Chapter 38

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The song for today is "Sisters and Brothers" by Sidewalk Prophets. Can we just take a moment and admire their cd cover? I can't stop thinking how good a picture that would be for Andor. What do y'all think?

*Waglington's POV*

"No fair! I don't have my bow!" Tom had just scored himself the winning kill with his bow. Wait one moment! That's my bow! "How did you get my Llama Drama?! Give it back!" He'd just used my own bow against me. That was not okay. I used the little manna I'd regenerated to fire my disarming and blindness spell (appropriately named I H8 U) at Tom while he laughed at me. The spell caused him to drop my bow, and I retrieved it, carefully checking it over for damage.

"Haha. I'm sorry, Swaglington. Did I forget to give you back your golden bag of holding with all your swagilicious loot?" he taunted, holding up my bag—though in the wrong direction. He would be blind for another minute or two. I snatched the bag from him and quickly scanned the items inside. It looked like everything was there, except my arrows.

"Arrows, Tom," I demanded.

"Fine, fine. Here you go, you spoon," He said while handing over the quiver full of handcrafted broadheads. (Broadheads are a type of arrow head made of razor sharp metal used for hunting, not the rounded plastic practice tips people are used to seeing.) "Now about my hair..."

Tom paused as we heard the sound of someone else teleporting into the arena. Tom was still blind; so he couldn't see who it was. I could. My hand started shaking a little, and I tightened my grip on my bow to hide the tremor. I swallowed before calling a greeting, "Hello, Martha." I tried to sound like my usual bright self and attempted a grin that came out as more of a grimace. Tom muttered a quiet curse and started rubbing at his eyes as if that might help his blindness wear off quicker. Memento uttered a low growl and lashed his tail against the dark taupe brick of the ledge he was sprawled across.

At the other end of the arena stood Martha the goddess, formerly Martha the Mystic. The lava light showing through the teal edged glass of the floor cast her features in an orange shade that strangely complimented them. I caught myself admiring her as I had many times before and forced myself to focus, remembering that she was no longer mine (if she ever had been in the first place).

Martha watched me for a while as if something were out of place before she spoke. "It is good to see you up and moving around, Waggles," She said with a sweet grin.

Why was there a hint of sadness in her voice? Maybe I was just projecting my own miserable feelings onto her and imagining it. Oh right, Steve is still missing and hurt. That's probably what she's upset about. I felt another stab at the thought. How many times could a heart feel that pain before it started to dull? Whatever the number was, it wasn't low enough for my taste. I have to be strong for her, just until she has Steve to comfort her again. Then I'm allowed to break down, I told myself, trying to shut my emotions down. "I'll find Steve, Martha. Don't worry. As soon as Donella gives me clearance, I'll go, and I won't stop until I bring him home," I said with as much confidence as I could muster, looking at a cracked brick in the wall behind her rather than her.

Her face fell even more at my words. "Wag, that's not what..."

She was interrupted by Tucker speaking far too loudly as he teleported into the arena as well, "Wag! There you are! Come with me right now; it's an emergency." He motioned me to follow him and winked at me through the visor of his red helmet.

What?

"Oh, this sounds serious. You better get going, Wag. Sorry, Martha; his people need him," Tom said from behind me before starting to push me towards the exit. Apparently he could see again.

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