Disgusting snake.

Xigon couldn't move or breathe. His body was cold and everything around him was quiet. He knew he was alone, and it terrified him. He needed someone. Anyone. Even Qila was better than chills and silence.

I wish you would die.

Minutes dragged on like years.

Die.

He didn't want to die. He didn't know whether it was even possible for him to die, but the mere thought of it was horrifying. To not exist. To not be. Like the thousands of people marked on his arms. And here, Haode thought Xigon didn't understand, when the truth was he understood better than anyone.

Give up already.

He refused. Xigon never gave up. What he wanted, he got, one way or another. How should this be any different?

Then he felt it – a pull, deep and irresistible.

His lungs swelled painfully with his first breath in what must have been hours or days. Xigon's eyes snapped open. His hands clenched tight. He twitched and whimpered as he struggled to re-establish his breathing and heartbeat. Slowly but surely, warmth and color returned to his skin.

Confusion clouded his tired mind as some strange instinct forced him toward the door that hung ajar. He crawled, heaving in pain, and tried to make sense of what drove him. As if it had ever made sense that birth and dying drew him like his lantern drew moths in the night.

Once he got through the door, he tried to sit up and look around. His surroundings were bafflingly unfamiliar even though he knew nothing in the halls had changed. Or had they changed? He leaned his back against a wall and found he could not reorient himself. His eyes grew wide with that realization. Dark specks floated across his vision.

Cold silence surrounded him. It clouded his head like heavy dark smoke. Inch by agonizing inch, he crawled on.

He didn't understand why. He'd never understood. Xigon's suffering mind drifted back to his first encounter with Qila. Two villages at each other's throats like starving dogs. All that death had pulled him close, refused to let him go. How he'd feared yet craved it, needed it. How Qila had eventually found him standing over two dead armies.

His arms strained. He dragged himself forward, palms and knees aching against the cold floor. Water dripped onto the stone. Each breath came more strangled than the one before it. Was he crying?

He was. He was crying, and not quietly. It was as if part of him knew what he would find at the end of the thread that pulled him.

Soft footsteps echoed down the hall.

Xigon looked up and registered that something alive was in front of him. It was white-hot, blazing bright. It hurt. He wanted it gone. The primal urge to kill whatever was in front of him consumed all other thoughts. His eyes fixated on the center of that heat, the heart, and burned violet as he tried to snuff it out.

It only dimmed slightly before steady fingers clamped his eyes shut. Sobs shook Xigon as whoever it was brought his head down, keeping him blinded and defenseless.

"Shhh, shhh. It's me." Qila spoke in a soothing tone. "Calm down. Focus."

Xigon's heart beat faster at the sound of Qila's voice. He clutched her arms and tried to use his hands instead of his eyes, but with his gloves on, there was little he could do.

They sat like that for some time, Qila restricting his vision while he dug his fingers into her arms, nearly tearing holes in her sleeves with how tight he held on. His breathing was heavy and erratic. Qila's touch only upset him more, but it couldn't be worse than cold and alone, he told himself. Beggars couldn't be choosers. His nemesis was better than no one.

Still holding his head down, she let him open his eyes again. "I found out Ami made you take Rager," she told him. "I'm sorry we left you alone. Everyone's worried sick about Channei. She's injured."

Not just injured, Xigon realized. Not if he felt this kind of pull. Channei was likely dying.

He hoped he was wrong, but that sense had never lied to him before.

There was a tug in another direction. He felt as if he were being torn limb from limb. His voice came out a strained wheeze. "Channei..."

Qila let go of him. "Can you get up?"

Right behind her, he saw a vision of Haode holding a bloody dagger.

Xigon bared his teeth. Slowly, painfully, he pushed himself up. His eyes were ablaze with violet.

Qila reached out to steady him. "Xigon?"

He managed three stiff words. "Help me walk."

She obeyed without another word.

They made it to the bluehole room after what felt like a hundred miles, one step at a time. The heat of so many souls was an assault on his heightened senses. Xigon shut his eyes and turned his head away.

"I brought him," said Qila. "Seems like you all and he had the same terrible idea."

"Thanks, Master Qila." He heard Kolo's voice, louder and more confident than he'd ever heard it. "Master Xigon, I need you to do that thing you did a while ago. With my mind and the broken pieces. Remember?"

He did remember.

"It sounds insane, I know," said Kolo. "But I have a feeling this could help us. Please."

The tug of impending death overpowered his mind. He extended a shaky hand. "Take my glove off."

"Xigon, in this state, you'll kill her." Qila tried to pull his arm down. "Wait a while."

"We don't have a while, Qila." Kolo yanked Xigon's glove off. "All right. Here goes nothing." She pressed his hand to her forehead and screamed at the top of her lungs.

Xigon wasn't even aware of doing anything. His power seemed to work on its own. He flinched, then opened his eyes and saw Kolo backing away from him. She had an expression of utter shock, as if lightning had struck an inch away from her face.

Azvalath ran to her side. "Kolo, what happened?"

"Stand back a second, Aza." She took Xigon's hand again. "I know what to do now."

Her eyes gleamed a harsh violet. Light pulsed in tangled threads beneath her skin. Qila gasped and let go of Xigon. His jaw fell open as he realized what Kolo was about to do. The understanding came a few seconds too late.

Xigon's inner ears exploded. His vision blacked out, then went white, then everything swam back into view. He thought he was falling, but he couldn't tell up from down. Qila caught him again, but she could barely keep him on his feet.

"There, I think I destroyed most of that poison." Kolo let go of his hand. "Can you save Channei now?"

Xigon realized with amazement that his head was almost clear. "Yes." His heart swelled. "I can. Thank you, little devil."

"Not devil," she corrected. "Goddess."

[26] Xigon: Inch by Inch

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