Page 115 of Kneel Before Me

At the look on her face, Kronos shook his head. “Do not take this on, Daphne. It is not your doing.”

That was difficult to believe. But Kronos would not have said it—could not have said it—if it wasn’t true.

“So what will happen?” she whispered.

“When a basilisk bites another basilisk, the effect is permanent.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means the bite will take a long time to heal. And even once the skin closes, the venom will remain in my bloodstream. It will weaken me.”

“How will it weaken you?”

“When Caspenon bit me, it created a connection between us. That connection gives him the ability to corrupt my strength. Caspenon will be able to…siphon from me.”

“He’ll take your power?”

“Yes.”

“All of it?”

“Yes.”

“What happens when your power is gone?”

Kronos didn’t meet her eye. “A basilisk’s power is its life source,” he said carefully.

“So you’ll die.”

He sighed. “Yes, Daphne. Eventually, I will die. But it will take a long time. Years, even.”

At his tone, something inside Daphne set itself on edge, as if she were a cat with its hackles raised. He could barely get the words out; it looked as if it physically pained him just to say them—even more than speaking had pained him earlier.

He’s lying, Daphne realized. This is what a basilisk looked like when they lied.

“There must be something that will help,” she insisted. “Just tell me what it is, and I’ll do it for you.”

Kronos shook his head. “There is nothing to be done, Daphne.”

“There must be something.”

He laughed quietly. “So stubborn. Even against the laws of nature.”

Daphne shook her head. “There’s always something.”

“There is nothing you can do.” He placed his hand over hers. “But I appreciate your concern.”

It was far more than concern that Daphne felt for him. Kronos was a fearsome presence—he consumed every room he was in, to the point where it was overwhelming to be anywhere near him. Now he was collapsed in front of her, a shadow of himself. She had never seen him this way before, and she never wanted to again. Whatever the venom was doing to him was more aggressive than he let on. There had to be something she could do.

A memory came to Daphne: a time when a snake had bitten her as a child. Her mother had sucked the venom out.

“I can help,” she said before there was time to doubt herself. “I’ll suck the venom out.”

Kronos’s face immediately darkened. He tried to sit up, and Daphne stepped forward, pushing him back down. His skin was scalding hot.

“No, Daphne.”

“You told me that Caspenon can siphon from you—that you can die from this. You said so yourself.”