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I drew back against Nyktos’s chest. “What’s in the mist?”
“The souls of the recently deceased.” His arm tightened around me. “They’re waiting to enter the Pillars.”
Staring into the mist, I lifted my hand to the center of my chest where the embers continued to hum and spread warmth through my midsection. There had to be hundreds inside the mist.
“You okay?” Nyktos asked quietly, dipping his head to mine.
I nodded as I squeezed my hand into a fist. My palms were begi
“The embers of life are responding to the souls.” Nektas drew his horse closer to ours as the mist steadily crept closer, narrowing the road. “When Eythos was the Primal of Life, he always found it difficult to be near the Pillars—close to death in such high numbers. It…wore on him.”
Realizing that Nyktos was listening as closely as I was, I lowered my fist to my lap.
“He once told me it was hard to ignore the pull—the instinct to intervene.” Nektas turned his gaze to the sky. “He knew death was a way of life. A part of the cycle that must continue uninterrupted. But it saddened him, especially here. He couldn’t see their souls like his brother could—like Nyktos now can—but he knew each of their names. Knew their lives, no matter how short or long. The ones who lived the briefest troubled him the most.”
My gaze drifted back to the souls shrouded in mist. I figured that Eythos’s ability to know the lives of those who had died was like the names of those who’d died coming to his son to be written in the Book of the Dead. He simply knew, and I was grateful that I didn’t know anything about the souls in the mist. That the embers weren’t that strong in me. Ignoring the urge to use them was hard enough.
“Can they see us?” I asked.
“No. They ca
My chest became heavy. “That sounds…lonely.”
“It’s for only a brief time, one they will not remember once they pass through the Pillars.” Nyktos reached down, placing his hand over mine. The contact startled me, and I looked up at him. “Does it wear on you?” His voice was low. “The need to use the embers?”
“No.” I looked ahead.
“Liar,” he whispered, and I swore the arm around me tightened even further.
“Eythos couldn’t be near the Pillars longer than a few minutes. If that,” Nektas continued after a minute. “He would have to leave, knowing it was the only way to stop himself from using the embers. And yet, you are able to remain within their presence.”
I glanced at the draken. “I only have two embers. He was the Primal of Life. It probably doesn’t affect me as much as it did him.”
Nektas’s crimson gaze settled on me. “You carry two Primal embers in you. That is more than enough to feel the same impact as he did.”
“He speaks the truth,” Nyktos confirmed.
“How can that be possible when I don’t know anything about the souls in the mist?”
“Have you tried?”
My brows furrowed. I hadn’t, but I also hadn’t tried to use the embers. They just sort of did their thing whenever someone was dying or injured.
“You’re stronger than you realize, meyaah Liessa.” Nektas smirked as I shot him a glare.
“The embers, you mean,” I corrected him.
“He didn’t misspeak.” Nyktos’s thumb swept back and forth. “He speaks of you. Not the embers.”
I fell quiet as we continued the climb, a little relieved to know that the urge I felt to use the embers wasn’t due to my inability to control myself. And also a bit disorientated to think that I would somehow have a better handle on them than Eythos. Both Nyktos and Nektas had to be mistaken, but Nektas’s question echoed, and I found myself staring into the mist, focusing on one of the shapes. Seconds ticked by, and I…I thought the form became clearer. A head and shoulders became unmistakable. The shroud seemed to fade around the soul as the embers pulsed—
Sucking in a short breath, I quickly faced forward. Heart thumping unsteadily, I decided that I didn’t need to know if I was capable of naming the dead or seeing their lives. There was no point when the embers would soon be in Nyktos.
But the embers continued to throb.
The mist had pulled back from the road and sky, widening and spilling out over the land. Even more souls were here, but I didn’t dare look too closely into the mist.
Nektas’s chin jerked up, and I followed his gaze to see Ehthawn veer off to our left, his long wings cutting through the faint tendrils of mist.
I watched until I could no longer see him. “Where’s he going?”
“He must be checking something out,” Nyktos answered as Nektas sent him a quick glance. We crested the hill just then, the stars returned, and the Pillars came into view.
They, like everything in the Shadowlands, were made of shadowstone. Two deep black columns rose from the mist, positioned several yards apart, and they stretched so high into the now-violet-laced iron sky, I couldn’t see where they ended or if they even did. There appeared to be markings on them, similar to the ones I’d seen in the Shadow Temple. A circle with a vertical line through it. As we began to descend the hill, my attention shifted below.
The road ahead split, becoming a crossroads. The crossroads weren’t empty. Three waited on horseback. All were cloaked and hooded, wearing white. Each horse was also shrouded in the same pale color. Their cloaks and shrouds rippled gently around them, but there was no breeze.
And the horses weren’t exactly normal either.
What I could see of them beneath their shrouds reminded me of the Shades—little more than skeleton and tendon.
“That’s really unsettling,” I whispered.
Nyktos gave a rough chuckle. “That they are.”
“What are they?”
“They are Polemus, Peinea, and Loimus,” Nektas answered.
I frowned. “Those’re their names?”
“Well, they’re more of an embodiment of who they are than actual names,” Nyktos shared. “It’s Primal language.”
“And they are…” Nektas said, shrugging as he glanced at Nyktos. “Well, I suppose you could call them riders.”
My brows inched up as Nyktos snorted. “Of what?” I asked, definitely creeped out. Other than their shrouds, none of them had moved. Not even an inch.
“Of the end,” Nyktos said, and I stiffened. “Their names mean war, pestilence, and hunger. And when they ride, they bring about the end to wherever they travel because death always follows them.”
“What the fuck?” I whispered, my eyes widening as we neared the three riders.
Nyktos laughed again, the sound rumbling against my back, and I was so glad that he found this amusing. “Luckily, they can only be summoned by the true Primal of Life.”
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Luckily.”
The three riders lifted their heads as we slowed and then stopped before them. I couldn’t see anything within their hooded cloaks, and I didn’t want to. I didn’t need to be haunted by whatever nightmare surely existed inside.
Then the horses moved, lowering their shrouded heads as each bent one front leg. They and the riders bowed.
“Huh,” Nektas murmured, his head cocked. “Haven’t seen that happen in a while.”
I glanced back at Nyktos. He stared at the riders, his eyes slightly wide and luminous. Taut, pale lines bracketed his mouth. “I’ve never seen them do that.” He blinked several times, and some of the brightness faded as he looked down at me, clearing his throat. “The entrance to the Vale is only a few feet to our right.”
I saw absolutely nothing but swirling, silvery-white mist.
“I ca
I turned as Nektas rode in front of the riders, who had returned to their eerily still positions. Nyktos swung off Gala’s back. He unstrapped the two short swords he’d brought with him and secured them to Gala’s side. “Just in case.” Then he passed the reins to me, but his hand remained folded over mine.