The wavering shape of arms appear and both figures twist until solidifying a bit more. Soon, they resemble demons straight from the pits of Hell, claws dragging along the ashen surface in jagged strokes. Dust stirs up with each swipe of their hands, a death rattle slipping from mouths that I can’t see as they try to suck air into bodies not meant to breathe.
They claw at the earth with frantic desperation, parting in opposite directions as they follow an arcing path. The keening shriek that rends the air has all of us clutching our hands to our ears to keep them from bleeding. Azazel skitters away from Atlas to join the others, and soon, the wailing fades as heavy splats of water flatten the ash at their feet. Thick tears stream down their faces as their cries taper off, coating the earthen circle at their feet.
From those tears, small blooms push through the desolate earth, life forming in the face of their laments. The ring gradually takes shape, the forget-me-nots taking on a new meaning that we never considered.
They were created by creatures begging not to be forgotten.
“At least we know what you were doing wrong now,” Cambria whispers. I glance at her, matching tears snaking over her cheeks that she doesn’t bother to swipe away.
She faces the changelings that radiate so much misery, sharing their pain. Lucien may have thought that he should swap namesakes with Atlas, but if anyone deserves to, it’s her.
No wonder she handles everything as well as she does. The changelings might mirror whatever energy they consume, but Cambria reflects the pain that their true forms conceal to a world that refuses to care. Cursed to be their keeper and bear the burdens that most people will never even know exist.
The ring finishes forming, and gradually, the surrounding ash gives way to a hint of green, a bit of grass appearing where there was nothing before. Over the course of several minutes, it only makes it a couple of inches, but it’s enough to confirm our theory of the purpose of the rings being to steal energy rather than transport a person; that’s just a perk.
The changelings curl up around the outer ring, and when Luce takes a step closer, a warning rumbles through their monstrous chests that have him instantly stepping back. Their eyes fall on us as they guard the ring until we’re all left confused as hell, but not nearly dumb enough to try using it right now.
“Yeah, Atlas.” He glances up at me and the grin that’s currently splitting my face. “You forgot to cry. Do it again; once more with feeling.”
He flips me off. “Oh fuck off, D.”
I turn to Lucien, and the look he gives me could flay skin. “I’m not doing it. He needs to cry, he can fucking do it himself.”
“Oh come on, you big babies,” Cambria chuckles, wiping the evidence of her own tears from her face. “For the good of the realm.”
They don’t even miss a beat, replying in tandem, “Fuck the realm.”
Chapter 12
Atlas
––––––––
Two hours later, thechangelings are still guarding the ring like it’s their precious, and the other three are staring at me like I hold the answers to the universe. “How the hell do you expect me to just cry on demand? Over what?”
“How your father never loved you?” Cambria retorts instantly and I shoot her a withering glare.
