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Slate pulled Ruby’s hand, turning her away from the whispering townsfolk. His eyes were huge and confused behind his skull mask, staring at her in a way that made her anxious. The confidence of a god was starting to dim, leaving her with her usual human nerves once more.

Ruby wiped a smear of blood off her neckline. “What? Do I look okay?”

“You look…” Slate’s brow furrowed behind the mask. “Resplendent. Ruby, I… Whatareyou?”

Ruby laughed, short and wild. “I don’t know! I’m not a human. I’m not a god. Not all the way, anyhow. I’m… whatever I want to be. Within limits.”

Slate didn’t respond. His hand clenched around hers, a strange look entering his dark eyes. It looked a lot like hope.

“Witch god,” a voice called from the back of the bakery. “There are wings on the horizon!”

Ruby looked up and sighed. More demons were heading their way, barely specks in the distance.

“One second,” she told Slate.

She turned toward the ruined ward and held out her hands. She could still feel the power they created during the ritual and Slate’s come dripping down her thighs.

Magic crackled at her fingertips. Her hole throbbed with it, pulsing in time with her heartbeat. She still ached from taking his cock, and she was deeply glad for it.

She touched the ward stone. It glowed blue under her touch, light springing out and filling a nearby crack. That light bled into the next one, and soon, all the cracks were glowing with light, the townsfolk covering their eyes as it swelled.

Ruby stepped back.

The light died. A new ward stone sat in the middle of town, shiny and perfect. The rune was different: instead of goat horns, there sat a crude, slim dagger.

There was a faint shriek in the distance. Ruby smiled and looked up to see the demons falling out of the sky, writhing.

The ward was renewed. The town of Sweetsguard was safe again.

A lone cheer rang through the square.

“The demons are banished,” cried Glenda, grabbing her children away from their impassioned whispers about the see-through dog to hug them close. “Praise our new god witch, Ruby!”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Ruby began.

But it was too late. The townsfolk were crowding out of the bakery, popping out of overturned wagons, and running from their houses to rejoice at their savior. Many of them stumbled toa stop when they noticed Slate lingering behind her but calmed once they saw everyone in the bakery cheering.

Then the questions started.

“What do you wish to be called, god witch?”

“Would you like sacrifices, god witch?”

“How is the Bygone involved? Should we pray to him, too?”

Ruby backed away, bewildered by all the clamoring and kneeling and people trying to thrust flowers and gold into her hands.

She turned to Slate, only to find him walking toward the forest.

“Hold that thought,” she told the people bustling to get their question asked first.

She ran to Slate and ducked in front of him. “Where are you going?”

“Home. To the void.” Slate gave her a tight smile. It did not reach his eyes. “You will want to address your new followers. At least, they appreciate you now.”

“Followers?” Ruby laughed. “Slate?—”

But Slate was gone. Ruby touched the shadows swirling in the air where he had been standing and sighed. She had recognized the anguish in his eyes. The same look had been in her eyes an hour ago.