfear. I had been flailing at Zenzele and immediately desisted. I reached up and felt of my head, then groaned as the bones shifted together with a snap. I saw double for a moment, smelled sulfur and excrement. The Living Blood was repairing the damage to my brain, but not quickly enough!
"We don't have time," I tried to say, but the words came out garbled, all but unintelligible. I shook my head to clear my thoughts and pain lanced from my neck to my temple. It felt like my left eye had exploded from its socket. I touched it to make sure it was still in there.
"Lie still!" Zenzele said, using her shut-your-mouth-and-do-what-you're-told voice.
I shut my mouth and did as I was told.
I was lying with my head on Zenzele's lap. She stroked my face as I recuperated, brushing my hair from my eyes. I could tell by her expression that my injuries were severe. Bad enough to alarm her. She was being uncharacteristically tender.
"Khronos is getting away," I said after a little while.
That sounded right, didn't it? I was not sure. I was still a little muddled, and it felt like ants were crawling all over my body.
"And?" she said testily.
I remembered the trap then. The falling floor. Neolas and Hamman crushed. They were not true immortals. They were lost to us now. Gone forever. Had anyone Shared with them recently, preserved their memories?
"How many of us remain?" I asked.
"Enough," she said.
The Blood repaired something else in my brain, for my vision instantly sharpened. I could focus my thoughts. I pushed myself upright, assessed the situation. The air was nearly opaque with dust, a choking brown fog. The survivors of the God King's deathtrap stood in small groups, looking toward us with varying expressions of fear, anger, horror and disbelief. But mostly they were waiting. Waiting for me to get up. To lead them onwards.
I rose. Zenzele rose with me. "We've come too far, suffered too many losses, to allow the God King to escape us now," I said.
I saw doubt on too many faces. Were they losing their faith in me, in our mission?
I opened my mouth, not knowing at first what I meant to say—something to inspire, to encourage them, I hoped—but what spilled out was the unadorned truth. "I know," I said. "I know what you are thinking. What you are feeling. But we cannot give up now. I have tasted the God King's blood. I have looked into his soul. I have seen the horrors that lie in store for us if we do not destroy him. This must be done now! Tonight! He can be destroyed! You know how it was done to Sunni. We must catch him, and we must drain every single drop of the Living Blood from his body. It must be done. For all our sakes!"
I do not know if it was my speech or my sincerity-- or maybe they just decided it was too late to turn back now-- but they roused. I saw the doubt fade from their eyes, and in its stead: anger, determination.
Zenzele saw it, too.
"This way!" she shouted, and then she raced to the passage whence the God King had escaped.
She vanished into its dark maw.
I waved them after her with the loudest, the bravest, the fiercest warcry I could muster.
"Death to Khronos!"
And they answered.