Storm Gods - G. Bailey Page 0,51
pay for this. For everything.”
“Good,” is all Emerald says. Finally pulling away from Ruby, she kneels down to look her in the eyes. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, mum,” Ruby replies.
Glancing up at me and Storm, Emerald says, “I don’t have much inside, but you’re welcome to—”
“No need,” I say, holding up a hand. “We have to get going. It’s risky enough being away from home as it is.”
“Thank you for everything, Karma,” Ruby says, turning to me.
I lean down to pull her into a hug. “You’re welcome,” I reply. “Let’s stay in touch, yeah?”
“Absolutely,” Ruby says, the relief in her voice obvious.
The goodbyes are short and sweet, which seems appropriate. They need time together, and Kit needs to be examined. I can’t help but tear up a little at having to leave Ruby, and as Storm and I walk away from the apartment, I wonder if I really will ever see her again.
Chapter 17
I stare down at the sleeping goblin, overcome with worry, but I seem to have run out of tears over the past few days. I’ve placed Kit in a shoebox, along with a decent amount of bedding, and although he’s still breathing, he remains comatose. I’ve done everything I can think of to wake him up, consulting everyone in the house as I try to figure out what’s wrong with him, but nothing is working. If times were normal, we could track down someone specialising in supernatural ailments, but just bringing Ruby back was a big risk, and besides, we don’t have time. Tomorrow is the day that, for better or worse, we’re going to London to face off against the higher gods. I’ve known it was coming, obviously, but that doesn’t make the reality of it any more bearable, especially when our method of transportation is down for the count. Storm did an admirable job bringing us back from Emerald’s place, but arriving in London via tornado isn’t the best way of keeping a low profile. Still, what choice do we have?
The idea that Kit might have overexerted himself at my command fills me with guilt, and I don’t know what I’m going to do if he doesn’t pull through. I don’t think I can handle having any more blood on my hands. It’s just too painful.
Letting out a long breath, I give the goblin a gentle nudge, but he doesn’t stir. The shallow movements of his chest are the only thing proving that he’s even still alive. I took the liberty of leaving some food upstairs with him in case he wakes up, but I’m losing confidence. Whatever optimism I once had has gone by the wayside over the past few weeks, and when I look at myself in the mirror, I hardly even recognise the person looking back at me.
And it all comes down to Neritous.
I can feel my nails digging into my palms as I clench my hands into fists, staring down at Kit glumly while he continues to sleep. There’s nothing for it now, though; it’s out of my hands at this point. Gently, I set the box down on the floor beside my bed, so that if he comes to, he’ll have easy access to his hidey hole. Just straightening back up leaves me feeling immensely tired, like an old woman. How ironic, I think bitterly. Immortal, but this whole thing has still managed to age me. I can hear the others downstairs, strategizing, and I know I should join them. What allies Seth still has will be pouring into the city right now, and Neritous isn’t going to let them slip past his defences. I’m not under any illusions that there won’t be a battle, and the prospect of losing people is looking less and less like a possibility and more and more like an inevitability. It hurts, but there’s no way around it: we have to end this, one way or another.
I’m overcome by a sudden wave of exhaustion, and I drop heavily to a seat on my bed, bowing my head to rest in my hands and closing my eyes for a long moment. I’m so caught up in my own thoughts that I barely even register the sound of footsteps in the hallway, and when there’s a knock at the door, it makes me jump. “Come in,” I say, forcing myself to sound peppier than I feel.
The door opens slowly, revealing mum’s face. Her expression is stoic and unreadable, but it’s a relief to see