Текст книги "Born of Blood and Ash"

Автор книги: Jennifer L. Armentrout

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 63 страниц)

“It’s not necessary for you to do this,” Ash insisted.

“But it is,” I said. “The people risked their lives to come here for us—”

“For you,” Nektas interjected, shifting Jadis higher on his chest. “No offense,” he said, directed at Ash.

“None taken,” Ash replied dryly.

“But sooner or later, they’ll start showing up here to see her,” Nektas continued.

Ash didn’t look thrilled with the prospect.

“Going before them and letting them know is the very least I can do, and I need to do this,” I added quickly, seeing his jaw harden. “Look, speaking and being all queenly in front of an entire city makes me want to barf.”

“Ew,” Bele muttered.

I ignored her. “But they need to see and hear me. If I can’t do that?” My face began to warm. “How will I be able to convince the Primals to support us or handle the ones that don’t?”

A muscle started ticking along Ash’s jaw as he held my gaze.

“She has a point,” Rhahar said.

Another moment passed with Ash’s gaze holding mine. “Are you sure?”

“I am.”

He exhaled heavily and then nodded. “Okay.”

I smiled at him. “Thank you.”

He gave me a small shake of his head, and I could tell that he was still concerned about me getting overwhelmed.

“When do you suggest we address the people?” I asked Rhain.

“I would say as soon as possible,” he said, looking between Ash and me.

Concern blossomed. “Are people worried they’re not welcome?”

“No,” Rhain was quick to assure me. “There is just some general nervousness. Many have been through a lot, and even those who were aware of you don’t entirely know what to expect.”

I nodded slowly, thinking it over. “Summoning the Primals is important, but I think assuring the people that they are safe and welcome here is a priority. It’s something I doubt Kolis would do.”

“You can count on that being correct,” Bele commented.

Ash shifted in his chair. “How long would it take for the City Hall to be secured and prepared for such an address?”

Theon looked at his sister. “What do you think? I’ll be in the Bonelands.”

After a moment, she said, “Tomorrow afternoon would be the earliest. It would be tight, but doable.”

I looked at Ash. “Can we postpone going to Vathi until the day after?”

“We can.”

My stomach twisted and dropped but I pushed past it. “Then we’ll address the people of Lethe tomorrow and then speak with Attes.”

“Sounds like we have a plan,” Ash said, glancing across the table at Rhain. “See to it.”

Exhaling slowly, I nodded as I looked around the table, hoping we—I—were making all the right decisions. I felt it was right when it came to prioritizing speaking with the people of Lethe, but everything else? Despite my instinct being more aligned with Bele’s strike-first mentality, I did believe that being cautious was the way to go.

But if I was wrong?

Blood would flow.

“It’s called the Valley of Blood,” Ash said. “The Red River used to run through here and, according to my father, was once as wide as an ocean. But long before I was even born, it began to thin out. What you’re seeing is the old riverbed.”

Seated astride Odin, my hand tightened around Ash’s arm. I could easily see where the valley, nestled between the city of Lethe and another sweeping wall of shadowstone, had gotten its name. The land, all but what appeared to be large, jagged outcroppings of shadowstone, was stained red. While that alone was shocking, it wasn’t what caused my lips to part. Nor was it the snowcapped mountains of Vathi that I could see in the distance. It was what occupied the crimson valley below.

After the meeting, I’d asked about the Shadowlands’ forces—how many we had, how they were trained…

Instead of giving a vague answer as Ash had done in the past, he’d offered to show me. There was no wild dash through the Dying Woods like the last time I’d been this close to Lethe. We’d left through the Rise gates, joined by Rhain and Lailah, and I saw that the once-bent, crooked trees that crowded the shadowstone wall had sprouted buds and even small, glossy leaves. As we traveled, I spotted tiny white flowers in some of the burgeoning meadows. There was green everywhere I looked—so much more than just a day before.

That was until we neared the Dying Woods. They had remained as such, heavily shadowed and even more somber. My skin crawled as we skirted them, traveling a narrow path along the bluffs. I’d seen the gray, shadowy forms of the Shades moving in and out of the dead trees several times. Eather had pressed against my skin upon seeing the souls who refused to pass through the Pillars of Asphodel out of fear of judgment for their sins while alive. It was almost as if they were tracking us.

Tracking me.

I’d exhaled the moment we cleared the Dying Woods, and the Black Bay, along with the tall Rise surrounding Lethe, appeared. I wasn’t looking forward to passing them again, and I wasn’t exactly sure why, beyond the fact that the Shades were incredibly creepy. But thoughts of Shades fell to the wayside as the path we traveled diverged from the fortified city, followed the widening contour of the bluff, and opened to the valley.

Rows of squat, one-story buildings faced the Black Bay, built in a semi-circle. There had to be hundreds of what looked to be dormitories. Towers flanked them, taller than the Rise, and clearly used to keep an eye on what lay to the south and the east. My gaze shifted northward to where an utter sea of soldiers dressed in black and red trained. It would be hard to pick them out from the environment from a distance, but I saw them. All of them.

“How many are there?” I asked.

“Approximately forty-two thousand,” Ash answered.

“Forty-two thousand?” I whispered.

“I know that sounds like a lot.” Ash’s thumb traced an idle circle on the flare of my hip.

“It’s not?” I glanced over my shoulder at him. “Lasania only had about half that.”

“And Vathi has three times that number, equally spread between Attes and Kyn,” Rhain commented, his head tilting. In the sunlight, his hair was a burnished auburn.

“Oh.” I swallowed as I watched what appeared to be archery training.

“And they have far more gods than we do,” Lailah chimed in.

I looked to where she sat upon a deep chestnut horse. “How many do we have?”

“About forty percent of our army are gods,” she said, shifting on her saddle. “The remaining numbers consist of godlings and mortals.”

Mortals.

My gaze shifted back to the valley. Several of those who had been working with swords had stopped and clustered together. They had clearly noticed us.

“They volunteered,” Ash stated. “And they know the risks.”

“They are the bravest among them,” Lailah added, pride filling her voice. “But they are far easier to wound and kill, which I’m sure you’re thinking about. Because of that, most are auxiliary units of longbowmen, trained on foot and horseback.”

Archers. “Makes sense.” I toyed with the edge of a fang with the tip of my tongue, thinking about what I’d seen when Kolis had brought me to the rooftop of the Sanctuary. “I never saw any soldiers while I was in Dalos, unless the guards pull double duty.”

“For some of the Courts, the guards and soldiers are one and the same, but you wouldn’t have seen soldiers like these there,” Ash said. “Dalos does not have its own army.”

“What?” I exclaimed, surprised as Ash looked down at me. Then I got it. “Because the Primal of Life has the armies of all the Courts.”

“Supposed to.” His gaze shifted to the soldiers below. “That is how it has been since my father. Not even Kolis openly defies that rule.”

“But that doesn’t mean he follows it.”

Ash nodded. “I imagine his creations make up a portion of his defenses.”

I thought that over. “I’m sure his creations serve a dual purpose—continuation of the balance and as defense. But the ones he calls the Ascended? They can move about during the day—I saw them in the atrium of Cor Palace—but they cannot go out in the sunlight. That’s a weakness. But the Revenants?”

“They will be a problem,” Ash stated.

“Revenants can be momentarily killed, and based on what I saw, the type of wound determines exactly how long they stay down,” I shared. “But it’s not that long. I got Callum under the chin, and within fifteen minutes or so, he was back on his feet.”

“Most wounds inflicted in battle are to the head or chest.” Lailah’s forehead creased. “Quick strikes. Not to say there aren’t ones that do more bodily damage.”

“But on the whole, those are injuries a Revenant would quickly recover from.” My gaze shifted to the snowcapped mountains. “What about the other Courts?” I asked, my attention snagged by those training on horseback. They, too, had slowed or stopped.

“Hard to tell for sure,” she said. “Many of the Primals keep their true numbers hidden.”

“But you have guesses?”

“We do.” She sent me a quick grin. “But first, I think you’re about to experience something I have a feeling will make you uncomfortable.”

Bewilderment surged. “What do you mean?”

“Look down into the valley,” Ash urged.

I did as he instructed and locked up.

On the field below, all the soldiers had stopped, and those on horseback had dismounted. They stood in endless rows, facing us.

“What…what is happening?” I asked.

“They’re about to do your new favorite thing,” Ash said, his voice heavy with amusement.

My eyes went wide. “They don’t—”

The soldiers kneeled, row after row of them in a wave that stretched the valley, one hand on their chests, and the other on the ground. My lips parted as I took them in.

I jumped when a loud thump echoed through the valley. The soldiers were slamming their palms against the packed ground, over and over, until the valley was filled with the sound.

“This is different,” Ash said, speaking into my ear. “They are not just paying homage to their Queen. They are telling you that they are yours, and that, if it comes down to it, they will go to war for you.”

My breath caught. “For us.”

His lips brushed my cheek. “For us.”

Then the pounding stilled, and silence came. Their heads lifted. They waited.

“I…I don’t know what to do,” I admitted, my cheeks warming. “Yelling to them that they may rise doesn’t seem fitting.”

Ash chuckled. “You can just lift a hand.”

“Oh.” That was far easier. I raised my hand and then gave a little wave because holding it still felt awkward.

It worked, though.

The soldiers rose, and after a few moments, they returned to their training. Seeing thousands of people I’d never spoken to, had likely never even crossed paths with, willing to go to war for me—for us? It rattled me.

“So, about the armies,” Lailah said as Ash gently took hold of my still-raised hand and lowered it. “Phanos has the second-largest army. Around forty-five thousand.”

All thoughts of awkward displays of loyalty fell away. My stomach dipped. “And what type of soldiers does he have?”

“Mostly those on two feet,” Ash answered, gently squeezing my hip. “But he rules the seas with the ceeren.”

I felt my heart clench at thoughts of more ceeren dying.

“Among other things,” Rhain muttered under his breath but continued before I could question that. “Embris has slightly less than we do. About forty thousand.”

Lailah straightened the strap of her baldric. “With the exception of Bele’s, the rest of the Courts have about five thousand.”

I nodded, running my hand over Odin’s glossy mane. “Do we have any idea how many Cimmerian Kyn has?”

“No more than a thousand,” Rhain answered. “And that likely includes those who returned to Vathi after Bele’s Ascension.”

That surprised me. “I would’ve thought there’d be more.”

“Lucky for us,” Ash drawled, “the Cimmerian’s love of fighting equals a very short lifespan.”

I snorted at his comment. A thousand senturion warriors that could summon the night to cloak themselves in battle was still a problem.

“Any Court that wants to move their armies against us would have to do so by foot,” Lailah shared. “And none of the Courts are likely to give such permission because it could be perceived as a pronouncement of their loyalties.”

I considered that. “So, any Court outside Vathi will have to travel the Lassa Sea, which is good news since we would see them.”

“Except for the Thyia Plains,” Rhain interjected. “But they cannot cross the Disus—the sea between our Courts and to our north. The waters there are part of the Vale, and as such, protected. Not even Kolis would dare travel those. That leaves the Bonelands.”

“The gods could shadowstep from their ships to land,” Ash said, “but they risk destroying their vessels in the process.”

“True.” Rhain’s lips pursed. “And they would also have to travel the length of the Bonelands with no cleared lands and no roads. If any come, they will do so by the Lassa.”

For now, went unsaid.

“This could all change if a number of Courts decide to support Kolis.” I stated the obvious.

“Yes.” Ash gently squeezed my hip. “It would all change then.”

“If that happens, they will come for us by land, sea, and air,” Lailah said, her brow furrowed. “Fighting a battle on two fronts is not something anyone wants to do—let alone three.”

A sudden awareness echoed through me. I looked at the sky, squinting until I could make out the distant shape of a draken.

“That’s one of ours,” Rhain said, noting where my attention had gone. “They’re patrolling.”

As I watched the draken glide closer, I knew it wasn’t Nektas. It wasn’t as large as him, and the draken didn’t…feel like him. I thought—or perhaps felt—that it was a draken I wasn’t familiar with, which made me think of something. Draken would only attack if the Primal they served was in danger, but instinct told me the rule didn’t necessarily apply to wartime. “What’s the draken situation with the other Courts?”

“Good and bad,” Lailah said. “Which one would you like to hear first?”

“The bad.”

A wry grin appeared. “Kolis has a legion of a dozen,” she said. “Kyn has about ten, as does Embris. The other Courts have five or fewer.”

I frowned. “Those numbers are lower than I expected.”

“The draken go through cycles that last about a century and can only conceive for a few weeks during that time,” Rhain explained, watching the soldiers on the field. “And from what I can gather, many of the draken have taken active steps to prevent conception since Kolis’s reign began.”

A knot of sadness gathered in my chest because I could understand why they wouldn’t want to bring a youngling into the realm under Kolis’s rule. Look at what he had done to Thad—the young draken who had served Kyn—Nektas’s mate, Halayna; Reaver’s parents…and only the gods knew how many others.

Ash’s chin grazed the top of my head. “Ready for the good news?”

“Yes. Please.”

“We have the most.” Ash dragged his thumb along the crease between my thigh and hip. “Fifteen, not including the younglings. And we have Nektas.”

The skin beneath my ear shivered. “Because…he’s the first.”

“Exactly. Most are not like Davon,” Ash confirmed, referencing Nektas’s now-deceased distant relative. “Or the draken who have always served Kolis. If the others come up against Nektas, they will back down.”

That was good news.

But not nearly enough.

We had Attes, and I was confident that Keella would join us. Maia, as well as Phanos and Embris, were up in the air. Kyn would obviously side with the false King. So would Veses. And if either Phanos or Embris stood with him? Or, worse yet, both?

We would be outnumbered.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“I agree with what Ash said about keeping the address short and to the point,” Rhain said, referencing the discussion we’d had on the way back from the Valley of Blood. “That would limit the probability of something being said that shouldn’t be.”

My brows pulled together as I glanced over Reaver to where Rhain sat on the antechamber couch. Exactly what did he think I would say that I shouldn’t?

“And it also lessens the risks involved with going before so many people,” he continued, looking down at the bound parchment resting in his lap. Jadis had torn off and almost consumed half the pages before Nektas took the little draken outside to play and work off some of her energy before supper.

With the way my knee was bouncing, it should be me out there working off unspent energy.

Reaver lifted his head from the cushion and placed it on my knee, peering up at me as if he had read my mind. I grinned down at him.

“I also think sharing what you did during our meeting would be wise. That it is your decision and choice for the realms not to be ruled by one individual,” he said, drawing my attention to him. “I know we touched on that on the way back here but telling the people that it was your choice is important.”

I nodded, my mind flipping over our prior discussion. Ash and I had decided that we would first assure the people they were welcome and we were doing everything in our power to provide for them, then move on to the whole Queen and King business. We’d decided to tackle that part together during the speech.

“Will I have to walk the aisle again?” I asked.

Rhain looked at me as if he couldn’t believe that was a concern given everything we were discussing, but it was one long-ass aisle. “Do you not want to do that?”

“Not particularly.”

“Okay.” He scribbled something down. “I will announce you and then Ash. Once that is finished, you two can shadowstep onto the dais.”

“Wait. Why would I be announced first? Where I’m from, it’s always the King.”

“That’s because mortals operate in a very patriarchal society.”

“As if this one is any different?” I retorted.

His lips pursed. “You have a good point there, but in this case, it has nothing to do with gender and everything to do with your Primalhood. You are the true Primal of Life, and even when ruling jointly, your Primalhood asserts supremacy. You will be announced first.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound very equal.” I looked down at Reaver. “Does it?”

He chirped, and gods, it was still bizarre to hear his voice in my head. Even if it was one word, which was no.

“Moving on,” Rhain said, sighing. “You two will then take your seats on the thrones.”

I opened my mouth.

“And because I know you’re going to ask why,” he went on, “it is simply tradition.”

“I wasn’t going to ask.”

Rhain sent me a bland look.

“Whatever,” I muttered as Reaver huffed out a laugh.

“During this time, the people will have bowed. You will tell them to rise—and yes, it will be you.”

I was so bored with this conversation I didn’t ask why it had to be me. “Ash mentioned having wine provided for them. Will that be possible?”

“Yes.” Rhain checked off what I could only imagine was annoy Sera from his list. “We have many barrels that can be used for such. Unfortunately, there isn’t enough time to have food prepared.”

“What about this?” Aios’s voice floated out from the narrow hall adjoining the chambers. Gods, she had been going through the wardrobe for so long I’d forgotten she was even here. She appeared, holding a crimson gown draped from a hanger. “It’s really gorgeous, isn’t it?”

My gaze flicked over the dress as I idly stroked the top of Reaver’s head. The gown was beautiful, and the crushed velvet looked soft, but for some reason, the color was a turn-off for me. “It is, but it doesn’t feel right.”

Aios lowered her arm until half the gown pooled on the floor. “This is the fourth gown that doesn’t feel right. You don’t have many more options.”

“I know.” I winced, feeling like I was wasting her time. Which I was, especially considering she had spent the better part of the day assisting with the birth Kye had summoned her for. When she offered to help me find something to wear, I should’ve told her to rest, but I was glad she wanted to help after how our conversation had ended this morning.

Aios eyed me for a moment and then nodded. “I think I know what the problem is. I will be right back.”

I watched her spin on her heel and disappear back down the hall.

“I doubt she will be right back,” Rhain commented as Reaver lifted his head and stretched.

“True.” I leaned back. “Why can’t I just wear what I’m wearing now?”

Rhain appeared positively aghast. “You should dress for the role.”

My lips thinned. “And how should I be dressed?”

He gave me the most unsexual once-over I had ever received in my life. “Not like that.”

“What’s wrong with this?” I glanced down at my vest and black leggings. “Ash has no problem with it.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t,” Rhain replied dryly, earning a confused head tilt from Reaver. “But it’s not appropriate.”

Aios reappeared, holding a dark gray tunic with silver embroidering that matched the design on the throne doors. Immediately drawn to it, I rose and went to her, passing the pillared dais.

Rhain sighed for what had to be the hundredth time. “That’s a tunic.”

“Never would’ve guessed that,” I murmured as I took the lightweight garment from Aios.

“You should wear a gown,” Rhain insisted.

My gaze cut to him as a wave of prickly heat swept over the back of my neck. I knew this was in no way the same as my time in Dalos, and none of the gowns Aios had brought out were even remotely transparent, but my skin still felt itchy and too tight. “A gown is not me,” I said as Reaver launched himself off the couch and came to my side. “This,”—I thrust the tunic out—“is me.”

“Is that you as a Queen?” he countered.

“I don’t see why it can’t be.”

His chest rose with a deep breath, and I suspected another sigh was coming. “Let me ask this… Do Queens in the mortal realm dress as you are now?”

The tunic featured a stiff collar, giving it a more formal appearance. I liked the elbow-length sleeves. “I don’t know every Queen in the mortal realm, but from what I saw, no. You know what I also saw?”

“Hmm?” he asked.

“A Queen who wore pretty silk gowns and glittering jewels.” The image of my mother took form. “And, at the end of the day, she was a terrible Queen.”

“I interact with the people of Lethe often,” Aios said. “I don’t think they will care if she wears a gown or breeches. And to be frank, I think less finery would also serve to show those who do not know her that she is not invested in fancy trappings like some Primals are.”

The sigh came then.

“Plus,” Aios continued, taking the tunic from me and holding it to my shoulders. One side of the garment ended up draped over Reaver’s head, but the back of the top appeared as if it would reach just above my ankles. The front curved elegantly into a V-shape, coming together at the navel to create a flowing and elongated silhouette. “It is nearly as long as a gown and could easily be seen as such.”

“I don’t think anyone would mistake that for a gown.”

Did he not remember what he’d seen me wearing while in Dalos? This was more of a gown than I’d worn there.

“Disagree,” Aios stated, letting me take the tunic again and crossing her arms.

He was quiet for a moment and then stated flatly, “I do hope pants are involved in this attire you must wear.”

“No, I was planning to wear just this.” I raised a brow as I saw his lips twitch. “Was that an actual joke?”

“I would never.” He lowered his gaze, closing the leather folio over the bound parchment. “Anyway, I see the point you’re making—the point both of you are making.”

I sent Aios a grateful look. She gave me a barely noticeable nod, leaving me to wonder if she knew why I didn’t want to wear a gown. She probably did.

“But when it comes to the meeting with the Primals,” Rhain said, “I suggest you consider something different. Those like Embris will expect you to present yourself in a certain way.”

I couldn’t give a barrat’s ass about how Embris expected me to present myself, but Rhain wouldn’t be happy with that answer. “I’ll consider it.”

Rhain eyed me as if he didn’t believe for one second that I would, but I suddenly felt Ash drawing close. The sensation of a dozen birds taking flight filled my chest.

The doors opened moments later, and he entered. His gaze immediately found mine. “I would like some time…” His head tilted as a slight frown appeared. “Is that Reaver under the dress?”

“Ha!” I exclaimed. “Even he thinks it’s a dress.”

Rhain rolled his eyes.

“And yes, it’s Reaver,” I said, and the youngling popped his head out from under the garment. “He’s helping.”

Reaver nodded.

“Well, I hope he’s done helping,” Ash replied. “I would like to speak with my wife before supper.”

My wife.

Those birds turned into giant, carnivorous-but-happy hawks.

“We were just finishing in here.” Rhain rose, and Reaver looked up at me. I nodded, and he lifted into the air.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” Aios said. “I ran into Erlina earlier. She wanted to come see you, but with everything going on, I told her you may be a little busy.”

A bit surprised that the seamstress wanted to see me, a warm glow filled my chest. “The next time she comes by, I would like to see her.”

Aios nodded. “Until tomorrow, then.”

“Wait,” I called as Aios passed Ash. “Will you all be having supper in the dining hall?”

“We normally do,” Rhain answered.

“Since it’s later, Bele and I will likely have our supper here,” Aios said as Reaver hovered by them.

“Can we have supper in the dining hall?” I asked Ash.

“If that is what you’d like,” he said.

“I would.”

Ash turned to Rhain, whose eyes were slightly wide. “When will dinner be ready in the hall?”

He blinked. “In about an hour.”

“We will see you three there then.” Ash turned back to me.

Rhain was still standing there as if stunned. “Let’s go.” Grinning, Aios gave Rhain a light shove. “We need to make sure there are enough chairs in the dining hall.”

“There are more than enough chairs,” Rhain argued as Aios opened the door.

“Let’s double-check,” she suggested, following Reaver out.

“Was it just me, or did Rhain seem really surprised by that request?” I asked after the doors had closed.

“We haven’t joined the others for many suppers,” he said. “And before you, I didn’t do so often.”

Sadly, the last part didn’t surprise me.

Ash plucked the hanger from my grasp and tossed the tunic onto the couch.

“I really don’t need that wrinkled.” I started toward it but didn’t make it very far. Ash snagged me by the waist and turned me back to him. “Rhain will be very displeased if that ends up wrinkled—”

“He’ll get over it.” He tugged me to his chest.

“I’m not so sure about that,” I protested, my gaze lifting to his. The heat in his molten-steel eyes sent fine tremors radiating through my limbs. I immediately stopped thinking about Rhain and the state of the tunic.

Clasping the back of my neck, Ash brought his mouth to mine. I was at once completely enraptured by how he kissed like a man starved and wasn’t aware of what he was up to until he lifted me. His tongue delved deep as he stepped onto the dais and carried me toward the table, setting me down on the edge. I tasted whiskey on his tongue as he deepened the kiss. His fingers traced the outline of my collarbone before moving slowly downward. His touch was electric, sending jolts of pleasure throughout my body.

He nipped my lower lip, then lifted his head from mine. “Why were you surprised that Erlina wanted to see you?”

I sighed. “Was I surprised enough that I projected?”

“You did.” He kissed the corner of my mouth. “Why?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just not used to people wanting to see me,” I admitted, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “That sounds kind of pathetic, doesn’t it?”

“No, liessa, it doesn’t. You grew up not being known by many. Being surprised is understandable.” He drew his fingers down my cheek. “But you should probably start getting used to people wanting to see you.”

I honestly didn’t think I ever would, but I still said, “Yes, sir.”

Chuckling, he planted his hands on either side of my legs. “I noticed something today. You grew incredibly anxious as we rode past the Dying Woods. Did you feel something?”

It took me a moment to think back. I had been nervous, and I hadn’t been that affected before. I wasn’t sure why. Well, that wasn’t necessarily true.

I’d had a feeling.

One that made me think of the Shade I’d touched during my poorly thought-out plan to end Kolis. The creature had been nothing more than smoke and bone, but after a single touch, I’d seen organs and muscles form, almost as if I’d been restoring life to it.

Ash’s chin brushed the curve of my jaw. “Sera?”

“Sorry.” I started to tell him that nothing had disturbed me but stopped myself. Sharing thoughts was important, even the incoherent ones. “I was just thinking about that Shade I touched back when I was in the Dying Woods.”

“Back when you last held a dagger to my throat?”

“Was that the last time?” I asked wryly.

He chuckled. “You’re talking about the one that seemed to regenerate?”

“Yes.” I ran my fingers along his. “I was thinking about how powerful my touch was that it could bring back a Shade, even then. Who knows how long it had been dead?”

“Based on the state of it, I’d say quite some time.” He kissed my jaw. “Likely several decades, if not longer.”

“That’s…kind of creepy.”

“Just be careful when touching dead things.”

A grin tugged at my lips. “That’s possibly the strangest advice ever spoken.”

“Possibly.” Dipping his head, he kissed my cheek. “Is that what made you nervous when we rode past?”

Again, my immediate response was to shrug it off, so I took a moment to put my thoughts into words. “I could feel the essence swelling inside me as we rode past and thought I could see them following us through the trees. I think they may have felt my presence, and I was glad we weren’t going into the woods.” I tipped my head back against his chest. “Because I feared I…I worried I may do something I shouldn’t.”

“Like return life to them?”

Pressing my lips together, I nodded. “What if I still can’t control that?”

“But you have, liessa. More than once.”

“I know, but there have been times when I haven’t.” I thought about what Aios and I had discussed. “Do you know how often your father brought people back?”

Ash was silent for a few moments. “I know my father struggled with that. I also know he used the ability far more in the beginning than he did toward the end,” he said. “When people came to one of his Temples to plead for the return of their loved ones, it was hard for him to ignore it. Especially if the deceased was young and the death unexpected. He would almost always grant those requests.”