Once upon a time
I hit the ground in front of Prester John’s tower, rolled, and was up again. I found myself immediately faced with a half dozen friendly faces, which was a welcome change of affairs. Huitzilopochtli stood there. Marinette and Itzpapalotl flanked her. Ogoun was with them, and Legba still in his greyhound form, and Xipe Totec shining golden bright in the midday sun. They had armed themselves for war, and were flanked by a few dozen of their eagle and jaguar warriors, and a group of angry looking Vemana. I smiled. “Well, look what the cat dragged in. And just what I needed to see. I’m going to get some power. When I get it, I’ll have about an hour.” I lifted my head to study the top of the tower. “That’s just enough time. Things’ll be finished by then, one way or another.”
The flaming sword flickered through the air. Nash raised his hands, and it was only instinct that saved him. He had moved to the side at the same time, and his hands passed through Michael’s without touching them. The archangel’s Grace was in full swing, and Nash couldn’t touch him.