Consciousness returned, and with it came hurried whispers. “There has to be a way to keep her out of this fucking game.” Yael’s rage was palpable. “They’re doing this to punish us. I think we should just war against the gods.”

My throat was dry and my words were raspy when I said, “Bad idea. Gods are bastards.”

I managed to prop my eyes open then, to find myself staring up at a familiar wooden ceiling. Five faces filled the space above me, looking down from an impossible height, and as I struggled up, multiple hands reached down to assist me. I looked around to confirm what I had noticed upon waking. We were in the lower level of the Sacred Sands arena. Off to the right were the stairs that would lead us up into the main arena.

My hand reached up and clasped onto the necklace, feeling some reassurance that it was still in place. I wondered if the rest of the link had been reinstated. I have boobs! I sent that thought out, and when five heads jerked in my direction, I knew that my soul-link was back, and still as strong as it had been before.

I struggled to my feet, somewhat steady as I reached out and wrapped my arms around Aros. My body relaxed as tension I hadn’t even realised was there disappeared altogether.

“Ahh, my soul-link is back!” I cheered.

Aros laughed as he pulled away, his eyes locked onto my face. “You have boobs? That was the thought you decided to share?”

I shrugged, stepping back from his warmth. “It’s a fact. Facts are important.”

His eyes lingered on my face before slowly dropping to my chest. “I agree.”

“If you’re all done screwing around, it’s time for us to deal with the current situation.” Coen was still all business-like, which was annoying.

With a whoosh, a small fire sprung up on the bench I’d just been sitting on. All six of us turned to stare at it. No one said anything for a click, before Coen spoke again. “They’re going to call us at any moment. We need to draw our rounds out so that there’s a good show, that way Willa will have no pressure on her to entertain.”

“What order do we go on in?” I asked.

Coen’s broad shoulders shifted uncomfortably. “I have no idea. They’re doing their best to keep us in the dark.”

The heat at my back was growing more intense, but still no one bothered to mention the small fire in the room. I wasn’t sure anyone thought anything of it anymore, since it seemed to happen so regularly around me.

“So I’m allowed to use my Chaos powers?” I wanted to know the rules; I couldn’t have anyone else getting punished because I didn’t listen this time.

Rome nodded. “Yes, you can use anything at your disposal. Don’t forget that your opponent will probably be a gifted sol, so they’ll also have abilities.”

I heard a small shriek then, and spun toward the sound. A blonde, male dweller had just dashed around the corner and was staring with wide eyes at the six-foot flame right behind us. He started gasping and flapping his hands in the air above his head before he turned and ran off again. I looked behind me, making sure there was nothing else going on that I had missed. Nope, just a little fire.

“I love the way you keep saying little fire,” Aros said, laughter in his tone. “It’s singeing the ceiling, sweetheart.”

Sure, there were a few black marks spreading across the ceiling, but it didn’t look that bad. A barrage of footsteps echoed through the area, and then at least a dozen dwellers dashed down the stairs and hurried to where we were standing.

They all bowed low, before multiple sets of flapping hands were waved at us. “Please leave this area,” one said in a rush.

Another leaned closer and whispered, “There’s a fire behind you.”

My lips twitched, but I fought the smile back. “Thanks, but it’s fine. It’s just a l—”

“Little fire,” Aros said.

I glared at him before letting out a ragged breath. “Okay, maybe it’s medium-sized now, but I’ve seen worse.”

None of the Abcurses looked surprised by this, and I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out. Half of the dwellers were still bowing to them, so I figured that was punishment enough. One even hit the floor in an attempt to get as low as was possible. They weren’t going to stop until we left the room, so to save everyone time, I reached out and laced my right hand with Yael’s, and my left hand with Siret’s. “Come on, we might as well wait over here.”

I dragged them toward the stairs, knowing the others would follow. When we were near the bottom step, an announcement rang through the room.

“Calling to the arena: Coen Abcurse, gifted with Pain.” There was a slight pause, and then the announcer continued. “He will face Leonard Fitzwilliam, gifted with Ember.”

I tilted my head to the side and met Coen’s gaze. “Ember?” I asked.

“His hands can create fire. Not like you do. He has to touch something to use his power.”

I nodded. That wasn’t so bad. That was no match for a God of Pain. Only … Coen wasn’t allowed to use his powers. My heart was pounding with heavy, rapid beats as I gulped in air—but I didn’t have time to panic before my hands were released and strong arms wrapped around me.

“I’m going to be fine, dweller-baby,” he murmured into my ear. Some of my panic dissipated at the sound of his familiar, grumbling voice. He’d been so business-like and serious, and it had bothered me.

I wiggled my arms free and wrapped them as tightly as I could around his neck. “Don’t die, or get burned, or kill the sol.” My strangled words had him chuckling.

“Anything else?” He pulled back so he could stare into my eyes. I shook my head rapidly.

“Nope, that’s all.”

Still looking amused, he lowered me down, and then turned to go up the stairs. I must have made a distressed sound, because he let out a low growl, spun back around, reached down and hauled me up with ease. His lips pressed firmly to mine, and all of the air fled my lungs in a rush. Everything inside of me curled closer to him, my body overcome by the instinct to climb his massive frame and press myself as tightly to his body as I could. Tingling shocks ran along my arms, before continuing down to … other parts of my body. His touch was literally electrifying.

“Pain!” The snap of his name seemed to break through the kiss, and he shook himself as he handed me across to Rome.

“Watch her, don’t let her out of your sight,” was his last order before he reached out to Siret.

Without a word, Siret gripped his arm, and full body armour materialised over Coen’s clothing.

“How will they stop you from using your powers?” I asked, my voice breathless.

His solemn gaze met mine. “By threatening the only thing in the worlds that we give a shit about.”

He walked away then, the body suit making him look huge and intimidating. I didn’t tear my eyes away until he disappeared out into the arena above. To distract myself, I looked around at the charred back of the room. The dwellers had cleared out at some point, after putting the fire out. I couldn’t sit still, knowing that Coen was out there, and I couldn’t even see what was happening.

“I need to see him,” I blurted. “Can we go somewhere to observe?”

The guys exchanged a look, but no one argued. Siret led the way, taking us from the stairs and down a small, dark hallway. There was another set of stairs at the end, and I was positioned between Siret and Yael as we marched up. Arriving on a small platform, I moved closer to the railing, only to realise we were looking down on the huge arena.

“This used to be a viewing platform for lesser gods; those who weren’t permitted in the box,” Aros explained.

I nodded a few times, my eyes still locked on the two figures standing down on the sand. There were no obstacles this time, just a huge expanse of free area. The stands, from what I could see, were full. No one would want to miss out on this spectacle.

The announcer’s voice sounded close. “Prepare yourselves, competitors. We are putting eight clicks on the timer. The last contestant standing will be named the winner of the round. Sols, this is your chance to impress the gods: do not waste it.”

A timepiece went into the sky. It was huge, very clearly displaying the arms as they clicked around. Eight clicks … I doubted Coen would need a quarter of that time.

The sol looked wary—who could blame him, really—as he sized up the male across from him. He stood just below Coen’s shoulders, and I could have sworn that he wore lifted shoes.

“You’d think they would have at least searched for someone who might stand a chance?” Yael shook his head, before crossing his arms over his chest. I would have replied, but I was too busy freaking out.

It had begun.

An arm draped over my shoulders and pulled me closer. “Relax, Soldier,” Siret said. “It’ll all be over in a fraction of a click.”

Coen, clearly sick of watching Leonard circle him, let out a visible exhale before he started to move. He wasn’t god-fast, clearly obeying the rules, but he was still fast as his long legs ate up the distance between him and the sol.

Leonard turned and ran away. His scrawny legs were pumping as he launched himself up the side of the arena, clinging on like a small bug of some kind. I absolutely did not blame him. Coen charging at him like that would have been all kinds of scary. Hanging from the wall wouldn’t end their fight, though. I knew that from experience. Coen went ahead and scaled it with the same ease as running across a completely flat surface. Neither of those things were easy for me, but he made it look so simple. When he drew even with the terrified sol, it appeared that they were having some sort of conversation, and I could see Leonard nodding his head with a frozen look on his face.

Suddenly, Leonard let go of the side, and without doing a thing to break his fall, plunged right into the sand below. The crowd let out gasps, and I heard some jeers. Leonard wasn’t making any sounds at all. Leonard wasn’t even moving. A set of doors at the base of the arena burst open, and a bunch of dwellers rushed out to scoop him up and drag him away. Coen just launched himself off the side of the wall, landing gracefully. He strode with a casual arrogance back toward the exit from the arena.

“He didn’t even touch him!” I sputtered out, my voice a half-screech. “How did he get Leonard to knock himself out like that?” I looked between all of them.

The rest of the Abcurses all wore blank expressions, but I could read the dark twinkle in Siret’s eyes.

“What have you five done?” I demanded. “You can’t use your powers; you’re going to get into trouble!”

I might have hated Staviti and Rau, but that didn’t mean I wanted another god fight to break out. Rome patted me on the head, and I would have kicked him in the shins, except his pat soon turned into a soft caress across my cheek. “Don’t you worry. We’ve been getting around the rules of the gods for a long time.”

I was starting to get a sneaking idea of what they had done, and if it was true, then he was … pretty smart, actually.

Some of the shock wore off in the crowd, and the announcer’s voice sounded again. “Next to the arena is Aros, gifted with Seduction. He will be competing against Jewel, also gifted with Seduction.”

Well … shit.

I turned to the golden god and before I could think it through, both of my hands were clenched around the material of his shirt, pulling him close to me. I was already up on my toes, but he had to lift me even higher so my lips could reach his. The kiss burned through me like a ray of sunshine. His goldenness seeped into me, and I felt warmth in every single inch of my being.

He pulled away before I could completely lose myself. My breathing was harsh and heavy as I said, “Barely even rolled me that time.”

He grinned, that beautiful, perfect grin, and I slumped forward, catching myself against his hard chest. “Don’t let her Seduction you,” I murmured. “I’ll come out there and accidentally punch her on purpose. You know I can do it.”

I was set back on my feet as another hard kiss was pressed to my lips. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart, she won’t even get a chance to open her mouth.”

His eyes flicked to Yael, and more of my suspicions were cemented. They were somehow borrowing powers from each other. That way, whoever was in the arena wasn’t using their power, it was one of the other gods.

How were they doing that?

Aros disappeared out of our secret viewing station, passing Coen on the way in—who had to duck his head to get through the door, before he crossed over to join us.

I reached up and patted one of his biceps. “Great job, One. Wasn’t worried for a moment.”

He just shook his head at me, but I edged a little closer. “When you said before that they threatened the only thing you guys gave a shit about … well, what did they threaten?”

I was wondering if their mother had returned: maybe they were using her against them. I doubted they could threaten Abil. Their father seemed to be able to handle himself. Four sets of eyes in varying shades of green were locked on me, and that was when it hit.

“Me? They threatened me?” I smiled broadly. “I knew you all liked me. No point in denying it any longer.”

Yael’s brow furrowed and he looked like he was in a great amount of pain. “How can the fact that gods are threatening you almost every sun-cycle not be bothering you?”

I shrugged. “It’s really not a big deal. My teachers and fellow dwellers in the villages used to threaten me all the time too. I’m more than used to it.”

I returned my attention to the arena as Aros took to the sands, walking out into the middle of the empty space and spinning in a small, graceful circle. There was no sign of his opponent. I shifted from foot to foot, growing more anxious by the moment, but Aros seemed to be completely relaxed. He walked a short distance. Stopped. Returned, and did another small spin. He settled his eyes on the god-box, quirked a brow, and his lip tilted up just slightly at the corner. The people in the stands started to fidget, a hushed murmur carrying through them.

Eventually, Aros threw out his arms. “Am I not an appealing opponent?” he called out, his voice carrying across the space clearly.

The stands shook with nervous laughter, and Aros eventually grinned, his perfect features almost mischievous as he faced the god-box again. The laughter faded away as the nervous clearing of a throat filled the arena. It was the announcer.

“The second Seduction sol has … withdrawn from the fight. A new contestant has been chosen.”

A louder wave of murmuring swept through the arena, and several of the rows of waiting sols jumped to their feet, craning over and around each other to spot who the new contestant was. I didn’t bother looking—my attention was all on Aros. The mischief in his face had been chased away by annoyance, and he was staring our way, as though sharing his annoyance with us. It was nice of him to share and everything, but I had no damn idea what was happening. I apparently wasn’t a part of their team-effort secret plan.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” Yael muttered.

He didn’t sound alarmed, but the other Abcurses had gone quiet, their attention on the sands.

“What wasn’t supposed to happen?” I asked. “And actually … what was supposed to happen? You can tell me what’s going on. I’m great with secrets. I once didn’t tell Emmy that her dress was tucked into the back of her underwear for a whole sun-cycle. Okay—to be honest, I never told her. Mostly because I didn’t realise she wasn’t doing it on purpose. I thought it was a new fashion statement, the first one from Emmy that seemed fun in any way. Long story short, she got sent home from school with a warning for exposing herself.”

I could feel the heat of four sets of eyes focussing on me, all giving me that look that I was growing used to by now. That here we go again look. I ignored them all to finish my story, because I wasn’t going to let them intimidate me out of it just yet.

“My mother was the one in charge of punishing Emmy, and she—” I squinted at the form walking into the middle of the arena, toward Aros.

“She what?” Coen prodded, almost begrudgingly.

I squinted harder, even though I could see perfectly fine. I just … couldn’t actually believe what I was seeing. My eyes darted over the wild mess of blonde hair, and the familiar, stumbling walk. I couldn’t see the woman’s face … but I didn’t need to.

“Your mother what?” Siret demanded.

“My mother is about to battle a god of Seduction,” I found myself saying, my own tone sounding completely dull and emotionless. “She’s about to battle my god of Seduction. In a fight. With powers. Here. Now. She’s here. Now. In the arena. About to battle—”

“Fuck,” Yael cursed. “Someone grab her before she—”

I had no idea who he was talking about, because I was already slipping away from them. I intend to beat them to the arena. I intend to beat them to the arena. I intend to beat them to the—

“Gods-dammit, Willa!” Siret shouted from behind me. “That’s not how it works!”

I pumped my legs harder and gritted my teeth, focussing with everything I had, until the sunlight broke out across my forehead and the surface beneath my boots gave way to sand.

I spun immediately, holding both of my hands up to the four gods appearing directly before me, murder in their eyes.

“One more step and I’ll take my clothes off!” I warned them. “I’ll get naked and use it to cause Chaos everywhere and then I’ll steal my mother and … and kick Three in the ball—”

“We’ll stay,” Coen cut across me. “Go and fetch your mother. It’s clearly what they want, otherwise they would have never brought her out here.”

I nodded at him, and cast a quick glance to the others, just to make sure they weren’t going to fight me on the decision, before I spun and ran toward the vision from my not-so-distant past. Aros was staring from me, to my mother, and back again. Maybe he could see the resemblance, or maybe he was just reading the look of panic on my face. She had stopped moving toward him, but she wasn’t turning—she was focussed. I skidded to a stop right behind her, and reached out hesitantly. I was a little put-off at how still she had become, and the feeling only increased as she turned and I met her eyes. I could feel my stomach sinking, a heavy dread settling there, mixed with disbelief and hysteria. It edged up, working its way through my body.

“Mum?” I squeaked out, the word catching on a sob.

“That is not my name,” she replied, her voice formal and metallic-sounding. “I am called Donald.”

“Mum?” I screeched, much louder this time.

“My observation is that this Sacred One is broken,” she announced, turning to Aros and pointing at me. “Should I call for a healer?”

Aros was at my side in a blink, his arms winding around me from behind, tucking me in against his chest. I wasn’t sure whether he was restraining me or comforting me. I was too busy trying to process what was standing in front of me, and what it meant. The announcer was speaking again, but the buzzing of panic was too loud in my ears to make out what the voice was saying. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a door opening at the base of the arena, beneath the god-box, and several bodies moving through onto the sands.

“Willa …” Aros was whispering my name, his arms tightening around me.

I still couldn’t focus properly. The woman before me wavered, and I could feel a tingling at the base of my skull, a darkness creeping into the edges of my vision.

No! I couldn’t let the Chaos take over right now. I wrangled with my focus, trying to direct it back to my mother, but the swarm of bodies spilling into the arena was growing larger with every passing moment, until I was forced to turn and confront the scene. Tears were spilling into my vision but I swiped them away, and suddenly the bodies weren’t just bodies, but servers. And they weren’t just swarming, they were charging. Most of them were armed with weapons: not the rudimentary kind that you would expect them to have, but the fancy, ornate kind that you would expect the gods to have.

I stumbled back a step and grabbed onto the arm of my mother—Donald—the server. She glanced to my hand on her arm, as though surprised, but then seemed to forget about me as the other Abcurses appeared, slowly forming a shield around us.

“You need to get out of here!” Coen yelled over his shoulder. “The gods want to punish us, and they’ve finally figured out how. You need to leave—” He paused to wrestle an axe from the hands of a server that had tried to swing in the general direction of his torso. He threw the axe aside, raised his fist, and brought it crashing down on the server’s head. I watched as the poor man dropped immediately to the ground, and then as Coen took down another four of them.

“You need to leave because these servers aren’t going to stop.” Yael was shouting this time, throwing aside a spear. “They’ll attack all the sols and dwellers at Blesswood until they can get to you. We can’t protect everyone here unless you’re already safe.”

I considered arguing, but they were right about one thing. The others needed protection, and that included my mother and Emmy.

“I’ll get carriages and pull them up outside the arena!” I grabbed my mother’s arm and pulled her toward the entrance of the arena, almost surprised to see that the path was clear ahead of me. The gods had thought that I would stay and fight … and they were partly right. I had every intention of coming back and fighting, but I needed to take care of Emmy first.

“You need to obey me, right?” I asked my mother, pulling her up to the first row of seats at the very back of the arena.

All of the students were staring, almost climbing over each other to see into the arena, but some had taken their attention away to watch my progress.

“Yes, Sacred One. Of course. Anything you des—”

“Good.” I pointed at the stand before us. “I need you to help evacuate all these people.”

“Where should I evacuate them to, Sacred One?”

“Back to their dorm rooms.”

She nodded, and then began to walk off, shouting out orders to evacuate. I watched her for a click; I was frozen, unable to continue in my task. She was shouting, but her voice was still cold and ineffectual. It didn’t sound like my mother’s. And my mother certainly wouldn’t have been able to follow such a simple task without falling over herself or being bribed to do it in the first place.

It’s still her, a voice tried to whisper in the back of my mind. You can’t think away the reality. That’s your mother. They’ve done something to her. She’s a server now. That means … that means … she must have …

“Everyone needs to evacuate!” I yelled, as loudly as I could. I needed to drown out the voice of reason in my head. “Evacuate back to your dorm rooms! It’s for your own safety! Everyone please evacuate!”

Only a few of the sols followed my order, but once people began to move from the stands, more followed their lead, and soon everyone was standing and shuffling toward the exits. After a few clicks, they started running, a panicked rush of noise swelling around me. I could see some of the servers climbing the walls on the other side of the arena, knives between their teeth as though they were specially-designed assassins sneaking into a building full of tokens. I had no idea what a group of servers would do with a building full of tokens, though. They would probably just end up cleaning them all and then stacking them neatly, before sneaking right back out the way they had come.

I turned to the barrier behind me and placed my hands against it, leaning over a little to see the wall beneath. Sure enough, the servers had started to swarm there as well. They still looked so cold, so inhuman, but there was something frightening about them now. A being created for the sole purpose of blindly following the orders of the narcissistic gods really shouldn’t have been allowed to handle knives. There were two right beneath me: one of them had a wicked-looking spear that he poked up in my direction, while the other had what used to be a spear, but was now a broken-off, wooden staff. She must have lost the pointy end in the fighting down below.

I swiped out haphazardly for the spear that was still intact, but one of the sols behind me knocked into my back, sending me further over the barrier than I had intended to lean, and I was so busy scrambling for balance that I simply grabbed onto the only thing my fingers could reach, and yanked it back up over the barrier with me. There was a little resistance at first—the server was having enough trouble as it was trying to climb the wall—but they eventually gave up their war with the spear and I jumped back from the barrier. I spun around, turned the spear in my hands, and aimed the pointy end at the hand that had just slapped against the surface of the barrier. A face soon followed: female, expressionless, bald.

“You have taken my designated Order Stick,” she told me.

“Your Order-what-now?” I replied, glancing down at the tip of the spear. It was the broken one. Of course it was a broken one. It looked like a splintered broom-handle.

The server pulled her torso over the barrier, and then swung herself up, swinging her legs around and dropping to her feet in front of me.

“Order,” she said, making a stabbing motion as though she still held the spear. “Order. Order. Order. It is an Order Stick.”

“Ohh …” I drew out the word, trying to tell myself that I wasn’t stalling.

I really didn’t want to hurt any of the servers, even though it looked like the Abcurses were taking them down by the dozen in the arena. It wasn’t the servers’ fault. The gods were using them to punish … us? The Abcurses? Me? Every gods-dammed being in Blesswood?

“What do you call those?” I asked, using my broken spear to point at the axe that had just appeared over the top of the barrier, a server’s hand gripping it as he lifted himself up.

“Those are the Silencing Sticks, Sacred One.”

And then I realised that she wasn’t trying to attack me just as much as I wasn’t trying to attack her. I watched in confusion as the server with the axe cleared the barrier, looked right at me, and then jumped up over the first row of seats without so much as pausing. Two more armed servers cleared the barrier, and still nobody attacked me. I watched the man with the spear land next to the female server whose weapon I had stolen, and I wondered if we had somehow gotten all of this wrong. Maybe this wasn’t what it looked like. Maybe they weren’t trying to hurt us. Maybe they were trying to escape—

“Oh my gods!” I yelled, as the man with the spear reached around me, stabbing one of the sols running past right through the shoulder. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Order,” the woman-server reminded me, making another imaginary stabbing motion.

“Stop!” I made a grab for the man’s spear, surprised when he easily released it to me. “No more order! Stop it!”

The sol was clutching his shoulder, trying to stem the bleeding while he stumbled away from us as quickly as he could move. He wasn’t going to fight the servers. Maybe there were too many of them, or maybe the look of utter horror in his eyes was because he thought the gods were angry at him, too. Hell, maybe the gods were angry at him. I had no idea what was happening. I only knew that the servers apparently weren’t attacking me—just everyone else.

“We need you to come with us now, Sacred One.” The woman-server reached for me, but I scooted back quickly, stumbling over the seat behind me before jumping up and over into the next row.

“Ah, sorry, Order Lady. I can’t right now. I need to do some things. Maybe later, okay?”

“The Creator has requested you be brought to him,” she insisted, her voice rising in some semblance of panic. It was a little off, though, as if she didn’t actually feel the panic that she displayed.

“The Creator can just … like … create another time for us to meet then.” I waved at the server and then took off, following the wave of sols to the edge of the arena seating.

The server that used to be my mother was standing outside the entrance to the arena, calmly instructing people to evacuate, even though they rushed past her—clearly already intent on evacuating the hell out of there. I grabbed her arm as I ran past, and pulled her after me.

It was time for a little family reunion.