James Maxey: Dragonseed

"Then it is your duty to see to my safety."

"Or my duty to take away your genie," said Hex. "Vendevorex assures me that if it's not in your possession when you die, the dragonseed can do no harm."

"Even with that golden shell, you still need to breathe." Blasphet moved with the swiftness that only those enhanced by nanites could possess as he tossed a talonful of silver dust across the room.

"Die choking in your own… own… um…" Blasphet's voice trailed off as the silver dust swirled and flew back at him, coalescing into silver chains binding his talons. "Curious," he said.

"Vendevorex says the genie you wear has never been locked. He can control the dust you command from half a world away."

"Ah," said Blasphet. He flicked off a black cap from the longest claw on his left fore-talon. The nail glistened with a tar-like black poison that smelled of almonds. He looked deep into Hex's eyes as he said, "I always knew, in the end, I'd have to fall back onto my familiar vices. These chains cannot bind me! These valkyries will never harm me. I am the Murder God!"

"I would be much more impressed if your claws had any chance of piercing my shell," Hex said, careful not to open his mouth too widely.

"You misunderstand," Blasphet said with a chuckle as dry as the rustle of dead leaves. "We're back to the ending where my heart stops and everyone dies."

He plunged the talon against his own neck. His face twisted into an expression of pure malice as the poisoned claw tore deep into his vein. Hex lunged, snatching at the genie that floated above Blasphet's brow. His talons closed on empty air. The tiara vanished like a popped soap bubble.

"It might be along his spine," Vendevorex buzzed into his ear. Hex's heart froze at the word might.

Blasphet shivered as he fell against Hex's chest. The Murder God's eyes glistened with tears as they rolled up into his skull. His last breath came out in a long, shuddering sob.

Hex sank his teeth into the flesh along his uncle's spine and ripped away the ebony metal he found there. He spat it out. It slid along the floor like a long black serpent.

Had he been fast enough?

Did the evil beast's heart still beat?

He held his breath. Blood surged out of the open wound as the Murder God's black heart pushed out one final pulse. He slid down Hex's golden chest, completely lifeless.

"We should have anticipated the poisoned claw," said Vendevorex.

"Did we stop him in time?" Hex asked, his throat tight.

"With at least a second to spare," said Vendevorex. "The genie never sent out a signal."

"So it's over. We've won. The world is finally free of the Murder God."

"Good riddance," said the Vendevorex mosquito as it flitted away. A few feet away it paused, before darting back to Hex's ear.

"Just to be certain," it buzzed, "burn the body."