“Petty theft?” she says almost mockingly.
“Indeed, love. Petty. Theft,” I answer, pointing a finger at her to accentuate my two last words.
She seems to be stumbling over more than one question at once.
I don’t bother waiting for her to land on one and continue, “I wouldsurmisethat although a mortal family is banishedfrom the city, their subconscious need to please their god never ceases. As long as the god collects its tithe”—I stub the joint in the ashtray next to me—“well, the divine law does not displease them.”
I lean back into the couch and clasp my hands over my naked stomach while dropping my head backward. I gaze up at the stars, a blanket of cosmic orbs shimmering just for us, as I listen to Veil’s nervous breathing.
“It’s — it’s all too much,” she says weakly.
I almost startle when my heart skips with a small jolt of empathy for Veil.
My poor little lost doll.
“Tell me, Veil Vulturine,” I muse, my eyes still cast skyward, “why did you come here?”
“Here, as in Pravitia?”
“Here, as in Pravitia,” I repeat.
It takes her much longer to answer than expected, and I peek a glance her way. She appears to be deep in thought, almost like she’s connecting the dots herself.
“What is it?” I ask.
Her gaze finds mine, rosy lips parting on an answer, but then she closes her mouth, as if changing her mind.
“Lesson number two, pet,” I say with a bored lilt. “Our powers do not work on each other. It’s how I first suspected you might be one of us. Although …” I say, suddenly sidetracked. I peer at her with a cant of the head, brows furrowing. “You seem to be the exception to the rule.”
“How so?” she squeaks.
I fall silent, recalling the incident earlier at Pandaemonium. The one that led me to finally bring her before the Oracle.
I dismiss her question with a small flick of my fingers. There’s so much we haven’t discussed yet, but it can wait. “That’s for another day.As I was saying…” I declare somewhattheatrically, trying to get back to my initial thought. I pin her with my stare, but keep my body relaxed against the couch. “I might not be able to smell the lies and secrets on you, doll. Butdo notunderestimate me. I have a plethora of ways to make you speak. Care to discover one of them?” I ask casually, flashing her an arrogant grin.
Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head.
Good. She still fears me.
“I’m not trying to hide anything from you. I just … I don’t know how to explain any of it.” She crosses her arms and sighs. “To answer your question”—I don’t miss her petulant tone, and I resist the urge to laugh—“I was … I was called here. I don’t know how else to say it. And then after the Feast of Fools”—her voice gets quieter, and she starts to wring her hands together—“I — I tried to leave.” Her eyes turn glassy, as if trying not to cry. “But couldn’t — Iphysicallycouldn’t leave.”
I stare at her while digesting what she just said, a heavy silence rumbling between us.
Then I burst out laughing.
Veil reacts similarly to my earlier outburst. “Nothing about this is funny,” she bites out through clenched teeth and a tense jaw.
I jump up to my feet and offer her my hand. “Oh, but it is, love. But it is. And as soon as you accept that we are mere pawns for the gods to play with, I assure you, Veil Vulturine, you’ll find the humor in it too.”
17
VEIL
Istare at Gemini’s proffered hand, his words humming in my head like some kind of eerie prophecy.
“We are mere pawns for the gods to play with.”
The unsettling feeling skitters down my spine and burrows itself deep into the pit of my stomach. So much has been left unsaid, and I fear I will suffocate under the sheer weight of it all.
