Strength (Curse of the Gods #4)(58)

“Why do you think they wouldn’t come with us?” I asked, as I spotted movement ahead. A flash of black fur.

“It probably has something to do with the banished servers,” Aros replied. “They were originally of Minatsol, and then they were brought here, infused with the magic of this land, and then banished to a cave, most of the magic stripped away. Those souls are lost, stuck between worlds.”

“Souls?” I paused, almost tripping over an extended tree root. “You think the servers have souls?”

“Of course they do.” Coen was the one to answer me this time. “You’ve seen what it looks like to take away the full soul of a person—it renders them as good as dead. The servers are still functioning: walking, talking, obeying orders. He has preserved at least part of their soul.”

I glanced behind at my mother. She didn’t seem to be listening, though she met my eyes when I looked at her.

“Do you have a soul?” I asked her.

She lifted her shoulders in a stiff shrug. I waited for more, but nothing else came. I sighed. It was worth a try.

“Do you know what a soul is?” Siret asked her, surprising me.

“Yes of course, Sacred One,” was her reply.

“Really?” I pressed. “Can you point to it?”

She nodded, and then pointed at her nose.

“Just to confirm.” I stopped walking and turned fully to face her, the others pausing around me. “Your soul is ... your nose?”

“Exactly, Sacred One.”

“She doesn’t know what her soul is,” I told Siret, rolling my eyes and continuing on toward the panteras.

We must hurry. Leden’s voice filled my mind, and I watched as she pushed through the dense foliage, revealing herself to me. Your time has almost run out.

We helped my mother onto one of the panteras, and then I climbed onto Leden, holding on tightly as she propelled herself from the ground, her wings beating against the trees as she rose into the sky. She was flying faster than usual, and it was too dark for me to make out much of the scenery, so I buried my face into her soft fur, protecting my cheeks from the sharp sting of the wind and emerging only when she began to slow again, dropping back to the ground. She had taken us back to the Garden of Everlasting, right where we had started.

“When will I see you again?” I asked her as the Abcurses all muttered their soft gratitude to their respective panteras.

Soon, Willa Knight. She nudged my face gently with her nose, and my hands reached up instinctively, flattening down over the soft fur between her eyes.

“Is there anything you can tell me?” I tried one last time. “Anything about what the cave showed me, about Staviti and Jakan, about what I am? Anything?”

If you cannot see the full picture, what must you do? she asked me, her wings stretching out in preparation for flight.

“Find the rest of the picture?” I guessed. “Find the missing piece?”

And what is missing from what you saw? she returned.

I thought hard, trying to figure out what might have been left out of the scenes, what I might not have picked up on, but my mind kept getting snagged on Jakan—the piece that didn’t make sense.

Why does Jakan not make sense? Leden seemed to be hinting at something, as the other panteras rose into the sky.

I realised, then, what she meant. Jakan himself was the missing piece, because he was quite literally missing. I needed to find him, or at least find out more about him. Maybe one of the other gods knew something.

“Thank you,” I told Leden, as she pushed up from the ground. “Thank you for everything.”

“We need to hurry,” Rome told me, reaching my side. “Take hold of Donald—this transition might be hard for her.”

I nodded, moving to my mother’s side and taking her hand. She glanced at me, and then pulled her hand out of mine.

“My apologies, Sacred One.”

I blinked at her, confused, and took her hand again. She pulled it away again.

“My apologies, Sacred One.”

“What the hell are you apologising for?” I finally asked, attempting to take her hand again. She kept shifting it away.

“I keep running into you,” she explained.

“Gods give me strength,” I muttered, before taking her hand again. “I’m touching you, Donald. It’s deliberate. Stop apologising.”

“Oh.” She blinked. “My apologies, Sacred One. I didn’t realise you were initiating intimate protocol.”

“Intimate ... what now?” I managed, as she pulled her hand out of my grasp again and started walking away. “Intimate what?” I yelled after her, before turning on the guys. “What the hell is she talking about? What is she doing?”

Coen coughed. Aros was shaking his head. Siret looked uncomfortable.

“DONALD!” I screamed, forcing her to stop walking. She turned, waiting. “What are you doing?”

“Finding a suitable surface on which to perform intimate protocol,” she informed me, before pointing to a patch of grass free of leaves or debris. “Is here sufficient, Sacred One? Shall I take off my covering?”

“Not unless you want me to gouge my eyes out,” I warned her, throwing another accusing glare at the guys. I wasn’t sure how, but this was their fault.