They all had varying shades of the same colouring, so when they were sitting close together, it was actually very easy to tell them apart. Yael had eyes that were mostly green, with only a little gold in them. His hair was also darker, with more black than gold. His colours made him seem almost earthy: I could see the forest in his eyes, and was sure that I would be able to feel the soot in his hair—not that he’d ever let me touch him. There was something oddly, uncomfortablyrealabout him. Siret had a little more of the gold: the dark of his hair was tainted by it, lighting almost to pure gold as it reached the tips of the strands falling around his eyes. The green of his eyes was lighter, half of the pupil melded with yellow-gold. He had eyes like a cat. An evil cat.
And Aros …
Golden Aros. I couldn’t even make out the green in his iris from where I stood, or the black in his hair. He was a sun-blessed sol with shining, topaz eyes.
“Actually,” he drawled, his eyes flicking to the side of the room and locking onto me, “that’s wrong.”
I thought that he wasansweringmythoughts, but when the rest of the classroom swivelled around in their seats to stare at him, he turned his head toward Teacher Sing-Song.
“The Bestiary God isn’t asnurturingas you might think.”
Teacher Sing-Song stuttered, unsure how to deal with her authority being undermined. I had no idea what she’d even been talking about, because I had been too busy staring at Aros. I wondered how much time had passed.
“The Bestiary God was created by the Original God to populate Topia with animal life-forms,” Sing-Song replied. “In a way, that made him a creator in his own right. A lesser creator, maybe, but one all the same.”
“You described him as anurturing,forgivinggod.” Aros was smiling, his tone as smooth as silk, his posture relaxed.
I was sure that he was mocking her. I just didn’t understand why. She moved to her desk in the centre of the room, shuffling a few sheaths of parchment.
“Do you have information to the contrary, Aros?” she asked carefully.
There was so much tension in the air; even the sols were tense, their wide-eyed attention switching from Sing-Song to Aros, and back.Was a sacred sol trying to say something bad about the gods?I never thought I’d see the day.
“Yes.” Aros sighed. He was acting like it was his job to inform us all differently, and he was sick of the task before it had even begun. “Terence—the Bestiary God, the Original Beaster, is also the Original Asshole—well, other than Rau, but I’m sure nobody here wants to talk abouthim.”
Cue multiple brain explosions.
Sing-Song was shaking, her arm raised to direct a finger toward the door. “G-get out,” she stuttered, her face now sheet-white. “I’ll not have that talk in my classroom.”
I guessed there were limits to the Abcurse rule on special privileges. Even if they were going to become future gods, they still weren’t allowed to upset thecurrentgods.
“Oh don’t worry.” Aros stood, but rolled his eyes. “The gods won’t smite you for hearing my words …” He paused, waiting as his brothers all rose to follow him out of the classroom, appearing completely unfazed. “And I have a feeling they won’t smite me either.” He winked at Sing-Song as he passed, leaving the rest of us standing around, mouths open, metaphorical pieces of our brain scattered all around the room.
I walked out of the classroom in a daze after class ended, not even paying attention to where I was going as two dwellers jostled my shoulders from either side. I was shocked when they quickly dashed away from me—wheneveryonequickly dashed away from me.
“Abcurse brothers,” someone muttered, right before the hall completely cleared of people.
I blinked, still a little dazed, and found myself face-to-face with the triplets. Siret jumped forward, snatching the timetable out of my hand.
“She’s in 2213 next,” he told Yael, who stepped forward, grabbed the timetable, stuffed it into his pocket and then bent until he was on eye-level with me, his hands on his knees.
“Hey there, Rocks.” He was grinning, the deep green hue of his eyes pulling me in, andin …until the world was suddenly fuzzy and nothing existed beyond him. “You’re going to skip your next class and come with us.”
Of course I was.Why would I do anything else?I nodded.
His smile deepened and he turned suddenly, striding off with the other two. As soon as he broke eye-contact with me, I snapped back to myself, as though a frigid bucket of water had just been tossed over my head.
“What the hell was that?” I snapped, even though my legs were carrying me obediently after them.
One of them laughed, and Siret turned on his heel, walking backwards while I still walked forwards. “Aren’t dirt-dwellers supposed to besilent?” he asked me, his expression painted in mocking question.
“If we were always silent, how would we be able to sayyes master, no master, everything you need master, every time one of you sols—” I cut myself off, hearing a gasp to my left.
It was another of the dweller recruits. She had been scurrying along the corridor toward us, but now she was turning and going in the opposite direction. Apparently, she was so desperate not to be associated with me that she was willing to be late and feel the wrath of whatever teacher was in charge of her next classroom.
“Our new dweller is gonna die,” Siret announced, snapping back around to walk normally. He sounded highly entertained. “I give her seven sun-cycles.”
They were discussing me like I wasn’t even there.Andthey were predicting my death. Lovely.
