Siret wrapped his hand around mine then and I closed my eyes briefly as we stepped through the pocket to the edge of the Garden of Everlasting. The spot we landed on was cold and snowy, but the garden just in front of us appeared to be untouched. It was as wild as ever, but completely free of white.
The last frontier, apparently.
Since there was no better time to show them what I’d recently learned I could do, I spun and faced them. “We should probably get this place ready,” I said. “I mean, it’s a party after all, even if it’s a please-support-my-plans-to-overthrow-your-Creator kind of party.”
The truth of what I was had been coming to me for quite a while now. I had been scared to admit it, because the implications and responsibilities of it were huge, but there was no more time to hide in shadows or deceive myself.
“I can transform this into a party paradise,” I told them, turning back toward the garden.
Coen stepped up to my side, his gaze contemplative. “We invited King to set up the party right here beside the garden. Close enough that we can escape into the garden if we need to, but far enough away that people won’t be scared off by the garden. He’s pretty good with throwing a party together at short notice. He should be here in a few clicks.”
I shook my head. “We won’t need him. Well … maybe a few finishing touches, but I got this.”
Five sets of eyes were locked on me, and I was surprised that none of them seemed to be shocked by my words. It was pretty obvious that I was talking about transforming the garden itself, and not the space beside us that Coen had indicated. They weren’t shocked that I, alone, was going to attempt to transform a powerful, magic-resistant garden. Maybe they’d heard my thoughts earlier. Or maybe they just had that much faith in me. Either way, it was time to show them what IthoughtI could do.
I stepped out of the snow and onto a small patch of brilliant green grass, the only spare space in the garden before the masses of bushes and trees began. The cold faded and a pleasant heat surrounded me, followed by the scent of grass and flowers and newly blooming life. It was so weird after the cold that I was disoriented for a moment. My body adjusted quickly though, and then I started to build the perfect party in my mind.
We would need lots of cleared space, but I definitely didn’t want to destroy any of the garden. Which meant that I would have to … rearrange.
When I had it all planned clearly in my head, I let the heat rise within me, sending it forth to do my bidding. I kept the image of what I wanted strong in my mind, focussing on the finished product. I didn’t let it waver for even a moment, afraid that I would screw up my creation.
The heat reached the burning, uncomfortable phase quickly, but I didn’t let that deter me. I just continued to push the heat out into the world.Shape it for me.
I was just worrying that I wouldn’t know when it was complete, because opening my eyes might break the mental image, when the heat died away. My arms fell from where I’d been holding them a little away from my body, and I opened my eyes.
The gasp that escaped from my lips was low, but it held genuine surprise. Even though I’d believed deep down that Jakan hadn’t been lying—I was Creation—it was still hard to believe that I had shaped Topia to my vision.
Creation.
The Garden of Everlasting was now fit for a party, with one huge field of thick, clipped grass. It was so green that it almost hurt my eyes to stare at. The bushes and trees had moved, lining either side of the cleared area like a fence of sorts. Huge bushes of roses and other bright flowers were scattered between greenery, adding brightness and a sweet scent to the area. There was a small lake at the far end, which left only one entrance into the party now … unless you wanted to swim across.
I was determined that we would be the ones in control of the situation, not the other way around.
“Well, well, baby girl,” Aros said, striding across with his huge steps to reach my side. “You’ve been holding out on us.”
There was not one ounce of unease or suspicion on his gaze. I looked between the others as well, who joined me a click later. “You’re all okay with this, right?” I asked, worried that I might have caused a shift in our dynamic.
Five heads nodded, strong and sure.
“We already knew you were special, Soldier.” Siret stepped up to my side. “This isn’t a surprise for us.”
“You are Creation,” Coen said, his face softer than it usually was. “And you’re not a Beta God. You don’t draw your powers from Staviti. You draw them directly from Topia.”
“Is that how a beta works?” I asked. “The beta takes his energy through the stronger god?”
He tilted his head to the side, considering his answer. “Sort of. In normal circumstances, where the gods were sols transformed, yes, that is how it works. A beta will draw power through the main god, and also through Staviti—because we all do.”
“It’s not the same for us,” Yael added. “We were born as gods, so while we are betas, we don’t draw our energy through Staviti, because he didn’t really create us. We just let them think that he did because it makes them feel better. Safer.”
I wrinkled my nose, considering his words. “That doesn’t sound like something you’d be okay with,” I admitted.
Yael chuckled. “It’s not always easy, but it’s a piece of advice we took from our parents. Gods are competitive bastards with plenty of time to plan their attacks. We didn’t want to be fighting gods all the time, so we claimed to be just like them.”
“Your faithful party planner is here.”
A loud voice boomed from behind us, and I quickly leaned around Coen’s bulk so I could see who it was. I found myself blinking at the strangest god I’d ever seen. He wore no shirt, but his chest was still difficult to see because he had draped so many chains around his neck that I was surprised he could still hold his head up. One of the thicker chains secured a huge, round golden pendant, which covered almost his entire abdomen. Below that he had on a pair of black shiny pants, tighter than the Abcurses liked to wear. It also looked like his bright emerald eyes were lined in black, and his nails were dark too. His black hair was secured in a long braid extending down his bare back. Gold threads wound through the dark strands.
“King, I’m guessing,” I murmured.
