“You mean kidnap him,” Coen stated dryly. He was actually smiling. He seemed to be the only one who approved of my solution.
My own smile flashed in response. “I’m really just returning the favour. Bastard kidnapped me first, now he can know what it feels like.”
Seventeen
As we tried to decide what to do, I found my mind drifting back to the wraiths in the cave. Siret had already explained that we wouldn’t be able to break into Minatsol through the banishment cave the same way we had the last time. Apparently it had been the cup doing all the protecting on that sun-cycle, so there was no way that the wraiths would let us leave without it. Especially not after I just promised to help them … a promise that I wasn’t going to be able to keep. They probably wouldn’t be impressed if I ventured back through with a super-important, unconscious-and-possibly-kidnapped god, and asked them to let us escape. Maybe it would have worked if I had knocked out Staviti instead of Cyrus—Staviti himself had to be better than the cup that had allowed us to pass last time, but hitting the Original Creator over the head with a rock was probably something that would come with its own set of problems. Bigger problems.
“We need to get them both somewhere safe,” Coen announced. “Somewhere the other gods won’t find us while we figure out how to break the link with Cyrus and bring her back to us.”
“What about his cave home?” I asked, pointing to the unconscious god now currently propped up between Rome and Coen.
“You remember how to get back there?” Yael shot me a sharp look. At first I thought he was looking pissed because he didn’t trust my memory, or my plan, but then I noticed the rest of them making the same annoyed faces and I realised they didn’t like the fact that Cyrus had taken me to his hideout.
“I could try …” I hedged. “But we’re going to need to go back to the cave.”
Yael’s expression lightened. “Tell the servers we need to put Cyrus back in his cave before we can help them … and let’s hope there’s another exit … otherwise we won’t be able to leave again.”
“There has to be another exit,” Aros added. “He didn’t come from the same direction as Willa.”
He wouldn’t have even fit through the tiny little rock opening I had used: it was like a pet door or something. There was definitely another exit.
We walked back into the cave with me taking the lead so that the servers would recognise me. Rome and Coen were carrying Cyrus at the back of our group and while I couldn’t see the creepy server-wraiths, I could still feel them around us in the darkness. They were hovering. Waiting. Waiting to see what we would do. I assumed it was pacifying them that I had returned with a group of powerful gods, just as I had promised them. I also assumed that if we kept going—if we moved straight past the secret back entrance to Cyrus’s hideout—and attempted to pass into Minatsol, they would no longer be so passive.
My theory proved to be correct, and no one bothered us as we reached the wall, which I thankfully recognised. It wasn’t until I was standing there that I realised I should have actually said something to them about the gap being so small.
“None of you are going to fit!” I gasped out. “The opening is barely big enough for me.”
Rome handed Cyrus across to Coen and felt around near where I was pointing. I was a bit off—by about six feet—but we eventually found the invisible little opening.
“I don’t think Cyrus left this here deliberately.” Rome sounded surprised, his hands halfway through the wall. “It feels like a weakness in his spelling. It’s been awhile since he reinforced his wards, and it’s already showing.”
Yael and Aros leaned down on either side of him, both of them reaching out to trace the edge of the gap. “You’re right,” Aros agreed. “It’s crumbling away … which means we should be able to chip enough out so we can all crawl through.”
Before I could say anything, hands were gripping my waist and I was being yanked into Aros. “In you go, sweetheart. You can fit already, and it will be safer for you on that side.”
“What if the wraiths attack?” I hated the thought of them disappearing on me again. Or me disappearing on them. Or whatever was about to happen.
The guys exchanged a glance.
“Don’t worry about us,” Yael answered. “We can take care of ourselves.”
“We’ll work fast,” Coen promised me.
Aros placed me right in front of the barrier and I had no resistance this time as I crawled through. Whatever they were doing was interrupting the barrier. It also didn’t feel like quite as snug a fit, so they might have had a point about widening it. Once I was on the other side, I scooted off to the right so that I wouldn’t be in the way when the others came through. A few trickles of dirt and rock cascaded across my feet. My poor cut up and abused feet—I would never complain about shoes again.
A cracking sound had me jumping and scuttling back a little more, my eyes locked on the wall. More rocks and debris fell; dust had me coughing and spluttering as my heart rate increased. I was just about to jump up and run for it when a very golden and familiar head of hair appeared.
“Aros!” My cry sounded far too relieved for someone who had only been sitting alone for less than a click, and in no real danger.
I hurried across to where he was wiggling through, his broad shoulder partly wedged in the opening. “Doesn’t this wall know that you’re a god?” I joked, trying to help by grabbing on to the top of his shirt and twisting him through. Of course, I mostly ended up gripping him around the neck and almost choking him.
It’s the thought that counts, I mentally reminded myself.
Aros let out a bit of a growl, and a white light burst from him for a brief moment, which blinded me. By the time I could see again he was through, a tonne of rock and dirt piling up around him. He was already standing, before he strode across to me and scooped me up. I thought it was a hug, at first, until I realised he was moving me away.
“Wait here, I don’t want any of the stones to hit you,” he said quickly, before returning to the wall.
Cyrus was being sent through now—Aros helped guide the god, before lifting him up and dumping him at my feet.
“None of us would have gotten the drop on him like that,” Aros chuckled, shaking his head as he stared down at the prone form. “We’ve never gone up against Cyrus—never tested it. We all treat him with a certain level of respect and caution. He’s the sort of monster they scare kids with in your world. The one who punishes the gods.”