Meanwhile, Murphy was flying all over, digging up Kronos's roots wherever he went.
Back in the great hall, the High Priest raised his hand again. A silvery-white light surged from his palm, coiling around Leander's body.
Then, the light dissipated.
Leander's breathing grew ragged. "High Priest?"
The High Priest's brow furrowed slightly. "It's fine. Let's try the next one."
He raised his hand again, and the silvery-white light surged forth once more, brighter, denser, and more frantic than before.
The light was like a crazed spider, frantically weaving a web on Leander's chest. Thread by thread, it was drawn from his very bloodline, weaving a vast, silvery-white net of light above his body.
The net of light flickered and trembled, then dissipated once more.
Leander watched the motes of light drift down and asked cautiously, "High Priest, is it still going to work?"
The High Priest did not speak.
He raised his hand for the fourth time.
But the light shattered again.
