The blade of blood came down on me like the sky collapsing, howling through the air with the serpent's jaws locked around the hilt. I did not raise the pen to block it, since I had already met that weapon with a sword once tonight and I could still remember how it felt to be split in two.
Instead, I set the nib against the empty air in front of me and drew a single line. I combined what I remembered of Space, since the seal on my soul would not let me touch it, with the rules of Sharpness I had established when I created this pen.
It was the simplest stroke there is, the first thing every Initiate scratches onto a slate when the instructors want to know whether their hand shakes. It glowed white and hung between the god and me, no longer than my forearm, and the blade of blood hit it and stopped.
