Текст книги "Born of Blood and Ash"

Автор книги: Jennifer L. Armentrout

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 63 страниц)

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 cannot sit by and do nothing while we wait to see how Kolis will respond,” his twin finished.

“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 planning a war. I’m not a strategist, and I’m far better suited to fighting than this.” Anxiety rose, but I focused on what Ash had said yesterday. I wasn’t alone in this. “So, I’m going to be honest here. I don’t know the correct answer, nor will I pretend I do. I’m sure that’s not very reassuring, but it’s the truth.”

“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 tyrannical. Traditionalist or not, there was no way he would want to continue supporting Kolis.

“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.

“Wow.” And here I thought my mother was a bad Queen. “Do I even want to know how bad the cesspool that is Veses’ Court is?”

“Veses rules like Embris one day and Phanos the next,” Ash said. “Her Court is as bad as Hanan’s was.”

Bele sighed.

“No pockets of…goodness?” I asked. “How is that possible?”

“All who had an ounce of morality in them are here.” Rhain shook his head. “The same with Kyn’s Court. Those who disagreed either joined Attes or came here.”

“So, you’re telling me that all those who remain in Veses’ and Kyn’s Courts are…what? A lost cause?” I took in the somber expressions. “Seriously?”

“I wouldn’t say they are a complete loss,” Ash stated. “Perhaps some can be reached, but when Kolis first took the embers, switching places with my father, it disturbed the balance. Death ruled over life, and life ruled over death. All Primal power has a good and a bad side to it. And with all the Primals being weakened, it made it far easier for them to succumb to the poisonous sides of their natures,” he reminded me. “And then that poison spread to those who served them and the mortals they interacted with. Most of them are not who they once were or were born into a society that embraces that toxicity.”

“I get that. I do. It’s not really their fault, and blah, blah bullshit. Whatever.” Frustration joined the anger as Bele widened her eyes. “We basically only have two Courts that appear to have any sense of a greater good. Then we have one Primal who really doesn’t seem to care about his Court, as long as it doesn’t cause him trouble. Another who rules so strictly the entire Court has a bedtime and punishment for not adhering to such is—”

“Sometimes death,” Rhahar filled in.

Good fucking gods. “Another Court is pretty much a giant adult party with a dash of murderous tendencies, and two more are just complete garbage fires—”

“Don’t forget my Court,” Bele interrupted. “I have about a hundred good ones in Sirta.”

“My apologies.”

Bele smiled and flicked her wrist. “Accepted.”

“So, we have two decent Courts and one really underperforming Court,” I corrected. Bele’s eyes narrowed as I turned to Ash. “That leaves me with just one question.”

“I truly cannot wait to hear what it will be,” Ash murmured as he eyed me over the rim of his glass.

“Why are we even bothering with these Courts and not just seizing them?”

“Now, that is the Sera I was expecting,” Bele said, and Saion nodded in agreement.

“After seizing them, what would we do?” Ash countered, lowering his glass.

“Put someone else in charge? Like one of them,” I suggested, gesturing at those around the table.

“Uh,” Lailah started.

Ash held up a hand. “I don’t think the Primals who rule over those Courts would take too kindly to that. They would fight back. We might have to kill them.”

“Then I could Ascend another god to take their place,” I countered.

Rhain’s gaze sharpened on me. “Or you could take the Court as your own. The Primal of Life can take a Court. And with the energy going to you, it would lessen the impact of there being no Primal to rule.”

I started to ask how that was even done, but with a tingle in the skin behind my ear, the knowledge came in a flash of images. I frowned slightly. Taking another Court required no ceremonies or words. All I had to do after draining the Primal was take their eather into me before it released. Not that I was complaining. It was just…the process was frighteningly simple.

“But not even Kolis did that,” Rhain added after a moment.

Ash looked over at him.

“Technically,” he corrected. “But having a Primal of Life that just takes on the Primal influence of other Courts doesn’t sound like something you would want to do.”

It wasn’t.

“Not only that, but it is unlikely we could defeat those Courts and Kolis with Attes, Keella, and one really underperforming Court,” Ash pointed out. “Not only do we need as much support as we can get, but you also want things to be different. Would that be any different?”

“No.” I sighed. “I wasn’t being serious.”

Ash’s head tilted as he took a drink.

“Okay.” I rolled my eyes. “I was only being fifty percent serious.”

His lips twitched as he placed his glass on the table. “So, are we in agreement? Summon the Primals?”

Murmurs of approval rose around the table, and I nearly slumped in my chair with relief.

“Then what comes next?” Bele asked.

“I think you will enjoy this answer.” I met Bele’s stare. “We remove Kolis from the throne.”

“Violently?”

“Is there any other option?” Ash replied.

“No.” Bele smiled in a way I should’ve found disturbing but didn’t.

“Exactly how will that be done?” Theon followed up.

“We entomb him,” Ash said.

“That won’t be easy,” Rhain stated.

“We know.” I idly petted Reaver’s head. “But there has to be a way. After all, the Ancients have been entombed for thousands of years.”

Rhahar choked on what he was drinking. “Come again?”

Well, apparently that was something else they weren’t aware of. “Not all the Ancients entered Arcadia or were killed. Some could only be put into the ground. That is why there must be balance—why there must always be life and death.” I then explained what Kolis had been doing with the Chosen—turning them into the Ascended. “That has been working, but I know that at least Kyn was worried it wouldn’t continue to do so. And if balance is not kept, the Ancients will wake.”

Blood drained from Rhain’s face as he sat—or collapsed—back into his chair.

“Do I want to know what would happen then?” Bele said.

“They would finish what they started when the Primals rose against them. Kolis would be the least of everyone’s worries,” I said, keeping my hand on the curve of Reaver’s neck. “Either way, we need to discover how the Ancients were entombed. What worked for them will work on Kolis.”

“Keella is the eldest Primal after Kolis.” Ash drew his fingers over his chin. “We plan to speak with her.”

“So, we entomb Kolis. For what? Thousands of years?” Rhain asked.

“That will ensure the balance is kept,” I said. It finally hit me that could mean we didn’t need to use Sotoria’s soul. Hope sparked. “Nyktos will continue as a Primal of Death, and I as the Primal of Life.”

A crease formed between Ash’s brows. “Or until Sotoria can be used. Her soul could be released once Kolis is safely entombed. And then once she is old enough…” Ash sent those around the table an icy smile. “Then Kolis will be no more.”

Theon smiled tightly. “Now that I like the sound of.”

My gaze lowered to Reaver’s as several cheers of agreement rose. I couldn’t blame them for wanting a future that included a dead Kolis. None of them knew Sotoria. They didn’t know what she had already been through. I looked up, finding Rhain’s gaze on me.

I shifted in my chair and refocused, returning to stroking Reaver’s neck. “So, how do we go about summoning the Primals?” I asked. “I assume it isn’t as easy as sending them a missive.”

“No, it is not.” Ash refilled my glass. “You, as the true Primal of Life, can issue the summons simply by willing it.”

My lips parted at the memory of the painful, reddish-black symbol that had appeared on Ash’s palm when Kolis had summoned us. “I don’t think hurting them is a wise way to start off.”

“It doesn’t have to be painful. What Kolis did was an ability provided by the true embers of death. It’s a death mark,” Ash explained. “But I agree. Forcing them to answer is something Kolis would do. Luckily, there is Attes.”

I raised a brow at that. “Luckily, you say?”

Ash smirked. “Yes. Just this once. He could prove useful and contact the other Primals.”

Attes had already proven himself useful, but I wisely kept that to myself.

Jadis had seemed to grow bored with Bele once the Primal ceased throwing her dagger. She rose now, stretching with a little squeak of a yawn.

Either sharing in Ash’s dislike of the Primal or still harboring distrust toward him, Rhain’s tone was cold as he asked, “And if Attes decides that he’d rather not be useful?”

Ash leaned back, resting the ankle of one long leg on the knee of the other as Jadis’s claws scraped against the table when she crawled forward. “I will convince him that it would be in his best interest to be very useful.”

“Wait.” My hand halted on the back of Reaver’s neck. “As in you’ll go speak with Attes?”

A lock of hair lay against his jaw as he tilted his head. “That would be the plan.”

“I don’t know if that’s wise,” I pointed out, leaning forward to catch Jadis before she fell right off the table.

Reaver lifted his head, eyeing the little one as she mewled, wanting to be on the floor. For his benefit, I placed her on my other side.

“That is exactly why I’m best suited to speak with him,” Ash countered as Jadis immediately scrambled under my chair, causing Reaver to shuffle back. “I’m the last person he wants to piss off.”

I wasn’t so sure about the plan as I tried to keep an eye on the two draken. Jadis had grabbed one of Reaver’s legs—thankfully with a hand and not her mouth. “The last thing we need is you hauling off and punching him.”

“I think that is the very first thing needed.” Ash gave a shadowy smile that frosted his eyes. “Besides, he has it coming and knows it.”

“That isn’t going to help us,” I said, relieved to see Jadis plop down beside Reaver…or half on top of him. She managed to get her head on his back, causing him to peer up at me with resigned exasperation. Poor guy.

“She’s being logical again,” Bele stated. “I’m not sure how I feel about it.”

I shot her an arch look, feeling the awareness of…another draken. But it was different this time. Stronger. In my mind, I saw Nektas. I shook my head, refocusing. “You sound like I normally run around being illogical.”

“Well,” she drawled, her silver eyes dancing with amusement as a large shadow fell over the balcony.

Sending Bele one more look of warning, I focused on Ash. “Then I will go with you.”

“Now, that wouldn’t be wise,” Ash replied, sipping from his glass. “You will remain here.”

His tone and demand stoked my temper like it always did. “You want to know what’s not wise?”

“I’m sure I can guess.” His gaze flicked to me. “You were about to say me making demands of you is unwise.”

“Since you know that, why do you think it’s more unwise for me to go to Attes than you—who wants to skin him alive?”

Bele’s lip curled up on one side. “Thank the Fates, I feel like something very illogical is about to occur—”

“Something illogical always occurs around you, Bele.” Nektas entered through the balcony doors, his long hair resting against his bare shoulders.

Huh.

I had been right about it being him. Had I actually sensed it, or was his presence just a logical conclusion? No. Instinct told me I had sensed it was Nektas.

Eyes that shimmered with ethereal brilliance swept across the table, finding mine. His broad jaw softened with a smile. Stopping behind Theon and Lailah, Nektas placed a fist over his chest and bowed his head and upper body. He spoke in that raspy voice of his. “Meyaah Liessa.”

“She doesn’t like to be called that,” Saion advised.

“I know, but she will allow it of me.” Nektas straightened.

“I will.”

Bele’s lips pursed. “Rude.”

Nektas inclined his head toward Ash and strode around the table. His steps slowed as he spotted his daughter asleep half on top of Reaver. “I hope Jadis hasn’t been too much of a handful?”

I took a drink, raising my brows as several others averted their gazes. Images of Jadis tearing at Ash’s hair and tugging on Lailah’s braids danced in my mind.

“Oh, yeah. She’s been a real peach.” Bele’s tone was as dry as the desert lands near Massene.

“Of course, she has,” Nektas replied with all the confidence of a parent whose child was the apple of their eye. He reached down and scooped up his daughter. She let out a little murmur and wiggled before flopping over his shoulder. He gave her scaled back a tender pat and said, “I feel like I may have walked into the middle of an argument.”

“I would say it’s more of a…heated exchange,” Saion replied.

Raising a brow, Nektas sat on Ash’s other side and leaned back, propping one foot on the table. “About?”

“Sera and I,” Ash said, lifting an arm. A second later, a small ivory blanket shot between Rhain and Saion, coming from somewhere in the chamber. It landed in his hand. “Are not in agreement.”

“As unsurprising as that is,” Nektas began, taking the blanket from Ash and laying it over Jadis, gently tucking it around her wings, “whose side am I supposed to be on?”

“Mine,” Ash and I answered at the same time.

Nektas smirked.

“Ash has suggested using Attes to issue the summons and thinks it’s appropriate for him to speak with Attes, even though he wants to rearrange the Primal’s internal organs,” I explained. “Meanwhile, he thinks I should remain at the palace, polishing the swords or something.”

Rhahar coughed and then took a long swallow of his drink.

“That is not what I expect you to do.” Ash dragged his teeth over his lower lip, sending me a sidelong glance. “I feel rather confident assuming the only thing you would do with a sword is use it.”

“Want to find out?” I suggested with syrupy sweetness.

“Later, when younglings aren’t present,” he replied with a smoky, midnight smile. “I’d love to.”

“Oh, dear,” murmured Bele.

I shot Ash a glare.

He winked.

He actually winked at me before turning his attention back to Nektas. “But I haven’t gotten to the point yet where I explain why it would be wise for her to remain behind.”

“Because she’s newly awakened,” Nektas suggested, jerking his head to the side as Jadis worked a wing free. “And the moment she enters Vathi, her presence would be sensed.”

I opened my mouth.

“Exactly,” Ash confirmed. His teasing smile was gone now. “Kyn will know you are there.”

Hot, prickly anger swept through me, whipping up the essence. “That’s fine by me,” I said as Reaver lifted his head from my leg. “I would love to speak with him.”

Eather lashed through Ash’s eyes as our gazes connected. “As would I, liessa, but as much as it would please me to rearrange his internal organs, we just discussed making no moves until we know who our potential allies may be.”

“We know Kyn isn’t one,” I stated.

“Agreed. But should your first act as Queen be one of violence?” Ash asked.

When it came to Kyn? Yes. But as I tore my gaze from his and focused on the sunlight beyond the balcony doors, I thought about the conversation regarding the entombed gods. Kyn was a different story. But would the other Primals understand that? Or would they view me as just another violent, monstrous ruler?

“Gods, now I’m going to be logical,” Bele said as if it were something contagious. “You are a fledgling Primal, just like me. And you know how much I hated having to lay low, but I did it. I’m still doing it, until there’s no other choice but to take the risk.” Her gaze met mine. “I want nothing more than to take my revenge on Kyn in any way I can, but I know doing so right now is too risky.” She exhaled heavily. “And yeah, I hate having to be logical about it. You may be stronger and stuff, and able to take on Kyn even now, but why risk it over that piece of trash?”

My lips pinched as I sat back. She’d made her point. “Okay. I get it.” I turned to Ash. “But I don’t think you should go alone.”

“I can go with Nyktos,” Lailah offered, drawing a look of ire from her brother and my rabid curiosity. “And make sure they both—”

“Behave?” I suggested. “Like two misbehaving toddlers?”

Now, it was Ash’s eyes that narrowed.

“I wasn’t going to use those exact words.” Lailah rested her clasped hands on the table. “But Attes will be reluctant to allow things to escalate with me there.”

“You have far too much faith in him,” Theon snapped and fisted his hand on the table.

“I can agree with that,” Ash murmured.

“And you never had enough faith in him,” Lailah shot back at Theon. “He’s not like his brother.”

“I can agree with the last part.” I tossed in my two cents, because why not when it felt like the meeting was about ten seconds from descending into chaos?

“Sure, he’s not like Kyn—thank the Fates.” The essence brightened in Theon’s golden eyes. “But he’s no benevolent being. Every time he’s near you, he spends each moment attempting to seduce you.”

I opened my mouth then closed it while Bele and the cousins watched with avid interest. Rhain, however, appeared as if he wished to sink through his chair and maybe even the floor.

“That’s not true,” Lailah hissed, her eyes turning luminous. “And do we really think this is an appropriate conversation to be having right now? On second thought…ever?”

“We have no problem with it,” Saion remarked. “Please, continue.”

Propping his elbow on the arm of his chair, Rhain drew his fingers over his brow with a sigh.

“Lailah is welcome to join me if she wishes,” Ash cut in. “And while she makes sure I behave, I will do the same when it comes to Attes.”

My head just about spun off my shoulders as I turned to him. “You will only do that if that is what Lailah wants.”

“Of course. If that is what she wants,” Ash amended. “Which I imagine she would, considering how levelheaded she normally is.”

Sitting back, Theon huffed as he crossed his arms. “Yeah, real levelheaded when it comes—”

“I swear to the Fates, if you finish that statement,” Lailah warned, “I will knock you from that very chair and into the Abyss.”

Theon’s jaw clamped shut so tightly I almost expected him to snap his fangs in half.

“So, it’s decided?” Rhain dropped his hand onto the table. “Ash will speak with Attes to summon the other Primals.”

Those at the table nodded in agreement. Even Reaver.

“We’ll want to ensure Attes is in Essaly first,” Rhain suggested.

“Essaly?” I questioned.

“It’s a city in the northernmost portion of Vathi. Where Attes resides. You were there briefly,” he reminded me.

At once, my mind conjured up the memory of rolling hills covered with lush pines, snowcapped mountains, and an ivory-hued Rise. I had been there when I’d brought Thad, the young draken Kolis had forced me to kill, back to life.

“He’s likely at his residence.” Nektas smoothed a hand over Jadis’s back. “But we can have Ehthawn check first.”

“I want him to wait until nightfall,” Ash said. “In case any of Kyn’s draken are in the sky. If Attes is home, I’ll leave in the morning.”

I felt my stomach drop a little. I knew that Kyn wouldn’t sense Ash unless he was in his lands, but I still worried for Ash and Lailah. “What if Kyn learns of your arrival?”

“I will not engage.” His fingers drummed on the arm of the chair.

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” I forced my voice to level. “What if Kyn wants to engage?”

“I’ll back Ash and Lailah up,” Nektas decided. “With me and the draken loyal to Attes, he won’t be idiotic enough to come near Essaly.”

Hearing that was a relief, but I wasn’t sure about Kyn not being idiotic enough.

“There’s one more thing I didn’t get to,” Rhain added. “What you said about wanting those who have come to Lethe to have shelter?” He glanced between Ash and me, and then his chest rose with a deep breath. “I think it’s important that they hear that from you—both of you.”

“You mean like doing a public address?” I asked, my heart kicking against my ribs.

Rhain nodded.

My stomach twisted sharply at the mere thought of going before so many people. Walking the aisle during my coronation had been hard enough, knowing that everyone saw me.

“I can handle that,” Ash said, drawing my gaze.

“You can, of course.” Rhain paused. “But those who have come here have done so to see her. And they have done so at great risk.”

“And we are honored that they took that risk.” Ash’s tone had cooled. “I can convey that—”

“No,” I interrupted. My chest tightened even as my heart filled with warmth. I knew what Ash was doing. He’d likely picked up on my rising anxiety. He was protecting me. Seeking to ensure I didn’t get overwhelmed. While I was not the kind of person who gave speeches, and just thinking about it made me break into a too-hot sweat, I needed to get over myself. “We can convey that.”