She rolled her eyes. “Naturally.”
“We’re going to prepare,” Cyrus announced, his eyes still on Pica. “I think I can create a temporary pocket inside the garden that will hold until the end of the night. If I create it now, it should be unaffected by Staviti’s manipulations.”
“Where will it lead to?” Yael asked. “Your hideout?”
“I have a better idea,” I answered, before the look of distaste on Cyrus’s face could be put into words. “We should have one that goes to a safe place for everyone else, but from there we should try to make our way to the temple in Minatsol, where the dweller bodies are taken to be made into servers. I think we need answers, and it’s probably theleastlikely place for us to hide out in.”
“That’s true,” Emmy replied, though there was a frown of indecision on her face. “But … if you need to memorise maps and terrain to make the pockets work, wouldn’t Cyrus need to have been there himself?”
“Luckily, I have been.” Cyrus was grinning. “When I was inside Willa’s head, causing … innocent trouble.”
“Don’t remind me.” I scrunched my face up. “I just remembered how much I really kind of hate you.”
“It’s decided then.” Yael’s voice was final, and a little impatient. He could probably sense the fight that was about to break out, and we really didn’t have time for that, with only rotations left until the party.
“Stay safe,” I warned Emmy, with a sideways glance at Cyrus.
“See you soon,” she promised, drawing me into a quick hug before disappearing with Cyrus.
“You guys go ahead,” I said as Siret released me and the five of them stepped toward the path that would lead us back to our cottage on the other side of the platform. “I’ll meet you there.”
They didn’t even hesitate, despite how much I knew they would hate to leave me alone with Pica. My guys knew better than to assume I was too weak to look after myself. I wasn’t thesmartestdweller-turned-god, but I made up for it in … incredibly dangerous accidents. Really, it didn’t matter if I was the best at protecting myself. It was more that I needed to try. I didn’t want to disappear behind the Abcurses. I wanted to stand level with them, just as strong, just as fierce.
“We’re not far,” Yael warned as they headed for the path. “Just shout if you need us.” He tapped the side of his head, his expression stern.
I was sure that the warning had been for Pica, but she was barely paying attention; she was busy stroking her new roses to life. They were growing taller than the rose they had come from, their colour a bright purple, their stalks overgrown with bulbous thorns.
“Be there soon,” I promised, slowly approaching Pica.
She drew away from her scary flowers after a moment, probably sensing me loitering behind her.
“They’re okay,” she told me, sighing happily. “I made them better. Nothing a little love can’t fix.”
“I might have to disagree, but that’s a whole other discussion,” I admitted.
“So cynical, my Willy.” She patted my cheek affectionately, and I wondered if there was anything that I could dowrong.
“Pica … you know I’m going to have to leave if Staviti attacks us?” I wanted to take a few steps backwards, out of “loving” distance, but I fought the urge down and grabbed her hand instead, knowing that I needed to appeal to her on a more familiar level, otherwise her crazy would start to take over.
“You are safe here,” she replied sternly. As expected, her words were underlined in steel, despite the ever-happy expression painted on her face.
“If I’m safe wherever you are, then I can stay with you, but if he attacks, it means that he’s decided that not even you will hold him back anymore. Do you think I threaten his existence in some way?”
“Why do you ask.” It wasn’t even spoken like a question. The smile had finally slipped away, and her words were accompanied by a sniff, her shoulders squaring.
“The strongest sols on Minatsol threatened his existence in some way, so he set out to destroy them. Rau having a beta would have threatened his existence in some way, and so he forbade it. The god children threatened his existence in some way, and he got rid of those too. And so it stands to reason that I threaten his existence.”
“So you do,” she replied, pulling her hand from mine and sweeping the bottom of her crimson robe up from the ground, moving back toward her marble house.
She left the door open, so I followed her inside, finding her in the sitting room where she had perched on the edge of a chaise, her eyes riveted to the window, through which she could see the garden bed that she had just been tending.
“Which do you think is more important to him,” I pressed gently, sitting beside her. “His existence, or you?”
Instead of answering my question, she fished something out of her pocket, setting it on my lap. Her expression was downright morose, and her fingers lingered on the tiny piece of folded paper for a click before withdrawing. I unfolded it, frowning at the words scrawled there.
DJ Snake.
“What …” I frowned, rereading. “What does this mean?”
