The strangled fight for a breath proved two things: Enyalius wasn't dead, and the godkiller hadn't worked.

How is he still alive?

Vatra released her knife. The blade stuck in Enyalius' chest flush against the hilt. She was frozen in place and stared down at the wound bubbling blood. Her legs straddled Enyalius on either side of his stomach, knees pressed into the soft dirt. The uncomfortable closeness to the god she hated more than anything would usually send her scurrying away within seconds. She couldn't find the strength to move.

Two hands grabbed Vatra at the hips and pushed her off. She fell to her backside in the grass, stunned to silence. Enyalius withdrew his arms, and with a firm pull, he yanked the godkiller from his heart.

Enyalius looked at the knife in his hand. "Don't tell me this is the weapon I saw you kill Silvanus with all those years ago," he said, a tone of disbelief lacing his words.

Panicked hands slapped over legs and arms as Revna seemed to mentally check that she was still alive. She touched her cheek before rustling over the grass towards Vatra.

"You would have killed me too, you know," Revna said. A fire flashed in her eyes. Though, it faded almost as quickly as it sparked.

"I'm glad we're all so concerned over my life." Enyalius lazily held the godkiller, enunciating his words with the knife. He pointed to himself with the tip of the blade. "She just tried to kill me."

"I-it should have killed you," Vatra choked her words through a paralysis gripping her throat. "Why didn't it kill you?"

"I don't know," Enyalius replied sourly. He drove the knife into the ground beside him and prodded around the healed wound on his chest with his opposite hand. "I'm quite glad to be alive, though," he added.

"I'm not," Vatra spat. She climbed to her feet and walked over to her knife. Pulling it free, Vatra examined the weapon for a possible explanation as to why it didn't work. It had been a few centuries since she used it.

Do godkillers have a shelf life? Vatra thought. Did it expire like a can of tomatoes?

Enyalius stood up with a scowl. "You are insufferably bitter, you know that?"

"For good reason," Vatra said. "My only regret is that I didn't try this sooner."

"I'd like to point out, again, that if you were to kill Enyalius, I would die as well," Revna interrupted their stare-off. "As much as I can understand your grudge, I'd prefer to have some say in my life."

Vatra peeled her eyes from Enyalius' and turned her attention to Revna. "And what would you do, mouse? I don't know you well enough to care much about how killing him would affect you."

Even Vatra had to admit her words were affected by her emotions. The truth was, she did care about Revna. She'd spent years defending people affected by the gods. Revna was no exception.

"You and I aren't so different," Revna said. She took a step closer to Vatra. "I might not be a fighter like you, but my life is tied to Enyalius just as yours. Over the years I've watched you try to rectify the gods' wrongs. I've always admired you for it. And for that, I know you don't mean what you say."

Holding back a roll of her eyes, Vatra sighed. "You speak so highly of Enyalius, I'm surprised you'd consider our situations even remotely similar. Did he throw you in a volcano, too?"

"I'm a fylgja. Many years ago I agreed to be bound to Enyalius after his rampages found him on the bad side of my people. Trust me, I don't follow him because I think he's righteous. On the contrary, I keep him in line," Revna said. She traced the runes along her hairline with a finger, as if pulled into a memory.

Enyalius chuckled and spun around from where he had wandered off. "Oh, please, both of you speak your minds freely! I find it wonderful you're bonding over a mutual hatred of me." He clapped his hands together and dramatically batted his eyes at them.

"He has changed a bit," Revna added in a whisper. "Though he's still rough around the edges."

"You're to blame for his moral compass?" Vatra questioned. "And here I thought Enyalius was turning over a new leaf on his own."

"Not by choice," Enyalius said with a shake of his head. He apparently didn't appreciate the side-effect of being bound to Revna. "I haven't even been able to do as little as break a nose for almost a thousand years. It's torturous."

A smile found its way to Vatra's lips. There was a silver lining to not being able to kill Enyalius.

"You can't find enjoyment in this." Enyalius pointed accusingly at Vatra. "You tried to kill me, and now you think it's better to watch me suffer with this... curse."

"Now that I know of it," Vatra paused and bobbed her head, "yes... Seeing as though we may be stuck in this forest for a long time together, I need something to keep me occupied."

The three of them grew silent and looked back to where they'd been sent tumbling off the ridge. A smoky scent had taken to the air. It was nearing a suffocating thickness that appeared to roll down off the ridge line.

Belltower was gone. Hisato and Spyro were unaccounted for, but they'd most likely been killed in the blast. There was no one left to help them.

There's no way off this planet, Vatra thought.

"The upside is the people who attacked us probably think we're dead, too," Revna said. "If that's comforting to anyone."

"I feel better already," Enyalius replied with heavy sarcasm.

"I don't want to wait around until another lurker shows up, or something worse. There's a secure campsite not far from here. We should make our way there and figure something out," Vatra said. She holstered her knife and started a new path parallel to the ridge.

Only one person's steps crunched through the undergrowth behind her.

Turning, Vatra saw Revna at her heels. Over Revna's shoulder, Enyalius stood with his arms folded tight over his chest. He hadn't even made an effort to follow.

"Now who's being insufferably bitter?" Vatra called back to the god.

Enyalius dragged his feet and started walking with them. "You tried to kill me. I thought we'd bonded over the years. The back-and-forth banter was really becoming of our relationship. It was a true testament to our own sense of humor... so I believed."

"You feel betrayed?" Vatra laughed. "I'm flattered to know that you valued our 'relationship' so much," she added. Her mocking tone over the word 'relationship' was weighted with a matching motion of air-quotes with her hands.

"I looked forward to your dramatic arrivals, actually," Enyalius said quietly. "Our encounters were a surprise for each century. I would ask myself: 'What is Vatra going to try and kill me with this time?'. It never occurred to me that you would actually succeed."

"I didn't, though." Vatra pushed past a blanket of vines blocking the path ahead. "You didn't die."

"You missed my point," Enyalius mumbled.

Grabbing on to a sturdy vine, Vatra leaned on one foot and allowed gravity to spin her around to face the others. She narrowed her eyes at Enyalius. The vine fell away from her hand as she raised a finger to point to her left.

"The campsite is through that grove of trees. Bad energy isn't welcome. Are you done wallowing in the fact I shoved a knife in your heart?" she asked.

Enyalius frowned. It was clear he was fighting back a choice of words. The muscles in his jaw flexed, and his lips parted before sealing shut again. A simple nod was his answer.

"Perfect." Vatra led them towards the grove of trees.

The thicket was fairly easy to navigate. Vatra took the lead, stomping down tall grasses and breaking off low-hanging branches. There was a particular branch that bent against her stomach, and she took little care to keep it from swinging backwards and thwacking Enyalius in the abdomen.

A grumble sounded from the god. "Hey! I know you did that one on purpose."

"Oh, did I?" Vatra threw the question over her shoulder with a grin. "I must pay better attention from now on."

Turning her focus back to the path, Vatra ducked under the last branch and stumbled into a clearing. She drew her gaze around the flattened underbrush. Her heartbeat drummed loudly in her ears, pounding against her ribcage.

The hatch leading down into the underground bunker was propped open on a cement platform. A fire burned not far from the entrance, crackling and popping as fresh firewood was scorched in the flames. Beyond the fire, outlined by the dancing embers, sat the Agkistrodon.