Текст книги "A shadow in the ember"

Автор книги: Jennifer L. Armentrout

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Текущая страница: 29 (всего у книги 42 страниц)

“Gods.” I shot forward, managing to grasp her tail as I curled an arm under her belly. Heart thumping heavily, I held her to my chest as she chirped madly. “You can’t fly yet,” I told her, having no idea if she understood me or not. “You would’ve broken a wing.”

Bele smacked a hand over her chest. “Oh, Fates, I about had a heart attack.”

“A heart attack? I just saw my life flash before my eyes.” Rhahar looked shaken as Reaver made an unsteady landing near the boulder. “Nektas would’ve had our necks. That’s after charbroiling us.”

My lip curled at the imagery that statement provided, and I bent to put the squirming draken on the ground. Reaver was right there, squawking away. I don’t know what he was communicating to her, but it did not sound pretty. The moment I let her go, she barreled into the larger draken.

“I think that’s enough outdoor fun times for you.” Aios stalked after Jadis.

My heart was still thumping heavily when Bele said, “To answer your question about the coronation… Should you be concerned? The answer is yes,” she advised, and I turned to her. “And if I may give you a piece of advice? No matter what happens, do not show fear.”

The piece of advice Bele had imparted lingered with me as I stood in my bedchamber, wearing only a slip as a woman I’d never met circled me with a cloth tape in hand.

Her name was Erlina. She was mortal, and I thought perhaps in the third or so decade of her life. A seamstress from Lethe. And she was here to take my measurements. Not just for the coronation gown but also so I actually had a wardrobe that went beyond borrowed, scattered pieces.

“Will you lift your arm, Your Highness?” Erlina asked softly.

Recalling what Bele had said, I bit back the urge to tell her she didn’t have to address me so formally. I planned on staying alive long enough to fulfill my duty, so I lifted my arm.

I watched her step onto a small stool she’d brought with her and stretch the tape along the length of my arm, the flowing sleeves of her vibrant blue blouse fluttering. Then she turned, scribbling the measurements on a thick, leather-bound journal.

My gaze flicked to the closed chamber doors, where I knew Ector most likely stood. He had brought me to my chambers, letting me know that the seamstress had arrived. I hadn’t seen Ash yet, and when I asked where he was, I’d been told that he was at the Pillars.

Was he judging souls? If so, what did that even feel like, that kind of responsibility? Pressure. I imagined it was a lot like deciding to use my gift.

“Your other arm,” Erlina instructed. When I raised an eyebrow, a small grin crept across her delicate, almost impish features. “Believe it or not, some people do have arms and legs that are not equal. It’s rare, and usually due to some injury, but I figure it’s best to check.”

“Learn something new every day,” I murmured.

“Same length.” Erlina nodded as she quickly measured my arm. She moved onto my shoulders, which I already knew were probably far wider than most ladies. And definitely broader than hers. She was tiny. “Did you know that your foot is roughly the same length as your forearm?”

I blinked. “Seriously?”

She peeked up at me through a fringe of lashes. “Yes.”

“Huh.” I looked down at my forearm. “Now I want to test that.”

“Most do when they first hear it.” She hopped down from the stool and went to the journal. Her dark brown hair she had twisted into a high bun slipped a little as she turned to me. “I was told that you prefer pants over gowns.”

A wave of surprise flickered through me that it appeared Ash had, yet again, remembered what I’d said. “I do. Did—?” I caught myself before I referred to the Primal as Ash. “Did Nyktos tell you that?”

“He did when he stopped by the shop last week,” she answered, and my stomach tumbled. Last week. It felt like I’d been here longer, and yet it still felt like yesterday when I knelt in the carriage before Marisol. “I would’ve been here sooner, but I was really backed up on designs.”

“It’s okay,” I assured her.

Another brief smile appeared. “I will work on the gown first, along with some blouses and vests for you as they are far quicker to tailor than pants.” She started to put the journal down on the table when she halted. “Do you prefer breeches or tights? But before you answer, I am currently wearing tights.” She plucked out the black material. “They are almost as thick as breeches and as durable, but far more comfortable and soft. Feel them for yourself.”

I reached out, brushing my fingers across the surprisingly supple feel. “I would’ve thought they were breeches. The tights I’m accustomed to are far thinner.”

“And questionably opaque,” she added, and I nodded. “Which is why I spent an obscene amount of time going through fabrics to find something as efficient as breeches. You would think with all the tailors and seamstresses in all the kingdoms, they would’ve improved the functionality of tights. Not that there is anything wrong with breeches, but I, myself, prefer a waistband that doesn’t leave marks in my skin.”

I grinned. “Tights then.”

“Perfect.” She hopped onto the stool once more.

As she slid the tape beneath my arms to measure my chest, I once again thought of what Rhahar and Bele had shared. If word of Ash choosing a mortal as his Consort had spread to the other Courts, wouldn’t the people of Lethe have heard?

And what did they think?

I told myself I didn’t care because it wouldn’t matter. I would be no true Consort. My responsibilities lay with Lasania. I was their Queen, even if I never wore the crown. But I asked anyway because I…well, I couldn’t help myself.

“They have heard of you.” Erlina left the stool to write the numbers down. “Of course, many are curious. I do not think anyone expected His Highness to take a mortal as his Consort.”

“Understandable.”

“But they are excited. Thrilled may be a better word. And honored,” Erlina quickly added, a faint hint of pink staining her sandy, golden-brown cheeks. She held the book to her chest. “There are a lot of mortals in Lethe,” she explained, surprising me yet again. “For His Highness to take a mortal feels like…an acknowledgment to many of us. Like even though he is a Primal, he sees us as his equals, and there…well, there are not many like him. Many cannot wait to officially meet you.”

I felt a strange flip in my chest and nodded. I didn’t want to think about Ash viewing mortals as his equals. Not because it seemed ridiculous but because I thought that it was true.

I cleared my throat. “And they’re thrilled that he is marrying?”

“Of course.” A wider smile raced across her features. “We want to see him living—see him happy.”

My stomach plummeted fast as I stood there. “The people of the Shadowlands…they respect him?”

There was a pinch to the slash of her brows and then a flash of understanding. “It must be hard believing that we have grown quite fond of the Primal of Death. Before I came to the Shadowlands, I would’ve laughed at the idea of such a thing, but…” A shadow crossed her features as she ducked her chin, coming to stand beside me. “But there were a lot of things I didn’t know then. Anyway, His Highness is loyal to us.” Her deep brown eyes met mine. “And we are loyal to him.”

Many questions rose in response to what she shared, as did the bubbling sense of unease that settled in the center of my chest. “Where…where I am from, not many respected the Crown. They didn’t have reason to.”

She drew the tape around my waist. “Where are you from?” I asked.

She shifted the tape to my hips. “Terra.”

I didn’t know much about Terra except that it consisted mostly of farmlands with not nearly as many cities as Lasania. “Have you lived here long?”

“I suppose it depends on what one considers long,” she answered, moving away to capture the measurements. “I left the mortal realm when I was eighteen, but I did not come to the Shadowlands until I was closer to nineteen. I’ve been here ever since, so that would be...thirteen years.”

“Where were you before you came here?”

She knelt, stretching the tape the length of my leg. “The Court of Dalos.”

My eyes widened. “You were at the City of the Gods? With the Primal of Life? I didn’t know there were mortals there—I mean, besides the Chosen.”

“There aren’t,” she stated, stilling for a moment. “At least, not when I was there.”

Confusion swirled through me as the cool tape pressed against the inside of my thigh. “Then how did you…?” I trailed off.

“I was Chosen.”

I stared down at her, struck silent for a moment. “Was?”

Erlina nodded.

“And you’re not anymore? You didn’t Ascend?”

A twist of a tight smile appeared. “I did not Ascend, thank the gods.”

My lips parted, and immediately, I thought of Ash’s reaction when I mentioned the Chosen’s Ascension. He hadn’t shared something then, that much was clear. “I have so many questions.”

She halted, looking up at me, her eyes wide. For a brief second, I thought I saw fear in her gaze. Terror. A long moment passed, and then she moved on to my other leg, measuring the inseam. She said nothing more as she finished up and only spoke again to ask what colors I preferred. Erlina left shortly after, hurrying from the chamber as if it were filled with spirits.

I slid my arms through the robe, absolutely bewildered by what she’d shared—what she obviously wouldn’t elaborate on. I’d just finished tying the sash when a knock sounded on the bedchamber door. “Yes?” I called out.

The door opened to reveal Ash. That odd whooshing sensation swept through my chest again at the sight of him. He wore the dark clothing with the silver trim as he’d done while holding court. His reddish-brown hair was pulled back to the nape of his neck, giving the harsh beauty of his features a blade-sharp edge.

I hadn’t seen him since I’d fallen asleep. Beside him. Was that why I felt a flush invading my skin?

Ash had halted just inside the door, his silver gaze fixed on me—on where my fingers were still twisted around the sash. I saw a quick swirl of eather in his eyes, and then he moved, closing the door behind him. “I saw that Erlina just left. I thought I’d check on you, see how things went.”

Check on me?

Why would he do that? Or was that just something normal people did? I had no idea, and I also didn’t know why him doing that made my chest feel funny. I snapped out of my stupor. “Everything went fine.”

“Good.”

I nodded.

Ash stood there, and so did I, neither of us speaking. In the back of my mind, I knew that this was the perfect opportunity to strengthen his attraction to me. I wore nothing but scraps of lace under the robe. I could loosen the tie, let it fall open. Asking about what Erlina had shared would do very little to further my cause.

But I wanted to understand how a Chosen had ended up in the Shadowlands. “Erlina was a Chosen.”

The change in his features was swift and striking. His jaw hardened, and his lips thinned.

“She didn’t tell me much beyond that,” I said quickly, not wanting her to possibly get into trouble. “Why didn’t she Ascend?”

Tension bracketed his mouth. “Is that what mortals believe still happens to the Chosen?”

I stiffened. “Yes. That’s what we’ve been taught. That’s what the Chosen spend their lives preparing for—their Rite and Ascension. They serve the gods for all time.”

“They don’t,” Ash stated flatly. “What you know of the Rite and the Chosen is nothing but a lie.” A muscle ticked along Ash’s jaw. “The Rite you celebrate—the one you hold feasts and parties in honor of? You’re celebrating what will ultimately be the death of most of them. It wasn’t always that way. At one time, the Chosen were Ascended. They did serve the gods. But that is not what it is now, and it hasn’t been for a very long time.”

A coldness seeped into my skin. “I don’t understand.”

“No Chosen has been Ascended in several hundred years.” Ash’s eyes were the color of the Shadowlands sky. “From the moment a Chosen arrives in Iliseeum, they are treated as objects to be used and given away, toyed with and eventually broken.”

Horror swept through me as I stared at him. A huge part of me simply dove into denial. I couldn’t believe it.

I couldn’t…gods, I couldn’t comprehend that. Couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that these men and women who’d spent their lives in the mortal realm, veiled and groomed to serve the gods in one form or another, were taken from the mortal realm only to be killed. The smile of the young male Chosen formed in my mind. It had been so wide. Real and eager.

 And there had to be thousands of Chosen like him. Thousands.

“Why?” I whispered, my stomach roiling as I sat on the settee.

“Why not?”

I sucked in air that went nowhere. “That is not a good enough answer.”

“I agree.” His eyes swirled slowly.

“Then why are the Chosen taken if not to be Ascended so they may serve the Primal of Life and the gods?”

“I do not know why the Rite is still held,” he said, and I wasn’t sure I believed him. “But they do serve the gods, Sera. They serve at their whims. And many of those gods do what they want with the Chosen, because they can. Because for some of them, that is all they know. That’s not an excuse. At all. But as long as mortals continue the Rite, more Chosen will meet the same fate.”

Red-hot anger whipped through me, and I was on my feet before I even realized it. “Mortals continue the Rite because the gods ask that of us. Because we are told that the Chosen will serve the gods. You speak as if this is our fault. As if we have the ability to tell the gods—a Primal—no.”

“I do not think that it’s the mortals’ fault,” he corrected.

My hands opened and closed at my sides as I took a step back. I turned away from Ash before I did something reckless. Like pick up the low-to-the-ground table and throw it at him. I crossed the bedchamber, stopping at the balcony doors. Did Kolis not know this was happening? Or did he not care? I glanced down at my hands. I couldn’t believe that he wouldn’t care. He was the Primal of Life.

But how could he be unaware? He was the most powerful of all the Primals. The King of Gods.

“How is this allowed by the King of Gods?” I asked, the image of him in the Sun Temple forming. You, Chosen, are worthy. I shuddered.

“Why would you think it is disallowed? Simply because he’s the Primal of Life?” A sharpness entered his tone. “You believe he cares?”

I turned to him. Nothing could be gleaned from his expression. “Yes. I would believe that.”

An eyebrow rose. “Then you know even less about Primals than I believed.”

My heart thumped in my chest. “Are you really suggesting that Kolis is okay with the Chosen being brutalized?”

His icy stare met mine. “I wouldn’t dare suggest that your Primal of Life could be so cruel.”

A wave of prickly anger swept through me. “Why would he allow that? Why would anyone do that?” I remembered what Aios had said. “It can’t be because they lived so long that this is the only way they find pleasure or entertainment.”

“I couldn’t answer that question—to even begin to tell you that it is due to losing humanity or simply because they view mortals as something beneath them. I don’t know what corrupts and festers the mind that ultimately allows that type of behavior to occur. I don’t know how anyone finds pleasure in the pain and humiliation of others.” Ash had drifted closer. “I almost wish you hadn’t learned this. At least, not yet. Some things are better left unknown.”

“For the ones not involved, maybe. But for the Chosen? Their families? They’re taught that it is an honor. People wish they were Chosen, Ash. How is that right?”

“It’s not.”

“It has to be stopped,” I said. “The Rite. The whole act of being Chosen. It has to be.”

Something akin to pride filled his eyes, but it was gone so quickly, I couldn’t be sure. “And how would you propose doing that? Do you think mortals would believe it if they were told the truth?”

“Probably not if it came from another mortal.” I didn’t even have to think about that. “But they’d believe a god. They’d believe a Primal.”

“Do you think they’d believe the Primal of Death?”

I snapped my mouth shut.

“Even if another Primal came to them and showed them what really happened, there would be resistance. It is far easier to be lied to than it is to acknowledge that you have been lied to.”

I stared at him, taking in the cold lines and angles of his face. There was truth in those words. A sad, harsh one. “What do you do about this?”

His eyes searched mine. “I don’t stand by and do nothing, even if it may appear that way. That is how I prefer it.” Wisps of eather crackled along his irises. “That is how I keep people like Erlina alive.”

“You…you saved her? Brought her here?”

“I’ve only hidden her away. Like I’ve done for other Chosen. I try to get as many as I can without drawing attention,” he said, darkness gathering under his skin.

Only hidden her away? As if that were nothing. But was it enough? The answer was no. Thousands had been Chosen over the years. But it was something.

“Is it still dangerous for them?” I asked. “Other gods enter Lethe. Could they be recognized?”

“There is always a risk that someone who recognizes them will see them. They know that.” A muscle flexed in his jaw as his gaze shifted to the empty fireplace. “We’ve been mostly lucky.”

“Mostly,” I repeated softly, and I thought of the woman who’d gone missing and how reluctant Ector had been to speak about her. “Is the woman who went missing a Chosen? Gemma?”

His iron-hued eyes swept to mine. “She is.”

“And she hasn’t been found?”

“Not yet.”

My heart turned over heavily. “Do you think her disappearance is related to a god possibly recognizing her as a Chosen?”

“I believe it is related in some way, whether she was recognized or saw a god she knew and chose to go missing.”

Meaning it was possible that this Gemma had seen a god that would’ve recognized her, and was so afraid she’d panicked. “Where could she have gone?”

“To one side of Lethe is the bay. The Red Woods borders the southern side, and the Dying Woods surrounds the western and northern sides. I’ve had guards searching the woods, but if she went in there…”

He didn’t need to finish. If Gemma had gone into the woods, it was unlikely that she survived. I still didn’t believe a single drop of my blood had drawn those entombed gods aboveground. But even if she didn’t raise them, there were still the Shades and possibly even Hunters. Chosen were trained in self-defense. Not as extensively as I was, but they knew how to wield a weapon. Still, I doubted it would be enough.

I could only imagine what Gemma had faced as a Chosen that had caused her to take that kind of risk. Anger and disgust sat heavy on my chest along with a hefty helping of denial. I shook my head. “A part of me doesn’t want to believe any of this,” I admitted. “I do, but it’s just…”

Ash watched me closely as if he were trying to figure something out. “I don’t know why any of this comes as a surprise to you.”

I looked up at him. “How could it not?”

“Do you think mortals are the only ones capable of brutality? Of hurting others for no reason other than the fact they can? Manipulating and abusing others? The Primals and gods are capable of the same. Capable of much worse out of anger, boredom, or for entertainment and self-serving pleasure. Whatever your imagination can conjure will not even begin to encompass what we are capable of.”

What we are capable of? I looked away, pressing my lips together. He’d included himself in that statement, but he was trying to save the Chosen. He wasn’t capable of that. And I was here to kill him. What would happen to the Chosen then? Even if he were only able to save a small percentage of them.

Gods.

My chest seized. I couldn’t think about them. I couldn’t think about what could happen when I knew what would happen to the people of Lasania if I didn’t see this through. I swallowed hard. “You said this happens to most of them. Other than the ones you’ve hidden away, have some survived?”

“From what I could learn from those who help move the Chosen and find them some semblance of safety, some of the Chosen have disappeared.”

“What does that mean? They can’t simply just disappear.”

“But they do.” He met my stare. “There are no signs that they’ve been killed, but many are never seen or heard from again. They are simply gone.”