Playing God (Game of Gods Book 3)

by Lana Pecherczyk

  He raised an eyebrow. “If you haven’t got it by now, you’re not going to.”

  “But that’s shit! I don’t want to be canceled.”

  “You won’t. You’re royalty. Like I said, you’ll be kept to breed. It’s not the worst thing in the world. So it’s like, why bother trying to pass the trial if you will be here, anyway?”

  “But if we pass the trial, we can do what we want, right?”

  He glanced at Squid then shrugged me off. “If we pass.”

  Fury boiled in my veins. The weight of attention pushed at me. It grated me. Everyone else worked hard with their teams while I stood there, awkward and in jeans, waiting for something to do.

  I could do this on my own. No mentor, or a stupid royal father. Me on my own. I could pass and then leave.

  I stormed the short gap to stand in front of Squid.

  “I’m going to the depository.”

  “No.”

  “Try to stop me and I’ll make you hurt.”

  He looked down at me, unperturbed. “No.”

  Whatever. I turned. A rough hand to my shoulder spun me back around. My temper exploded, and I let instinct take over. I knew there were tactics that didn’t work on him, like a zap of electricity to his body. Unable to feel pain, he’d almost laughed when I did that earlier. But, like Cash, who was immune, I always found a work around.

  I had the power to manipulate air. It wasn’t storm and tempest type manipulation, but more telekinetic. I silently threw up a shield of thickened air around his body, then, hoping he wouldn’t notice, I contracted that shield so it drew closer to his body, inch by inch. His hand fell from my shoulder as the air pushed it away. I tightened the shield, cranked it up. His blank expression turned inwards, and a frown etched between his eyebrows as he understood the silent attack. He opened his mouth, but I stuffed thick air in. His mouth opened and closed like a fish and I realized I’d gone too far. I eased up and let a little air trickle in, only enough to keep him alive.

  Then I left. Screw them all. I didn’t give a rat’s ass if Bruce turned up. He didn’t give a damn about me. Off to the depository. Wherever that was.

  I asked a few passersby in the corridor for directions. The first few gaped at me like I had two heads, but then I noticed a petite girl dressed in a long, scholarly type robe rushing past. The swish of her fabric rustled with her urgency like a whispering heartbeat. She looked so smart. Surely she headed towards some sort of learning area. I rushed after her and tried to hail her down, but the minute she caught sight of my face, she ignored me. It didn’t matter, anyway. I trailed her to some doors that showed a glimpse of books beyond when they opened. Above the doors, the sign said: Depository. Bingo.

  Outside the room, I leant against the cold, concrete walls and caught my breath. If I went in looking as I did, it was likely I’d get the same reaction. Nobody wanted to talk because I was the red headed soul-eating princess.

  I had to look different.

  Instantly, I closed my eyes, counted to ten and willed my hair to change from red to a fuzzy brown. My skin changed to a similar color. A thousand electric ants skipped over my body as the metamorphosis took place. The physical change was real, not an illusion-construct or glamor like Marc could do. Every time I used my witch-like powers, a little thrill of achievement skipped up my bones.

  When I opened my eyes and held my hand in front of my face, I saw smooth brown skin. Perfect. It might be temporary. It might hold. I wasn’t too sure. Fingers crossed it worked.

  CHAPTER TEN

  I STRODE INTO the depository triumphant and then stood at the entrance to soak up the atmosphere. The air smelled of ink, dusty paper, and ancient leather bound books. Excellent. Containing my excitement was hard as I surveyed the shelves filled with books from top to bottom throughout the large room. Just like you’d see in a public library, there were nooks scattered throughout to sit and read or study. Golden candelabras dangled from the ornate paneled ceiling. They matched the decor on the study tables below.

  I went straight to an official looking counter in an alcove not far away where a man in a maroon hooded robe peered at a large, open leather-bound book. There was an embroidered whale at the breast of the robe. Must be Cetus. They were the House with the whale on the plaque. His hood had pooled around his shoulders, revealing a balding head. Little tufts of hair remained around his ears. It reminded me of a monk from the Robin Hood story. His aging hairstyle didn’t match his youthful face and his aura was a little on the strong side. No star-map as far as I could see. All of these things made me think he was Seraphim, not Nephilim.

  The pages the monk turned were yellowed, frayed and very fragile. He flipped each leaflet with a short stick, afraid to let the oils of his fingers taint the paper. The book must be ancient.

  “Excuse me.” My voice echoed loudly in the large room. “Could you please tell me where to find the books on soul manipulation?”

  “Shh,” came a hiss from somewhere behind him. A quick glance confirmed there was another robed man reading at a desk further away in the dingy alcove. A tiny lamp shone on his tiny book.

  I tried again in a lower voice. “Hello.”

  The monk scanned my appearance with derision. “Are you talking to me?”

  “Yes, I am. Are you the librarian?”

  He blinked, as though he still couldn’t believe I had the nerve to speak to him. He must have decided he couldn’t possibly deign to respond because he huffed and returned to his book, mumbling under his breath: “Librarian.”

  Too late I remembered my faux pas. Marc had mentioned he’d visited a librarian once, and it was someone who worked with memories, not books. “I’m sorry, I really need help,” I said.

  The only move he made was to turn a page.

  Not getting anywhere, I contemplated the room. I could search the catalog myself, but it was massive. Thousands of books.

  Okay. So, what now? Maybe the person sneaking up behind me could help. I sensed the aura timidly approach and decided to pretend I hadn’t noticed.

  Someone cleared their throat behind me.

  I turned around to discover the robed girl from earlier. Cut into a short, cropped style, her boyish hair suited her face and gave her a pixie appearance. Everything about her was delicate and demure from her pale skin to her thin bones. I just wanted to wrap her in cotton wool and protect her from every sharp corner in the place. With her softened features, and eager expression, I naturally warmed to her, despite her avoidance of me earlier.

  “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing. I can show you where to look, if you like?” she said, voice breathy and light.

  “Oh my God, thank you so much,” I gushed.

  “That’s okay.” She moved away, glancing at me over her shoulder. “He’s not a librarian, you know. He’s a historian. Librarians are another department. This way.”

  “Yeah, I kinda figured I had something mixed up.”

  I promptly followed her toward another section of the room. A full head taller than her, I felt like a clunking giant. My steps dropped heavily next to her dainty ones and, by the time we made it to a far corner of the room, I developed a weird gait to try to smother my noise. None of that mattered though, because when she turned into an aisle and slowed down to read the spines of the books, my mind instantly detoured. The books were older here and smelled more intense. She ran her finger along each, taking her time, her little lips silently moving as she read the words in her mind.

  “Here. This is where the section starts.”

  “Fantastic. Thank you so much.”

  I blinked a few times, trying to read the titles of the leather bound books. As before with the Latin plaques over each house, the jumble of letters made sense in my mind. Another skill I’d siphoned from my passengers and the absorption of The Book of the Dead. Extraordinarily, I could read Latin. If only The Others were good at math.

  After a few moments, I realized the girl stood there watching me. I caught her gaze an
d opened my smile.

  Catching herself in an embarrassing position, she jolted. “Sorry. I was just, it’s only that, I…”

  I straightened to let her know I listened. No need to rush.

  “I… uh.” She glanced at her feet. When she lifted her gaze to mine, it was more purposeful and confident. She gestured at my face. “You changed.”

  “Yes, I did.” I went back to the books and read through the titles. “People were being weird to my other appearance, so I thought to try this one. Plus, I’m hiding.”

  “Oh, I won’t tell anyone. Don’t worry.”

  I smiled and returned to the shelves. A title stood out. Histories of the Inner Workings of Incorporeal Essences. I hooked my finger on the spine and slid the book out.

  “How did you know?” I asked, trying to appear disinterested. I didn’t want her to know it was a big deal because then she really might blab and any advantage I had whilst in this place would be gone.

  “It’s my job to be perceptive. Cetus House is about discovery and invention. I saw you outside in the same outfit asking other people about the library. Plus, there’s your hair.” She touched her own blond crop. “It’s a little darker than we’re used to seeing down here. I’m sorry I didn’t stop, I had to sign in before my mentor noticed I was late. He’s a bit of a ball buster. The last time one of us was late, he made us sort all the paperclips into height order. It took two days! Anyway, I put two and two together and guessed who you are.”

  I palmed my head. The hair color. Of course. It was more common to see an African American looking person down here with blond hair, not brown. “Wow. You are perceptive. I must be more careful in the future. And, don’t mention not stopping. I’m glad you eventually did though.”

  “If I may,” she said and pointed to the book. “This one doesn’t have much information on actual soul manipulation. It’s just the history of the inner workings—things like emotions and instincts. This one might be more to your liking.”

  She pushed my book back into its spot and retrieved another leather-bound volume. A little frown appeared between her soft brows. “But some of it is in ancient Latin. I can find someone to translate this for you if you like?”

  “I think I know how to read it.”

  “Oh, you do?”

  “Well.” I thought about it. I honestly did not understand there was a difference between ancient Latin and normal Latin. “Can I take a look?”

  The girl opened the book in her arms and turned it to face me. She flicked past the first few pages until she found one to her liking.

  “Can you read this?”

  “Yes. Something about electro-magnetic fields being used to amplify manipulation.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Wow. I’ve been trying to decipher that for a while but most of the Watchers don’t bother helping. As long as we pass the trials that’s all they care about. This is truly amazing. What about this?” She pointed.

  “Um. That says, something about the weight of human versus Seraphim energy.”

  “How interesting.” She flipped to a new page, but the more she turned, the heavier my heart became. The book didn’t appear to have specifics of what I needed about getting The Others out of my body.

  “Do you have anything else?”

  “Of course. Was there anything in particular about soul manipulation that you wanted?”

  I chewed my lip. How much to tell? To help me decide, I scrutinized her aura. It felt smooth and calm, no animosity emanating off her. Every instinct said to trust her, but I’d been wrong in the past. Petra had masqueraded as my Aunt Lucy for three years in front of my face and I had no clue.

  “I’m Wren, by the way,” she said and tapped the tiny whale on her robe. “I’m from Cetus House.”

  The Others stirred. Wren. Why was that name so familiar?

  Urser’s list, they answered.

  Oh my God. They were right. Wren’s name was on the list with the future date next to it. This poor, innocent delicate girl was going to be a victim of my father. The worst scenarios played in my head and I had to bite my lip to stop my thoughts meandering down a dark path.

  She waited expectantly.

  “What’s Cetus House mean?” I asked.

  She laughed, and it filled the rooms and echoed. She slapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. It’s just I’ve never heard of anyone who didn’t know that.”

  Heat rushed to my cheeks. “You said something about inventing, right?”

  She nodded. “That’s part of it. Mathieson is our mentor. He’s one of the stuffy historians you met out there. Cetus House is all about knowledge, and yes, inventing and discovering. In here, we’re the keepers of history on this planet. We have another lab where scientists work to make things. That’s always underground and not really my thing. I prefer the quiet predictability of books, at least with them I can get outside now and then to visit human libraries. With the science lab, you’re stuck between four white walls every day, but it’s the way of the House. See, the whale is our emblem, and our motto is ‘Scientia Potentia Est’.”

  “Knowledge is Power, of course. Urser is the bear, but I don’t have anything with that emblem on.”

  “Victoria aut mors.” Her face turned grave. “That’s your motto.”

  “Victory or Death.” I stuck out my tongue. “Ridiculous, right?”

  “Shh.” She shushed me, but giggled all the same.

  I laughed too and felt lighter knowing I made a friend in this horrid place.

  “You should hear Eridanus House’s motto.” She leaned in and whispered: “Semper Virilis.”

  “Always virile?”

  “When you meet them, you’ll understand.”

  “I’m La Roux,” I said. “But my friends call me Roo.”

  “Nice to meet you, La Roux.” She shifted the book to one arm and held out the other.

  “Please, call me Roo.”

  That made her dip her head, but I caught the smile on her face when she let go of my hand.

  “So, what was it specifically that you wanted to know? Because we also have an electronic catalog. There could be some direction in there.”

  I hesitated for a while. Too long, in fact, and uncertainty began to flicker on Wren’s face, but her aura remained eager and light. At some point, I’d have to take a risk, otherwise I’d never get out of here.

  “I think I’m a Soul-Eater,” I stated, unable to meet her gaze. “But I don’t know for sure. It’s a bit embarrassing and I try to keep it hidden.”

  She said nothing for a moment, then lowered her voice. “You’ll need another section then.”

  Wren slid her book back onto the shelves and motioned for me to follow her. We stepped surreptitiously through the maze of shelves until we came to a dark corner of the depository. The cooler air caused gooseflesh to prickle my skin. Wren looked over her shoulder a few times. I gathered we were going somewhere we shouldn’t and couldn’t help the excitement dancing up my spine.

  “The books on devolution and stuff we don’t talk about are here,” she whispered. The books in this section weren’t looked after as well as the first. Piles stacked high, book upon book, threatened to topple from a crowded bench.

  She sighed. “This is one of my jobs, sorting these out. Now, where did I see… ah, here they are.” She pulled two books out of the stack and handed them to me with pity.

  The heavy items sank into my arms. “Thanks.”

  “If I could be so bold as to say, just because you’re a Soul-Eater, doesn’t mean you have to behave the way they say you should. Just because you’re Urser, doesn’t mean you need to stay.”

  “Easier said than done. I feel like I’m fighting a losing battle sometimes. Nobody is helping me out. Except Cash, but he’s being blocked by my father. I suddenly have a few days in which to learn years of Game theory, and all I can think about is getting these irritating souls out of me so I can finally think straight. I don’t like that part of me.”

  “
I understand.” She nodded and pulled back the collar of her robe to reveal the star-map covering her décolletage. “This map means I’m in Cetus House, and everyone from that territory are super smart. It’s like a world built on ideas. Cetus is where the original scientists came from. You know, the ones who made the humans for the Queen? But, here’s the thing, I don’t enjoy being here. I want to live outdoors and…” She halted, catching herself in a moment of forbidden truth.

  “It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone.”

  “I can talk to animals. Well, it’s more like me talking and them understanding, they’re not that smart,” she said. “It’s torture being made to stay within these walls. I feel blocked and stifled. So many rules and stupid caveats. If only I were more like the other members of my house, especially my brother.”

  “So he doesn’t have your skills?”

  “No, he’s from Cetus. He understands how anything works, just by being near it long enough. It’s uncanny; I’ve seen him reprogram a computer with no knowledge of coding skills and pull apart an engine then put it back together. He’s always got his nose buried in a book, or the web.”

  “Sounds like the kind of guy I’d get along with.”

  “He’s great. But I’m different. As soon as I pass my trials, I’m going out there into the wild and never coming back.”

  “Good idea.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course. I might be new here, but I’m the first to admit that I think the whole game is ridiculous.”

  She gave me a sidelong glance. “But we’re born for this. Literally. We have responsibilities. At some point in our old Empire life, we put up our hand to be part of this. Don’t you think we owe it to that other self to try our hardest? I mean, we’re going to be pissed if we get back to the Empire and find out that we stuffed our evolution because we didn’t do as we were told.”

  I shrugged. “So they tell us. I don’t know if I believe them. What do we have instincts for if not to trust them? Maybe rules are made to be broken.”