Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 144277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 721(@200wpm)___ 577(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 721(@200wpm)___ 577(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
The ugly god smiles at me. His eyes filled with madness. “Good question. Where is Tyse. Why don’t you tell me?”
“What are you talking about?”
He breathes in. Holds it. Lets that breath out. His eyes bore into mine. A challenge. “Did he… help you?”
“Help me?” I laugh. “Does it look like I got help? I’m strapped to a fucking wall!”
Epsilon’s brow furrows, considering this. “Yeah, it’s weird. But… you’re… alive.”
“OK? So?”
“I… drained you. To thread Tyse. And he took it all. He’s a greedy fucker when it comes to spark.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about. He doesn’t even crave spark.” But the moment these words come out, I’m questioning them. Because he did live in the tower.
He is addicted to it.
Epsilon must be reading my mind because he smiles. “Yeah, Clara, he does. He’s an augment. He lives on it, just like me. I breed them. You. Others like you. And yet, not like you at all. Tau City… who knew that place could produce something like… this.” His hand gestures to my body.
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
“Of course not. You grew up in an isolated world. You were fed lies your whole life. Which is how it is for all women in the factory dimension, but it was different for you. Because Tau, the actual god of your factory, was killed hundreds of years ago.”
I know this because Tyse told me. But his death is all I know about him. So despite myself, I’m intensely curious about what happened to my god. Against my better judgment, I urge him on. “What do you know about the god in my tower?”
Epsilon shrugs. “He was kind of a dick. No one liked him. Reminds me of Delta, actually. We were raised together, obviously.”
“Wait.” I shake my head. “What? You were raised together?”
“Of course. We were the originals. There were twenty-four of us in the beginning.” His voice changes, booming. “In the first days, the Gods were but sand, scattered and formless, until the furnace shaped them into glass. And the glass was struck by fire, and the fire became light, and the light became Spark, and the Spark was the breath of creation, burning eternal in the heart of all things.”
Epsilon shrugs. Like his fervent outburst was nothing special. “Except, it wasn’t all things, was it. The spark doesn’t burn in the hearts of all. Just us. And only us. The gods.”
The heart. If I could look down, I would. To see the shard. To see if it’s there. Thank my dead god I can’t move. Because this one here is very perceptive. He would’ve noticed. And maybe it wouldn’t be obvious, but this slip-up would’ve made him curious and that would be the end of my secret.
I need to change the subject. “I’d never heard that before. What were those words you just said? Did they come from some kind of book?”
His laugh is immediate. “Something like that. Listen, I understand your curiosity. And I’ll answer your questions if you answer mine. Deal?”
“It depends. What do you want to know?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he starts pacing. Which makes me nervous because he’s not staying directly in front of me and I can’t turn my head to follow his movements. After almost a minute of this, he stops, barely on the edge of my peripheral vision. “How did you recover?”
“Recover from… what you did to me? When you slammed that cage into my body?” I jut my chin, as best I can, at the cage. Which is directly across from me, on the opposite wall. “Thousands of needles—”
“Yes, yes, yes,” he cuts me off, waving a hand in the air. “Blah, blah, blah. I did this, I did that.” Now he’s right in front of me. Right in front of my face. Eyes blazing. “How?” He demands this answer now. “How did you survive? You should be dead. I gave him every drop of your spark. You were a husk.”
I snicker. “Have you ever heard that saying… you catch more flies with honey?”
“Tell me!” This time he roars it. And these words come out in a booming, godly shout that shakes the walls and make my whole body vibrate.
Every part of my body… shrinks. Or… tightens.
Fear.
I swallow, blinking. “I don’t know.” And my voice is as small as his was large.
He’s still in front of me—leaning in and down so he’s eye level. His eyes search mine, looking for the lie. But it’s not a lie, and he knows this. So he lets out a breath and takes a step back.
“My turn,” I say, forcing myself to be brave. “Tell me the story of the Tau god.”
Epsilon scoffs. “That’s not a question, that’s a book.”
“Is it a book I’m allowed to read?”
He’s standing in profile now. So I get a side-eyed glare for this question. “Someone helped you.”