Persuasion (Curse of the Gods Book 2)

by Jane Washington

  So when a dweller let out a horrified gasp, her eyes flicking almost comically between me and Yael, back and forth in rapid motion, it took me more than a few clicks to figure out what had caused her shock.

  That’s right. Operation don’t-mess-with-Willa was in full effect. Fighting against dual urges to cover myself and turn a fiery red, I instead continued strolling along, boxed in between Yael and Aros. Siret trailed a little behind, that half-smirk seemingly permanent on his face. The closer we got to the Original Gods, and The Beginning classroom, the more the halls began to fill with scattered sols and dwellers. This section of Blesswood was a long hall of rooms, most of which were used for class or private study. I knew Coen and Rome were in advanced Topian studies just a few doors up from the triplets’ class.

  A familiar looking giant of a sol let out a whistle as we moved closer to him. It took me a beat to figure out why he looked familiar, and it wasn’t until we were almost even that I recognised him. It was the monster whose lap I scrambled into the last time I had been at the arena. I’d jumped on him after witnessing a beheading only a foot from my face. It was the kind of thing which stayed with a person.

  “Looking good, dweller,” he said, giving me a wink as we passed.

  Of course, that was too much for Aros, who dropped some of his golden geniality and turned dark eyes on the sol. I thought he was going to stop and do more than just glare, but Siret nudged him, managing to keep us all walking, although Yael also took a turn giving Mountain Man a look, which had me biting the inside of my cheeks. I would not smile and give it all away.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Yael finally asked. “I know Willa is big news, mostly because we haven’t killed her or run her off yet, but this level of interest is … something else. What has she done now?”

  “Standing right here,” I snorted out, lifting our joined hands. “No need to talk about me like I’m a piece of naughty furniture you just traded a bunch of tokens for, only to realise it doesn’t do what it’s supposed to do.”

  Yael shook his head, his dark hair sliding across his forehead. “A piece of furniture would talk less and be of more use to us. Something for you to consider, Rocks.”

  “You would be so sad without me,” I stated. “Go on, admit it.”

  His jaw worked back and forth and he was either trying not to smile or was currently biting his tongue off: either way, he ignored my last words and continued dragging me through the crowd of gawkers.

  “Just freaking underwear,” I muttered, trying to tell myself that it wasn’t such a big deal.

  Maybe I really did have a penchant for nudity, because the fact that everyone was now seeing most of my body didn’t bother me in the slightest. A female sol actually let out a shriek as she caught sight of me, tripping over her overly-long robe-styled dress and sprawling out in front of Aros. She was back up on her feet so quickly I wondered if she had springs attached to her or something. With a face as red as any I’d ever seen, she mumbled an apology and ran off down the hall.

  Before anything was said about that weirdness, I heard my name being shouted from a distance. Tilting my head to the left, I was able to see around a few sols to find Rome and Coen marching along the hall. The Blesswood inhabitants parted for them as they breezed along, their stony eyes boring into me.

  Pulling my hand free from Yael, I let it fall to rest against my bare hip, and when the twins were close enough, I drawled, “You shouted for me?”

  Rome looked confused as he glanced at me, his eyes running down to my feet and back up, lingering on my midsection for a fraction of a click too long.

  “Is someone going to tell me what’s going on here?” I demanded, enjoying the play-acting part of my ruse. Although, a small part of me was starting to worry now that this was playing right into Rau’s plan for me.

  Everything in the hall right then felt chaotic.

  “Some sol was talking about a half-naked girl,” Rome finally said, his eyes on my face now.

  I glared as hard as I could. “So naturally you assumed it was me.”

  His hard features melted into a look of unease, and he glanced at his twin, probably hoping for some help, before replying with a sigh. “Well, you do have a habit of it.”

  Don’t laugh. Trying to keep a straight face was seriously the hardest thing I had ever done, especially because Siret was over there with a slow grin pulling up the sides of his mouth.

  “You five told me not to be naked in front of you anymore. You demanded it, actually. And I’m keeping that promise, fully clothed.” I did a spin and held both of my hands out, plain white underwear on very prominent display for all to see. All except them of course, as per their orders.

  Rome’s eyes narrowed and he was back to staring at my navel area again. “You’re definitely not naked, but what the hell are you wearing?”

  I wanted to whip my head around and glare at Siret, but I sensed that this was a ruse by the twins. They were smart. They were trying to trip me up in my lies. So I kept my face as neutral as I could. “It’s not my fault that I own like five articles of clothing. Get used to me wearing odd bits and pieces.”

  His eyebrows rose, like nothing I just said made sense to him, and I was silently cursing Siret. “Why are you all still here? Class is starting.”

  The hallway had started to clear as sols made their way into their rooms, and the dwellers scurried around to make sure everything ran smoothly.

  “They’re all looking at her still,” Coen muttered, donning his death-eyes. Then he walked across the hall and straight into the Original Gods classroom, which was definitely not his Topian studies room.

  “What’s he doing?” I asked, trying to figure out what I had missed this time.

  Rome slipped an arm around me, half dragging me through the same doorway. “Keeping an eye on you. Something is up, we can feel it. It could be a Rau thing … all of this just feels weird. It feels like Chaos.”

  Well, great. It looked like the Original Gods lesson had just become a hell of a lot more interesting. There were a few students already in the room, but thankfully Teacher Sing-Song was late, so there was no lilting welcome tune yet to make me want to hide under one of the desks and plug my ears. Rome pretty much dropped me into the seat beside Coen, the triplets fanning out in the three seats behind us. There weren’t usually spare seats in this class, which would mean that two of the regular sols would be forced to stand with the dwellers.

  Something they would really enjoy.

  The Abcurses, minus Siret, spent the time before the class started alternating between glaring at the students around us and talking in quiet whispers. They couldn’t understand all the looks, and I knew that they were worried about possible Rau-interference.

  Nope. All Willa, boys. There was a high possibility they were going to kill me when they found out what I was doing.

  The teacher breezed in a few clicks after the final bell, her auburn robes long and lacey as they trailed behind her. She had her hair styled up high on her head, which gave her face a permanently surprised expression, which only got more surprised when she noticed the back-right section of the room.

  “Uh, hello there, nice to see you boys again.” Her voice wavered a little, and I could see her mouth open and close more than once as her eyes darted across the room. Right to the place where a couple of sols were grim-faced, standing against the wall.

  It was clear that she wanted to ask what the rest of the Abcurses were doing in her classroom, but she must have decided it wasn’t worth dealing with them, so she simply started her lesson. “Picking up from our last class, we are delving deeper into the history of the creator and the ten original companions.”

  Forgetting about my state of semi-undress, I leaned forward in my chair, elbows propped on my desk. The gods were so much closer and more real to me now; for once in my life, I wanted to hear these lessons. I wanted to know everything.

  “To start, I’m handing out the Tree of the Gods, feel free to
add notes to this.” Teacher Sing-Song strolled over to a small cubby and removed a full stack of ironed, white parchment. “I know this is information learned from a young age, but since our entire aim is to be worthy of the gods, we always revisit the basics to stay updated about all of them.”

  Rome let out a low sigh. “Of course, who wouldn’t want to know which god is screwing which, and how many sols are actually going to make it to Topia.”

  He said it really low—I was pretty sure that only me and his brothers had heard. The teacher didn’t react at all as she continued around the room.

  When the paper landed in front of me, the teacher must have finally noticed what I wore. A low gasp escaped her throat, and she was jittery as she glanced between me and the guys, before she quickly dropped papers on their tables and bailed from our section of the room. I lowered my head to see who made up the God tree:

  Staviti (Original God)

  Ten companions:

  Adeline (Goddess of Beauty)

  Abil (God of Trickery)

  Rau (God of Chaos)

  Terence (God of Bestiary)

  Lorda (Goddess of Obsession)

  Pica (Goddess of Love)

  Ciune (Goddess of Wisdom)

  Gable (God of Vice)

  Crowe (God of Death)

  Haven (God of Nature)

  I was studying the list so intently that when I glanced up, I was a little taken-aback to see five sets of eyes on me. Each of them observing me with varying shades of curiosity.

  “What?” I whispered, slowly glancing down, relieved to see that I was still wearing my underwear—at least—which hopefully meant that to them, I was still completely dressed.

  “If you wanted to know about the Gods, dweller-baby, you should have just asked us,” Coen said, his big hand reaching out to cup around my arm as he dragged our desks closer. “There’s nothing this singing sol could possibly tell you that we wouldn’t know more about.”

  True.

  I had probably the best source of information in the world right at my fingertips, but for some reason, I avoided thinking about them being gods. I liked to pretend that they were still sols, which would mean that only half a world separated them from me. As gods, I wasn’t even in the same universe as them.

  The teacher started prattling again and I tuned in to see what information she could offer.

  “Staviti was the Original God …” she began. Personally, I thought it was a terrible beginning. She needed to work on her hook. Stating obvious facts wasn’t a great way to capture attention.

  Siret leaned forward, his voice in my ear. “How about you listen to what she’s saying so that I don’t have to repeat everything to you later because you were too busy criticizing her delivery to listen to what she was actually saying, hm?”

  I didn’t respond to him, because he was too much of a smart-ass to respond to. Instead, I tuned back into Sing-Song’s monologue.

  “He started as a blessed sol on Minatsol,” she was saying. “Many lifetimes ago. There are no reliable accounts of what actually happened, but it is said that when he was in his mid-life cycle, he was hit with a gift, and the next sun-cycle he awoke to find that he could create fire from thought. He could bring rains with ease. He could control the winds as they swept through the valleys, and change his appearance at will.”

  She was starting with the Origin of the Gods story, one which we were all told from birth. I always thought it was ironic that dwellers were the lowest form of sentient beings on Minatsol, and yet history stated that both gods and sols were born from us: that we were the first.

  “Staviti was from the thirtieth ring, for back then the whole of Minatsol was vibrant and alive. He soon started traveling across the rings, sharing his gift with the people, and the dwellers were in awe of what he had become. He spread his seed far and wide.”

  I cracked a grin. That was always my favourite part of the story. Apparently, Staviti was a bit of a stud in his time: there weren’t many dweller men who could compete with a god-in-training.

  “As he traveled around Minatsol,” Sing-Song continued, ignoring the scattered snorts around the classroom, “he fathered upwards of a hundred children to women from across the land. His children were the first sols, all born with gifts, but none as powerful as their father.”

  She lifted her head from the paper she was holding, as if suddenly realising she wasn’t standing there alone. “Who can tell me what happened next?”

  A small sol in the front row shot her hand into the air, and Sing-Song nodded once. “Letti, go ahead.”

  Letti’s voice was strong and loud, despite her tiny frame. “Staviti lived for many life-cycles beyond a dweller’s normal hundred or so cycles, before finally being cut down by some jealous dwellers.”

  “Bullshit,” I heard Yael mutter.

  Letti was still talking. “After death, he found himself in a land of such vast beauty, it was beyond anything he had seen before. He realised that he was strong and powerful, and that he could still walk upon Minatsol when he wanted to, but that none of the sols or dwellers could follow him back.”

  The teacher nodded her thanks before taking over again. She wasn’t a very good sharer, that was for sure. “Topia was perfect and pure, but it was very lonely for Staviti. He wished for a companion, someone to share the long life-cycles with, and then … with no more than a simple thought, he brought a being to life.”

  “Pica,” Aros said, sounding bored and resigned.

  The teacher’s head whipped around to face the golden male, her eyes blinking rapidly. “There is no reference to which was the first. Just that one was created and Staviti realised that he could bring a family of gods to life, and so he did.”

  Aros didn’t say anything; he just gave her a look which suggested that she was probably too stupid to be a teacher. Her cheeks tinged a dark pink and she was swallowing hard as she spoke again. “The names on the page before you are the gods that he deigned to create. The Original Gods. The ten companions. It took considerable power to create beings, and when Staviti felt his own power wane, he knew he could make no more. So, from then on, gods only came to Topia through the death of a strong, gifted sol. Only those who were worthy upon death would be chosen. What else can you tell me about the gods?”

  It sounded like a subtle dig at the boys, but none of them even bothered raising their hands. Instead, the other sols started offering suggestions.

  “There are thought to be about three hundred gods!” one shouted out.

  “Wrong,” Yael interrupted. “There are ten Originals, nine Betas to the Originals, and about a hundred and eighty others who form minor deities. The chosen sols.”

  The silence seemed loud all of a sudden. Sing-Song stepped up again, trying to regain control of her classroom. “The numbers do vary, but the one thing to remember is that the numbers are small. Which means that the chances of becoming a god are slim. This is why we push you so hard and expect so much from you.”

  The male sol sitting beside Letti thrust his hand in the air, but before being called upon to speak, was already saying, “Is it true that Staviti is the only one with the gift of creation? And do the colours they wear mean anything?”

  The teacher was just opening her mouth to answer when a dweller stepped away from the wall and spoke. “Has a dweller ever become a god? Is there any hope for us?”

  Everything in the world slowed to a stop; it took forever for the sols to pick their jaws up from the floor.

  Holy sweet baby gods. The question in itself was innocent, but it was the meaning behind her actions. That she could step out and ask that. For once it was clear that not all dwellers were content with their life, that they didn’t think it was fair to let the sols have all the glory … and all the hope.

  More than a few glares hit me—the other sols knew exactly where to lay the blame for this anarchy.

  Five

  I was significantly more uncomfortable sitting there in my underwear while being glared at
, but not enough to be outwardly embarrassed. Instead, I met the stares of the sols with my chin tilted up. It wasn’t my fault, no matter what they thought. It was their fault. Their fault for assuming that dwellers didn’t have minds of their own—that they didn’t want things for themselves.

  If a dweller uprising happened at Blesswood, it was the fault of Blesswood, for sticking hundreds of us underground and telling us that we had no rights.

  With these bolstering thoughts, I folded my arms across my chest stubbornly, tilting my chin up an inch higher. It hurt my neck a bit, but that was a small price to pay in order to look badass enough that I might stop getting glared at.

  “You are dismissed from this classroom, dweller,” Sing-Song finally replied. Her tone was shaky.

  The dweller-girl who had spoken looked familiar enough to me that she was probably a recruit. She had a huge mane of bushy hair, the colour a dirty-blond. Her eyes were a nice azure colour, widened now in terror. She seemed to be regretting having spoken up. She stuck her chin to her chest and shuffled quickly toward the door, and something painful sparked inside my chest.

  Now this.

  This might have been my fault.

  I made it look like all dwellers had the freedom to do whatever they wanted without repercussion, when the reality was that only dwellers under the protection of the Abcurses had free-reign of Blesswood. Bushy-haired dweller didn’t have the protection of anyone.

  I shot up in my seat, grabbing the sheath of parchment in my hand and vaulting over the seat in front of me. My foot ended up in the lap of a male sol—judging by the grunt of pain—and my hand was on the shoulder of the female sol sitting next to him. They both leaned away, probably not wanting to get naked-dweller-germs, though it only made it easier for me to squeeze my way past them. By the time I made it to the aisle, however, it became clear that my agile escape attempt had been in vain. A chest already blocked my path.