Strength (Curse of the Gods #4)(59)

“I do not want that, Sacred One.”

“Good. Keep your covering on and never say the words ‘intimate protocol’ ever again. You had enough ‘intimate protocol’ in your dweller life, you don’t need any more of it.”

“As you wish, Sacred One.”

“I don’t think I can touch her hand again,” I muttered, as we gathered in preparation to go through the pocket.

“I’ve got her,” Siret announced, reaching out and wrapping his hand around my mother’s arm, right above her elbow. “Let’s go, Donald. Brace yourself—this might hurt.”

We stepped through the pocket one-by-one and gathered on the other side, waiting for Siret to pass through with Donald. I rushed forward as they appeared, already reaching for her. I had expected screaming, crying, maybe some mechanical gasping, but instead, she was hanging limply from Siret’s grip. I quickly picked up her other arm, supporting her other side. Her head was hanging down. She was a dead weight.

“What happened?” I asked Siret.

“I have no idea.” His expression was grim. “We’ve never tried to sneak a server into Minatsol before—this might not have been such a good idea.”

“Did she die ... again?” My voice was reaching hysterical levels, and I was starting to panic.

This was my fault. My stupid idea.

“Let’s just get her back to the Peak,” Rome muttered. “We can take her to a healer—and if that doesn’t work, there will be a sol and Beta of healing skulking around, hiding from everyone else.”

“I’ve got her,” Siret assured me, swinging my mother up so that he could carry her on his own.

“Let me.” Rome held his hands out, and Siret passed her over. She looked so small and fragile against Rome’s massive frame—it was odd to witness, since my mother was several inches taller than me. I must have looked tiny in comparison to my guys.

“You make up for it in temper,” Yael informed me, as we began to walk in the direction of the mountain. It was just visible in the early morning rays of sunlight, but I was still worried that we wouldn’t make it in time for the beginning of that sun-cycle’s training session. I also needed to eat, and possibly sleep. I wasn’t sure how long my new undead stamina would hold.

We picked up our pace as the thought crossed my mind. The journey back was silent, with my attention constantly being pulled back over my shoulder, checking on my mother’s state. Rome assured me often that she was still breathing, but it worried me that there were no other visible changes. She was limp, unresponsive. I needed to fix her, before something worse happened.

By the time we reached the base of the mountain, exhaustion was creeping in—a tremor finally beginning to make itself known in my calves and wrists.

“I’ll take Donald to our rooms and call for a healer,” Rome announced. “Someone give my student something to crush. It’ll keep her occupied until I’m back.”

“Can it be one of the other students?” Siret quipped.

“Don’t see why not—” Rome started, at the same time as Coen spoke.

“Absolutely not.”

I might have grinned if I hadn’t been so tired. Instead, I could only focus on where I planted my feet. I didn’t want to slip and go sailing off the mountain—that hardly seemed productive, considering all the trouble we’d just gone to. I was wearing the heavy chains around my neck and they would sail off the mountain right along with me, rendering our entire operation futile.

“Really?” Aros grumbled in reply to my thoughts. “That’s the downside to you falling off a mountain? The fact that we’ll lose the chains?”

“They’re very valuable chains,” I defended. “And heavy.”

“They’re heavy because you refuse to let anyone else carry them for more than a click,” Siret pointed out. “They would have been much lighter if you’d let us keep them.”

“I’ll hand them off when we get to Cyrus—I don’t care so much about him touching them. He’d be a great Neutral of the imprisonment realm.”

“That’s our girl.” Coen laughed.

We separated when we reached the section of the mountain housing the god residences, and then separated once more when we reached the dining area. Siret and Yael were going to go ahead and meet the students while I went with Coen and Aros to fetch food for everyone.

I knew that we were quite a sight as we passed through the tables of stunned sols eating breakfast. There were no gods to be seen, and I suspected that most of them preferred to have their food served in their residences, where they wouldn’t have to mix with the sols any more than necessary, outside of their teaching rotations.

Our clothing was dishevelled, our hair mussed, and I knew that for my own part, I was toting a look of half-crazed exhaustion. There was dirt beneath my fingernails and pantera hair stuck to my shirt.

All the other sols looked fresh, fed, and ready to tackle the sun-cycle, though there was something of a harrowed look in their eyes. I didn’t blame them, after witnessing where they were all expected to sleep. I’d feel harrowed too if faced with the prospect of falling through a hole in the wall and tumbling down the side of a mountain in my sleep.

“We need containers to carry everything in,” I said as we approached the large serving buffet.