Chapter 379

With the sound of footsteps came that of hysterical giggling. It threaded through the hall like a loose wire—high, breathless, and utterly mad, making both of them flinch.

They edged closer to the corner and peered around it.

A procession of Enforcers strode by, and trailing behind them, bound in heavy golden chains, was a god. He was stumbling and laughing like a maniac.

He had long, shabby, dark hair which dragged down to his knees in tangled ropes, clearly unwashed and stinky. The garments he was wearing hung from his frame like sacks on a skeleton. They looked even worse than the tattered clothes of the gods about to vanish. His face was nearly unrecognizable, buried beneath a thick matting of hair and dirt. The only thing that made people know he was special were his set of vast, prismatic silver eyes which gleamed like liquid starlight.

Prince Ron wondered just who this god was.

The chains clinked against the floor as he shuffled, but he never sto