by Jaymin Eve
“Would the Sacred Ones like to make their own dinner?” she asked us, displaying the animal.
I winced at the high-pitched squeal of the animal, quickly shaking my head. “You can probably take that one back to wherever you found it.”
“I found it at the farm of the lowly and dirty dweller, Jay Gallagher,” she replied calmly, before promptly disappearing.
I grimaced, actually distracted from our current stand-off. I waited until she returned to frown at the food again before I voiced the question niggling at the forefront of my mind.
“You stole a dweller’s mudhog?”
Donald nodded enthusiastically.
I waited, but she didn’t elucidate. With a sigh, I asked the follow-up question. “Why did you steal a dweller’s mudhog?”
“Because you weren’t eating.”
“No …” I pressed my fingers quickly to my temples, casting a sideways glance at Aros. He seemed to have relaxed a little, a small smile curving his lips as he glanced back and forth between me and Donald. Even Rome had relaxed, holding me gently in his lap. They had probably already figured out why Donald was doing the things that Donald did … but they were content to amuse themselves with watching me figure it out.
So I tried again. “Why didn’t you bring a mudhog from Topia?”
“The food comes from the Basin of Abundance,” Donald told me. “Not from the mudhog. But the Sacred Ones are not permitted entrance to the dormires, where the Basin of Abundance is used.”
“So you popped into Minatsol and stole a dweller’s mudhog,” I finished for her.
She nodded enthusiastically again, and I suspected that I was supposed to applaud her for her ingenuity. The almost expectant look on her face was odd. I might have been going crazy, but I was sure that she had somehow become even less like a proper Topian server since I had woken up almost a dozen sun-cycles ago in Pica’s home.
“Why aren’t the gods allowed in the…,” I began to ask the Abcurses, before trailing off, forgetting the name for the server residences.
“Dormires,” Yael supplied, meeting my eyes directly across the table. “And I doubt anyone has asked that question before. We’ve been led to believe that they have their own personal little caverns that they can disappear into when they aren’t needed. A reset space where they are serviced and maintained. Apparently, that’s also where they manifest the food and drink, using the Cup of Staviti and the Platter of Staviti.”
“But do they all use the same one?” I asked, glancing around at the others, before settling my gaze again on Donald. “Do you all have to share the cup and platter?”
“Our dormires all connect to the Pool of Abundance,” Donald answered. “We walk along one of the pathways, and a cart follows behind us on tracks. Once we reach the centre, we must touch the platter and ask for the food. It fills the plates and bowls on our cart. For the drink, we touch the cup and the pitchers on our cart are filled. Many servers at once can do this: the platter and the cup never get confused.”
“I suppose it’s easier and quicker than breeding mudhogs,” I admitted with an uneasy shrug. I wasn’t sure how I felt about eating and drinking everything in front of me now that I knew exactly how it was made.
Did it mean that we were constantly putting traces of Staviti’s energy into our bodies, or did it mean that we were constantly putting traces of Topia’s energy into our bodies? I supposed it didn’t really matter, considering Staviti’s magic came from Topia anyway. A small piece of the Topian puzzle clicked into place then, as I remembered my first trip into Topia with the Abcurses. I had stolen the cup from Abil’s belt, and we had used it to keep the trapped servers at bay as we passed through the banishment cave. They hadn’t approached us while we held the cup because it was laced with Staviti’s energy—and Staviti controlled them, even in their damaged state …
“Oh my gods,” I said aloud, my eyes widening in realisation. “The magic of Topia isn’t shifting. Staviti is shifting everything. He is controlling the broken servers, he is infecting the panteras. They couldn’t possibly be rebelling against his control over them, because even the wraiths in the banishment cave still obeyed his energy—they didn’t attack us while we held the cup. His control over them is absolute.”
The others were silent for a moment, until gradually, every one of them turned to fix their eyes on … Donald.
“No,” I said quickly. “Not her. She’s different. He didn’t fully turn her into a server—she isn’t even qualified. Remember when I got lost out past the ninth ring and discovered the guardians and their temple, where specific dweller-corpses were delivered? Well, there were certain specifications. It wasn’t just any dead body. It wasn’t just any dweller. That’s why my mother turned out like this. Because she doesn’t meet all the requirements. She was always doomed to be a flawed, malfunctioning server. It was never her purpose. Her purpose was just to send me a message.”
“Her purpose was to bring you to Topia,” Siret reminded me. “Staviti turned her into a server and then sent her to Blesswood with orders to bring you back to Topia.”
“But she didn’t.” I tossed my arms out. “She failed her task.”
“I did not fail my task, Sacred One,” Donald replied. “You are in Topia. I brought you to Staviti. That was my task.”
For just a moment, terror flooded into me, my limbs locking up. I almost expected Staviti to jump out from the bathing chamber or knock on the front door … but he didn’t.
“I brought myself to Topia,” I told Donald. “And Staviti isn’t here, he’s—”
“Here,” Siret cut across me with a laugh. “Staviti is everywhere in Topia. His energy has been wound through the very foundation of this land. Technically, she did bring you back to him.”
“I brought myself here!” I reiterated.
A few chuckles sounded from around the table, but I only shook my head. I knew that I should just let it go, but I needed to be absolutely sure that this was just another Donald aberration and not some kind of trap.
I turned a little more on Rome’s lap, fixing her with a level stare. “Donald?” I asked.
“Yes, Sacred and Mighty Willa the Naked?”
Siret snorted. “I forgot I taught her that.”
I bit on my lip to hide my smile, trying to keep a stern expression on my face. “Please explain to me exactly how you managed to bring me to Topia?”
“I told you that I was required to take you back to Topia, and then you came back to Topia. You have honour and gumption.”
“Honour and gumption?” I repeated, choking on the last word.
Donald nodded again, this time almost sagely. “Only one with honour and gumption would have fulfilled the request with such promptness. You are the Great Gumption One.”
I groaned, my head falling into my hands as I shook it back and forth. “I knew I should have just left it.”
“You can go back to your dormire now,” Rome said with a gravelly laugh, pulling me a little tighter back into his chest.
As soon as Donald disappeared, I leaned forward and snagged some cheesy bread before settling back to snuggle into Rome as I ate. I would concede, for now. But only because I was hungry. As soon as I finished eating, I was going to force Rome to use his Strength on me, and then I was going to force Coen to use his Pain on me. Maybe it would only be a little bit, but I was going to prove that they didn’t need to restrain themselves so much.
I wasn’t a delicate little dweller anymore. I was a god now, and I needed them to start treating me as an immortal being with resilience to match their own. We suited each other in most ways, but I wasn’t going to be happy until we were able to exist around each other in near perfect harmony. I wanted them to be comfortable. I wanted them to be themselves … and for Coen and Rome, I wanted to be the one person that they didn’t have to hold themselves back with. The one person who would always welcome their Pain and their Strength, as long as it meant that I could be close to them.
I
t had to start with them. Their powers were considered the most harmful, and their method of holding back had been ingrained in them the longest. Once I had managed to break down that barrier, the newest barrier with Aros would naturally crumble. I was sure of that. It might have seemed like an overly complicated solution to the problem, but sometimes the hardest methods were the best ones. I had never taken the easy way in the past and I certainly wasn’t going to start now.
“This isn’t over yet,” I said quickly, as I polished off one slice of bread and leaned forward again for another.
Aros—who had been reaching for a bowl of pasta—paused, his eyes flicking to mine. I held his gaze until gradually, the minuscule smile that I had seen earlier began to resurface.
“I expected nothing less, sweetheart.”
He glanced away then, and Rome’s hand slipped to my thigh, squeezing gently. “Still not going to crush you, Willa.”
I snuggled back into his chest with my second slice of bread, nibbling at it while he held me. I didn’t offer a reply, because I was sure that they could all feel the determination radiating from me. No matter what they said, this was a battle they had already lost.
Three
I eventually moved from Rome’s lap, walking around to Siret’s place beside Yael and claiming his lap instead. I had used the excuse that Rome needed to eat—an almost impossible feat with me standing as a barrier between him and all of the food that moved past my face on the way to his mouth. The real reason, however, was considerably less altruistic.
“Hypothetically speaking,” I whispered to Siret as the others all busied themselves with eating, “if you disguised one god as another god—would that god’s friends and family be able to tell?”
He quickly gripped my chin, pulling my head back from where it had been craning to whisper into his ear. He fixed me with his mischievous eyes, and I knew that he was about to clue everyone else at the table in to what I had said, so I quickly spoke again.
“I mean … I was just thinking about Fakey and her friend, and how they managed to trick us—but then you all said that they wouldn’t be able to do it again. That you would recognise her energy. But nobody could tell the difference when I was disguised as Aros before we were sent to Champion’s Peak. Shouldn’t the others have recognised his energy?”
“The difference between Aros and that sol back in Minatsol is that he’s a god,” Siret answered. “Her power was elementary compared to ours. There are holes and weaknesses in every sol’s power—but not in ours. Our power is fully evolved, fed by the energy of Topia itself.”
I nodded, stealing his fork as it moved past my face and quickly swallowing the delicious savoury biscuit before he could stop me.
“That makes sense,” I said, as he watched me with amusement. “Maybe we could walk back to Pica’s residence, and you can show me?”
I mentioned Pica only as a distraction so that none of the others would ask about the plan.
“I don’t know whether to admire the fact that she’s managed to come up with a plan without thinking about it at all,” Aros muttered, “or be annoyed that she didn’t think about it at all, so now I don’t know what it is.”
“It’s a little bit impressive.” Rome shrugged, but there was a slightly annoyed look on his face, too.
“It won’t end well,” Coen promised. “Will, think about every time you’ve ever tried to cook up a plan with Trickery. Someone usually gets hurt.”
I kept my mouth shut and my mind blank, but I quickly leaned back up to Siret’s ear to whisper one last thing.
“Stand up and switch us.”
He grinned, securing his arm around my waist and rising to his feet, taking me with him. When he set me down again, I stepped away, hoping that the Abcurses were seeing Siret step away instead of me.
“Maybe Siret just needed a second chance,” Siret said, turning and winking at me.
Game on.
“I am the better brother.” I nodded, finding it very strange that I still appeared as myself and sounded like myself—though from the looks on the faces before me, they were seeing and hearing Siret instead. “It would make sense that she would pick me to come to for help. The rest of you are too responsible.”
I made a face that was supposed to convey something along the lines of: yuck, responsibility. I caught Siret subtly rolling his eyes.
“What the fuck, Trickery?” Rome pushed his chair back, rising to his feet. “Don’t let it all go to your head.”
I stalked over to Rome, trying to embody the cocky swagger of a god, even though that wasn’t how Siret walked.
“Didn’t you think that maybe she was trying to get me alone so that we could sleep together tonight without the rest of you?” I asked, stopping in front of him.
I just needed to anger him enough that he would hit me, or crush me, or do whatever Rome did when he was angry. I needed to prove that I could take it. I needed to prove that I was equal to them—not a thing to be wrapped in a bubble and protected from everything, including their own powers.
Rome was looking at where he thought I was still standing, his brows arched at the real Siret. “Is that true?”
“He told me you were all wanting to back out of the deal,” Siret said, pointing at me. As usual, he had caught on to my plan almost as quickly as I had formed it.
The fist was flying at my face before I’d even had a chance to confirm or deny the allegations. I had meant to stand there and “take it,” but my instincts kicked in at the last moment. I ducked to the side, the fist passing right by me. As I dodged the assault, I realised that there was a better way to prove my point after all. I curled my own fingers up into a fist and drove it into Rome’s stomach. I had expected it to hurt, as it usually did … but I was a god now. I didn’t trip or accidently headbutt him. My fist connected with one of his ribs and I felt the give of bone as the air whooshed out of him and he stumbled back. He only knocked into the chair behind him and barely stumbled before stepping forward again and reaching for me, a curse slipping from his lips.
He paused when his hand was only an inch from my neck, his eyes widening. He glanced back to the real Siret, and then to me again, shock slowly descending over his features. I assumed that Siret had dropped the illusion to protect me, which had annoyance niggling in the back of my mind, but I pushed it aside to run back to him, planting myself in front of him. As expected, it didn’t take long for the other Abcurses to figure out what had happened; they started to advance on Siret almost immediately.
Surprisingly, it was Aros who finally pulled Rome back. He shouldered his way through the wall of angry muscle that had fanned out before Siret, coming to stand in front of me.
“I understand,” he muttered, his hands finding the sides of my face. “We all understand.” He shot a quick, narrow-eyed look over his shoulder at the others. “You aren’t weak. We don’t need to protect you. I think we all heard you snap one of Rome’s bones just then. We’ve been telling you that you’re special for a long time, but you’re also different now. Different to how you were before.”
He trailed off, his eyes tracing over my features. He seemed to be in awe of me, somehow. I waited with bated breath as the tension slowly filtered out of the room, a heavy, breathless quiet taking its place.
“You came back from the imprisonment realm.” Coen finally spoke, and one of Aros’s hands slipped from my face just as Coen’s hand rose, warming the briefly exposed skin.
Standing side by side, each of them with a hand cupping my face and their eyes looking down at me with astonished, adoring expressions, it was easy to fall in love with Aros and Coen all over again. The others weren’t going to be outdone, though.
“And you brought a piece of your mother back with you,” Yael added, the persuasive ring of his tone somehow forcing his brothers to part and make room for him. Their hands dropped from my face, but Yael’s palms were quickly warming the outsides of my arms as they slipped up to my shoulders, his head ducking down to
fix me with bright green eyes.
“And then you brought your sister back from the dead,” Rome grunted, almost begrudgingly. He didn’t want to be the last person to apologise to me, but from the flash of regret in his eyes when he shouldered Yael to the side, I could tell that he couldn’t wait any longer.
Yael’s jaw clenched, but Aros’s hand fell on his shoulder, the touch reassuring. Yael relaxed a little, and I threw my arms around Rome’s neck. He breathed out a surprised breath, his arms wrapping around me. I squeaked out a sound at the sudden strength in his embrace. My entire middle felt constricted, pressed inward, my breath tight. Strength leaked from his limbs, surrounding me. Several moon-cycles ago, I would have panicked. Several moon-cycles ago, I might have even punctured a major organ. Now, however, I only squirmed. I squirmed to get closer, to move against the firm muscles of the body I was being crushed against, to savour the way his body was embedding itself into mine.
Behind me, Siret took a small step closer. I reached back, catching a handful of his robe and pulling him more firmly against my spine. His hand landed on my hip, his breath warm against the top of my head.
“Are we okay?” I asked, one hand latched onto Rome’s shoulder and the other tangled in Siret’s robe.
“Almost,” a voice replied.
We broke apart, turning to look at the figure in the doorway. A man stood in the opening, his long hair dreadlocked and falling about his chest. His eyes were an earthy brown, somehow both deep and luminous at once. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, only an animal skin tied about his hips above soft brown leather pants and leather boots. Several leather ties and pouches were secured along a strap that ran diagonally along the length of his bare chest.