Kael lay on his back, staring at the sky while each breath sent a sharp pain through his ribs. Blood soaked the dirt beneath his left shoulder, and he could feel the wet patch spreading whenever he tried to move. One of Akrab's spears had entered near his collarbone and passed straight through him. Keeping the arm attached had been an achievement, although he was having difficulty appreciating it.
His right thigh wasn't much better. The reinforced Basilisk trousers had split open, exposing the damaged protective mesh beneath them. Blood covered his leg, and expensive strands of material hung loose around the wound.
He had spent hours getting that reinforcement right. Apparently, he should have asked Andre whether it came in a version suitable for gods changing their minds halfway through a fight.
