He gulps as he peers down at me.
“I’ll explain on the way. We need to get a carriage. Everyone stay behind me as we walk through the Division.”
Without another word, he separates himself from us and stomps toward the building. Sevryn doesn’t have to be told twice as he follows right behind him.
Amick, Kyzen, and Riven share a look with one another, then me. Their confused features deepen my own.
Nero analyzes us in silence, and Doren smiles like we’re taking a walk through the fucking meadows. He doesn’t seem concerned in the slightest about where we are.
Which is both confusing and worrisome.
Does Hell not scare him because he lived his own when he was in service to the other gods?
That thought enrages me.
The crunch of the ground is the only sound we make as we traverse across the short barren space separating us from the Division. The emptiness is unsettling.
Kyzen, Riven, and Amick close in around me when two gods step seemingly out of thin air as soon as we approach the massive double doors. My arm twitches with the desire to grab a sword as the entire weight of their attention falls on Creed.
Their features morph from stern to fearful as they hit one knee and lay their fist to their hearts.
“Rise. The entire entourage behind me will travel with me today.”
“Yes, sir.”
They hop up like their asses are on fire and pull the doors open wide.
The bombarding sound of shouts, conversations, pleas, you name it, fades to heavy silence as we stomp to the center of the room. My ears ring as I gawk around at the many bodies that have fallen still, and the marble that’s decorating this enormous space.
The outside is so contradictory to the inside.
It’s so much like the Sanctum in terms of beauty, smooth surfaces, and regards to the gods.
Nothing like Creed.
The beings scattered about are just as confusing.
Some look very unsavory. Their cruel gazes and dark veins scream I’m headed to the Judgment Rings. Some, though, appear asnormalas we do. They’re a prime example that you can’t always see evil on the surface.
“Sir,” a god says as he rushes up to Creed and bows his head. “Welcome home.”
His soul twitches within my chest, and I really don’t know if I should react. The way his shoulders are bunched to his ears gives me the impression he doesn’t want to be fucked with right now. I also don’t want him drowning in these overwhelming emotions he’s got going on.
He’s a powerful mixture of bitterness, anger, and hatred that’s maybe internal and external.
“We’re going to pay Zareb a visit. Prepare a carriage and two Veilatara.”
“I’m sorry, two what?”
My question has a hush even quieter than what we were already standing in falling over the Division.
“Go,” Creed orders, causing the god to jump and bow once again.
“Right away, sir.”
He scurries off, and my glare deepens.
Without looking over his shoulder, Creed reaches his hand back, and I stare at it. From behind me, though, Riven gives me a little shove forward.
