Strength (Curse of the Gods #4)(60)

“Our students are supposed to be our servers while we’re here,” Coen informed me. “But we told them we liked to do this sort of shit ourselves.”

“So you lied?” I grinned at him, and his lips twitched in return.

“Something like that. There are wooden food containers down in the kitchen. I’ll grab some of those.” He turned without waiting for a response and began to move through the mass of sols—all of whom jumped out of his way to allow him passage.

When he returned a few clicks later, there were at least five sols trailing him, carrying wooden food containers. He walked down the line of the buffet, pointing out foods and barking orders while they rushed to fill up the containers. I stepped back, leaning into the hard warmth of Aros’s chest. His hand settled on my hip, and we watched and waited until Coen was done.

“To the training rooms,” Coen grunted out to his group of followers, before striding out of the room.

The sols were almost tripping over each other in their haste to follow him.

We trailed after the group at a slower pace, walking as though hypnotised by the aromas that drifted from the containers. I could barely wait until we reached the training rooms, but I was also too tired to catch one of the sols and steal away their container, so I dragged myself after them, squeezing through the group as they all piled into the narrow marble corridor.

When we reached the rooms designated for the Abcurses and their training, I collapsed in the corner and simply waved my right hand in the air.

“What do you need, Soldier?”

“Food,” I mumbled. “Need food.”

I heard laughter, but after that I had no idea what happened because my eyelids lowered and then everything went dark.

Sometime later I awoke to low murmurs.

“The healer has no idea what’s wrong with Donald. Even Lancaster stopped by for a look.”

At those words, slow swirls of panic began to build low in my gut, but I was still too asleep to completely understand why.

“Do you think it’s wise?” asked another voice. “Having Lancaster know that one of the servers is in Minatsol? What if he informs Staviti?”

“He’s afraid of Willa,” said the original voice, laughter in his words. “He’s not going to say anything.”

My brain finally started working again, and in a rush of understanding I realised it was Rome and Coen talking … about my mum. I gasped as I pulled myself up from the hard surface I’d been sprawled across. As my eyes opened, I registered the muscled chest below my hands. I’d been asleep on an Abcurse. Coen Abcurse to be accurate.

“Willa, what is it?” Green eyes bore into me as he examined my face. “What happened?”

“My mum needs me,” I said, voice husky. “You have to take me to her. I healed Yael, somehow, so maybe I can help her as well.”

Coen turned to Rome, who sat nearby. He just shrugged those huge shoulders of his. “Can’t hurt, right?”

I pulled myself to stand, mourning the loss of Coen’s heat, but knowing I needed some space to get my mind functioning again. That sleep had really knocked me out. My legs wobbled for a moment before I felt my strength returning to them and I was steady. Clearing my throat, I tried again. “You know I’m going to do this no matter what you say. You might as well give up now.”

Coen rose to his feet before answering. “I’m just worried. Healing takes a lot of energy. You’re still learning about your powers—their capabilities. I don’t want you to hurt yourself in a quest to … save your mother.”

I heard the underlying truth of what he was telling me. There was no way to save Donald, she was even more undead than I was. Just a husk of soul trapped in its shell. But … I had to try.

They must have seen the determination in my features, because no one argued with me again. “I need to deal with my sol,” Rome said with annoyance. “She’s being a real pain in my ass, but if you want me to come with you … I’m there.”

A quick glance told me that the Strength sol was in the corner of the next open room, smashing her fists into a rock. Her dark hair was tied back severely, accentuating the angry lines of her face. I wasn’t sure if she was carving the stone into something, or just taking out her frustrations, but either way … I didn’t want to be alone with her. Ever.

She wasn’t the only one who looked pissed. Despite the fact that Siret, Yael, and Aros were with their sols—all of them in their own interconnected rooms, each looking more bored than the one before—the females were still shooting angry glares in my direction.

They seriously needed to get over this shit.

“They’re angry because we all watched over you while you slept. We took turns,” Coen told me.

Something about that statement warmed my heart. No one had ever done that for me before, except Emmy.

I rose up onto my tiptoes to kiss Rome on the cheek. He still had to bend down for me to reach. “Go to your sol,” I murmured to him. “Before she knocks this entire building down.”

He let out an exaggerated grumble, his chest shaking. “Don’t stay away too long,” he finally said to us. “I have this feeling we should stick together as much as possible, just in case.”

He didn’t say in case of what, but we all knew there were more than a couple of situations which could spring up and would require the full might of the Abcurse brothers.