[b]”You’re welcome,”[/b] the Nemean says to Alexa, gesturing at the bone knife lodged between two of her ribs. Owls swarm around her, but they might as well be waves crashing against the foot of a mountain. [b]”Not that I did it for you, but— we both know the little princess would have been inconsolable if I let her break you.”[/b]

She pulls the knife out. The one thing that you’re really not supposed to do, and she goes ahead and does it anyway. She makes a restrained grunt, like she’s not in considerable pain, and then takes Alexa’s hand, prying fingers open with inexorable force. The bone is slick with dark, dark blood.

[b]”Keep my trophy for me,”[/b] the Nemean commands. It’s different from Redana’s (undeniable) requests; the Nemean speaks and brooks no disagreement. Might as well try to argue with the tides. [b]”Take the little princess and her pet back to your shuttle. Their champion is defeated; the rest should give you no trouble at all—“[/b]

The smell of ozone becomes overwhelming, and then Redana faceplants into the wedding dress, limp and half-conscious. She doesn’t look to be torn apart with wounds, but perhaps the Fates need to keep their threads in order, and she might very well be dying from what should have been fatal, should she have experienced it. Who knows? It’s a mess.

What is undeniable is that her skin is clammy and she can’t lift her head and also the two of you are surrounded by Kaeri. Congratulations, Alexa! Top-notch bodyguarding!