Strength

by Jane Washington

  He paused as an outbreak of murmuring spread through the platform. The gods and goddesses didn’t sound happy about his news. After a click, he raised his hand, cutting off their concerned swell of noise.

  “I am not implying that anyone will be killed to allow further ascension. I am only bringing a private observation into the light. On the few occasions that Beta Gods have been unburdened from their immortal ties, a mortal has almost immediately taken their place—many of you will know this to be true. I am not suggesting that Betas need to be cleared, I am instead proposing that we create yet another institution on Minatsol, a fourth Academy where only the very best, the very strongest sol in each of the power-groups be invited to study. We must make this process more exclusive, the training more intensive.”

  “Why don’t we simply separate,” a voice spoke up, softer than Staviti, but just as clear. A female, though I couldn’t see her. “Leave them be and announce that Topia is full.”

  “The realms are co-dependant,” Staviti explained, a frown in his voice. His disapproval was tangible. “As time passes, the relationship between the realms becomes even more tightly interwoven. Minatsol will exist without Topia, but Topia cannot exist without Minatsol, it is where this land draws its energy and magic—”

  “It’s what?” I hissed out, before one of the guys managed to slap a hand over my mouth. Abil glanced at me disapprovingly, and I was sure that even Staviti paused for a moment. I hadn’t realised until then, but there was a stillness in his audience that bordered on unnatural, fearful even. I spoke in my mind instead.

  I thought Topia was supposed to feed Minatsol. I thought this place was supposed to be the rich and magical place, giving scraps to our crappy world?

  Four sets of eyes turned my way, but I could tell that they didn’t have an answer for me. Coen gave the barest shake of his head and I turned my attention back to whatever Staviti was saying.

  “There are pathways between the worlds—faucets, if you will, that can be turned on or off. For centuries, the faucets have been flowing into Topia from the motherworld, Minatsol. When I ascended to this realm after my death in Minatsol, there was nothing for me. I reached for Minatsol and created a bridge. It fed into this place we now call home, and since then I have created many bridges, many faucets. This world grows, prospers, and in time, Minatsol regenerates.”

  It hasn’t regenerated at all, I thought, my eyes narrowing on Staviti.

  “If the mortals are told that they no longer have any hope of ascending to Topia, they will no longer reach for us. Though they may not realise it, the bridges I have created can be torn down, the faucets can be turned off. If they no longer rely on us—if they no longer worship us and sacrifice to us—the links between our realms will narrow. It is their constant striving to reach for Topia that allows the connection to be so strong, that allows me to draw the resources from their world.”

  “So we will attempt to break the natural order?” a man spoke up, sounding dubious. “We will attempt to make them strong enough that Topia will have to accept a second Beta to each god?”

  “I have broken the natural order before,” Staviti said, his tone condescending. “I am perfectly capable of doing it again. The strongest mortals will be taken from each of the Academies and brought to my newest, greatest institution: Champions Peak. The site of this Academy is sacred, to both the mortals and to me—it is the location of the first bridge I ever created between our world and theirs—”

  “A pocket,” Coen whispered, his voice so low I almost couldn’t catch it.

  “I created a temple and told my surviving mortal relatives to worship me there, to bring others and spread the word. In the beginning, my realm, Topia, would not allow me to create others of my kind, and it would not allow me to visit Minatsol for long without weakening me. With the bridge created, and with my family spreading the word of my ascension as a god, things began to change. Minatsol began to give, and Topia to take. Soon, I was able to create a new, powerful family, and they were able to exist in Topia. Together we have thrived, we have built this world to something which is strong and proud. My family and I have created a platform for further ascension, an opportunity for immortality that each of you have been gifted with. I fear that if the connection were severed, those who have ascended since me may be immediately rejected.”

  I understood what he was saying as far as the theory of it was concerned, but I wasn’t sure exactly what to believe. I knew he was lying about Minatsol regenerating itself, so what else was he lying about?

  Did he really need the magic of Minatsol to fuel Topia?

  Did he really want the sols to grow stronger? To make it to Topia?

  “The Betas of each differing energy group will be expected to teach at Champions Peak.” Staviti’s decisive voice cut through my thoughts, forcing my head to turn toward my guys. I knew for certain that Siret was a Beta, but I didn’t know about the others. I wanted desperately to ask them then and there, but Staviti was already speaking again, drowning out my question.

  “Those Betas will be required to remain in Minatsol for the next life-cycle: a sacrifice you will all be making—” his voice boomed over the voices starting to swell in shocked protest— “for the good of Topia. This afterlife has been a gift from the land itself, but now the land must be repaid. The Betas of Topia will have exactly one sun-cycle to prepare for their relocation, and then they will settle themselves into their new lodgings at Champions Peak. A pocket has been opened directly into the new academy, and it will remain open for one sun-cycle only. Train your sols like your afterlives depend on it, because they do. At the end of this life-cycle, I will host an ascension ceremony in Minatsol. Every single sol will be sacrificed in the old temple, and if any prove themselves too weak to ascend to Topia, their Beta-teacher will be executed by Death.”

  This information was met with an outcry, but Staviti did not stick around to listen to it. He was gone in the next click, as a sorrowful wail rose up from the crowd. One of the goddesses was crying. Loudly.

  “Can he do that?” I asked, my borrowed voice choked-up and fearful. I hadn’t realised that Staviti held so much power. I’d heard that he was the all-powerful, the all-knowing, the all-everything, but threatening to kill off half of the immortal population as punishment for being unable to reverse the apparent natural order of the worlds was …

  “He’s insane,” Coen answered in a terse whisper, finishing my thought for me. “But he’s the Creator. He can do anything he wants. We need to get out of here.”

  “But …” I stuttered. “But he said that he wasn’t implying anyone would have to die, and then he just said everyone was going to DIE!”

  Rome wrapped his hand around my—or Aros’s—mouth, cutting me off before I got any louder. He shook his head once. I worked to calm myself. Locking my panic down, I finally noticed the gods around us were starting to stir in a big way. None of us wanted to be caught in the crossfire of a mass-god-tantrum; Yael grabbed a hold of my arm, a little rougher than usual, though I felt no pain inside Aros’s body. He tugged me into blackness, and I found myself back in Adeline’s room, the others blinking into existence around me. I wanted to ask if I would now have the magical ‘pop on and off marble platforms at will’ power that the rest of them had, but I was aware that it wasn’t exactly a good time for my random questions.

  “What happened?” Aros demanded, standing up from one of the couches.

  Siret’s hand landed on the back of my neck, and I could feel his magic trickling away from me. I knew the moment I was myself again, because his touch changed. It became softer, his palm settling against my skin, curving around the sides of my neck, pulling me backward and into his body. Yael, who must have decided that he wasn’t okay with where I was standing, reached out while Coen started to detail Staviti’s announcement to Aros.

  I was tugged against another hard chest, Yael’s arm angling across my front, his hand settling into the dip of my waist, his chin resting against the
top of my head. Siret shot him a look before turning to focus on Coen’s recounting.

  “What does this mean?” Aros asked, his expression shocked.

  Adeline appeared then, Abil right beside her.

  Family meeting time.

  “He’s sending all five of you to Minatsol again,” Abil announced, a growl riding his words.

  “Six,” Adeline corrected, her eyes on me.

  “We could keep her here,” Abil countered.

  “No,” five deep, angry voices snapped.

  A short silence followed that sudden outburst, and then all eyes seemed to settle on me, waiting.

  It was almost funny that they didn’t know what my answer was.

  “Of course we know what your answer is,” Rome grunted, turning his eyes back to his parents as he answered my thought. “She’s coming with us. She will attend as the strongest Chaos sol.”

  “You can’t decide that.” I frowned. “And that will be announcing to Rau that I’m still alive.”

  “The only person it’s going to negatively affect is Cyrus, and Cyrus can look after himself,” Aros answered, sounding uncharacteristically hard-hearted. “Rau will think it was all an illusion, that Cyrus betrayed him. Because as far as he knows, you never ascended to Topia.”

  “Did I actually ascend to Topia though?” I asked. “And how are you going to pass me off as the strongest Chaos sol?”

  Abil laughed. “Every other Chaos sol is dead. Staviti saw to that. You’re the only candidate in the running.”

  “Shouldn’t I be running away then?” I spun on Abil. “Before Staviti kills me too?”

  “There is no way in the worlds that you have escaped his notice.” Abil sounded condescending, but also a little annoyed that he was having to explain this to me. “He knows more than he lets on. He sees more. Hears more. If he wanted you dead, you would be dead.”

  “I am dead.” I threw up my hands. “I mean … I am dead, right?”

  I glanced between them all as they stared right back at me, before Abil made a movement for something at his belt.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Adeline snapped, her hand moving rapidly to cover his.

  “Think about what?” I asked, when it seemed like nobody else was going to.

  “He was going to stab you,” Rome replied. “To make sure you’re dead.”

  None of my guys looked particularly angry, but I noticed that they had all moved a few steps closer to me.

  “And you are dead,” Coen added. “We saw you die. We felt it, just as we felt you come back to life.”

  I wasn’t sure if I should be happy or saddened by those words. It was starting to feel like death was a relative term. Everything felt pretty normal about me now. What happened to the other dwellers when they died? The ones who didn’t become servers. I already knew what happened to the servers. The banishment cave. That place still gave me a deep-in-my-gut bad feeling, especially the part where I’d promised to free them and never had. It was an unfinished job that would probably haunt me forever.

  My head hurt.

  “It’s going to be fine, Will,” Rome told me. “We’ll do as Staviti asks, because we need more time to figure out exactly what he’s planning. I really don’t believe he’ll kill off all the Betas. Sometimes he uses big threats to … encourage us.”

  I glanced between all of the grim faces. “You don’t think that he’s actually looking for the strongest sols? That maybe this is all just an excuse so he can send the Betas to Minatsol for a life-cycle, because this is where they will grow extremely weak—ready for execution?”

  Their expressions didn’t change, but I could tell that they were thinking. Probably weighing up their answers so that they didn’t scare the undead life out of me.

  Adeline was the one to finally answer. “Staviti is about keeping his own power base secure. He is the only one who isn’t able to have a Beta—he is accustomed to being the strongest, to having the power of creation at his fingertips, and his fingertips alone.”

  And that meant what exactly?

  Adeline had dodged my actual question, and the cryptic response was only serving to freak me out more. What sort of things would Staviti do to ensure he kept that power? The strongest god in the worlds had a new agenda, and it involved my guys.

  We had to figure it out and fast.

  It was decided—again, not by me—that I would just show up with the Abcurses at Champions Peak. Willa Knight, one Chaos Beta at your service. Cyrus would probably lose his shit when he saw me not hiding in his cave like I had been ordered to do, but it’d be too late for him to do anything about it by then. Personally, I was a big fan of Siret’s theory that Rau would be less inclined to attack us at the peak, since the situation was being closely monitored by Staviti. Okay, I was the only one actually worried about an attack. The Abcurses were more of the ‘bring it on’ and ‘Rau is a whiny bitch’ opinion. Their lack of concern would really worry me … if I had time to add another worry to my already full load.

  When we arrived at the pocket that Staviti had opened, it was like a shimmering, translucent mirror. He had set it up at a central gathering platform that had apparently been used for smaller, less formal meetings. Each Beta was given a time to go across, so that we didn’t all crash into the place at once.

  At our assigned time, the Abcurses checked to make sure that it wasn’t being monitored—while I hid beneath a cloak that could have wrapped five times around me—and then the six of us stepped through, one-by-one, reappearing on the other side within only a few moments of each other. My kind of travel.

  “So, this is the new place …” I trailed off, my eyes running over it one more time. Champions Peak was aptly named for its location. It was a huge residence, spreading out across the top of the cliff it rested upon. The main building was made from a white, shiny stone, square in shape with two towering turrets facing the sea. The building itself was small, though still large enough to hold all of the people called to the Peak.

  I turned toward the view, shrugging off my cloak at the same time. Beneath, I was wearing a tight-fitting, blue dress: the top showing sections of plain blue netting, revealing hints of the skin beneath. Small brass tokens had been sewn into the neckline, making this the most elaborately expensive dress that I had ever worn. The skirt had been made up of sections of thin, silk-like material, allowing slits all the way up the legs so that I could easily run or fight in the outfit. As it turned out, Rome had been really into the whole fashion-design thing. He had planned the dress with a single-minded determination, stating that it was ‘his turn’ to put his colour on me.

  I smiled as I stared out over the cliff, toward the water. The weather was colder so far up in the sky, but it didn’t deter me from wanting to run—okay, probably trip—down all of those hundreds of steps carved into the side of the cliff to meet the crashing water far below.

  “Some parts of Minatsol are so beautiful,” I murmured again, the guys standing in a line on either side of me. “And others …” I turned around, to let my gaze rest on the desolation behind us. It was nothing but parched land: desert-red dirt, scraggly vegetation, and bare, cracked rocks.

  How could such beauty and life exist side by side with so much desolation? “This is how I see Minatsol and Topia.” I voiced my sudden realisation aloud. “One half has too much, the other not enough.” The worlds needed to learn to share, and so did the gods watching over them.

  “Gods don’t share.” Coen, as always, brought down the blunt truth.

  “We should head inside now, Soldier,” Siret interrupted me before I could lecture the lot of them about why sharing was good. For everyone involved. “It’s time to put our game faces on, because we’re about to enter the political arena. And this time there will be a lot of gods to deal with.”

  I nodded, straightening, mentally preparing myself as best I could. I had a blue dress with tokens on it. I could do this. Maybe it had been the white robes holding me back in Topia. The Abcurses
didn’t have their robes on anymore either, even though the few other gods we’d spied upon going through the shimmery doorway had been fully robed. I loved that my guys didn’t give a fuck about the rules. We all wanted to stick it to Staviti in whatever way we could.

  There was also the fact that while robes were extremely comfortable, they couldn’t handle any kind of draught, and up on the cliff, the breezes were quite intense. On the other hand, the flowy material gave really easy access …

  “Focus, Willa-toy,” Yael warned me, his eyes swirling as they met mine.

  Aros’s laughter was warm. “Please, for the love of sanity. Keep your focus so we can keep ours.”

  That was a great plan, I was going to work on that plan immediately. No more naked-under-robes thoughts starting from … right now. Low groans sounded, and then I was being ushered forward toward the gates. The moment that Rome placed a hand on the white structure, it swung open silently. We followed the stone path leading up to the main entrance. The building appeared to be very open-aired, patches of sunlight streaming in around us. There wasn’t much else in the first courtyard, so we continued on. There was no sign of any of the other Betas now, but I could hear voices as we moved through to the next room.

  It was darker inside the next part, the roof completely closed in, and the room was full. The gods had spread themselves out, taking most of the space while the sols stood in a small huddle on the left side of the room, eyeing off the powerful beings around them.