What was happening? How was she still strong? I had gotten rid of the iron soil. Did some trace amounts remain that I couldn’t see? Was she gaining power from her weapon? Did she have some other aspect like I did that she had invoked?
She came at me again, and though I tried to push her hammer away, it still ended up grazing my upper arm. It didn’t cut me but I could feel the weight of it, realized how easy it would be for her to crush every bone in my body with her weapon.
My muscles had tensed and I could feel sweat pouring down my back. This was not how this was supposed to go. My aspect continued to slip away from me, causing me more and more pain.
Why wasn’t the potion working? Had I taken them so often that I’d become immune? Or was it a faulty batch?
Was Xander suffering the same way I was? I glanced over at him but he was strong, fighting off the crowd of soldiers trying to get to him.
“Always so weak,” Artemisia taunted me. “You care about your husband. And he’s yet another weakness that will lead to your downfall.”
“He’s a strength,” I said, trying to catch my breath. What was wrong with me?
“You cannot win,” she said. “You are pathetic. Your goddess is pathetic. She speaks of love and goodness while Arion promises power. Victory. Wealth. The things that matter.”
Her hammer hit my sword and she nearly knocked it from my hand. And then, despite me not turning the flame off, it went out on its own.
As if the hammer were stronger.
I again dodged at the last moment, nearly getting hit by that hammer. She slammed it into the ground next to my feet and I again fell back.
She raised her hammer over her head. “This feels familiar.”
Luna suddenly appeared at Artemisia’s side, flapping her wings. She breathed out a stream of silver fire, which Artemisia ducked. She turned to swing at my dragon.
“Look out!” I yelled to Luna.
She disappeared just in time, avoiding the hammer. She reappeared next to me, curling up on my chest just as she had when I’d faced Artemisia before.
Luna transported me a good distance away from where Artemisia stood. I heard my dragon’s voice in my mind.
Remember who you are.
I stood and held up my sword, able to see my own reflection in the highly polished blade.
Remember who you are.
Now it was Maia’s voice.
Remember who you are.
And then it was the goddess’s.
Demaratus’s voice added to the mix—I remembered how he had said earlier that if he were the goddess, he would have given me an aspect that was sustainable.
Not one that tired me out.
And maybe the reason my fury aspect wasn’t working was because it was the wrong one.
It wasn’t what the goddess had intended me to use when protecting her believers.
She’d had something far greater in mind.
I watched as Artemisia ran toward me.
Remember who you are.
I knew who I was.
