Twelve
Cyrus
Two rotations later, we were gathered once again in Willa’s cleverly-designed jail cell, or ‘bedroom’ as Pica insisted on calling it. Willa was sitting on the very end of the bed, Rome and Yael either side of her, the others stationing themselves around the room at seemingly deliberate vantage-points. Each of them had a clear view of both Willa and the door.
Not that I blamed them.
Emmy was securely tucked under my arm, and I was on high-alert. She had initially tried to wiggle away from me, growing skittish from the looks that Willa kept throwing at her. Each time she tried to escape, I released her shoulder and rested my hand against the back of her neck. It calmed her every single time, like magic. I had no ideawhy, just as I had no idea why I loved the fact so much, but I wasn’t going to look a gift-pantera in the mouth.
So my girl liked when I touched her neck?I wasn’t going to start complaining, just as long as she didn’t allow anyone else to touch her this way. After the first few escape attempts, she gave up. Now she was cuddled up into my side, her hands tucked up against her body as her head rested lightly against my chest.
I had a feeling she was exhausted, and I hardly blamed her. The last few sun-cycles that we had endured were enough to exhaust even me. And she had died and returned as a god in that time. I wanted to drag her home and put her to bed, but we had to discuss our situation first.
“I have received word from the others,” Pica announced, breezing her way back into the room, her robes fanning out and fluttering about with the briskness of her movements.
She frowned at Yael and Rome—who left no room for her to sit beside Willa—before she pulled up a chair and sat down with a flourish, crossing her legs and fussing with her robe.
“Will they come?” Coen asked from his position up against a dresser, his shoulders resting back against the wall.
“Of course!” Pica responded the same way as she had the first time we had asked that question, a rotation ago. We had thought that she was just being overtly-optimistic then, so we were all a little surprised to hear the same answer again.
“Really?” Siret quirked a brow. “Everyone you sent messages to agreed to stand with us in a war against Staviti?”
Pica fluttered her fingers, trying to brush away his statement. “They agreed to come to a party. We’ll ask them at the party.”
Willa groaned, and I heard the short puff of frustration that escaped Emmy, though she managed to keep her cool.
“When is the party?” I asked, mulling over the idea.
It wasn’t a bad one, as far as Pica’s ideas went. If we asked the gods in person, I would be able to see their faces when they answered. I would know if they were lying or not. Knowing our enemies was almost more important than knowing our friends.
“Seven sun-cycles from now,” Pica answered jovially. “Not enough time for preparations, to be sure!”
“Why is she happy about that?” Emmy muttered, only loud enough for me to hear.
I slipped my hand up along the line of her delicate shoulders, my fingers pushing beneath her hair and spanning out over the back of her neck. She relaxed instantly, the tension draining out of her.
Fuck. I loved that.
“What is there to prepare?” Willa asked.
Pica clapped her hands together, apparently delighted at being asked to explain something. “We must find and secure a location,” she explained. “And then we will need to ward it against attacks. While our guests might not all know the reason for this gathering, Staviti will certainly know. We might end up trapped there—so we must prepare appropriate provisions, shelters, and escape routes if possible. Oh, and the most important thing of all! We must prepareyou!”
“Me?” Willa released the word on a strangled sound, apparently still trying to wrap her head around the gravity of everything Pica had just told her in the happiest and most excited of voices.
“If the gods are to turn on Staviti, they need to know that Staviti’s equal is also standing with them, or else they will be too afraid.”
“I’m not Staviti’s equal,” she blurted.
The Abcurses looked like they were about to jump in and insist that she was, so I quickly spoke. “You might not be, but they don’t need to know that. The more powerful you look and seem, the more likely it will be that they will stand with you. If you show weakness or accidentally set yourself on fire … you might as well say goodnight to this little rebellion, because it won’t ever see the light of day.”
“Great pep talk,” Willa muttered dryly, her eyes rolling up to the ceiling, before she seemed to gather herself, turning her attention back to Pica. “I’ll do whatever you think I need to. I’ll be ready.”
“Good,” I said quickly, before Pica could do any number of the things that she was likely about to do, like squeal or start clapping her hands again. “Then we can start preparations in the next sun-cycle, and we should also prepare Emmanuelle because …” I trailed off, a surge of protectiveness falling over me.
My words died, my fingers tightening their hold on the back of Emmy’s neck. She startled, glancing up at me, but I avoided her eyes. I couldn’t allow Pica to know what Emmy really was. I couldn’t letanyof the gods know what Emmy really was. It didn’t matter that she would prove to be Willa’s greatest asset in winning people over to our side. The only thing that mattered was that Staviti would want her dead—and she was an easier target than Willa.
Everyone was staring at me, waiting for me to finish. I tried again, but the words still wouldn’t come. I simply couldn’t put her in that kind of danger.
