"Yeah, talking to you is like talking to a wall. A really annoying wall." He turned and waved his hand over his shoulder. "Goodbye, you annoying goddess."
He took a step toward the ship.
She lunged from behind.
And got exactly nowhere.
The ground split open beneath her—vines erupting in long, ropey lashes, snapping around her wrists, her ankles, her throat, suspending her in the air like a puppet with its strings yanked tight.
Shiro turned. Expression blank.
"You really think he'd let you lay a hand on me?"
A smile crawled across her lips. Wide. Then wider. Almost ear to ear—the kind of smile that didn't belong to a goddess anymore. Something darker. Something uglier.
"He can't keep me here forever, and you know it, my dear." Her voice was sweet. Patient. "It's only a matter of time."
He sighed. The kind of sigh that was almost a smile. The kind that came out when you were too tired to be angry anymore.
"Aren't you exhausted? After all this time?"
