The trip back to the train was a dizzy dream. My emotions were still frozen, courtesy of Yael. He had to top up the Persuasion every so often, because occasionally the panic would burst through and I would start bawling like a baby. Something which seemed to cause a lot of brow-creasing in the Abcurse brothers.
The train was apparently the quickest way back. We had piled into the empty carriage—there was no one on it, courtesy of Rome, who tossed them out without an ounce of remorse. As it started to move, I remained glued to Siret’s side; I might have been numb, but my brain still knew it was bad. Really bad. He was no longer conscious, despite my constant yelling at him to wake up. There wasn’t even a flutter of his eyelashes. No glimpse of beautiful, mischievous eyes.
The tears just wouldn’t stop flowing. I had been batting them away, but that got tiring so I just let them fall, soaking his already blood-soaked clothing.
“I can’t take this any longer.” Coen’s mutters had my head lifting up from Siret’s chest.
The massive sol was up front, where he had been standing guard. He strode down the aisle and with hands far more gentle than I was used to from him, lifted me from his brother and hugged his big body right around me.
“It’s going to be okay, dweller-baby. Siret is tougher than you think, and this isn’t his first knife in the chest.” I pulled myself as hard as I could into him, burying my head into his warmth. His words got a little strangled then. “Please, for the love of my sanity, and the safety of this train’s walls, stop crying.”
“Stop getting stabbed,” I shot back, a flicker of emotion surging through me again.
Coen held me like that for the rest of the journey. I only lifted my head to check on Siret, but otherwise I remained in his comforting embrace.
Finally, the train crossed the water and pulled into the station atop the massive mountain.
Rome carried Siret, moving with ease, and I was set on my feet to walk between Coen and Aros. The golden sol brushed his hands across my face, and as he pulled them away, I realised that not only were my cheeks covered in tears, but they were also streaked with Siret’s blood.
There was no time for me to fall apart again, though. It was just a little blood. Or a lot of blood, which was leaking out of one my Abcurses.
They were so mine.
No point in denying it any longer.
I was thankful that Aros kept a tight hand on my shirt, because his grip stopped me from plummeting down at least eight times. Once we hit flat ground, Rome took off at a run, and that was when Yael’s persuasion wore off completely. Those assholes! How dare they mute my fear and pain! How dare they lessen my worry about Siret! It was serious … it had to be. Rome would never run like that unless it was serious.
I took off then too, as fast as my clumsy legs could move. Running was not my thing, I’d said that more than once, but right then I was a freaking athlete. Ignoring the burn, I was actually keeping pace with the brothers. Probably they were keeping pace with me, but it was much better for my sanity to think the pace was theirs.
We circled around the outer areas of Blesswood; it was later in the sun-cycle now, the sun was lowering itself to make way for night. When we reached the dingy back entrance to Topia, Aros reached out and threaded our fingers together. I glanced down, my eyes widening slightly.
He caught my look. “You have to touch one of us, remember?”
Oh, right. Of course, this was nothing more than necessity. They had a pact, I couldn’t forget that. A pact to keep our pack together.
We crossed over with ease and then we were back in the land of pretty and weird. Rome, who had gone through first, was waiting for us. Siret was still in his arms, and I rushed across so that I could make sure that he was still alive. I placed my fingers on his face, sliding them along his cheeks and down to his throat to feel for a pulse.
His skin was hot, almost burning, but there was a steady beat in his throat.
“He’s feverish,” I said, lifting my head to the others. “Why did you bring him here? Who will help him in Topia? We should have gone to Blesswood healers.”
Rome shifted his brother higher in his arms, before shaking his head. “Trickery is going to need a little more help than a sol healer.” Then he tilted his head back and roared into the sky above. “Abil!”
I didn’t understand … what was more than a sol healer and who the hell was Abil? The name sounded familiar. Wait … wasn’t Abil the god I had stolen from? Just as I thought it, purple robes burst into view as a god stepped out of thin air. Nifty trick that one. I ducked my head down and tried not to stare at him.