“Not sure,” Brad said, finishing his banana and casually tossing the peel into the smoking wreckage from his last thunderbolt. “Hasn’t happened before.”

Hasn’t happened before… Masaaki started to get uncomfortable, thinking of how he had watched Pestilence use Freyja’s athame to blood-bind Thunderbird. One of the things that Freyja’s humbled völvur had told Masaaki’s father when they arrived to demand the Yatagarasu clan supply them with any knowledge of whereabouts of the athame was that ‘it had never happened before’ for anyone but Freyja or her Chosen to touch it, that Blóðvefr could create life using seiðr, that it would grow more hungry with every use, and should therefore only be wielded by someone with the power to control its impulses.

His eyes fell on Thunderbird, who had grabbed another banana from the bunch on the counter, still seemingly fascinated by a humble yatagarasu. It seemed a lot of things were happening that had never happened before…

Then Masaaki glanced around at the vampire den, once again remembering where he stood—in the very living room of another vampire lord. The twisted schemes of gods were almost ethereal to him in comparison to the idea of being enslaved by another vampire. Clearing his throat, he said, “We need to hurry and get these people out of here.”

The rain god squinted at him, pausing mid-peel of his banana. “Why hurry?”

“Because the vampire lord might return…” Masaaki began, then he flushed when he realized who he was talking with.

Brad raised a single black brow. “And?”

“And…” Masaaki managed. “I, uh…”

Thunderbird sighed deeply. “You can calm down, yatagarasu,” he insisted, gesturing with the half-peeled banana and leaning back against the singed bar as if he owned it. “The vampire that took over this house is no longer on the continent. I think he left the First Lands altogether, so you can stop being twitchy.”

Masaaki let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “He did?”

Lord Thunderbird shrugged. “From what I can tell. A good magus can hide from me, but that irritating insect seemed more interested in dream-weaving and ancestor worship than the weaves of seiðr or magi.”

He calls vampire lords insects, Masaaaki thought, thinking about just how terrifying it had been to be caught in Theo’s iron grip as the vampire had drained him. Again, it occurred to Masaaki just how different they were on the spectrum of power, and how uncomfortable it made him that Thunderbird had taken such an intense interest in him.

“Um, my lord Thunderbird,” Masaaki said, “I was hoping you could lend some assistance in the basement. There’s something down there that I’m rather sure isn’t human…”

Brad made a huge groan of annoyance, but put down his banana and, with another deep sigh, followed Masaaki back down into the basement.

Downstairs, the lights were off, but twin blue eyes in the back corner were glowing. That made Thunderbird hesitate. He snapped his fingers with a scowl and the light overhead flared back on.

The woman in the cage bared fangs and hissed at them. Her hair and clothes were completely filthy, like some wild thing straight out of the forest, and she was hunched in the cage like a feral animal. Masaaki could see catlike talons at the ends of her fingers, and when she hissed, fangs gleamed almost orange in the light.

She’s old, Masaaki realized, recognizing the tell-tale sign of age in vampires and other long-lived immortals.

“Do you recognize it?” Masaaki asked.

Brad was frowning. Ignoring Masaaki, he cocked his head and walked over to the cage. Immediately, the feral woman hissed again and swatted at him through the bars. Thunderbird recoiled and took a quick step back, then, brow still furrowed, walked a circle around the cage, watching her as she hunched and snarled at him.

“My lord Thunderbird?” Masaaki asked. “I didn’t recognize the species and I thought you might—”

“It’s obviously just a shapeshifter,” Brad said, stopping to stand in front of the cage, still frowning at the stinking, dirt-covered woman. “Bottom tier. What I want to know is why she doesn’t register on my continent.”

Masaaki wasn’t sure what that meant. “What?”

“I can’t feel her,” Thunderbird said. “Must be the cage. It’s ensorcelled.”

Masaaki had noticed that, too. Even then, the silver bars were worked with exquisite spellwork, the kind of which he had seen for only the strongest of Third Lander binding enchantments. “There are keys upstairs, but perhaps it’s a good thing to leave her in place until we know what—”

But Brad had already taken a finger and, with the efficiency of something Bonnie had referred to as an ‘arc-welder’, began cutting the bars free.

“—we’re dealing with,” Masaaki finished lamely. Again, too late, he realized he was dealing with a god who was not going to need to follow the same caution in life as a mere yatagarasu.

Masaaki flushed, feeling shame that he had tried to tell the Lord of Lightning to be wary of a shapeshifter. A shapeshifter who was—judging by the silver bars—a creature of the Third Realms, which made it even more likely she was some sort of bottom-tiered demon-possessed nobody.

Though, watching her, he had found it odd that her eyes had glowed in the dark… In none of the dungeons he had had the misfortune of finding himself imprisoned had Masaaki ever run into a shapeshifter whose eyes had glowed…

The woman in the cage hissed and huddled in the back of the contraption as the rain god casually cut the bars with his finger, shielding her eyes as the sparks of superheated metal flew in all directions with an electric sizzle. She perked up, however, when the first bar fell to the concrete floor with a metallic clang and Thunderbird unconcernedly went to the next. She had stopped hiding and was perched like a tense animal, watching the bars with acute, intelligent intensity as he cut another, however.

“There,” Brad said, as the last bar fell away, “now she can show up on my—”

The woman scrambled from the cage and ran on all fours to the other side of the room to hunch between the cages of humans, back up like an angry cat, hissing.

Thunderbird frowned as he watched her, then frowned back at the cage, then back at her.

“It’s not the cage,” he said, sounding confused. He again glanced from the cage and back to her. “How is it not the cage?

“What’s not the cage, milord?”

Thunderbird ignored him, scowling at the woman. “You,” he snapped. “Who are you? Why are you not showing up on my continent?”

The woman opened her mouth, showing fangs, and hissed. The poor feral creature did not, thankfully, lose control to whatever Third Lander possessed her, however, because Masaaki knew she wouldn’t live past such an infraction.

Lord Thunderbird walked up to her menacingly. “Answer me. What’s your name and species? Where’s the binding you’re wearing?”

Her nose wrinkled as she hissed again, showing claws and batting at the air between them in warning. To all appearances, aside from the filthy, baggy shirt she wore, the woman was naked of any chains or spellwork.

Lord Thunderbird seemed even more perturbed by her silence. “Are you wearing any jewelry?”

She ignored him, glancing at the stairs. To get to them, it was clear she would have to go around the cage. She started inching in that direction.

Brad pointedly put himself between her and the stairs. “Take off your clothes,” he ordered. “I can’t see you on my continent. You’re clearly wearing something bespelled.”

The woman refocused her attention on Thunderbird’s face and her teeth elongated again and she hissed.

“And stop hissing at me,” he said, with the same tone a man would use to chastise a hamster. “Talk like a civilized creature or not at all,” the Lord of Thunder said.

The woman ignored him, and for a long moment, Brad scowled at her, his Athabascan complexion darkening. Then, irritated, he snapped, “Fine. You don’t want to remove your binding spell? I’ll just do it.” He stepped forward, reaching for her shirt—

“Don’t touch me, you filthy bird,” the woman snapped, in a voice that sounded as old as it sounded unused.

Brad hesitated, cocking his head as if puzzled. “Excuse me?”

“I can smell his blood binding on you,” she snarled. “Stay away from me or I’ll gut you, you corrupted beast.” She flashed her claws between them like an angry cat.

“I’m sorry,” Brad said, sounding completely confused, “did you just threaten me?” When the woman’s response was just a hiss, Brad narrowed his eyes. “I said remove your clothes.” When she made no movement to do so, he glowered and stepped towards her again.

“I said stay away from me!” the woman snapped, when Thunderbird reached out and grabbed her shirt. Then, to Masaaki’s complete shock, she lunged to her feet and shoved the god of rain, hard.

Thunderbird grunted in surprise as he stumbled backwards, hit a cage with the backs of his legs, then fell on his ass hard. As he did, a flurry of little lightning bolts rolled away from him across the concrete.

While he was down, the woman bolted for the staircase, desperation on her face. Knowing that Brad would kill her for her transgressions, Masaaki didn’t try to stop her, figuring she deserved a running start to avoid the death he knew was to come.

The feral woman was halfway up the stairs when she spotted Masaaki standing to one side of the staircase. She hesitated on the fourth stair, mid-step, her eyes catching on the sword given to him by his ancestors. She stared at it, her big, deep blue feline eyes opening wide with surprise for long heartbeats before she drew her gaze back to Masaaki’s face.

She gave Masaaki chills when she said, “How did you get a Favor of Ra? He’s been bound for centuries.” Her frown deepened and she lowered her voice to a confused whisper. “Are you a Champion?”

Masaaki blinked at her, then down at his plain-looking sword. To any casual observer, it was just a modestly-crafted katana. He opened his mouth to answer her question when Thunderbird righted himself amidst the cages.

“You dare lay a hand on me?!” Thunderbird shrieked in a high, rising pitch from the other side of the basement, making Masaaki cringe and forget what he was about to say.

The woman on the stairs continued to stare at Masaaki a moment, then turned reluctantly to face Thunderbird. “I told you not to touch me and you tried to touch me.”

“I am a god,” Brad shrieked, and his eyes started to glow with electric fire. “I can touch whoever I want.”

The woman turned back to Masaaki as if she had not seen the lights dim and electricity coruscate around Thunderbird’s feet. “Are you not yet bound by Pestilence?” She wrinkled her nose as she sniffed the air, sounding confused…and hopeful? “I don’t smell him on you.”

Masaaki swallowed, glancing at Thunderbird, who was even then starting to radiate with sizzling energy. “Um. Perhaps you should—”

“Come down here and face me as you die, worm!” Thunderbird screamed.

The woman continued to give Masaaki a long look, then only grudgingly returned her attention to Brad. Thunderbird, for his part, was stalking across the basement towards them, electricity rolling from his body in sizzling blue-white waves. “Oh for the love of hogs,” the woman cursed. “You aren’t seriously going to—”