Page 264 of Psycho Gods

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Page 264 of Psycho Gods

“What do we do if they attack?” Sadie asked, voice quivering.

Determination flooded through Aran. “Then we fight, and we try our best to maim but not kill.” Her voice was barely audible, and her words were clipped like it hurt to speak them aloud. “We keep them all alive.”

“That will be difficult with your sword.” Sadie nodded to the weapon in Aran’s hand.

Aran nodded, unease chipping away at her determination. “We’ll try our best. If we have to fight the ungodly, then we will. You will not die here.”

Sadie smiled sadly.

Aran’s unease became outright horror.

They both jolted as an infected woman standing a few feet away screamed something at them. It sounded like a swear word, but her accent made it impossible to decipher.

Aran slowly raised her sword higher.

“Where do you think we are?” Sadie asked as she grabbed Aran’s hand and squeezed. “It feels familiar somehow.”

Aran looked up at the high ceilings, then her eyes lingered on the portrait-covered walls.

In the strategy room, I held my breath as I waited. “Please say the location aloud. Please say it aloud. Please say it aloud,” I sent down our connection fervently.

Sun god bless Sadie and her ridiculous need to ask questions.

This was it.

My only hope.

I could feel Aran’s brain processing patterns and connections at a familiar lightning speed. For all her faults, Aran wasn’t an idiot. She had more brains than the rest of the other champions combined.

Now it was their only hope.

Sweat dripped down the side of my face, and my chest pounded so hard against my sternum that I felt lightheaded.

Aran whispered, “The floor sounded hollow. The heat. The portraits.”

“What?” Sadie asked with confusion.

“We’re in the basement of where we first battled,” Aran said with horror as she wiped at her brow.

Feet shuffled, and there was an ominous rustle as infected brandished their enchanted swords. The dimly lit room glowed blue.

“They’re moving closer.” Sadie’s hand trembled in Aran’s grip.

Aran squeezed her hand. “I’ll try to fly.” She went to pull her hand away, but Sadie wouldn’t release her.

“No.” Sadie’s voice was uncharacteristically serious. “We both know you can’t fly. Don’t waste your energy.”

Frustration welled up inside Aran, and she bit down on her pipe, jaw grinding with frustration.

“I might not be able to shift”—Sadie’s voice darkened—“but I’m not useless.” Her eyes glowed bright as she grabbed the shaft of Aran’s enchanted sword with her bare hand.

An infected screamed and threw itself at them, the crowd charging as one.

Sadie pushed Aran behind her with surprising strength as she flung her blood at the faces of the charging infected. Blood dripped into their open mouths and eyes.

“Defend us!” Sadie roared.

The three closest infected turned with their swords drawn, and they clashed with the charging crowd.




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