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“That could be a problem.”
I glanced over my shoulder, first checking the brown-and-black-scaled draken now curled up on his side on the table. His tail, still without its spikes, hung off the edge.
“Kyn cares for the draken.” Attes was pacing by the table. “He may think that one of the others took care of Thad, but he spends a lot of time in the mountains.”
“Then, when he wakes, you can bring him to the Shadowlands,” Nyktos offered. “Nektas will keep him safe and hidden.”
Attes nodded. “That he will.”
“We ca
“No.” Attes cocked his head toward me. “That charm she bears will not work here.”
“No,” I said. “It will not.”
“Kolis may send the dakkais here,” Nyktos warned. Nothing had happened yet, but I knew that didn’t mean anything. “To search for the embers.”
“We’ll be ready if he does.”
“And?” Nyktos insisted.
Attes stopped in front of him. “And they will not learn of what happened here. I swear.” He turned toward me. “To you.”
I watched the Primal lower himself to one knee, placing one hand over his heart as he flattened his other palm against the floor. “I swear I will not betray what you’ve done today, meyaah Liessa.”
“That’s really not necessary,” I said. “The my-Queen part. I’m not your Queen.”
Attes lifted his head. “But you are—”
“No, I’m not anything,” I cut him off.
The Primal of War and Accord frowned as he rose, turning to Nyktos.
Nyktos shook his head.
Attes glanced back at me. “I knew something was…different about you. You didn’t feel like a godling.” He then said to Nyktos, “But I thought it was what you told Kolis. That you’d given her a lot of your blood.”
“You had to know when you left that wasn’t the case. You’re clever. You may have thought I was the source of power when you arrived, but you must have had your suspicions upon leaving.”
“I did,” Attes confirmed, his gaze sweeping over me. “I had a lot of suspicions when you didn’t respond to my presence like you should have.”
I tensed. “It was rude of you to even try.”
“There are far ruder things I could try,” he replied, but when Nyktos’s eyes narrowed, he added, “But I prefer not to be threatened for the sixteenth time today.”
“It hasn’t been sixteen times, but I’m sure we’ll get to that number soon enough,” Nyktos growled, the eather in his eyes stilling. “Why not say something to Kolis, Attes? You could’ve gone to him with your suspicions before. You could now. You’d be favored like Hanan once was, and you know what that means. You don’t have to worry about your draken or vassals being dragged to Court to be slaughtered.”
“I know. And I could’ve.” Attes faced Nyktos. “But as I said before, I remember who your father was. I remember who you were meant to be.”
Shadowy tendrils of eather settled around us as we returned to the Shadowlands. The stars were still faint, but the sky was begi
There were no snow-kissed mountains or deep green pines to look upon here, but there was a unique, eerie beauty to the crimson sea of leaves and the iron skies.
“What do you think will happen now?” I asked, folding my fingers over the cool stone railing. “With Attes? Kolis?”
“There’s really no way to know. Kolis may do nothing at the moment, or he may send a warning just as he did with us.” Nyktos joined me, placing his hand beside mine. “But I trust Attes. At least, with this. He was shaken, and I’ve never seen him shaken. He’ll keep quiet—at least long enough for us to hold the coronation and transfer the embers.”
I nodded as the embers pulsed in my chest, pressing against my skin. I ignored the feeling. “I know that we could be wrong and that what I just did could come back to bite us. But I had to…fix that.”
“I know,” he said. “Just because the rest of us have lived that way, it shouldn’t be…it shouldn’t be how it is.”
I glanced at him, but he said no more for several moments.
Then he did.
“Why?” he asked. “Why did you speak out? You shouldn’t have done that, Sera. I could have handled whatever he would’ve dealt.”
I closed my eyes.
“I knew that he would demand a price. I knew it would be sick. Twisted. And I was prepared to do it. To carry the mark it would leave behind.” He was closer now, his voice low. “You didn’t have to speak up. You didn’t need to feel this way. And I know you still feel guilt. Fixing it only lessened a little of that. You don’t deserve this.”
“And you do?” Opening my eyes, I looked over at him. “You deserve to carry those marks?”
Wisps of eather appeared in his eyes. “I’m used to it.”
The cool railing pressed into my palms. “That’s all the more reason it shouldn’t have been you.”
“That is exactly why it should have been me.”
“That’s bullshit,” I snapped, latching on to the anger because that was a far better feeling than this. “I’m sorry that I took that draken’s life, but I am not sorry that I prevented you from being forced to kill. And I hate myself for doing it, but I hate Kolis far more for demanding that it be done. So, yeah, even though I was able to bring Thad back, I still feel like shit over it. I’ll deal with it. And if you’re mad at me for stepping up, you’re going to deal with that and get the fuck over it.”
“I’m not mad at you, Sera.” His eyes flashed with intense bolts of essence. “I’m horrified that you put yourself in that position, and that you now have to live with that because of me.”
I sucked in a rattled breath. “I didn’t do it because of you. Kolis gets that honor. I did it for you. There’s a world of difference.”
Nyktos drew back as if I’d slapped him. “Again, I ask…why would you do that for me? I don’t deserve that. Not after I’ve hurt you. Not even before then.”
That was a good question.
One I knew the answer to.
I wanted to protect Nyktos, even now, and that desire led to another question I didn’t want to think about right now. I couldn’t.
I turned my gaze to the crimson leaves, refocusing on far more important things. My voice trembled slightly as I said, “Do you think Dyses is what Gemma spoke of? Kolis’s reborn? These…Revenants?”
Nyktos didn’t answer for a long moment, but I felt his stare on me. “She said she never saw them during the day, but it has to be, right? Only a Primal could survive the destruction of their heart. Not a god.”
“But she also said that Kolis needed his graeca to perfect them.” My lips twisted. “Not sure how to perfect beyond being able to survive one’s heart being destroyed.”
“Neither do I. I can’t even be sure that Dyses was a god. He felt like one but…off in a way that was hard to process.” He exhaled heavily. “All I can hope is that Kolis doesn’t have many of them. That could prove problematic.”
A short, hoarse laugh left me. “I think that’s an understatement,” I said, swallowing. “How in the hell did he bring him back to life? He doesn’t have the embers of life in him anymore. Or could we be wrong about that?”
“We’re not wrong. And I have no idea how the hell he did that because Dyses isn’t a demis.”
It took me a moment to remember what Aios had told me about them. They were mortals Ascended by a god; those who didn’t have enough essence in them like the third sons and daughters to be Ascended. It was an act forbidden because it rarely succeeded and often changed the mortal in unpleasant ways. “How would you know?”
“I would feel that. They have a certain presence that a Primal can sense. A…wrongness,” he said, watching the distant figures of the guards patrolling the Rise. “Gemma said that the Revenants were Kolis’s work in progress. It’s possible that she’s seen them at different stages of creation.” His shoulders tensed. “Either way, he found a way to create life without the embers, something that could convince the other Courts that he does have that power within him. But who knows what kind of life he’s conjured? Or what they truly are.”