Laughter rang out close-by, then, and we cut our conversation off. Siret kept me close as we moved into yet another common area. Long tables were spread out everywhere and gods were sprawled in high-backed, padded chairs. They were eating, drinking, making merry. There were sols scattered about the place, serving the gods. Either they had already found their rooms on the level below, or else they had a nice little surprise in store for themselves later. It was almost funny to see, since the sols were tripping over each other to wait on their appointed ‘god-trainers’, though they didn’t appear to want to do any of the actual chores. The majority of them were standing to the sides of their gods, waiting for any sort of command, or any way to make themselves useful. Occasionally, a god would turn to their sol in an annoyed sort of way, remembering that they were there, and would bark an order. The sol would then turn to their dweller attendant and bark the exact same order.
It didn’t take me long to spot the Abcurses; they were against the far wall, claiming the warmest spot in the room and stealing all of the attention. There was a raging fireplace between Rome and Yael, flickering light over their small gathering. The girl standing behind Rome looked uncomfortable and angry. She had her dark hair pulled into a sharp bun, and was dressed more like a male sol. There was also a girl behind Yael, though she was much more feminine. She leaned against the wall in the same way that Yael was leaning, a knowing smirk on her lips. Whenever Yael shifted, she shifted to match him.
I was starting to get a sick feeling in my stomach.
I glanced at the armchair Coen was sitting in, turning my eyes on the girl standing behind his chair. She was tiny, her eyes dark and her fringe falling over her face. Her skin was fair, her shoulders a little hunched. She was the most powerful pain sol in all of Minatsol? There was something utterly terrifying about that fact.
Aros was in the other armchair—I cringed before turning my eyes to the Seduction sol behind him. Another girl. Of course it was. She had red hair that bordered on pink, and her skin was the colour of a moonless night sky. Dark, rich, almost shimmering as she moved. Her lips were also the brightest pink that I had ever seen. I almost expected her to be wearing pink clothing and carrying a little packet of pink candies, but she was dressed in a tight, black leather corset-dress, the material of the skirt turning to silk as it reached her thighs.
She turned, locking eyes with me, and I immediately wanted to throw up.
There was a loveseat between Aros and Coen, with a single girl sitting directly in the middle. She had purple hair, and when she turned to glance over the back of the chair—because the whole group had turned to look at us by this time—I noticed that her irises were also purple.
That was Siret’s colour.
The colour of Trickery.
I gagged silently, and Siret had to steady me, his deep voice floating down to my ears.
“Soldier? What’s happening?”
“You all have sols,” I muttered, the bitterness on my tongue refusing to go away. “They’re all women. Beautiful women. Staviti, or Cyrus, or someone, is trying to break up our group.”
The truth of that hit me harder than it ever had before. None of the gods liked that the Abcurses were a unit, and many of the gods were annoyed that I had become integrated into that unit. It seemed too coincidental that each of the sols tasked to the Abcurses had been female, and that they would now be forced to spend every sun-cycle with those females for the entire life cycle.
“I see.” Siret didn’t sound happy. We had stopped moving altogether, both standing in the middle of the hall, staring over toward the fireplace.
Aros and Coen stood, but they seemed to be waiting for us to come over to them. They looked unsure. After a click, I realised why. They had given us privacy, allowing Siret and me to have our time, but now they were unsure. The balance was uneven. Pushing away the panic that wanted to take over my thoughts, I forced my feet to move, carrying me the rest of the way over. I reached out as I got there, taking hold of Coen’s hand, and then Aros’s. They both pressed in against my sides, comforting heat flooding into me once more.
“Everything okay, Will?” Coen rumbled, his free hand pressing somewhere just beneath my ribs, while Aros’s hand slipped around my back.
“You’ve been assigned your sols.” I nodded my head toward the girl beside Rome. She had stepped forward as I approached, her fists clenched.
“Shouldn’t you be somewhere else, dwell—” she began, but was cut off as Rome’s hand shot out, colliding with her shoulder and sending her flying several feet across the room.
We all turned to watch as she slammed into a group of gods and sols, knocking them all to the ground, and then we turned back to Rome. I was sure that my mouth wasn’t the only mouth hanging open.
“You shouldn’t shove girls,” I stuttered out, though I was less upset about the girl being shoved than I was about the fact that he’d beaten me to it.
He shrugged.
“You really shouldn’t,” I repeated, sounding even less convincing.
Siret started laughing then, the sound causing even more silence to descend through the hall. We were beginning to cause a scene.
“Why not?” Rome grunted. “Nobody gets to speak to you. I don’t care if it’s a man or a woman, I will use my Strength against any of them.”
“You can’t ban people from speaking to me.” I rolled my eyes, but only a little bit, because I didn’t want to miss even a micro-click of the girl’s embarrassment as she apologised profusely to one of the gods, her fists still clenched and her face still pinched in anger as her gaze flicked back to me.
What the hell is her problem?
“Other than being shoved halfway across the room?” Aros answered my thought, laughter clear in his voice.
“I just did what we all wanted to do.” Rome apparently felt completely justified in shoving a girl across the room for daring to speak to me.
“People are going to speak to me,” I cautioned him. “They’re going to call me dirt-dweller, they’re going to threaten me, they’re going to try to get between us—” I was just about to get to the rousing and inspiring part of my speech where I declared that I wasn’t going to let any of those things get to me, but Yael cut me off.
“That won’t happen,” he growled, stalking forward and wrestling me from the other two, before walking me out into the centre of the room.
He released me and jumped up onto one of the tables.
“ATTENTION!” he shouted. Whatever conversations we hadn’t already cut off with our previous display, now ended. All heads turned in Yael’s direction. “There’s something you all need to see,” he announced, once everyone was silently waiting for him to continue.
I was standing there, waiting right along with everyone else. I wanted to know what he was going to say or do, but apparently his demonstration was done. He jumped down, his hands wrapped around my waist, and suddenly I found myself being lifted to the table.
“Show them,” he demanded. “Show them exactly what a dweller can do.”
I melted, my eyes on his. He hadn’t said show them that you’re not a dweller, but show them what a dweller can do. I wanted to jump down off the table and kiss him, and by the smirk on his lips, he knew that, but he shook his head, indicating the waiting people.
People. Ah, shit. I wasn’t ready for this. I hadn’t even attempted to use or unlock any new abilities since dying. My eyes darted toward Yael and he gave me a decisive nod. He believed I could do it, so I had to try.
Taking a deep breath, I turned so that I was facing the majority of those gathered about the room. I tried to widen my legs, for a more secure stance, but there were little grooves between the wooden planks of the table, and the edge of one of my boots got caught. My arms waved as I stumbled and I would have gone head-first into the marble below if Yael—no doubt anticipating my clumsiness—hadn’t caught and straightened me before any blood could be shed.
That didn’t mean the damage hadn’t be
en done, though. The crowd around us erupted into scornful laughter, the sound seeping deep into my soul. In that moment, I felt like I was a million life-cycles old, and so utterly tired. I’d been laughed at a lot in my life; so many times that I’d basically turned my every thought and movement into a joke. If you pretend for long enough that you don’t give a shit, and that it’s all fun and games, eventually some of it sinks in. Right in that moment, though, the raucous, biting nature of the laughter was too much.
I saw the flash of dark green in Yael’s eyes; his anger had my own flaring brighter. Just like Emmy, and so many others: I was no longer content to dwell in the dirt. I was Willa freaking Knight. Undead. With zero fucks left to give.
Flames shot up around my table with an almost deafening roar. I hadn’t been planning on doing anything quite that spectacular; they were a little wilder, and more out of control than I had expected. With a gasp, I yanked Yael into me, because he had almost been taken out by my wall of flames.
When he was up on the table with me, my breathing started to slow down. “Did I get you?” I asked, eyes frantically darting across him. I thought it looked like one of his sleeves was smoking a little, but he just shook his head.
“I’m fine. You did good, Willa-toy.”
In that moment, I realised that there wasn’t a single sound in the hall, other than the roar of my fire. I shifted from facing Yael to staring out over the top of the flickering flames, meeting the eyes of as many gods as I could. I needed to do this for dwellers, everywhere.
“You did that, Trickery,” a voice rang out. “She’s a damn dweller, they don’t have gifts.”
It came from a god I didn’t know. “Chalice, the Beta of suspicion,” Yael murmured to me.
Well, it did make sense that he’d be the one to question it. I lifted both of my hands then, letting that whirl of energy free, pushing it out further from inside of me. The panteras had tried to teach me about harnessing my energy. I hadn’t quite understood what they meant. But I did now. The moment those flames roared around me, I knew the reason my power had been locked away since I awoke undead. It was fear. Ever since my fire started hurting people, like Evie, I had feared it. And it seemed that now I had the strength to keep it locked down if I wanted to.
Which I no longer did.
I was going to show them who they were messing with.
As I shifted forward, my boot got caught in the groove again, sending me catapulting forwards off the table.
“Willa!” Yael roared.
He had reached for me, but my clothing slipped through his grip. My back slammed into the cool marble, and I let out a deep groan.
Yael got to me in a heartbeat. “Kill the flames,” he growled.
What? My head was fuzzy from the hit, and I couldn’t figure out what flames he meant. The marble was cool, nothing was burning me. As my head cleared, the flickering reds, oranges, and blues around me came into clear focus. I jerked upright, finding myself half-sprawled across the flame circle I’d created.
Yael attempted to grab me again—his arm looked to be burning as he reached into the fire.
“No!” I shouted, stumbling to my feet, shaking off the disorientation. I tried to push him back, only he wouldn’t move an inch. Instead he wrapped a hand around my wrist and pulled me with such force that I smashed into his chest.
He held me for a beat before he started to run his hands across me, patting every part of my body like I was on fire, even though not a single inch of me burned.
“I’m fine!” I yelled, still disorientated. I scrambled for Yael’s hand, tears already pooling in my eyes at the sight of the red, weeping skin across his forearm and palm. “I am so sorry,” I cried.
“It’s fine, Will.” His voice was nothing more than a gravelled rasp. He was upset. That was very clear. Still gently holding his hand, I lifted my eyes to his.
“How did you do that?” he asked, the look on his face like none I’d ever seen before. “I’ve never felt flames like that.”
I shrugged, trying to clear my throat enough to talk. “I … I don’t know. It didn’t feel like anything to me. Maybe because I created it …”
He shook his head, but before he could answer, a shout had me spinning around.
“Willa!”
The other Abcurses were standing at the edge of the fire, their expressions very much like Yael’s. The flames were still strong and high, separating us. Concentrating through my emotional breakdown, I tried to will the fire away, to suck the energy back inside. It took me more than a few clicks, the effort almost draining me. Apparently, I was better at starting the destruction than I was at ending it.
The moment the circle faded away, they were surrounding me, hands pulling me close. I closed my eyes and buried my face in someone’s chest.
“Yael,” I half-sobbed. “He needs a healer.”
I didn’t look up as whoever held me started to walk, but the silence around us was deafening. I didn’t hear a single whisper, or even any evidence of breathing. Maybe everyone had gone.
Shifting my head to the side, I peeked out through blurry, tear-filled eyes. Dozens of faces stared back. No one had moved. But they sure were staring hard as we strode past. I could see Rome and Aros on my right, and I was thinking it was Coen that held me, judging by the way we towered over everyone else.
By the time I managed to get myself together enough to want to walk on my own, we were in another expansive common area: I was carried through a kitchen, several small, intimate dining rooms, and huge marble-lined pool. Eventually, we ended up in a sprawling area of comfortable chairs and small, contained firepits, covered in ornate, carved metalwork.
“Out!” I heard Siret shout. “If we see your faces again tonight, you won’t have to worry about ever becoming gods!”
I was on my feet now, Coen keeping one hand on my back. I tilted my head around him in time to catch sight of the Abcurses’ five female students—all shooting me death glares as they scurried toward the main door. Siret closed it forcefully after them.
Now that the interlopers were gone, I hurried over to Yael. His bronze skin had a worrying pallor about it, and I sucked in a few ragged breaths. “Where is the healer?” I asked, my attention locked on those beautiful green eyes of his. His face was relaxed despite the paleness—he didn’t seem worried. But I could tell he was in a lot of pain.
“They’ll be here shortly, but there is no point,” Siret told me. “No mortal could heal a burn like that.”
I was already shaking my head. “That can’t be right. What about an immortal then? You guys must have healers. You get hurt, right?”
There was a knock on the door then, and before anyone could call out, it swung open and a god strolled casually in. He wore bright yellow robes.
“Thought you might need a healer,” the man drawled. “I waylaid the sol who was hurrying here, mostly because sols are useless little creatures when it comes to healing.”
Definitely a god. Attitude and all.
“Lancaster. Thanks for stopping by.” Coen gave him a nod.
Lancaster wasted no more time, striding over to Yael. His eyes met mine as he passed and it almost looked like he flinched back slightly from me. I didn’t blame him: what I lacked in finesse and skill, I more than made up for in accidental destruction. He took Yael’s hand in his and I felt a burst of energy. It lifted the hairs on my arms and sent goosebumps over my skin. I held my breath, waiting to see the red angry burns subside. At that stage, I’d have taken any improvement to his damaged skin.
Come on!
“It’s going to be okay,” Aros said, wrapping his arm around me. “This wasn’t your fault.”
It was completely my fault, but I appreciated him trying to make me feel better.
After about three clicks, Lancaster released Yael. “I can’t help him. This is god fire. The strongest I’ve ever encountered. He will have to wait for his body to repair the damage, and there will be extensive scar tissue.”
; “No!” I cried out, hurrying to Yael.
Lancaster jumped out of my way, and I shot him a confused look, which he turned away from immediately. He couldn’t even bear to make eye-contact with me. As he moved toward the door, Rome shifted in front of it, crossing his arms.
“You didn’t see this,” he grunted. “If anyone asks, Persuasion was brought here, where he promptly healed. Nothing else happened. Is that understood?”
“You can’t threaten me, god-child,” Lancaster muttered, disdain marking his tone. “I’m just as powerful as you are, just as old as you are. You’re not that special.”
“No,” Rome agreed, sounding bored. “I was just born in the world you worked your whole mortal life to get to.”
“Exactly,” Lancaster sneered. “I worked for it. I’m stronger than you. All of you. You think the Beta of Healing wouldn’t have allies in Topia? I have so many people on my side that not even Abil’s family can make a dent in my existence.”
“Maybe.” Yael spoke up, his voice a rasp. “But guess who can threaten you?”
Lancaster spun around, glancing at Yael, before his eyes slid involuntarily to me.
“That’s right.” Yael let out a hacking laugh. “So keep your mouth shut about this, or we set Willa on you. Ashes don’t tell tales, do they?”
I expected Lancaster to sneer again, to shower me in his disdain, to tell me that he had all the god friends and that I didn’t stand a chance … but he didn’t. He shuttered his expression and gave a short, sharp nod. Rome moved out of the way and he escaped the room without looking back.
Seven
The room was silent for only a click before the door burst open again. This time, it was Cyrus. He appeared in a flurry of white robes and flashing eyes as his attention snapped straight to Yael.
He snorted. “I knew Lancaster was lying. You don’t look like you healed yourself. What the fuck happened?” That last part he had aimed at me, his attention shifting from me and back to Yael’s burns.
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