A fire in the flash

Gasping for air, I looked at the bars above me. A faint cloud of dust drifted down. Something glinted at the center of the cage up high, where all the bars came together, but I couldn’t focus on it.

My gaze moved to the chamber beyond. A buttery yellow glow from several chandeliers cast a soft light over shiny, obsidian walls. Shadowstone. I could see the cracks in the stone—fractures that were far deeper and impossible for me to have caused.

I saw a gilded seat. How many damn thrones did Kolis have? One in every room, it seemed—possibly even the bathing chamber.

But it wasn’t the only item. Centered around it was a sitting area with several settees, a few low tables, and a couple of wingback chairs. To the left was a dining table and some other chairs. A dark, cherry-wood credenza was against the wall, stocked with numerous bottles of liquor and stacked glasses. All but the credenza and what it held was gilded.

Did Kolis hold meetings in here?

Fucking gods, I bet he did.

Several windows were near the ceiling, too high to reach and only a couple of feet wide and tall. So, unless I learned to fly and could contort my body to half its size, they wouldn’t do me any good.

I could only assume I was inside some chamber within Cor Palace, but I had no idea for sure. I could be anywhere.

Ash could be anywhere.

The tile beneath my palm cracked.

Holy shit, I was breaking shadowstone, one of the strongest materials in both realms—if not the strongest.

Oh, gods, I needed to calm down.

I slid my trembling hands to my knees. I could do this. I could control the panic and the Primal essence, couldn’t I? Even if it didn’t feel like it, the anxiety came from my mind. I knew how to stop it. And the eather? I now knew that was a part of me, so much so that the embers couldn’t even be removed without killing me. I’d controlled it earlier. I could do it again now. The embers are yours for the time being, I reminded myself.

And I could control them again. I could control myself. I was not weak. I wasn’t helpless when it came to this. I wouldn’t be. I refused.

So, I needed to figure this out.

Was the essence responding to my emotions? To the violent mix of panic and anger? Or was it reacting to the feeling of not being able to breathe? It wasn’t the former. Yes, the eather always became more active when I felt something strongly, but it was the breathlessness and the feeling of not being attached to myself that was the cause. It was the spiral of feeling completely out of control as if I were capable of doing anything to myself, and anything could happen to me. That was doing this. Because it felt like dying. Like ru

But I wasn’t completely out of control. I wouldn’t do anything to myself. This wasn’t like the night I’d taken too much sleeping draft. I didn’t want to die. I hadn’t really wanted to then, either. I’d just been lost. And I was breathing. Not very well, but I wasn’t being choked by unseen hands. Air was still getting into my lungs. I just needed to slow down my respiration.

My fingers dug into my knees as I forced my aching jaw to open. I went with Ash’s instructions because it made me feel like he was here, and I badly needed that. I conjured up the memory of his body bracing mine, and his arms wrapped firmly around me. Gods, I could hear him, his smoke-and-shadow voice.

“You need to slow your breathing,” he said softly. “Put your tongue behind your upper front teeth.”

I did as he’d instructed, pressing the tip of my tongue to the back of my upper teeth and keeping my mouth closed. Then, imagining that he was guiding me to do so, I straightened my back, removing any actual physical pressure from my chest.

“Close your eyes and listen to me.” I obeyed the command from the memory. “Focus only on me. I want you to exhale to the count of four. Don’t breathe in. Just exhale. One. Two. Three. Four. Now, inhale for the same count.”

I did exactly that, breathing out and then in.

“Don’t stop.”

I didn’t. I kept going as seconds became minutes. I didn’t regain control immediately. I had to fight for it. Needed to wait for my chest to loosen and my throat to expand. I had to fight for my breathing to slow and deepen. Fight for the embers to calm down.

So, I did what I did best. I fought.

I had no idea how much time had passed. Could’ve been a handful of minutes or hours, but the tears finally slowed. My breathing deepened and became steadier. The embers calmed, and the spiraling feeling faded until I felt present, attached to my body, and in control once more.

Blowing out a ragged breath, I rocked back and then pushed to my feet. The pain in my face and mouth alternated between a dull ache and a throbbing pulse as I shoved tangled, damp curls back. I carefully wiped at my cheeks, my stomach dipping at the red sheen I saw on my palms.

Tears of blood.

Tears of a Primal.

Gods.

I took another deep breath as I looked at my right hand. The luminous, golden whirls swept over my hand and slipped between my thumb and pointer finger, continuing in sweeping swirls across my palm.

Ash was alive.

I just needed to make sure he stayed that way, which meant I had to get the hell out of here and find him so he could take the embers. Then he would Ascend into what he was always meant to be: the true Primal of Life.

In my chest, the embers wiggled as if they…disapproved?

Gods, that was a wild thought. They were only energy. Power. They didn’t have opinions or biases. They just were.

And once Ash was the true Primal of Life, the few embers of death that still existed in Kolis would force him to once more assume the role of the Primal of Death. That would stop the Rot from spreading within the kingdom of Lasania, and eventually the rest of the mortal realm. And with the ability to Ascend gods restored, as I’d done with Bele and Aios, Ash could kill Kolis and have a new Primal rise in his place.

“What was Eythos thinking?” I whispered, asking for what felt like the hundredth time.

He’d created a weapon by putting the only true embers of life inside me, along with Sotoria’s soul.

But it was a poorly thought-out, imperfect one.

He clearly hadn’t considered all the things that could go sideways after the deal was made. Perhaps he’d thought I would be born before he died, even though he knew Kolis would kill him. Or maybe he assumed Ash would follow through, taking me when I turned seventeen and therefore giving me a chance to kill Kolis before I entered the Culling. Before the embers could merge so deeply within me that a single drop of Ash’s blood had made it so they couldn’t be removed without my death. Perhaps he’d hoped his son would take the embers and be able to raise a god of the Shadowlands to assume the role of the true Primal of Death before Kolis’s death wreaked havoc in both realms, which would happen if all the power had no place to go. But…

I slowly shook my head. There was no way he was foolish enough to bank on that. There was no way Ash could Ascend himself and raise another god before the energy Kolis’s death would release did its damage.

I’d seen how fast the shockwave had left Hanan, and there was already another god—another vessel—ready to hold that power.

So, again, what the hell had Eythos been thinking? All he’d managed to do was keep those two true embers of life safe.

And Sotoria.

Until now.

Swallowing, I pressed my hand to the center of my chest. The gown was still wet, and it stuck to my palm. I didn’t hear Sotoria’s voice, but I knew she was there.

I could feel her like I never had before. It was as if she were a tangible entity that had woken up inside me.

And she was aware.

Of how much, though? Enough to feel what I did? Or just enough to know that she was trapped inside me? I wasn’t sure, but I hoped her awareness was only the result of me being close to death and that she’d eventually return to being…well, what I wished for was something akin to being asleep.