30
CODY
Cody soaks in the tub.
The water is clear, now a third drum of bathwater has been brought up. The first two drums blushed red with blood. Now her little bar of soap is just a sliver, and she feels clean.
She wraps herself in a towel. Sprigs of lavender stick to her legs and she does not pluck them off.
She exits the bath. A pair of slippers are waiting for her, just beyond the door. Another gift from Penn.
“I’ll pay you back for everything,” she says – he’s lounging on top of her coverlet.
“I have a trove waiting for me, if I can conscript a new Death God,” Penn says, and she hikes up a brow. “My winnings.” He shrugs.
“So you have slain a Fire Scale?”
“Every man who’s ever called himself Xerxes has slain a Fire Scale,” says Penn.
“Tell me how it came to be,” says C
