Sudden, intense cold slammed into Teshub's forearms. He sat up and held out his arms, staring at the symbols as they ignited and extinguished, chaotic, the message indecipherable, jumbled. Wine. Poison. Istara. A pendant. He looked up at Thoth, slivers of dread digging into him. It was time. He could feel it. Thoth abandoned his books and took Teshub's arms in his hands, his eyes fixed on the erratic flames.

"The mortal is dying," he said, glancing at Teshub. "There is little time left." He hurried back to his desk, searching through the morass, pushing aside scrolls and stacks of books in his haste, sending them tumbling to floor. He pulled free a small metal object, encased in a leather harness.

"Come with me," he said, going to one of the tower doors. He paused and waved his palm before a sigil embedded in the wall. The door slid open with a soft hiss. Inside, an oval portal, glowing with soft white light. Thoth stepped into it and vanished. Uncertain, Teshub followed him, emerging a heartbeat later into a large, windowless, circular room bathed in blue light. Along its circumference, a dozen more portals led to the Creator only knew where.

Thoth went to one of them, and held out the metal object to Teshub. "I managed to get my hands on this during the wars," he said, a faint note of pride tingeing his words. "It belonged to one of Marduk's fallen kings."

Teshub eyed the thing, disturbed something so deadly could look so elegant. "I'd rather not have anything of Marduk's," he said.

Thoth took hold of Teshub's wrist and thrust the weapon into his hand. It felt heavy, malevolent. Cold. "Take it," Thoth insisted, ignoring Teshub's shudder of revulsion, "once you become mortal, other than having this--of which I admit I do not know how many charges it has left--you will have none of your powers, save your brute strength and your wits. You are going to need this if you are to have any chance of stopping Marduk."

Teshub looked at it. It was shaped to fit his hand, with a place to settle his forefinger against an indentation on the handle. A short, fat barrel extended away from the handle.

"You aim, and press the indentation," Thoth explained, "and a bolt of energy leaves this part." He pointed at the opening of the barrel, "I confess I still do not understand how it works, but the energy it fires disintegrates the victim. Very clean. No mess." He held out the leather harness. "Strap this around your thigh, your kilt will cover it."

Teshub fastened the harness onto his leg and set the weapon into it, closing the leather strap over it holding it in place, cautious, hoping doing so wouldn't set it off.

"Now," Thoth said, pointing at the oval of white light, "this portal leads to the edge of the realm, where you must make your leap." He glanced back at Teshub's arms, where several flames still flickered, sporadic. "He is dying fast. Your bond will carry you to him, but the transfer of your light will only happen so long as you allow it." He paused. "You know what it means to fall to the mortal realm?"

"I get another chance to finish Marduk," Teshub answered, taut.

Thoth glared at him, severe.

"It means I will lose my powers, and become mortal," Teshub admitted, though it pained him to say it aloud, "and one day I will die."

Thoth grasped hold of Teshub's shoulder. "The Creator has chosen you for a great purpose. I envy you. Go." He tilted his head at the glowing opening. "Save us all."

"I intend to," Teshub muttered, and lunged through the portal.

On the other side, he ran, racing across the last reaches of the Immortal Realm, its outermost buildings speeding past him, dwindling as he neared the forbidden boundary, his heart pounding with exhilaration and terror. Crying out Arinna's name, he launched himself into the abyss and soared from the realm's edge. He plummeted, spinning into the churning mists, a ball of lightning gathering around him, surrounding him, protecting him, his passage searing through the heavens, leaving a path of flame in his wake. Power flooded into him, the lightning feeding him, energizing him. He threw his head back and roared, his heart afire, his senses awakening, glinting, sharp-edged razors. He lived again. He was Teshub. Storm God. Marduk would--

Pain slammed into him as he crashed through three purple awnings, and tumbled onto the wide, stone-flagged terrace of an opulent apartment, smashing his way through a pair of divans. Feathers exploded from their cushions, bathing the apartment in a profusion of white. He found his feet, lost them, and careened into a table, the sound of splintering wood filling his ears as he hurtled with it into the corner post of a bed, the force of his impact breaking the table in two. The bed post shuddered, groaning as it collapsed inward. The bed caved in, its cushions tumbling past him into the debris.

He stood upright, slow, cautious. Heat hit him, sweltering, oppressive--the broiling air heavy with the scent of jasmine. On the other side of the room, an overturned metal bowl rotated against the floor, its revolutions harsh, discordant, growing louder until the rotations became one long, loud trembling vibration. It stopped, abrupt. Silence.

Through the cloud of drifting feathers he saw the one he had come for, slumped over beside a divan, drool hanging from his lips, his fingers wrapped tight around a golden pendant. Teshub clambered through the wreckage, cursing the unsteadiness of his legs. Shoving aside a shattered chair, he knelt and touched the mortal's brow. The man, Urhi-Teshub, still lived, but only just, his soul already beginning to slip away, pulled toward the realm of the gods.

Placing his hands on Urhi-Teshub's chest, Teshub bowed his head. He had done it before, long ago, when he had lived in the world of men and granted his light to wounded creatures, though those efforts had cost him nothing more than a trickle, this would take almost everything he had. Poison saturated Urhi-Teshub's body, his blood polluted with enough toxin to kill ten men.

Of its own volition, Teshub's light reacted, drawn, inexorable, to the dying man. Teshub closed his eyes and let go, his light easing from him, slow at first, then faster, surging, pounding through him into Urhi-Teshub, Teshub's light fading, diminishing, leaving him empty, hollow, weak.

He let go and sank back onto his haunches, eyeing the other man. Golden light wove itself around Urhi-Teshub, a living thing, forming a cocoon of light, sinking into him, slow.

A faint glow of light remained in Teshub's hands--a mere glimmer. He watched, fascinated, as it retracted and darted back to his torso. Hope surged. He hadn't lost all of his light. It meant something, but what, he could only guess.