Born of Blood and Ash

CHAPTER ELEVEN

My gaze shifted to the doors behind the twins. What Ash saw was a far scarier outcome and could be the likelier one. I’d known Kolis for a far shorter time than everyone else in the chamber. And I did understand that my experience was heavily prejudiced by who he thought I was and how he behaved because of that. Even before Ione confirmed it, he was desperate to believe I was Sotoria. Now, he had to realize he’d been lied to. That I wasn’t Sotoria. And he would likely revert to the Kolis who would only accept fealty or death.

“Whether Kolis is more cautious or not, we’re still in the same position,” Theon stated.

“And we ca

“I agree with that.” My gaze met Ash’s. I took a deep breath and then looked at those sitting at the table with us. “I wasn’t ready for this—being Queen, let alone pla

“That is reassuring,” Theon said, relaxing into his chair.

“Really?”

Lailah nodded. “Yes. I’d rather have someone acknowledge a lack of experience than pretend, thus needlessly risking lives in the process.”

“Knowing when to rely on others is a strength,” Rhain added. “One that inspires confidence instead of worry.”

“There’s just one thing I have to say.” Bele started to toss her dagger once more but stopped as she finally noticed how close Jadis was. “I’m somewhat disturbed that you, of all people, are being logical.” Bele sheathed the dagger, sending Jadis a playful scowl as the youngling reached for the blade. “I expected better from you.”

“Sorry to fail you,” I replied dryly, glancing at Ash. He nodded for me to continue. “Nyktos and I have spoken about the importance of showing the others that we will be significantly better rulers than Kolis.”

“I would be a significantly better ruler than Kolis,” Bele chimed in. “And that isn’t saying much.”

“A dakkai would probably be better,” Saion suggested, his elbow resting on the arm of his chair.

Lailah sighed and ran a hand across her brow. My lip curled. A picture of the beasts the size of horses with featureless faces except for gaping mouths full of jagged teeth filled my mind. I still couldn’t believe one had sat on the dais at Kolis’s feet, snacking on what I really believed was someone’s leg bone.

I shook the image from my mind. “We want to summon the Primals, excluding Veses and Kyn. They can fuck right off.”

That brought a savage smile to Bele’s face.

“To the Shadowlands?” Saion clarified, and I nodded. “That’s a huge risk.”

“We know.” My heart kicked against my ribs as I noted the unease on several of their faces. “Those who answer the summons will likely support our claim to the throne of Iliseeum.”

“But those who may not support us could send spies in their place—gods of their Court,” Theon warned.

Ash shook his head. “We won’t allow any god to show in their Primal’s place.”

Theon nodded, his expression turning thoughtful. “I doubt Kolis loyalists would risk angering him by responding, even if to spy.”

“That is not all,” I said, glancing toward Ash. His smile was small but filled with so much warmth and pride. A little more of the pressure lifted from my shoulders. “Speaking to them won’t prove anything.”

“Correct,” Bele murmured.

“That’s why we discussed changing how things have been done,” I continued. “Instead of one or two making all the decisions, each Primal will have a vote in what is decided. So, basically, we would form a council.”

All of them stared at me.

I swallowed and forced myself not to start second-guessing my decisions. “The draken would also have a vote. Not only would that create checks and balances of sorts, but we would all have more of a vested interest in whatever is decided, and it stops any of us from having too much authority.” I paused and took a long, slow breath. “Of course, we want your support first.”

There were several exchanged glances. Lailah was the first to break the silence. “I think summoning the Primals is smart. We need to know who is on our side before we decide anything.”

Rhain nodded. “And this council you speak of? Nothing like it has been tried in Iliseeum. That is something new. And it should be very appealing.”

“And if the Primal of a Court is on board with real change, it will make getting their Court under control far easier,” Lailah noted.

That piqued my curiosity. “Other than a few things shared here and there, and what I’ve picked up myself, I don’t know much about the other Courts or how they’re ruled.” I paused. “Or not ruled. But they can’t all be bad.”

Bele snorted.

“At least, I hope not,” I muttered.

“Not all of them are bad, and even Courts like Kyn’s have pockets of communities whose values and beliefs align with the common good,” Rhahar said, his brow pinching. “The Shadowlands is the only Court with one city.”

“But that can now change with life returning to all the land except for the Dying Woods,” Ash interjected.

Rhahar nodded. “But when it comes to the other Courts, they each have a capital—the largest city within the Court—where the Primal usually takes up residency. For example, the island of Hygeia is the most populated of the Triton Isles and that is where Phanos lives. But the other islands are also populated and either ruled by a trusted god, one who has curried favor, or someone who took out their competition.”

My brows rose.

“It’s a coveted spot in many of the Courts. The gods overseeing the smaller cities or islands often turn them into mini fiefdoms. Some are ruled justly and others cruelly,” Saion explained. “It’s been a while since I was in Phanos’s Court,” he continued, glancing at Rhahar. “I personally don’t have an issue with the smaller cities of the Triton Isles, but from what I’ve heard, Phanos has taken more of a laissez-faire approach.”

“As long as the other islands don’t stir Kolis’s ire and, therefore, cause Phanos to pay a blood tithe,” Rhahar added.

Frowning, I turned to Ash. He nodded as he said, “You must not have seen that occur while you were there.” He leaned over and picked up the pitcher. “In the mortal realm, when a citizen overseen by a noble displeases the crown, the crown often seeks a monetary tithe if the offense was not a significant crime. Not Kolis. He has no need of coin.”

“I get it.” Anger stirred, and Reaver nudged my hand again. I rubbed him under his chin. “What of the other Courts?”

“Embris definitely doesn’t take a hands-off approach,” Theon stated. “He rules the entirety of his Court with a strict hand.”

“Why do I have a feeling that’s not a good thing?” I said, my thoughts flashing to Penellaphe.

Ash topped off my glass. “Embris is what one would call a traditionalist.”

My brows shot up. “A traditionalist? Wouldn’t that mean he should have stood against Kolis?”

“He did at first,” Ash said. “Or he tried to. It did not end well for him.”

Gods.

“You say traditionalist,” Lailah commented. “I was thinking of a different word that starts with the same letter. Tyrant. He or one of his trusted gods oversees everything from when his subjects awaken to when they go to sleep.”

“The only place his rule does not reach is Lotho—the highest peak of Mount Lotho to be exact,” Rhain said. “That is where the Fates and the oneirou are.” He frowned. “Or what is left of the oneirou.”

“A God…of Dreams,” Startled, I glanced at Ash. “Odetta, my nursemaid, used to speak of them—well, she used to say that if I misbehaved, the oneirou would find me in my dreams.”

“Wow,” Saion murmured, his brows raised. “That’s a bit much to tell a child.”

“No shit.” Theon chuckled roughly.

“Odetta was a bit much,” I replied dryly. “But no one else really spoke about the Gods of Dreams. I figured they were extinct or something.”

“Very few would remember them. Like with the Gods of Divination, most were killed when Kolis stole the embers,” Ash explained. “There aren’t many left.”

Gods, Embris’s Court really had taken the brunt of Kolis’s actions, which likely explained why the Primal was so tyra

“But the ones who are still around are powerful. They can move seamlessly in and out of dreams. Controlling them. Causing either pleasant dreams or nightmares while working out whatever information they want from you. They make for good spies that way,” Ash continued.

“The good news is that there are little to no outbreaks of violence like there are within Kyn’s side of Vathi or in Veses’ Court.”

“The bad news is that when one steps out of line—and by stepping out of line, I mean being out past curfew—the punishment is severe,” Theon tacked on.

My jaw clenched. “Great.”

“His Court rarely incites Kolis’s wrath,” Ash shared.

“So, Veses’ Court is a cesspool.” I glanced at Rhain. “No offense.”

“None taken.” He held up his hands. “I claim no ties to that Court.”

“I assume Keella rules fairly?” I said. “As does Attes.”

“Yes,” Lailah confirmed.

Theon opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but Lailah shot her brother a look. “Both have had their rough patches, but they have overcome them and rule fairly while entrusting the oversight of the smaller cities to those who will honor their values.”

“And Maia?” I asked.

“Well,” Bele drawled, and I wanted to bang my head on the table. “She’s not necessarily bad, having spent the last several hundred years more focused on entertaining herself than governing. Some of her cities are rather calm. Others are pretty much a giant org—” She stopped herself as Reaver peered over the top of the table at her. “They are like giant adult parties. Not bad, but not really productive or useful, you know? So, sometimes things get a little heated, and not in a good way. There are lots of jealousy-fueled murders, and they sometimes fail to harvest crops or search for children who wander into the forest.” She squinted. “Or even realize they’re missing.”

“Oh, my gods,” I murmured, rubbing my brow.

“Hey, cheer up!” Bele exclaimed with one of her too-wide smiles. “I’ve heard Maia has gotten better. For example, there are fewer…adult parties.”

Ash laughed as he took a drink.