“There is a great purpose imbued in her,” Terrance whispered, a foreboding tone riding his words. “She is not a normal server, but none of us know Staviti’s exact method for creating the servers, so I can’t tell you in what way she is different, only that she is. Most of Staviti’s creations have the freedom afforded them by their own essence, or soul. Every creature, every god, every living thing. They all have a soul—and that soul is not the creation of Staviti, it is a pure, empty vessel that slowly fills and forms over the course of their existence. It is freedom. That is what makes the servers different.” He stopped, his hand falling away from Donald, a frown pulling down the corners of his wide mouth as he turned to face us.
“You mean the servers are different because they have no soul?” I asked, a sick feeling building somewhere inside me.
I was pretty sure that I understood him correctly, but I was naively hoping for a different explanation. I couldn’t bear to think of my mother like that, or any of the other servers.
Terrance shook his head though, and I wondered where I’d misunderstood. “It’s not that they don’t have a soul, it’s that Staviti damages it. Tearing the soul in many places, imbuing his will into them so that they can be controlled. Then when he’s done with the server, that damaged soul is sent to the banishment cave.”
Holy gods, that was even worse than I’d thought.
“But my mother?” I prompted, as his eyes drifted back toward her. “Her soul is not as damaged?”
“She has somethingwholeremaining,” he admitted. “She was damaged, but whatever process he usually uses was not completed. A part of her soul remains pure. For some reason. Since this is Staviti we’re talking about, I can only assume that it was deliberate.”
Was it because part of her soul had resided in the imprisonment realm? The part that I now held inside of me?
We need to go back to Minatsol. I sent the thought out in my mind, and heard a quiet grunt of agreement behind me.We need to go back to one of the temples where the guardians transform the servers. If we can find out exactly how the servers are made, we might be able to figure out how and why they’re malfunctioning now.
I cast a brief look over my shoulder, drawing my eyes over the Abcurses. Coen inclined his head the slightest bit, while the others all appeared completely impassive. They had probably known that Coen would be the one to answer me.
“So it’s true?” Terrance’s voice drew my attention back to him.
“What is?” I asked, spinning back around. I hadn’t even realised that I had begun to turn more fully toward the Abcurses.
“You have a soul-bond with Abil’s sons,” Terrance replied. “All five of them.”
He almost made it sound as though I had forced the soul-bond out of them. As though I had stolen them.
“Maybetheyall have a soul-bond withme,” I returned, tilting my chin up a little. “All one of me.”
Terrance looked as though he might smile, but instead, he only stepped away from Donald, toward me. Suddenly, his hand was outstretched, his fingers beckoning.
I gulped. Now it was my turn.
I found myself with a small sliver of personal space as the Abcurses stepped back. They didn’t go far though, and I sensed that Terrance wasn’t someone that they particularly trusted.
“Why does Pica have a soft spot for you?” I asked suddenly, wondering where his allegiances were.
He stepped even closer, stopping less than an arm’s length away, and a curious expression lifted his features. It was almost a softness.
“She likes to collect things,” he said slowly. “For a short time, I was one of those things.”
I remembered Emmy telling me that Terrance had slept with Pica. Cyrus had used his knowledge of the fact as leverage over Terrance. It made me look at him in a different light.
“You’re lucky you got out intact,” I said, a short laugh escaping me. “In my experience, she doesn’t like to let go once she’s collected you.”
Terrance’s expression shuttered and he ran a hand across his face in a tired manner. “Let’s just say that if she needs me, I appear.”
Ew.That was definitely more information than I needed to know about Crazy-pants’s sex life.
“I’m going to touch you now,” Terrance warned me, and despite the newfound tension in the room, he took another step closer. “Try not to kill me.” The last part was definitely directed at the Abcurses.
I refrained from reminding him again that I might be the one to kill him. That was the problem with being a dweller turned god: everyone continued to think of you as the weak, mortal being. I really needed to start demonstrating my power more.
At that thought, the entire table of food burst into flames, and the ground started rocking back and forth like the house was about to dislodge itself from the top of the marble platform.
From the corner, Donald straightened and began to scramble around the table, catching falling grapes and straightening bowls and platters of food on the second table. She was making me nervous, standing so close to the flames.
Disgusting food must not get away.
