Страница 54 из 216
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ash and I rode through the Rise gates, leaving the guards there in stu
And the glimpse of my bare calf as Odin’s pace picked up, causing the cloaks to flutter around our legs, was likely also a dead giveaway.
Ash and I were fully dressed—at least, mostly—yet neither of us was in what one would consider appropriate attire beneath our cloaks. He wore pants. I wore my translucent nightgown. I’d been that eager to test out the feeling telling me I could do something. I didn’t know if Ash believed me or was simply humoring me, but he hadn’t even insisted we take a few moments to think things over.
Glancing back, I could still see the guards standing at the towers by the gate as if frozen. “I think they knew it was us.”
“There’s a good chance they did.”
“Do you think they’ll alert anyone?” I asked, petting Odin’s mane as the eather hummed beneath my skin, almost as if ramping up and preparing itself. “I really hope not. In case I’m wrong.”
“They won’t.”
An echo of awareness shuttled through me as I looked up to the star-strewn sky and spotted a draken in the distance. It didn’t feel like Nektas.
“It’s Ehthawn, isn’t it?” I asked.
“It is.” There was a pause. “He is still too far out for you to see which draken it is. You sensed who it was.”
“I did. Or at least I think I did. It feels like an echo or imprint of who they are.” I squinted, seeing another draken in the distance. “Is that what you feel?”
“I guess I would describe it as an echo that is felt instead of heard,” he said.
My heart clenched as I lowered my gaze to the unlit torches lining the road. “How is Ehthawn doing?” I wanted to smack myself the moment I stopped speaking. “That’s a foolish question. He’s obviously not doing well, having lost his sister.”
“It’s not a foolish question, liessa.” Ash’s arm tightened around my waist. “He mourns, but he’s not alone. Ehthawn still has family—his cousin and those not by blood.”
I nodded, my chest heavy as the last of the torches appeared on the small hill ahead. I didn’t think Orphine had considered me a friend, but I believed we’d been on the road to becoming that. And her quick, sharp-tongued responses amused me. “I…I’m going to miss Orphine.”
“As will I.” Ash shifted behind me. Farther out, another winged creature became visible in the sky. “Crolee flies with him.”
I’d briefly seen Ehthawn and Orphine’s cousin when we were in the Bonelands. Crolee had also been on this very road when Ash first brought me into the Shadowlands. I’d thought he and the other draken were hills, but I’d known very little about the draken then.
As we crested the hill, I forced a deep, even breath and focused on the land. At night, the skeletons of the bare, twisted trees beyond the dried-up river cha
“I think here will be fine,” I decided.
Ash guided Odin off to our right onto what I thought was once the banks of the river. We came to a stop, and Ash swung himself off Odin with enviable grace. I turned to where he now stood, his hood down. Silently, he lifted his hands to my hips. Grasping his arms, my stomach was a jumble of nerves as he helped me down.
Sca
I swallowed, looking around. “Would you believe me if I lied and said yes?”
“Not when you just admitted you’d be lying.” The faint curve to his mouth warmed the harsh, cold beauty of his face.
I snorted as I tugged the back of my hood down. “Then you know the answer. I’m really not sure.” Lips pursing, I turned back to the parched earth. Doubt began creeping in. “What if I was experiencing delusions of grandeur?”
His rich, smoky chuckle danced in the rapidly darkening sky. “I don’t think that’s the case.”
I probably should’ve stopped and thought about this, but I hadn’t been able to. Literally. Uneasy, my hands opened and closed as I walked forward. Dead grass crunched under the thin soles of my slippers. I stopped by a patch of green and knelt, ru
“I haven’t smelled it since you Ascended.” Crossing his arms, he surveyed the ground. “The rest of the grass will come back without any intervention.”
I knew that, but water would obviously aid it along. Messing with one of my fangs with my tongue, I made my way to the edge of the riverbed. Should I instead attempt to bring back the grass? Regenerate new soil? No. We would have to spend the gods only knew how long traveling around the Shadowlands for me to place my hands on the ground, and I couldn’t wait for that.
We couldn’t wait.
U
“There were.”
Fresh, ru
“Some were what you’d find in the mortal realm—deer, livestock, wolves, tree bears. All ma
My lip curled. “You didn’t need to tell me that.”
“Has it changed your mind?”
“No.”
“Didn’t think so,” he replied. “There were also animals never seen by most mortals. Beasts both large and small.”
Curiosity rose as I rubbed my damp palms on my cloak. “Like what?”
“Too many to name. But the Shadowlands was once home to the lyrue.”
“The lyrue?” I repeated, the name tugging at the edges of my memory, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever actually heard the term before.
“They were one of my father’s lesser-known creations. Some would say they were a mistake,” he explained, and I glanced over at him. His features were highlighted under the brightening starlight. “They were originally mortal, and legend says that my father believed he could give mortals a dual life like he did for the draken. But this was different. For what he created were beings mortal by day that took the form of beasts similar to wolves but on two legs at night.”
My forehead creased. “I assume they were considered a mistake because…?”
“Because they had no control over their forms once night fell.”
Why would that be such a big deal when other creatures in Iliseeum weren’t exactly normal to look upon?
Ash cleared that up a moment later. “And because they would then dine on the flesh of others, from cattle to gods and everything in between.”
My mouth dropped open. “Them eating people should’ve been the first thing out of your mouth.”
A wry grin appeared as his head tilted. “You have a point there.”
“Yeah, just a small one,” I replied. “They ate people?” I shook my head. “And they couldn’t be asked to, like, not do that?”
“You could ask them all you wanted, but the moment the sun set, they became nothing but insatiable hunger.” Flat, silver eyes met mine. “It didn’t matter who they were when the sun was high or who they loved. Nor did their horror upon discovering what they’d done in the darkest hours of night when they became the most brutal, primitive versions of the wolf. They’d feast on their babes if left alone with them once the sun faded.”
My stomach hollowed. Eating people was bad enough, but chomping down on one’s own children? That was next level. “They’re gone now?”
Ash nodded.
I started to ask how, but the answer occurred to me. A new horror took root in my chest. “With it not being a true day or night in the Shadowlands…”
“The lyrue remained in their beast forms,” he answered, his jaw hardening. “They had to be hunted into extinction, and for most of them, it was a relief—a release from a life that had become a curse and one they never would’ve chosen for themselves.”
Good gods.
Wondering what could’ve gone so drastically wrong, I turned my attention back to the riverbed, unable to understand the difference between giving a creature a dual life and creating one from a mortal. But the line between them was thin. Eythos had given the dragons a dual life, creating the draken. Why had—?
I stiffened, my skin tingling. “He…he didn’t give them a choice.”
Ash’s head snapped in my direction. “How did you—?” He inhaled deeply, his chin lifting. “Foresight.”
Nodding, I swallowed hard. “Why didn’t he give them a choice?”
Ash held my stare for a moment before his gaze slid away. “I don’t know. All of that happened long before I was born, but my father wasn’t without flaws.”
A knot lodged in my chest. No, he was not. “Kolis believes that everyone saw his brother as flawless.”
“And Kolis is a fucking idiot,” he snarled, shadows appearing beneath his thi
“Like with Sotoria?” I blurted out.
His gaze swung back to mine. “You’re talking about what he did with her soul—the deal he made with your ancestor?”
Now, it was I who looked away. I nodded, but I wasn’t thinking about Eythos’s deal with King Roderick Mierel and how he’d placed Sotoria’s soul along with the embers of life in my bloodline. It was what Kolis had claimed Eythos had done to Sotoria. What I knew was true.
Eythos had been the one to end Sotoria’s second life.
“Even though whatever he pla
Slowly, I turned to him. The shadows had receded from his flesh, but the eather pulsed brightly in his eyes. I started to tell him that wasn’t what I’d meant, but that would open a door, and it wasn’t a good time to walk through it because that conversation would lead to another truth Kolis had spoken—albeit a partial one. The one about Ash’s mother.
So, I did what Ash normally did.