Gus's only hope was remembering the priest Miurian at my side. But he also remembered the soldiers surrounding us and tried not to think of how impossible it would be for a skinny priest and a broken Lilly to escape the clutches of an army. After all I had experienced, Gus wouldn't put it past God to simply sweep his little sister back up into his arms. It would be a miracle if He didn't.
And Gus had already gotten his miracle in surviving. He couldn't expect anything more. Though why God had bothered keeping a wart like Gus alive, Gus didn't know.
Even so, Gus kept living. He ate, only because he couldn't help but see a ghost of me squawking about mama nerves flailing because my baby won't eat. He moved only because he thought he could feel my hands on his cheeks, demanding he keep back the 'knobbly frown.' He picked up a sword again only because I insisted he earn his keep and help Roman who had helped him.