Strength (Curse of the Gods #4)(21)

So much had happened. I died for the love of the gods. But being here with Emmy, in that moment, was almost like we were back home in our sector. Just two trouble makers—okay, one trouble maker—and a simple life.

“Missed you too, Will.” She was choked up. “I haven’t even had to save one life since you’ve been gone.”

I pulled back so that I could shoot her a grin. “Well, I’m back now, so you better brush up on your healer skills.”

Being back with Emmy—and hearing myself say the word ‘healer’—triggered a memory for me. “Have you heard anything about Evie? How are her burns?” It wasn’t like I had forgotten that my ‘fire’ power had burned a dweller almost to death. I hadn’t forgotten it at all, just like the wraiths in the caves. It was on my list of things I needed to deal with or do something about. But there were only so many places I could be, especially while hiding from Staviti. I was really hoping Emmy was going to tell me that Evie was almost fully recovered. Just a few little burn marks remaining. Maybe a scab or two … no oozing sores, though. That sounded like too much.

“She’s …” Emmy hesitated, and my heart sank. “She’s doing the best that she can. The burns were extensive and the healers don’t believe that the fire was normal in nature. They’re a bit stumped on how to heal her.”

Nope, the fire was not normal at all. It was from my stupid powers. I needed to help her, I had to figure out a way. Maybe the Abcurses would know what to do. I was distracted then as Emmy’s eyes went very wide; she looked up over my head. Swinging around I found a wall of muscled gods surrounding us.

“Hey, Abcurses,” Emmy said, recovering from her shock quickly. “For a click there I thought Willa was here on her own. Guess I should have known better.”

She didn’t sound resentful, exactly, but there was a slight undertone there. When her gaze came back to meet mine, I raised one eyebrow.

I thought she was going to shrug my questioning look off, but then she let out a long sigh. “I’m just not sure how many more ‘god’ situations I can handle. I sometimes wish my best friend could just be Willa again. On occasion. Not Willa and her gods.”

Willa and her gods. I liked the sound of that, though it hurt my heart to hear the sadness in Emmy’s tone. I understood: we’d been a team for a long time, and now the dynamics had changed. The new members on my team were certainly not the sort she expected … or wanted. It was complicated. Emmy had only ever wanted a normal life, to be the best dweller she could be. To serve the gods and make the rest of us look like lazy morons.

I’d gone and screwed that up by dragging her into this.

“I’m sorry.” I hugged her quickly again. “But at least I can be away from them now, no need for the stone anymore. So … there’s that. We can have some family time, just the two of us.”

Emmy was the one now with the raised eyebrow and confused expression. “You can be away from them now? What happened?”

Right … I had forgotten that she didn’t know I was dead. My eyes quickly darted across the Abcurses, hoping that one of them would jump in and tell her what had happened. Emmy was not going to take it well—of that I had no doubt. My pleading expression was met with a range of grins, some lazy, others smirking, but not one of them looked like they were going to save me from Emmy.

I couldn’t really blame them. My best friend was scary. Even for powerful gods.





Five





Just as I took a deep breath, preparing myself for what was to come, a god walked across the stage, stopping in the centre and staring out across the masses. His robes were almost the exact colour of the walls behind him, which should have caused him to blend in.

Only Cyrus would never blend in, no matter what he wore.

“What the hell is Cyrus doing here?” Emmy asked. “He’s the worst of you all, always in my business, touching my things.”

I knew better than anyone how much she hated it when you moved her stuff around. Or lost it. Or traded it to the tavern owner in the hopes that he’d kick your mum out of his establishment for two nights.

“Staviti told him that this was his to oversee,” Aros explained. “He wasn’t exactly happy about the order.”

“ATTENTION!” the Neutral god bellowed, making me jump almost out of my skin. I brought my hands to my ears and glared toward the stage.

It seemed as though half of the other gathered bodies had displayed a similar reaction to me, because one of the dwellers was being helped from the floor, and Cyrus was wearing the smallest hint of a smirk.

“You’re all here because you were chosen,” he announced, a sharpness to his tone that hinted at impatience. He was still projecting his voice far too loudly. “And I’m here because I’m clearly being punished for something. As you were told when you received the invitation to attend Champions Peak, each sol here is decidedly the most powerful of their particular ability, and they are being given an opportunity to train with a god sharing that same ability. WHAT THIS MEANS—” his voice broke out into a shout again because some of the sols had started excitedly murmuring. “What this means,” he repeated impatiently, clearing his throat, “is that each sol will be working with a god. Every sun-cycle. For the remainder of this life cycle. At the end of the life cycle, every single sol at Champions Peak will be sacrificed to the will of the gods—those who have proven themselves worthy will ascend to Topia. Those remaining …” he glanced around as the unease began to stir through the gathered bodies again. “Well, they’ll just be dead.”