CHAPTER SEVEN
Ash tensed. “I don’t feel anything—” His head whipped toward the doors. “You felt them before I did.” He faced me, a faint grin on his face. “Your senses are progressing fast.”
A noise came no more than a heartbeat after he spoke. It was light, barely audible. The sound of scratching. My gaze darted to the doors.
“We have visitors.” Dipping his head, Ash kissed my forehead. “Welcome ones.”
I tipped forward as Ash rose. He took one last drink of wine and then moved the table back a few feet with a wave of his hand. Scooting to the edge of the couch, I tried to see around him as he cracked open the door. A new smell wafted into the chambers—a wild, earthy aroma mixed with something sweet.
I knew that scent, even though I’d never noticed it before. It belonged to the draken , as did the sense of awareness. I stood.
“Sorry.” The far-too-serious voice for one so young confirmed what I felt. “Nek is doing patrols. I’ve been trying to distract her, but she got away from me.”
Before either Ash or I could respond, a small, greenish-brown blur of scales and thin, leathery wings darted around Ash’s legs. The small draken launched herself a good four or five feet into the air—
Panic exploded. She was only four years old and unable to fly. Not that it stopped Nektas’s daughter from trying. Repeatedly. I shot forward, catching her around the waist just as she started to plummet back to the hard stone floor. One wing whipped around, catching me in the side of the face. The slap stung, but how she clung to me made up for it. Her embrace was strong and at odds with her slight weight, but gods, it was one of the best hugs I’d ever received.
“Jadis.” I laughed, jerking my head back from her flailing wings.
“I think someone missed you,” Ash remarked, his voice warm.
Jadis gave a muffled chirp as she grasped onto my hair with her tiny, clawed fists. The tug sent a fiery wave of tingles across my scalp, but I honestly didn’t care as I held on to her. She wasn’t trying to hurt me. Plus, Nektas had said that my hair likely reminded Jadis of her mother. She’d only been two when Halayna was killed. Not nearly old enough to build a wealth of memories to look back on when she missed her momma. I held her tighter.
“And I also think this one may not have tried all that hard to stop her,” Ash added, his arms folded over his chest as he looked down at Reaver.
The shaggy-blond-haired draken’s cheeks pinked as he stared at the floor. He wore loose pants and a sleeveless tunic the color of cream. At the moment, Reaver looked like any mortal child, except for the vertical pupils and the somber seriousness of the old soul he carried.
Life had not been easy for either of them.
While Jadis had lost one parent to Kolis, Reaver had lost both of his before he was even old enough to hold on to his mortal form. They’d died defending the Shadowlands after Kolis grew angry with Ash for not responding to his summons quickly enough. Did Reaver have any memories of his parents? If not, I knew what kind of aching emptiness that left behind. I had none of my father.
I drew my hand down Jadis’s back, her scales dry and smooth against my palm. I couldn’t help but think of how they continued to experience loss. Ector. Davina. Orphine . Both she and Reaver had likely been close to them. Perhaps even thought of them as family. A wealth of emotion swelled in my chest. They had already suffered far too much senseless cruelty and loss.
I glanced at Ash, finding him watching me with a gentle look. Figuring I’d been projecting again, I cleared my throat. “Hi, Reaver.”
“Hello.” He dragged a bare foot across the stone floor in front of him. “How are you feeling, meyaah Liessa ?”
“You don’t have to call me that. I’m Sera to you.” I patted Jadis’s back as she wiggled as wildly as tree bears were rumored to do. “And I feel fine.”
“I told Jadis that she’d be able to see you in the morning.” His fingers were curled around the hem of his tunic so tightly that his knuckles had bleached white. “We felt you when you woke up. Nek told us to give you guys some time, but Jadis has been scared. She didn’t know where you went,” he said, his voice carrying hints of frustration and fear. “No one would tell us where either of you went or let us see you when you returned.”
I lowered my chin to the top of Jadis’s head, my heart aching at the fine tremor in Reaver’s voice. “They didn’t want you to worry.”
“But we did worry.” Reaver’s head lifted then, his cheeks even redder, and his eyes, now as blue as Jadis’s, glistening. “And even though no one would say it, I know it was him .” His hands balled into fists as he looked up at Ash. “I know he took her, and then he took you.”
Jadis squirmed, twisting her long, slender neck toward Reaver.
“And we didn’t know if we would ever see either of you again.” Reaver’s voice trembled and cracked. “If you’d leave us like—” He cut himself off, his pointy chin jutting out as he clamped his jaw shut.
“We’re not leaving you.” Ash crouched before him so they were as close to eye level as possible. “Hear me? We will never leave you.”
Reaver gave a quick, jerky nod while Jadis planted her hands on my shoulders and pushed. She squawked—
My head whipped toward hers in surprise. She had made a sound that was nothing like any language I’d ever heard, but I swore I understood her clearly. She’d said, “ down ” in that sweet, high-pitched voice of hers.
I stared at her. There was no way I’d heard that. Ash had said it took him days to understand the draken .
“Sera and I are okay,” Ash said to Reaver. “You feel that, right?” He pressed his palm against Reaver, the width of his hand nearly that of the draken’s chest. “You can feel her right there.”
Reaver nodded.
I straightened, still holding on to Jadis. The draken wasn’t a fan of me holding her the way I was. Straining, she pushed harder against my shoulders.
“She’s not going to leave you,” Ash told him, keeping his voice low. “Neither will I.”
Reaver’s head jerked up and down, but that red flush now stained his throat, and his entire body trembled. He folded his arms tightly across his chest and hunched his shoulders.
Clasping the back of Reaver’s neck, Ash tilted his head. “I hate that either of you had to go through that. You shouldn’t have had to, but it’s okay to be upset. Understand? You can be angry, and you can be sad. You can even be afraid. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Sorrow filled me as Reaver’s face crumpled. He could be angry, sad, and scared, but damn it, he shouldn’t have to be any of those things.
Without saying a word, Ash gathered the young draken into his arms, lifting Reaver as he rose. A muffled, hoarse sob came from the child as Ash turned so Reaver remained hidden by his frame. Cradling the back of Reaver’s head, Ash spoke quietly as the youngling clung to his shoulders, the knuckles of his small hands bleached white from how tightly he held on.
Gods. Ash was…he was so damn good with Reaver.
Sensing that Reaver likely wanted some time to himself, I turned the wiggling Jadis to the table. I swallowed the knot in my throat and decided to go with the only thing I felt would distract her. “Jadis, baby? Would you like a strawberry?”
Jadis’s attention was still on Reaver, but her fully extended arms ceased their relentless pressure.
Tears filled my eyes as I smiled. “They’re very sweet and tasty.” I went around the table and sat on the couch. “I think you’ll like them.”
Jadis pulled her diamond-shaped head back, her incredibly big, blue eyes moving from me to the bowl and then to Reaver.
“They’re one of my favorite fruits.” I picked up a fork and sliced the strawberry in two. “Do you remember when I had you eat from a fork before?”
Jadis hesitated, then nodded as her hands returned to my hair, grabbing fistfuls.
Figuring that was a good sign, I picked up one of the halves. “Just in case you’ve forgotten, watch me.”
She didn’t take her eyes off me or the fork as I took an incredibly slow bite. She chirped twice.
“ Me, me .”
“Me.” I whispered what I’d heard in my mind, utterly dumbfounded. Was I really hearing her? Getting the other strawberry half onto the fork, I glanced over at Ash and Reaver. The space where they had been was empty, and I wondered if they’d gone through the door in the bathing chamber that led to the adjoining meeting space.
Like before, Jadis stared at the utensil for several moments, her eyes narrowed. Her claws snagged in my hair as one hand let go and dropped to my arm. She tugged.
I smiled at her. “Ready?”
She snapped forward, closing her mouth around the fork. Her teeth clanged off the silver, but she did get the strawberry off without me losing the utensil or her losing a tooth.
“Good job. Want more?” I asked, not worried about feeding her strawberries since Ash gave her all the food under the roof when he thought Nektas wasn’t paying attention.
Jadis nodded. She watched avidly as I cut several more strawberries in half, holding on to my arm and humming. It still took a couple of seconds for her to remember what to do and trust the utensil, but by the time we got to the last strawberry, she was no longer hesitant, and I felt Ash’s and Reaver’s presence again.
“Jadis,” Ash called as he strode toward the table and couch. “You haven’t even acknowledged me yet.”
Jadis squawked excitedly, then threw herself against the arm I was using to brace her and keep her upright.
Feeling like second best, I grinned as I let her go. She scampered across the couch and then stood on her hind legs, stretching her arms up.
“I’m still your favorite.” Ash gave me a wink as he picked Jadis up, holding her to his chest. “Knew it.”
Jadis pressed the top of her head to his cheek, her eyes squeezed shut.
Reaver quietly approached. His skin was no longer ruddy, but his eyes were puffy as he peeked up at me through dusky lashes. “Hi.”
“Hello,” I replied, and then we…
We just stared at each other.
I honestly had no idea what to do with children, especially upset ones, other than distract them with food. I didn’t think that would work with Reaver, but when I looked at him, I was reminded of how close he’d come to dying due to Veses . He’d been keeping me company when she arrived and had gone after her in an attempt to defend me—something draken weren’t supposed to do. She’d attacked him viciously enough to deliver a near-fatal blow, and I could still feel the panic of seeing him lying there in his mortal form, unmoving.
So, I got over my awkwardness and patted the seat next to me. “Sit with me?”
Reaver nodded and hopped onto the couch beside me. He kept his chin lowered and his hands clasped in his lap.
“Hungry?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“Damn.” I sighed. “I was hoping I would get to teach you how to use a fork.”
“I know how to use a fork.”
“You sure?” I grinned as he glanced over at me, and I could see through the strands of his blond hair that his brows were furrowed. “I’m exceptionally skilled at teaching one how to use utensils.”
Those serious, now-jewel-blue eyes met mine. “I can pretend I don’t know how if you’d like.”
I laughed. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Good,” he said, shifting his stare to his hands and then back to me. “I really didn’t mean to interrupt you two.”
“It’s okay. I’m glad you did. I missed you all—” My chest hitched as I remembered standing in the Bonelands , thinking I might die before I got to see them again.
Reaver wiggled closer. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” Clearing my throat, I glanced at Ash. He was filling a glass of water as Jadis, now draped over his shoulder, chattered in his ear about something to do with… “Grass—green grass.”
“You can understand her now?” Curiosity filled Reaver’s voice.
“I…I think I can. I swore I heard her earlier, and this time, I just kind of have a feeling about what she’s saying.” I sent Ash a smug look. “Either that or I’m hallucinating.”
“Likely the latter,” Ash teased.
I snorted. “Someone sounds jealous.” Wanting to distract Reaver and brag, I said, “Did you know that it took Ash actual days before he could understand the draken ?”
Reaver looked between us while Ash raised a brow. “I didn’t.”
“Apparently, it’s not taking me that long,” I boasted.
“You’re such a quick learner,” Ash stated dryly.
I grinned. “I actually thought Ash was lying when he said he could understand you all.”
“He never lies,” Reaver replied solemnly, and Ash’s grin spread. “She’s really excited about the grass. She’s never seen it green before.”
I focused on Reaver. “You haven’t either, have you?”
Reaver shook his head. “It’s different.” He sat back a little. A moment passed as he looked between Ash and me. “Did you really miss us?”
“Very much so.” I pushed the now-even-more-tangled hair back from my face. “And I was worried about both you and Jadis. I…” I swallowed, dropping my hands to my lap as I whispered, “I was also afraid.”
Mashing his lips together, he blinked damp lashes. Chest squeezing, I extended an arm. After a second, Reaver closed the distance between us and pressed himself against my side.
Folding my hand under the soft strands of hair at the back of his head, I closed my eyes. “But like Ash said, we’re safe. We’re good. All of us. And we’re going to stay that way.”
“Promise?” Reaver asked in a rough whisper.
“Promise,” I swore, kissing the top of his head.
Tension eased from Reaver’s thin body as he relaxed against me and quieted as I idly ran my fingers through the soft strands of his hair. Some time passed, and the release of all the emotion that had been building up in Reaver must’ve exhausted him. He fell asleep and ended up using my leg as a pillow.
I kept threading my fingers through his hair, worried that he’d wake up if I stopped. Sleep was always best after a good cry.
My mind wandered over everything it would take to make the promise Ash had made to Reaver happen as I listened to Ash’s footsteps and Jadis’s waning chatter. Even without the prickly sense of knowing, I feared I knew where this was headed.
And yes, it was a real, cold, cutting fear. Because no matter how many gods or Primals decided to stand with us, I knew lives would be lost.
I did what I didn’t want to. I thought about Kolis. There were moments when he was like how he must’ve been before bitterness and envy rotted him from the inside. Before that fateful day on the Cliffs of Sorrow when he saw Sotoria . But whoever he had been that allowed Eythos to continue loving him so irrevocably was long gone. His rot had decayed him so thoroughly that it ruined even his best intentions.
He was truly a monster now.
Kolis wouldn’t bow out. He thrived on ultimate power and authority. Got off on it. Without it, what did he have? Bitter truths and tainted memories?
But I knew Kolis wanted to avoid war. That was what I’d been about to tell Ash before the young draken arrived. Kolis wasn’t completely irrational. He knew what was at stake. He also didn’t want to fight in a war he believed he could lose.
And if we got the majority of the Primals to back us? Would he back down then? Maybe a little. Perhaps just enough to give us a chance to take him down.
Ash’s shoulder brushed mine as he sat beside me. Jadis was passed out against his chest, one of her scaled cheeks resting just above his heart. I lifted a brow as I saw that the little draken was all but swaddled in what appeared to be one of Ash’s sweaters.
“Just in case she decides to shift into her mortal form. It’s been happening less and less, but I don’t think she’s quite grown out of it,” Ash said, his voice low as Jadis wiggled in her sleep, managing to poke one clawed foot free of Ash’s sweater as he glanced down at Reaver. “How he was earlier? I haven’t seen him like that since his parents died.”
My attention shifted back to Reaver’s sharp features and the slight parting of his lips. “I promised him we would all remain safe,” I admitted.
“We will.”
I nodded as I smoothed my hand over the crown of Reaver’s head, but I knew I shouldn’t have made any promises.
There would be a fight.
Would it only be between us and Kolis, or would it become the war Attes spoke of and Kolis swore he wanted to avoid?
Either way, lives would be lost.
And we wouldn’t be able to keep everyone safe.
“You just missed Ash,” I said, holding the bedchamber door open for Nektas . “He took Jadis and Reaver to the chamber they normally sleep in.”
“Ah,” he murmured, glancing down the hall. “I’m guessing they were still asleep?”
“They were when they left, which kind of surprised me,” I admitted, having figured one of them would’ve woken when Ash draped them over his shoulders.
His head tilted. “Younglings are deep sleepers. Once they fall asleep, they’re out until morning.”
“Huh.” From what I knew, that was the complete opposite of mortal children.
His attention shifted back to me. “I hope you got some rest after your eventful night.”
My thoughts flashed to the hours spent in bed with Ash. There had been some rest involved. “I did.”
“That’s good to hear,” he said. “You may feel stronger than ever.”
“But I’m a baby Primal and, therefore, need lots of nap time,” I said, eyeing him. “Why do I suspect that you knew exactly where your daughter and Reaver were?”
A faint smile tugged at Nektas’s lips. “Am I that transparent?”
“Yes.” I stepped aside. “Would you like to come in?”
His chuckle was low and raspy as he walked in. “This is unexpected.”
“What is?” I asked as I closed the door.
“This,” he answered with a sweep of his arm.
I scanned the chamber and winced at the bed in complete disarray and the leftover food and clothing scattered about. “The place is a bit of a mess, isn’t it? We had just finished dinner when Reaver and Jadis came by.”
“A mess?” Nektas surveyed the space. “It actually looks lived in.” He bent, picking up a napkin that had fallen to the floor. “You remember what it looked like before.”
Cold. Neat. Almost empty and devoid of…life.
“It is actually a relief to see such a mess.” He placed the napkin on the table. “There is a warmth to it.”
A mix of emotions surfaced as I fiddled with one of the buttons on my robe. I was at once glad that there was life here and sad that there hadn’t been before.
That Ash hadn’t been able to allow that.
“I hate Kolis,” I whispered as a surge of essence rippled through me.
Nektas turned his head to me. “For what he has done to Ash and to you.”
My breath snagged. What he’d said hadn’t been posed as a question. It was a statement of fact. “Yeah.” I swallowed thickly. “By the way, I heard Jadis tonight through the te’lepe .”
Crossing his arms, he faced me. “I believe we were right in our assumptions regarding the maturity of the embers.”
I nodded.
“I did come here for a reason,” he said after a moment. “I wanted to apologize for tonight’s interruption. Both Jadis and Reaver were told to give you and Ash space.”
“Oh, gods. Please don’t apologize. I was glad to see them. I missed them, and I think they needed to see us to know we’re okay. Especially Reaver. And I needed to see them . There was a time I didn’t think I would see them again.” Avoiding Nektas’s gaze, I cleared my throat and then did what I had already done more than once this evening. I changed the subject. “Ash and I discussed Kolis,” I said, giving him a brief rundown of what we’d planned.
“All of that sounds good,” he replied. “Though I have no interest in speaking for the draken .”
My lips pursed. Who would be better? “But you really do think it’s a good idea?”
“It’s a change.” He scratched his chin. “But change is good, especially when it’s needed.”
Exhaling slowly, I nodded. “There’s something else. Something I realized after speaking with you.”
He picked up an untouched strawberry. “What is that?”
“The riders. Do you know what they are?”
He finished off the sugar-dusted fruit. “What do you think?”
“I…I think you know more than you’ve shared with Ash,” I said after a moment.
Picking up another berry, he went quiet for a moment. “I was still of only one form when the riders came into existence, created to bring about the end.”
“Gods, you are so old,” I mumbled. He shot me a narrowed-eye look, and I flashed him a quick, bright smile. But he was old, and I knew what that meant.
“Why do you ask?” he questioned.
“It wasn’t until I was having dinner with Ash that I remembered all the stuff I’d seen during my Ascension,” I explained. “You know who the Fates are, don’t you?”
He nodded, looking out over the courtyard. “I remember the Ancients more clearly than the eldest of the Primals . I know what some became.”
“And you never said anything to Ash?”
Nektas shook his head as he wiped his fingers on the napkin he’d picked up.
“I didn’t either. I almost did, but I had a feeling I shouldn’t. That there would be consequences if I did,” I told him. “But I don’t know why. I was wondering if you did.”
“Power. Ancestry,” he stated. “Some gods and mortals would seek to follow them instead of the Primals —those who would always align themselves with those they believed were the strongest—who they descended from in one way or another. We are lucky the Arae know the truth.”
“What truth?”
“That beings who wield control over life and death, the lands and the elements, those who hold within them such unyielding power, can never be in a position to rule,” he said, eather flashing in his pupils. “For they are blood and bone.”
“The ruin and wrath of a once-great beginning,” I whispered. A fine shiver curled its way down my spine at the same moment cold fingers of dread pressed into the skin behind my left ear. I thought about what Kolis had sought to become.
A Primal of Blood and Bone.
Of Life and Death.
“The Ancients,” I said. “They held power over all, right? Before they split their powers and went into Arcadia or became the Fates.”
“Before then, a single Ancient could influence gods and mortals to go to war or make peace. They could inspire invention and love, or slothfulness and envy, and ensure that the lands were as fruitful as a union between the two,” he said. “One could turn an entire village propitious or curse every inhabitant with misfortune.” His gaze met mine. “It is because they wielded control over all forms of life and death.”
A chill went down my spine as I crossed the chamber, stopping at the balcony doors. “The part about them being able to create new realms wasn’t hyperbole.”
“I never saw them do it, but it was said they could,” he said as I pulled a curtain aside. “But they could also undo the realms. They could topple the mountains and flood the lands. That is what some wanted to do. Not complete destruction, not a complete undoing of the realm, but they had done it before. In different lands.”
“Lands to the east and west, separated by unending seas and mist,” I murmured, thinking about the mountains I’d seen erupting into flames, and the steel buildings that had fallen. Had they already done what I’d seen? Was that why we couldn’t pass beyond the veil of eather ?
Or was that what was to come?
“But you know what the Ancients were capable of and what the ones who went to ground still are,” he said.
“I know. I was just thinking about why there has never been a Primal of Life and Death.” My fingers tightened on the curtain. “It’s because they would be…”
“Not just mightier than any Primal,” he finished, “but a Primal of Life and Death. Therefore, as powerful as an Ancient once their essence reached maturity.”
I stared at the dark skies beyond the glass. “If Kolis drained his brother and took the embers that way, he…” I rubbed the nape of my neck. “He would’ve taken all of them.” The prophecy whispered through my thoughts. “ For finally, the Primal rises …” It spoke of the Primal of Blood and Ash. Blood and Ash stood for Life and Death. Blood and Bone. “He would’ve become the Primal of Blood and Bone.” I forced in a slow, even breath. “He could still become that.”
“Will you allow it?”
My gaze flew to him. “Fuck, no.”
“Will Ash?”
“Absolutely fucking not.”
Nektas smiled. “I didn’t think so,” he said. “Once Kolis is dealt with, such a being will not be a concern.”
Unease stirred as I stood there, leaving me a little—or a lot—confused. I didn’t think it had anything to do with Kolis, despite the fact he was a threat in more ways than…five hundred. It was the idea that such a being as a Primal of Life and Death was impossible. But I wasn’t sure why. My intuition was quiet again.
Except for one thing.
Even when Kolis was dealt with, a being of such power was not impossible.
Gold spun before me.
Gilded bones.
Gold chests.
Chains.
And I felt him behind me, beneath me, his body too hot. Too still. Weight crushed my chest.
Crushed me.
“I cannot believe you would bring him up as I hold you,” Kolis hissed in my ear.
I twisted in his grip and saw him, his flesh thinning until the dull gleam of bone was visible.
No, this isn’t real.
“That you would even speak his name.”
I couldn’t get air into my lungs as I stared into pools of gold-flecked eather .
This isn’t real.
I’d escaped.
I’d freed myself.
His lips peeled back, baring elongated fangs.
No. No. No —
“Sera.”
Upon the sound of my name—the sound of his voice—I could breathe again. Air poured into my lungs. The stale scent of lilacs got washed away by fresh air and citrus. Kolis faded away, dissipating like smoke. The gilded cage collapsed, crumbling into nothing.
The nightmare disappeared into a gray, tranquil void, and this time, I thought I felt the cool touch of Ash’s lips against my brow. As I slipped further into the void of sleep, I thought I heard Ash’s voice again, telling me that it was only a dream. That I was safe, now and always. That he was there and would watch over me. Keeping the nightmares at bay.