Strength (Curse of the Gods #4)(78)

All I heard was take the debt owed.

I leapt forward, letting my powers free, urging them to wrap around his legs. I could burn a god, I already knew that. I was too late, though. Before my fire could touch him, Staviti had turned his hand, and with a crack, Emmy’s neck twisted at an unnatural angle, her face falling still.

A scream ripped from me, followed by another as I continued to charge. I saw nothing but the Creator. I would kill him if it was the last thing I ever did. He doused the flames that had leapt out ahead of me, but he would not be able to douse me. The power was within, and I would push it all out until he was no more. Just as I dove at him, however, a strong and unnatural wind blew me to the side. I crashed to the ground with a hard thump, extinguishing the flames almost immediately, as I had nearly landed on Emmy’s body. Rolling over, I wrapped myself around my sister, holding her close. A flash of white drew my attention, and I realised that it was Cyrus.

Sweet gods on the mountain. He was glowing. His entire figure bore such a white light around it that I almost couldn’t stare directly. He attacked Staviti, energy flinging from him and slamming into the Creator, knocking him down. He didn’t stop there, his feet hovering from the ground as he glided forward, his face devoid of any emotion except wrath.

He gripped Staviti around the throat, hauling him up and holding him in the air in front of him.

“You have broken the balance,” Cyrus said, his voice deep and echoing. “You will pay for your crimes.”

His head swung toward me, and I was suddenly locked in the gaze of a pair of blinding white eyes. “Emmy?” I heard the question in that one word.

I shook my head, pulling her closer to me.

Cyrus roared then, a low guttural sound that sent goosebumps across my skin. Staviti must have realised that he had made a mistake; Emmy wasn’t just important to me. He launched into action, knocking Cyrus back a few feet with some kind of invisible force that was strong enough to send the other’s body several inches into the packed dirt. This gave Staviti enough room to gather a storm around him, wind and rain popping into existence from nowhere, battering everyone on the mountain.

Cyrus pulled himself up again and pushed through it, sending blasts of white light at Staviti, who countered these attacks with jagged bolts of deadly lightning, fissuring the Neutral power into harmless droplets of rain. Their fight continued on, back and forth, while the rest of us held on for our lives.

“Give Emmy to me,” Siret’s low voice pleaded. I realised that I was surrounded by my Abcurses; I had no idea how long they’d been there, my focus had been entirely on Emmy, and then on Cyrus.

“No!” I shook my head, pulling her limp body even closer. “No. I can’t let her go. I won’t let her go.”

A scream ripped from me as I sobbed. My breathing was so fast that I was about to hyperventilate, but I just couldn’t accept that she was gone. I had seen her neck snap. I had seen the light fade from her eyes, and I still couldn’t accept it. Rain slapped at my bare skin, stinging with its assault, but it was nothing compared to the pain inside my chest.

She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s alive.

I chanted this in my head, over and over, each chant bringing another sob. Hands touched me, but no one tried to steal her away. They just gave me their energy. Their love.

It wasn’t enough.

My power swirled with the same force as the storm outside. Live, Emmy. Live.

“Please,” I sobbed out loud.

I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead to her chest, my arms wrapped tightly around her as we lay together. My head started to swirl, the same way my energy did inside my body, and within a few clicks I grew light-headed, dark spots flashing over my vision.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” Coen’s question should have been concerning to me, but I was struggling to focus on anything other than the dizzying sensation in my head.

“Pica never leaves Topia.” This time, it was Aros speaking. “Fuck. She might be here to help Staviti.”

I missed parts of the conversation as my precarious hold on consciousness started to slip.

“… Hates him,” someone else was saying. “There’s no way she’s here to help. She’s here because of Rau.”

“Pica …” I recognised Staviti’s voice, but the tone confused me. I was barely managing to regain consciousness, and I lost whatever else he said, though he seemed to be shocked. A woman replied, and then he was angry. Betrayed. Blackness pressed in on either side of me and I wondered then if maybe I was dying of a broken heart. Everything hurt and my energy was slipping from my body.

“Willa!” Aros’s shout barely even registered. “No, you can’t …”

The darkness sucked the last of my breath from me, and then everything was still.





Eighteen





I wasn’t sure if I died again that sun-cycle, but when I finally regained consciousness, I sure as hell wished that I had. Pain was everywhere. There wasn’t a single part of my body that didn’t hurt. I groaned as I tried to open my eyes.

“Willa.” That whisper of my name was from Yael. I’d know his voice anywhere. He brushed a hand lightly over me and I flinched. The pain was just so intense, it was almost unbearable.

I felt the rim of a cup being pressed against my lips and then liquid on my tongue, at the back of my throat, soothing and cool. “Drink it please, you need to rest some more.”