Persuasion (Curse of the Gods Book 2)

by Jane Washington

Aros jerked against the hands holding him, a feral look crossing over his beautiful face. For a moment, I was truly scared that he was about to tear Siret apart, but the two gods holding him managed to wrangle him back another step. There was some part of me crying out, some part of my chest that felt like it had been ripped away. They had warned me that dwellers weren’t strong enough to withstand too much exposure to their powers, but I hadn’t realised just how right they were until that moment. I needed to sooth myself by touching one of them, and Siret was right there, his back displayed to me. I reached out without even thinking, winding my shaking arms around his neck from behind, pressing the lower half of my face against the back of his shoulder, my eyes peeking over at the others.

  I was astounded at the change that came over Aros.

  He watched as Siret dropped his hands to my knees, which had slipped to either side of his torso, and he stopped fighting Rome and Yael immediately. Coen was standing right beside Siret, looking ready to jump in between everyone and break up the whole fight if he needed to—but even he had stopped to look our way. The fight drained out of Aros, and his eyes stopped swirling with the bright golden colour that had started to speck his irises. They were back to normal now, and he offered me a smile that was almost … well, it looked like an apology.

  “Thanks,” I croaked out, my voice dashed against Siret’s shirt—a clean shirt, I noticed. He must have changed his clothes with Trickery while I had been … busy.

  The apology fled from Aros’s face, and his smile became a little wider. “Thanks?”

  “For the … you know.” The most terrifying and amazing kiss ever. “Healing the cuts and stuff.”

  He chuckled, and a few scattered laughs bounced around the room. They had heard my thought.

  Great.

  At least we’d moved on from almost killing each other to laughing at me again.

  Eleven

  After that, Siret used his Trickery to ensure the rest of me, outside of my cleaned wounds, was relatively mud free. And also dressed: this time in a long-sleeved black top and fitted pants. The material felt thick, but somehow still moved fluidly with me as I walked.

  “You’ll be better protected in this, since you insist on staying for round two.” He still sounded pretty angry. About as angry as the rest of them looked.

  “I’m not leaving you five to face the arena, or the gods, alone. No way. I need to see with my own eyes that you’re all okay. Plus, I totally have your backs if anything goes down.”

  They shook their heads, though they were grinning, which was fair enough since I was actually no use to them … but leaving them felt wrong.

  “And let’s not forget,” I continued as we walked back to the main stands, ready to watch the other rounds. “I can’t be away from you. I’d literally have to sit outside the stadium, or closer. So what’s the point of leaving?”

  We were heading toward the ‘blood-splatter’ section again. A row I was now reluctantly claiming as ours. I really disliked this level of the arena—what with its close proximity to the beheading area—but the Abcurses kept dragging me back there anyway, so I might as well just resign myself to the fact that it was our row.

  Lots of eyes were on us as we stepped along the rows, following the six of us with close inspection. Which was odd, considering sols were probably dying in the arena right at that moment. Some would think they’d be more interested in that. But no, they were lingering on the hand Rome had pressed against my lower spine, or how Yael reached out and clasped my forearm, preventing me from tripping down the stairs before I could even try to trip down the stairs.

  I was lingering on those things too, mostly because my body was still all worked up from Aros’s kiss, and each touch from them sent even more energy through my body. A body which was partially numb from the gel, and partially numb from the overload of sensations rocking it. I was sure that my brain was blocking some of it out to protect me from accidental self-combustion.

  As we took our seats I swallowed hard and spoke just loud enough for the five of them to hear. “I think I’m starting to understand the pact.”

  Rome, who was on my left, and Yael, on my right, turned toward me in an instant. “Are you okay?” Rome demanded. “What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head, stretching out my sore legs, before realising that I was only making the lingering pain from my healed cuts even worse, so I tucked them in again. “Just … Aros’s power affected me. Is affecting me. I’m not sure what long term exposure would do.”

  Aros was staring out into the arena, his goldenness somewhat dimmed by the darkness of his expression. “I’m sorry, Willa. I couldn’t think of another way … your pain is …”

  He trailed off and Coen picked up the rest of the sentence. “When you’re hurting, we’re hurting.”

  “My pain doesn’t bother me,” Siret added, “but for some reason, yours …”

  “It bothers us a lot,” Yael finished.

  They were staring at me and I was both overwhelmed and confused by their words. I knew we had a connection—my sneaky soul and Rau had pretty much ensured that—but this felt like more. This felt bigger. But if I was just a regular dweller, who clearly couldn’t handle their god powers, then what was this thing between us?

  “We’re confused too.” Rome was all gruff as he spoke, turning to stare out into the arena. “But there’s no more time for us to discuss this, we need to figure out how to keep Willa from the arena again.”

  Now all of my attention was back on the death maze below. I stared toward a few sols, who looked to be battling a huge beast right in the centre of a sandy section. If four sols had gone into this round, there were only three of them left, darting around the monster.

  “What in Topia is that?” I shifted forward on my seat to see better, trying to get a clear view of the creature. It was long and muscular, a dark swampy green in colour, with spikes running all the way down it’s back. Flashes of teeth shone each time it chomped, and it looked as if it had multiple layers of sharp incisors in its mouth.

  “It’s a kragill.” Siret leaned forward to rest his forearms against the barrier. “They live in the water and are pretty rare. But knowing Blesswood, I wouldn’t be surprised if they had some in the lake surrounding the academy.”

  Next time I was in my village, I was definitely telling them how lucky they were that all the great lakes and rivers were dried up. Personally, I was never stepping foot in a puddle of water bigger than a bucket ever again. Who knew what was lingering below? This kragill thing was probably just one of many things waiting in lakes to kill dwellers.

  “Will we have to face it too?”

  No one answered me, which was probably because they had no idea.

  “I’ll keep you safe, Willa,” Siret muttered. “I won’t fail you this time.”

  Reaching across Yael, my hand wrapped around Siret’s arm, giving it a squeeze. “You didn’t fail me last time. None of you have ever failed me. I wouldn’t trust my life with anyone else—only you five.”

  I meant every word, and it almost felt like a promise for the future. At some point I knew I would be completely entrusting my life to them. In an unexpected move, Rome suddenly slammed his fists against the barrier, causing the entire side to shake. I pulled back from Siret, turning toward Rome.

  “They better call some more of us for the first round.” His words were clipped, anger spilling out.

  Coen was frowning. “Something tells me we were lucky to have even one of us included. They don’t want her to die, not yet anyway. But they also don’t want to make it too easy for her.”

  I wiggled a little to get comfortable, my body was still protesting the recent abuse, and everything felt uncomfortable and itchy as the gel worked to do whatever it was doing. My cuts themselves were healed, but I could still feel the gel doing something to me.

  “If they don’t want me dead, then what’s the point of including me at all?” I asked. “What’s the point of this new, mid-moon-cycle
round in the arena?”

  I didn’t understand the gods. I didn’t understand a lot of things, but someone knew, and I was hoping that the someone would be an Abcurse.

  “It really depends on which god is in the box.” Yael sounded somewhat reluctant as he spoke. “If it’s Rau, then he’s probably hoping to see what his curse has wrought, or to see if maybe you’re going to start sprouting Chaos wherever you walk.”

  I was sure that Rau’s intention had been to hit an Abcurse; to turn them to his side of the battle with Staviti. When I got in the way, whatever plan had been in motion had changed. It made sense that Rau would want to keep an eye on me, or to test me in some way.

  Siret gave a nod. “If it’s Abil … he’s probably testing us. Trying to see how important you are to us. He might be our father, but he loves to have any sort of leverage to use against us. It’s how he maintains control.”

  “What about your mother?” I asked, realising they never really talked about her. She was an Original God too, but they only ever seemed to be concerned with their father.

  There was a beat of silence, as though my words had struck a note with them and they didn’t know how to answer.

  Yael was the one to reply, his voice low. “Our mother is on an extended spiritual retreat. We haven’t heard from her for quite a few life-cycles. She does this every fifty or so life-cycles though, so it’s nothing to worry about.”

  He had said that there was nothing to worry about, but they all seemed … well, worried.

  Where did gods go for spiritual retreats anyway? And more importantly, was there nobody around who would stand against their father for them?

  “Are you five stronger than Abil?” I wasn’t asking for my safety, but for my peace of mind. I needed to know that none of them would get hurt if things went down. I wasn’t sure that I could live in a world without all of them. They had become as fundamental to me as breathing. Literally. If they went back to Topia and left me behind, I would probably die from soul-pain.

  Again, no one said anything for a few clicks, and I tried to control my breathing as I waited for the answer. The sols in the arena stole some of my attention when they managed to knock the beast down and moved out. It looked like three more were through to round two.

  More names flashed up on the screen; the announcer started calling sols to the underground room. Rome and Coen’s names were in this group, and I was a combination of relieved and freaking-the-hell-out. Just as Coen was about to launch himself over the barrier, he turned and stared down at me, deciding to answer my question after all.

  “We’re stronger than Abil, stronger than most of the original gods.” He leaned over me, as though trying to see my face better, and his eyes tracked between mine, reading me carefully. “No one can know that, Rocks. It’s information our father would kill to keep contained. Information that Staviti should never have either. There’s a reason born gods are not supposed to exist; we haven’t been killed because we stay under the radar.”

  He stared at me for a fraction of a click, watching the information soak in, and then he was following his brother down into the arena. Without realising it, I was on my feet, both hands gripping the barrier as I tracked their movements.

  “They’ll be okay, right?” I swivelled around to the three brothers left with me.

  “Sit down, Willa-toy.” Yael reached forward to grab my wrist and pull me back into my seat. “They’ll be fine. This is actually great news. It means that at least three of us will be in the second round with you.”

  “But you said that wouldn’t happen, so what does this mean? The second round is going to be even worse than we expect?”

  What the heck was going to be in the second round that the gods thought I needed three Abcurses to keep me alive? I really wished I knew which of the gods were up in that glass box.

  Yael was opening his mouth, probably to attempt to calm me down, when words began to spill from my lips. “Should we just bust in there and figure out who’s running this show?” My legs tensed as I prepared myself to launch up—before I remembered Rome and Coen. I needed to stay where I was, to keep an eye on them. Not that my watching them would change any outcomes. I was so confused about what to do, I was pretty much jumping in and out of my seat. Relief trickled through me when I saw that the twins were already moving easily through the obstacles, leaving the sols in their particular round far behind. It was so different up in the seats, watching them effortlessly manoeuvre through the traps and hazards.

  “What happened in the mud-pit?” Yael asked as he moved his arm so that it was resting behind me. I decided to stay put for the rest of the round, so I allowed myself to relax against him, needing the comfort of his touch.

  “I have no idea. I was under the mud fighting the blacktips when everything started to get really hot, which solidified the mud. The harder the mud got, the more I was able to use it to pull and kick myself up. It was almost like the mud was helping me get out, like it was pushing me up …” Which, come to think of it … “Why didn’t Johnny’s body rise too? He was stuck under the solid mud, but he should have risen up!” A note of hysteria crept into my tone as I mentioned the sol, his chewed-up arm flashing through my mind.

  “You burst from the mud like someone pushed you up through it.” Yael’s hard words brought me back from the place in my head where the sad memories were momentarily keeping me trapped.

  “Where were you all when that happened? How did you get down to us so quickly?”

  Aros answered this time. “After you went under, a blast of heat knocked everyone in the entire arena down. By the time we got up, you were out of the mud with Trickery and we were already on our way to the underground area. That kind of power … only a god could have managed it, otherwise it never would have knocked us out along with everyone else. But we got there as quickly as we could. We needed to see that you were okay.”

  A half-grin tipped up the corner of my lips. “I knew you five liked me.”

  Yael cast a half-slanted brow in my direction. “Don’t push it. We could probably learn to unlike you just as quickly.”

  I snorted and shook my head a few times; the straggly strands of my hair, which had fallen from my ponytail, brushed across my neck. “I don’t doubt that for a click, Emmy is the only friend I’ve ever had who has stuck around longer than a few moon-cycles.”

  I was side-tracked by a kragill attack on Rome and Coen, who were now in the centre of the arena. I had no idea if this was a new water beast, or if the last one had been recovered somehow, but either way … I didn’t like all those sharp teeth snapping at my guys.

  I swallowed a shriek as Coen strolled right up to it—something which made Siret snort in amusement. When the beast opened up its massive jaw and snapped hard, Coen jumped right on top of it. The pair wrestled for a while, Rome standing to the side and looking bored while he waited for his brother to finish. Then, in a rapid movement, Coen lifted the kragill up and shot-putted it across the entire Sacred Sand arena, where it smashed into the god box.

  Gasps and cries were let out en masse, the crowd all on their feet as they waited for some kind of retaliation.

  “Breathe, Willa.” Siret’s softly spoken words were enough for me to notice that I was also on my feet, my hands clenched at my sides, my breath rattling inside my chest.

  “Why would they do that?” I let the panic take control, and my breathing became even more laboured. “Now they’re going to come down and fight. And that stupid box might be full of the most angry and dangerous and revengey gods in Topia.”

  “Revengey?” Siret caught both of my hands, wrestling me back into my seat again. “What the hell are you trying to say?”

  “I think she means vengeful,” Yael noted, sounding vaguely amused as he turned his attention back to the fight again. Coen hadn’t even paused to wait for the reaction of whatever mysterious god or gods were currently hiding away in the glass box.

  I watched on the edge of my seat—with my hand
s held prisoner in my lap—as Rome and Coen leapt over walls meant to stay giants, and fought off monsters meant to challenge the strongest beings in Minatsol. Their particular round in the arena looked far more dangerous than mine had been. And that was considering the fact that I had almost been eaten alive. It took only five clicks for the first sol to die, and the second was lost halfway through—wrapped up in the punishing grip of yet another monster—after which he was veritably pulled apart. I felt sick to my stomach by the time Rome and Coen strolled to the end of the arena, moving down the stairs and into the underground chamber at the end. We all waited for the next round of names to be called, but it didn’t happen. The magic dropped from the obstacle course like a sheet pulled from a bed, leaving only the bare mattress of enchanted sand for us all to stare at.

  “Holy shit!” I jumped to my feet, staring at the arena—which now looked just the same as it always had. “Where? How?”

  “Trickery,” Siret said with a frown. He had been forced to jump up beside me, since he was still keeping my hands prisoner.

  I was about to ask what the hell he meant by that—since I was pretty sure that the whole obstacle course hadn’t been an illusion. It certainly hadn’t felt like an illusion. Sols had created it all, right? Not to mention illusions probably couldn’t eat people. Probably. Okay … nothing was really impossible when it came to the gods.

  “Oh,” I replied, suddenly understanding. “Wait … your da--Abil did this? Got rid of all of that?” I waved my hand toward the sand: toward where at least a handful of people had already died that sun-cycle, toward where Vintage-the-mean-version-of-Jeffrey had made it abundantly clear that this whole surprise challenge had at least something to do with the Abcurses and me, if not a little more than something. Like possibly everything.

  “This has Abil written all over it,” Yael confirmed, rising on my other side. “He no doubt assisted those sols earlier, helping them create everything.”

  Aros had been quiet ever since we had come back outside, and he remained seated now, his eyes fixed to the god-box.