Aerion stood at the top of the temple stairs, gleaming in all his ceremonial arrogance. But his swagger faltered when he saw me. Well, "me," as in Malvor. I walked too smooth. Smirked too sharp. My eyes gleamed with something just a little too extra. But the illusion was good, too good. And Aerion, bless his thick skull, already thought Malvor was ridiculous enough to pull it off. Still, his gaze shifted to the obedient, docile version of myself trailing behind. Head tilted. Lips curved into a perfect sultry pout. Suspicion darkened his expression. "Is she… glamoured?"
I laughed, loud and cocky, Malvor's laugh echoing like a whip crack across the courtyard. "Please. If I wanted to glamour her, I would've given her wings and declared her my new religion. This—" I dragged my hand down false-Annie's arm, "—is all natural."
Aerion's brow twitched. Something in him knew it was too polished, too perfect. But pride is a hungry beast, and gods never second-guess gifts. "She seems… different," he pressed.
I leaned in, wearing Malvor's grin like a wolf baring teeth. "Oh, she's different. I broke her in for you. Smoothed out the rough edges. That look in her eyes? Obedience. You're welcome."
He hesitated. I saw it. The soldier in him recognizing traps, the faint ripple of warning in his instincts. But then the fake me smiled. Obedient. Docile. Waiting. That was enough to seal his pride over the doubt. His smirk returned, ugly and smug. "Fine. I'll take your castoff."
I laughed, velvet and fire. "Do enjoy your… ride."
I pressed the false Annie's hand into his and walked off with Malvor's swagger, the kind that shouted: I know exactly what I've done, and you'll never see it coming. Aerion bought it. His doubt rotted into arrogance before my eyes. Malvor, the real one, was invisible at my side near the columns, already doubled over in laughter. "Oh Annie!" he whispered reverently. "That was magnificent. I've never wanted to propose to myself before."
I bit back my own laughter, watching Aerion lead the docile illusion toward his chambers. "You think he'll notice?" I asked.
"Oh, he'll notice," Malvor wheezed. "Right about the time she asks for oats and kicks down a wall."
That broke me. I clamped a hand over my mouth, snickering as chaos unfolded. Malvor snapped his fingers and conjured a shimmering dome of silence and invisibility around us. The chaos outside dimmed instantly, like a stage behind velvet curtains. Then, with another snap, a velvet love seat appeared, crimson and gold of course, along with a floating bowl of popcorn the size of my torso. We sat like royalty watching our private show. Inside the temple courtyard, Aerion was already pawing at the illusion of me like a man who thought he'd earned it.
"Oh no," I muttered, popcorn in hand, eyes wide. "He's going in fast."
"Bold of him," Malvor said around a mouthful. "Doesn't even know she has hooves."
The horse, my horse, snapped. With human teeth, no less. She lunged and sank them into his hand. Aerion screamed. Malvor howled. He clutched his side, nearly spilling the popcorn. "YES! Bite him again! I should've given her fangs!"
I winced, grinning. "Did she break skin?"
"Oh absolutely," Malvor cackled. "That was a divine bite. She'll be chewing on his pride for years."
Outside our dome, chaos erupted. Priests scrambled. Guards shouted. Aerion bellowed about betrayal and teeth while the horse bucked wildly, knocking over priceless statues and sending one unfortunate guard sailing into a ceremonial fountain. Malvor wiped a tear of joy from his cheek. "Best prank I've ever co-authored."
I beamed, pride bubbling over. "And I told him," I said, tossing popcorn into my mouth, "he'd get the ride he was begging for."
Malvor let out a wheezing, ungodly laugh. "Annie, my dark little genius, I don't deserve you."
"No," I agreed sweetly. "But you get me anyway. All teeth, no reins."
And Aerion, bless him, didn't learn. We leaned forward in rapt silence as the god of Valor, bloodied and bitten, squared up again.
"Oh no," I whispered, half horrified, half awed. "He's going for round two."
"Gods above," Malvor said through snorts of laughter, "he's about to get the full cavalry charge."
Aerion stalked toward illusion-me again, muttering like this was some divine test of dominance. He reached for her waist—
And all seven hells broke loose. Horse Annie reared back and slammed both hooves into his chest with enough force to send him flying through a marble column. He hit the floor in a crater. Before he could crawl out, she charged again, pummeling him with hooves like rolling thunder. It was brutal. It was majestic. It was almost… romantic. I sat slack-jawed, popcorn halfway to my mouth. "He's… actually buried."
"Technically," Malvor said solemnly, raising a buttery handful in tribute, "that counted as a ride."
"I think it broke him."
"He should thank us," Malvor said with absolute seriousness. "That horse just taught him more humility in ten seconds than his pantheon has in ten thousand years."
The temple erupted in chaos again. Priests panicked. Guards shouted. Someone fainted into a vase. I wiped at my cheek like I was crying. "My only regret," I said with mock sorrow, "is that I can't frame this moment for our wall."
"Oh but we can, Queen of Vengeance," Malvor smirked. "This realm has replay."
He stood with a flourish, cape materializing out of sheer drama, and offered his arm. "Shall we depart before the bruised dignity of a war god ignites the heavens?"
I took his arm, head high, feeling every inch the goddess I wasn't, but certainly was in spirit. "Yes. Our work here is done."
The dome dissolved. We walked out together, chaos swirling around us like confetti, cloaked in shimmering mischief. Behind us, the horse flickered, disguise melting away, until he was simply himself again, majestic, unbothered, and wholly uninterested in Aerion groaning in his crater. He roared after us, pride shattered. "Malvor! YOU CHAOTIC SON OF A—"
Too late. We were gone. The only thing left behind was a calling card drifting through the air:
A gift from your favorite trickster, and his perfect ride.
Back in the Realm of Mischief, Karma got a golden stall, a crown of laurels, and a nameplate:
Karma as Annie, the Slayer of Egos.
Arbor approved.