Strength (Curse of the Gods #4)

“Ugh,” I clutched at my head, shaking away my mother’s inner monologue. I had no idea why it was being broadcast into my mind, but I had a whole new appreciation for the Abcurses having to listen to my thoughts all the time.

“That must be it,” breathed out Aros, his eyes lighting up. Apparently, he had been listening in on everything going on in my mind. “You say you brought back part of her soul?”

I nodded, not trusting myself to reply, because Pica was casting us glances from where she had seated herself at the little table.

“You didn’t return it to her.” Coen finished Aros’s thought. “You kept it—assimilated it—the way we all did with the pieces of your soul that latched onto us.”

Fell into the water. Need new covering. Covering. Covering. Covering. Can’t find covering. Late. Late. Late.

My mother reappeared, dripping wet. She was holding a tray piled with three little teapots, which she placed on the table before Pica.

“Why are you wet?” Pica asked her, appearing perplexed.

Lie, my mother’s thoughts projected to me clearly, a moment before she opened her mouth.

“It was time for my bath, Sacred One. I must stay clean and presentable.”

Pica laughed. “You are just so delightful! Lovely, just lovely!”

“You know what else would be just so lovely?” I asked Pica, moving over to take a seat beside her, the brilliance of my sudden idea spurring me into immediate action.

“Tell me!” Pica bounced about excitedly, forgetting about my mother as she waited for my reply, her eyes wide and unblinking.

“If I had my own little residence here, on this platform, with you!” I exclaimed, trying to match her level of excitement. “I could be like … a grown-up god. Living here with you. We could live like a connected family … in our own separate houses! I could have my own house over … there!” I pointed in the opposite direction to her residence, not even bothering to check what I was pointing at. “And I could have my own server … how about Donald? You like her so much, so maybe she can be my server now … in my new house … over there …”

I trailed off, waiting for a reaction. I didn’t know Pica very well, but from what I did know of her, the chances of her bursting into sudden tears were as good as her approving of the idea. The guys also seemed to be waiting, sharing glances with each other and me. Barely any of us were daring to breathe, until finally, Pica exploded out of her chair.

“Oh YES. What a LOVELY idea!” She seemed even more excited about this than she had been about the lamp. “We must organise this immediately …” she was wandering off in the direction I had pointed, talking to herself—or possibly to me, though she didn’t check to see if I was following.

Silence remained in her wake, until finally all of us started to laugh. Siret cracked first, followed by Rome and Aros. Yael and Coen only chuckled, shaking their heads. Emmy was grinning at me, and Donald was standing there, expressionless.

New home.

The thought hit me, spoken in my mother’s voice, and I could feel the clench of my heart.

“New home,” I confirmed, looking at her.