by Jaymin Eve
“What is it?” he asked. “Where did the dweller-Emmy go?”
“She gave me the slip.” My voice sounded hollow, disbelieving. “Again.”
He made a grunting sound, and it felt as if more of the anger bled out of him. It seemed that he was almost fully over the need to kill the three sols, which was both a relief and a disappointment. A few less dick-sols—as they would be henceforth referred to—would do our worlds some good.
What the hell is Emmy up to? Rome’s anger was dissipating, just in time for mine to rear its head again.
“I’m probably almost definitely going to kill my sister when I get my hands on her again,” I snarled, as we finally made our way into the dining hall.
The crowds were thinning a little, and I barely noticed the looks shooting our way. At this time, the dwellers and sols were going about their normal routines: the dwellers were serving, and the sols were … being blessed. There was an air of change about the place: a dash more attitude from those forced to serve. A few dwellers exited the kitchen, and I recognised a bushy head of hair. Evie. Our eyes locked as if she’d heard my thoughts, and I tensed, wondering how she would react. I expected a sneer, because the dwellers still thought I was a traitor; instead, she gave me a half-smile and a slight nod, before she turned to deliver her tray to a nearby table.
That was weird. Even weirder than normal, which was definitely saying something since Evie was one of the instigators of the dweller uprising. Evie and Emmy were both instigators, along with Atti. And now Evie and Emmy were both acting strange.
Emmy … my slippery, sneaky sister.
Rome kept one hand firmly planted on my shoulder, weaving me through the tables. I should have made him hold on to Emmy like this. No one was slipping out from under that firm grip.
“She’ll tell you when she’s ready.” He seemed to be reading my thoughts again. “Knowing what I do about her—meaning the little I have bothered to learn—your Emmy-dweller isn’t completely reckless. There’s a reason to her weirdness.”
A cold fear clenched inside my chest, and breathing became painful for a few beats. “She lost her … guy. Her love-partner-person.” I got choked up, swallowing hard and continuing. “Lost is a stupid way to put it. It’s not like Atti is just wandering around with an upside-down map asking for directions. He isn’t really lost … he’s gone. He’s dead and now lives in Topia as a server named Judy. Emmy isn’t acting rationally, and I can’t wait for her to be ready to tell me!”
Rome let out an exaggerated breath, which I pretended not to hear, because I already knew that I was being a pain in the ass.
“He’s not a server in Topia,” Rome explained patiently. “We already checked for you.”
I wanted to believe him, but I knew they would lie to me to protect my feelings. Especially since there was nothing they could do even if Atti-Judy had been taken to Topia as a server. We were at the table now, and some of the pain in my body lessened as four sets of eyes locked onto me.
“What’s going on?” Siret leaned forward in his chair.
The deep, midnight purple of his shirt was fitted across his broad chest, and even though I was upset, I couldn’t help but stare at him as I answered.
“Emmy is hiding something. We just found her in a clandestine meeting with three sols—and not just any sols,” I continued on in a rush. “Sols whose fathers are in the running to be the next Vice-Chancellor of Blesswood. This can’t be a coincidence.”
Not a single expression at the table changed; the politics of Minatsol registered at about a minus five on their give-a-shit-meter.
“Why would a dweller be secretly meeting with sols!” I almost shrieked, sick of no one taking me seriously.
Coen leaned back in his chair, his arms stretched behind his head as he regarded me solemnly. “If you want us to track her down, I can make sure she doesn’t move until she tells you everything.”
I was almost desperate enough to take him up on his offer, but I felt there was less of a chance that she would openly talk with the Abcurses around. Which meant that I needed to get her alone.
I’d keep that as plan B. “I might eventually take you up on that, but not yet.”
He shrugged, his lips tilting up lazily as he continued to stare at me. I found myself fighting the urge to crawl across the table and launch myself at him. Ever since Coen and Aros had unlocked my Beta side, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way they’d touched me and the way my power had exploded.
It was driving me crazy.
Between those thoughts and the Emmy stresses, I was shocked that they hadn’t carted me off to a healer for a mental evaluation.
Yael snorted from my right side. “I’m sure that your mother had something like that tested many life-cycles ago.”
No doubt I should be offended by that, but instead I was blindsided by a mental image of my mum. Her blonde curls haywire, which they always were after a big night out. Washed-out blue eyes intersected with red veins. Always bloodshot. Most of the time she was passed out, no time to care or notice enough of my behaviour to worry about whether I was crazy or not. Hell, half the time she acted even worse than me.
I think I surprised all of us when I answered quite seriously. “My mother wasn’t concerned with anything but herself and alcohol. I frustrated her, but I was also easily shoved aside. If it wasn’t for Emmy … it would have been a lonely existence.”
The silence felt a little heavy but not uncomfortable. Like we were each processing those words, and then as conclusions were reached, questions were asked.
Aros was first. He leaned forward, a lock of that golden hair falling across his forehead. “What about your father? You never speak of him.”
A derisive chuckle built in my chest as I snorted out, “Can’t speak about someone you’ve never met. Either I was a gift from the gods and just appeared on mum’s doorstep, or she got knocked up by a passing dweller she met at Cyan’s Tavern.”
And since I looked exactly like her, and we all knew how the gods felt about me, there was really only one of those options that we could consider plausible.
“You never asked her?” Rome pushed further, and a jolt of frustration had my voice clipped as I answered.
“Of course I asked her. What kid wouldn’t want to know if there was a responsible parent out there? One who wasn’t going to vomit in their only pair of shoes?” Always look before putting shoes on. It was solid advice. “She just told me that I didn’t have a father, and I should focus on the future, not the past.”
Focus on the future, Willa, the past is of no use to anyone. She used to say that to me all the time. Then she would get blind drunk and not have to focus on either.
A part of me was used to it, but I also couldn’t think too long or hard about her, because I didn’t want to be an angry bitter dweller. It wasn’t worth it. It changed nothing.
“Do we have anything happy to discuss?” I asked with a sigh, leaning forward and resting my chin on my arms.
The Abcurses somehow exchanged a single glance between the five of them, and I found myself sitting back up, unease rocketing through me. I didn’t like that look. It wasn’t a happy look. They were totally not bringing me any happy.
“What?” I finally burst out, my eyes running across their faces. “Don’t tell me you’re having another sex talk with me?”
A sol nearby gave a gasping cough and I realised how loud I was. Whoops. Maybe this wasn’t the best place for this sort of discussion, but the guys didn’t seem upset. If anything they now looked amused, which I preferred to that serious look from before—a look which unfortunately returned as all five of them leaned in. Siret spoke just loud enough for me to hear.
“Staviti has called us to Topia. We might have to face a trial.”
I swallowed roughly. “Because of the Chancellor? They found out you killed him?”
A single nod from each of them confirmed my fears.
“When do we go?” I tried to keep the worry fro
m my voice, but as usual, I failed miserably.
“In four sun-cycles we need to cross into Topia,” Yael answered. “We’ll have an informal meeting with Staviti, and then he decides if it goes to trial.” He didn’t seem worried, his words so relaxed and calm.
Meanwhile, I was about to pee myself because I had a very bad feeling about this.
“It’ll be fine, Soldier.” Siret wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer. “Staviti is used to us, we might have our time on Minatsol extended, but I doubt anything else will happen.”
Usually I would have sunk into his heat, into the comfort of touch, the soul-link no longer strained, but the worry just wouldn’t leave.
“What will Staviti say when you bring me along? Does he know you’re linked to a dweller? Does he know I might be a Chaos Beta? Is it a good idea to clue him into those things?”
Coen and Rome moved closer together, their broad shoulders blocking out the entire room.
Coen was the one who answered. “You can’t come with us, Willa. For those very reasons, and a few more. Staviti won’t kill you, but he could make your life very difficult. And we won’t let that happen.”
I knew my brow was furrowed, I could feel my forehead wrinkling right up as I processed those words. “The soul-link will kill me if we’re that far apart.”
Which worried me even less than the fact that every time the six of us were split up, something really terrible happened. Like Cyrus … wait a freaking click!
“You guys better not be thinking about transferring the soul-link to Cyrus again. Because I would rather take my chances with Staviti and Rau.”
Rome’s low growl rumbled through the table to me and I was pretty sure the wood actually vibrated.
Aros spoke up when it didn’t seem as if Rome was going to do more than curse and growl. “We won’t be transferring the link to anyone. Yael had an idea a while ago, and we finally managed to find the right god to help out. There is a way to temporarily extend our link—you’ll be able to be quite a distance from us and not suffer. It would only be temporary, of course. Eventually Rau’s curse would eat through the energy, but it would last long enough for us to get through this meeting, and even long enough for the trial, should it come to that.”
I was slumping into my chair again when dwellers appeared at our table. They carried laden trays of food, all of which were deposited down in front of us. The guys had to move back to make room for the many selections. For once I really didn’t care about the cheesy toast, or the little swimmer puffs.
Before I could stop my hands, they were reaching out and scooping a bunch of both foods onto my plate. Okay, I might have cared a little. Really though, it is important to keep your energy up when you need to argue with five hulking gods.
“You don’t have to argue with us,” Rome said, reaching for a bowl of pasta. “We will do what is necessary to keep you safe.”
“Who keeps you safe? I should be there!” I argued back, before shoving a bite of crunchy bread into my mouth.
Stupid gods and their stupid rules.
“Willa-toy,” Yael’s voice was surprisingly gentle, for him, and I was astonished enough that the bread halted halfway to my mouth as I focused on him and his next words. “We’ll be fine. Staviti would never piss off Abil by trying anything underhanded. He likes to keep the Originals happy.”
Siret then brushed his hand across my hair, ruffling it slightly, and I turned to him. “We’ll be back before you know it.”
My eyes narrowed on him, then with a grunt, I resumed eating. This conversation was definitely not over. I had four sun-cycles to figure out what was going on with Emmy, and to convince the guys that it was much safer for me in Topia with them. Which meant that it was time for another scheme, only this time I wouldn’t have Siret to help me. This time I was on my own.
Three
“So how exactly is this plan going to work? How can we hold off the pain from the soul link?” I asked, toying with the bread still in my hand. “I think Rau did it once before, but it didn’t last long. Only long enough to get me to Topia.”
Aros pushed back his chair, tugging a timepiece from his pocket and checking it, before settling his eyes on my face. “We have about thirty clicks before classes start up again. Grab some more of that bread—since it’s the only damn thing you eat anyway—and we’ll go for a walk. This isn’t the place for these conversations.”
I glanced around at the sols that stared and the dwellers that skirted past him, giving him and the rest of the Abcurse table a wide berth. It was easy to think that they were invincible—that they couldn’t be held accountable for anything in Minatsol because they weren’t from Minatsol, they were from Topia. Unfortunately, that wasn’t true. People still had ears, and dwellers especially still liked to gossip. I was sure that the gods would have spies within the halls, watching every movement the Abcurses made. They clearly didn’t care that they were being watched, but there was always a line. Apparently, discussing the secrets of the gods out in the open was one of those lines.
“Okay.” I nodded, dropping a few slices of the cheesy bread into a napkin and wrapping them up.
I jumped out of my seat, waiting to see who would follow us. When none of the other guys stood, I found my eyebrows inching up in surprise. It wasn’t like them to let me have alone time with the Seduction god. Usually, it caused me to misbehave.
There had to be something else going on.
“Well … bye, then,” I said awkwardly, looking around the table.
“See you in class.” Siret winked at me, before shooting a look to Aros, who ignored it.
“See you, Willa-toy.” Yael only glanced up momentarily before returning to his food.
“Don’t be late for class,” Rome grunted.
I looked to Coen, and he grinned back, his eyes flicking to Aros the same way Siret’s had. I had no idea what that was supposed to mean, so I only shrugged and moved to follow Aros out of the hall. Once we were clear of the doors, I pulled out one of the cheesy bread slices and began to eat, strolling quietly by his side until we were out of the building altogether and walking toward one of the gardens.
“Are you bringing me out here to murder me?” I asked casually, finishing off one slice and moving onto the next.
Aros snorted. “Why would I take you to a rose garden in the middle of the sun-cycle to kill you? Give me a little credit. I’d do it in the dark at least, and at most, I’d pick a more interesting location. Always do a job properly, even if it’s murder.”
I followed him to a bench and plonked myself down, taking more care not to drop the cheesy bread than I took to make sure I plonked myself onto the actual seat. Fortunately, Aros was paying attention, and he caught my arm right before I missed the bench completely, moved me a few inches to the right, and then released me. I resumed plonking, and then resumed eating, all without blinking an eye. I was getting used to our routine of me almost making a fool of myself and of them only just catching me in time.
“Thanks,” I muttered. “But I still think this is weird. I’m only ever alone in the garden with you guys when you’re giving me mind-shielding lessons, and I thought we’d given up on those.”
“You were pretty useless at them,” Aros agreed, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankle, his posture turned to the side as he watched me devour the final slice of cheesy bread.
“Oh, hey,” I frowned, crumpling up the napkin, “with encouragement like that, it’s a wonder I didn’t succeed sooner.”
“I’m about as good at coddling as you are at doing what you’re told, sweetheart.”
I rolled my eyes, stuffing the napkin into the pocket of the pants that had become my staple daytime wear. They were some kind of heavy linen blend that moulded perfectly to my skin, since Siret had been the one to create them. There were leather patches at the knee, and hips—because apparently I needed the extra protection. My shirt was simple: a deep red that I knew now to be the colour of Chaos. Siret h
ad started turning some of my clothes red, and I kind of liked the colour, so I didn’t say anything about the sudden change.
“Are you going to tell me why we’re here?” I prompted. “Because it isn’t to talk about how to escape the pain of the soul-link. I know we could have done that at the table—or if not the table, back in the rooms.”
“I needed to talk to you, Willa.” Aros was suddenly serious, his golden eyes tracking over my face, his hands resting limply in his lap, all of his attention on my reaction.
It was unnerving.
“What about?” I started to fidget, pulling the napkin back out of my pocket and channelling all of my focus into tearing it into very even strips. I paused halfway through my task, after Aros remained silent in answer to my question, and my head snapped up again. “This is another sex talk. Oh my gods. You five are ridiculous and I’m going to punch every single—”
“It’s not a sex talk.” He chuckled, but it sounded strained.
“You’re lying!” I tossed the half-shredded napkin at him and buried my face in my hands. “How many times does this need to happen?”
His laugh was warmer this time, and he captured my wrists, pulling my hands away from my face. “It’s not like that, okay? They just wanted me to … check in with you. After what happened with me and Coen. The way we unlocked your Chaos …”
I stilled, my body going into temporary shock. The last thing I needed was to be reminded of that whole incident in the middle of the sun-cycle, out in the open, where I couldn’t do anything about it.
“Wait just a freaking click,” I demanded, pulling my wrists free and jumping to my feet so that I could look down on him—a move which worked on dwellers and sols, but apparently not Aros. He was still level with me, even with me standing and him sitting.
“It’s not what you think!” he held up his hands, attempting to pacify me.