Born of Blood and Ash

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

My summons had worked.

Kind of.

The goddess Penellaphe had not only spoken large portions of the prophecy, but she was also intimately involved with Holland, and Vikter Ward was, well, I wasn’t quite sure exactly what he was other than the first viktor—those who guarded someone the Fates believed would fulfill some purpose or bring about great change. Even mortals bound to commit terrible deeds could end up with a viktor, as messed up as that was, but the Arae used them to aid without upsetting their precious balance.

I still didn’t see how sending in a viktor didn’t upset the balance. Seemed like a loophole large enough that an entire kingdom could fall through it.

They weren’t Holland, but as Reaver—in his draken form—and I were led to a chamber in a wing of the palace opposite Ash’s office, I doubted their visit was coincidental.

Iridessa brought us to the space near the chamber that Jadis had almost burned down—one I doubted had been used in decades. I couldn’t help but think about how Ector used to keep them clean despite their lack of use so Eythos could be remembered.

I supposed hiring someone to keep them clean was a way we could honor Ector.

As Iridessa opened the double doors and then stepped aside, bowing toward me before taking her leave, I swallowed the knot of sadness before it could expand.

Two figures sat on the ivory-cushioned settee. The male viktor placed something dark and square onto the thin table behind him as they rose. I wasn’t sure what it was, but my gaze immediately went to the goddess. It was impossible for it not to.

Penellaphe stood out in stark contrast to the bare shadowstone walls and sterile white furniture. Everything about her was vibrant. The gown reminded me of the blades of grass now growing in the Shadowlands. She had long, honey-hued hair and bronzed skin, and her sea-blue eyes were nearly the same as the man’s who had traveled with her.

Ward appeared as he had when he placed the charm on me, like a mortal who had seen several decades. Sending Reaver, who had flown in behind me, a wary look, he moved to stand beside the goddess.

They both began to lower themselves into deep bows. “You don’t need…” The skin below my ear began to tingle as I stared at the sandy-haired male. It happened so fast, I couldn’t even stop it. Thoughts began to form, coming together to answer what I hadn’t known moments before.

“You were created,” I blurted out.

Penellaphe’s head lifted slightly. “Excuse me?”

“Ward.” I gestured at him. “The Ancients created you. I mean, you were once mortal, but when you died and the Fates rewarded you, they created something entirely new out of you.”

“Er…” Penellaphe murmured, glancing toward where Iridessa and Rhahar stood.

Ward’s bowed head muffled his cleared throat. “Yes, that is correct.”

That was also basically what they had told me, but there was more. The viktors were something otherworldly, like the riders, neither god nor mortal, alive nor dead. But he was…he was different.

I walked closer, focusing on him as Reaver landed on the low table between the settees. Eather hummed through me as I locked on Ward. Images formed in my mind. I saw…I saw glimpses of his many lives in the mortal realm. Him with his charges—those he was sent to watch over. But he was… “You were never reborn.”

Ward’s head jerked up then, his gaze finding mine and not moving away as if he’d been snared.

“The other viktors are reborn, but not you. Because you were restored by an Arae. Your lives in the mortal realm are fabrications. Convincing ones. You learned to live many lies, and you never lost your memories. And you’re old. Older than some of the gods.” Images and words flashed in my mind, coming so fast it was hard to make sense of them, but I saw him when he was mortal. “It was many centuries ago, and you were with a woman—a pregnant woman, not of noble birth. Her name was…” I frowned. “Phena?” That didn’t sound right as I stopped in front of him. I lifted my hand, and before I even knew what in the world I was doing, I touched his cheek—

In my mind, I saw a woman with pale hair and a freckled, heart-shaped face. A woman who eventually gave birth to—

“Ronan,” I whispered, jerking my hand as I took a step back. My heart thundered. Reaver unfurled his wings, lifting his head as he let out a low, deeper call. “Ronan Lesly.” I sucked in a sharp breath, recognizing that surname. “There’s no way…”

“I can explain,” Ward said, straightening. “Or at least try to.”

Unable to speak, I nodded for him to continue.

A heavy sigh left him. “Many, many years ago, when I was mortal, a Queen of a fledgling kingdom—”

“The Vodina Isles,” I cut in.

He nodded. “The Queen knighted me, and I pledged to protect and serve her. I did so without hesitation,” he said, his throat working on a swallow. “But her marriage was one of convenience. One to strengthen ties with other kingdoms. However, the King was already in love with another. A daughter of an aging bookkeeper. And the Queen was aware. She had her own…” Flushing at the throat, he glanced at Reaver. “She had her own suitors, but everything changed when a babe began to grow in the mistress’s belly—one who was the illegitimate child of the King of Vodina. The Queen had yet to provide an heir, so she ordered the death of her husband’s mistress and, therefore, their unborn child—unfortunately, something common in that time.”

Knowing what had eventually become of the Vodina Isles, I imagined it was still common, but it didn’t make much sense to me. “Why? It couldn’t have been due to any fear that an illegitimate child would have some sort of claim to the throne.”

“She feared she would be unable to produce an heir,” Ward explained. “And yes, even if that were the case, an illegitimate child would still have no easy road to the throne. But it was more than that. It was an order born not of unrequited love but the desperation and fear of being tossed aside.”

“Gods,” I muttered, feeling just a tad bit sorry for the woman. If she hadn’t been able to provide an heir, her fear would have likely come to fruition. Many kingdoms still operated that way to this day. It was a whole lot of patriarchal bullshit.

Bullshit that I could change, couldn’t I?

I was pretty sure I could, but that was neither here nor there at the moment. “What happened?”

Ward’s chin lifted. “As a knight, I’d delivered my fair share of death, but not to women and children. Others she could’ve gone to would have no such qualms. So the short of it is, I committed treason. I went to the bookkeeper’s daughter, warned her of the threat, and protected her until the babe was born. But she was…unique for the time. She had no interest in simply being protected. She wanted to learn how to ensure her own safety. I taught her how to do just that.”

“You succeeded.”

Ward nodded.

“The Queen learned of your betrayal,” I guessed.

“She did,” he said. “The babe survived, and so did the mother. That was all that mattered.”

“I don’t think that is all that mattered,” I said.

“But it was,” Ward insisted. “For the bookkeeper’s daughter eventually became Queen of Vodina.”

My head cocked. “What happened to the first Queen?”

“Knowing the Queen would not stop until her child was dealt with, the bookkeeper’s daughter slipped into the palace one night and…well, no one knows exactly what transpired. But come morning, the Queen was dead.”

“Gee,” I murmured. “I wonder what happened.”

“I believe I may have been too successful in my training.” Ward grimaced, causing the faint lines at the corners of his eyes to deepen. “Either way, the bookkeeper’s daughter was the first non-noble to be placed on the throne. Her son, Ronan, eventually ruled Vodina, and the throne passed down through the family for centuries. It was the bloodline Ronan’s birth began and then ended with—”

“With the last King Lesly, who only had a daughter. A princess married to…” I swallowed, unable to say it because it was too unbelievable. “After the marriage, King Lesly was overthrown by the Lords of the Vodina Isles, and a new King was installed.”

“That is what I heard.” His eyes searched mine. “You know who that princess was? Who she became?”

“I do,” I said, my voice hoarse. “My mother.”

“But you’re wrong about the name of Ronan’s mother. She was called Phena,” Ward continued after a moment. “But that was a pet name the King called her. Her full name was Seraphena. Your namesake.”

I knew this. I’d seen it. Heard it. But still, my eyes closed tight. It took me several moments to speak. “I…I didn’t know that my mother had named me after her great…whatever.”

“Then she did not tell you what Seraphena became known as?”

I gave a curt shake of my head and opened my eyes.

“The Silver Knight,” he said. “The warrior Queen who fought alongside her husband and her people in battle. Her name, even now, is synonymous with honor and duty. A name that was never repeated throughout the a

Pressing my hands to my sides, I tried to speak but didn’t know what to say.

I was shocked and wasn’t sure which was more confounding. That Ward had become the first viktor because he’d saved my ancestor, ensuring that I was born generations later? Or that my mother had named me after someone who had clearly been a badass.

A murderous badass.

But the other Queen kind of had it coming.

“May I rise now?” Penellaphe asked.

“Oh, gods,” I gasped. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” Penellaphe straightened, smoothing her hands over the waist of her gown. “I see the Primal foresight is developing in you.”

“When it wants to.” I glanced at Ward. “I feel like I should thank you.”

A faint smile appeared on his weathered face. “There is also no need for that. It’s not like I knew what would come of the act. I just did what I felt was right.”

“So few people do that,” I murmured, thinking about…well, myself.