Текст книги "Born of Blood and Ash"

Автор книги: Jennifer L. Armentrout

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 63 страниц)

Wondering how I got so damn lucky, I pressed my forehead to his. “I love you,” I whispered. “I love you so very much.”

Ash clasped the back of my head, his fingers curling around the strands of my hair. His lips found mine, and the kiss conveyed those three words with just as much power as if they had been spoken.

“Finish eating,” he said against my lips, and I felt his mouth curve into a smile. “Please.”

My lips twitched as I picked up my fork. In the silence, my mind went back to what we had been talking about before all of that. I pushed another chunk of chicken around my plate, wondering how long the realm would remain quiet. My intuition told me nothing, and without eyes in Dalos, we had no way of knowing.

I suddenly thought about Elias, one of Kolis’s close guards who had been spying for Attes. “Do you think Attes has any other spies in Dalos?”

“I’m sure he does.” Ash speared a sliver of meat. “He came by when you were in stasis, but I didn’t speak with him. Nektas did.”

“Did Nektas say if Attes knew whether Kolis was still in stasis or not?”

“The only thing the Primal mentioned was that Kolis had not been seen in Dalos.”

That could mean anything.

“But I’m sure he’ll be back.” Ash paused. “Unfortunately.”

Ignoring that last part, I hoped Attes returned soon. I wanted to make sure he had the Star diamond somewhere where Kolis nor anyone else could get their hands on it—

I nearly dropped my fork. “That golden, mask-wearing motherfucker.”

“What?” coughed Ash, swallowing.

“Callum.” I pitched forward, rattling the table. “The blond-haired Revenant who is always with Kolis.”

Ash reached for his glass. “What about him?”

“You know how Kolis favors Callum?” When he nodded, I continued. “I couldn’t figure it out at first—why Callum was the only one who was allowed to be alone with me or how he clearly had more leeway with Kolis than anyone else. There were times he would actually disagree with Kolis.”

Ash halted. “If you’re about to tell me that Callum is Kolis’s child…”

“Uh, no.” My lip curled when I thought about how Kolis hadn’t been with anyone since he’d held Sotoria captive. It wasn’t his celibacy that disgusted me. It was the reason behind it. “Callum never believed I was Sotoria. He was adamant that I wasn’t, even after Kolis summoned a goddess from the Thyia Plains,” I said, referencing the Primal Goddess of Rebirth’s Court. “He wanted her to confirm whether what I claimed about being Sotoria was true. She can read memories like Taric could. Her name is Ione. Do you know her?”

The skin between his brows creased. “I know of her. She often accompanies Keella. I didn’t know she had the ability to scour the mind.” His jaw clenched. “Did she look into yours?”

“She did, but she made it as painless as possible,” I quickly told him. “And she lied for me, Ash. She saw the truth and lied.” Worry for the goddess surfaced. “Kolis has to know that now. I hope she’s okay.”

“If she lied to Kolis, she knew what she was doing, and she will likely be smart enough to make herself scarce,” Ash stated. “Callum didn’t believe you were Sotoria, even after that?”

“No, and the reason he didn’t is the same as why he’s so close to Kolis,” I told him. “Callum is Sotoria’s brother.”

Ash choked on his water. “You have got to be joking.”

“I wish I were.” Gods, did I ever. “If you thought things were messed up before? Wait until you hear this.”

“Great,” Ash muttered.

“The day Kolis saw Sotoria on the cliffs and scared her? She was picking flowers for her sister, Anthea. Callum was supposed to be with her but was messing around with someone instead. He felt responsible for her death.” I held up a hand. “Look, I don’t like Callum at all, but he wasn’t responsible for his sister’s death. Kolis was.”

“Agreed.”

“So, Kolis, being possibly the least self-aware being in all the realms, went to Sotoria’s parents to let them know that he’d petitioned Eythos to restore Sotoria’s life.” I watched as Ash captured my hand and brought it to his lips. He pressed a kiss to my palm, then lowered it to my lap as I told him how Callum had asked to be taken to Sotoria so he could apologize, and how that had ended for him when Kolis explained that he couldn’t. “Callum slit his own throat.”

“Fuck.” He exhaled roughly.

“Yeah, and Kolis…” I shook my head. “Gods, I could hear the anguish in his voice when he spoke of holding Sotoria as she died and then did the same with her brother.”

“You sound bothered by that.”

“I was. I am,” I admitted. “What happened to Sotoria and Callum is a tragedy. And back then, Kolis wasn’t who we know today. I’m not saying he was good then,” I tacked on. “Clearly, he had obsessive tendencies and really poor peopling skills.” My cheeks puffed with the breath I blew out. “But I don’t think he was pure evil.”

Ash said nothing to that.

It was understandable. Ash would never see Kolis as anything but who he knew. “Kolis couldn’t allow Callum to die, and he knew Eythos wouldn’t intervene. So, he did what was forbidden.”

Ash inhaled sharply. “He gave life?”

“He used his blood to Ascend Callum, but he’s not a demis,” I said, speaking of the Ascended mortals who don’t carry enough eather in their blood—not like the third sons and daughters. “And he’s not one of the Ascended. He’s not even like the other Revenants. He’s who he was before his death. But the other Revenants? They have no desires—not for blood, food, sleep, or companionship. They are driven only by the need to serve their creator. Kolis. And that is all.”

“That is why death cannot give life. Doing so is a mockery of such—just soulless, reanimated flesh and bone.” Anger tightened the corners of his mouth. “These Revenants sound like a type of Gyrm,” he said, and my lip curled at the mention of the once-mortals who had either willingly entered into eternal servitude upon death to atone for past sins or had given their souls to a god or Primal upon death in exchange for a favor. “But a more improved version.”

“Yeah, I don’t think they’re filled with serpents,” I murmured, shuddering. “Anyway, Kolis sees nothing wrong with it. He thinks being incapable of wanting or feeling anything is freeing.” I turned my head to Ash. “If I hadn’t had embers of life in me, could that have happened when you Ascended me?”

“No. I am a Primal of Death, but I am not true Death. My blood likely would’ve done the same as any other Primal’s,” he said. I didn’t know why that relieved me because it was moot at this point. “Did Kolis ever explain why Callum is different?”

“He said that Eythos once told him that whatever the creator felt at the time shaped the creation.” I rubbed the skin behind my ear. “And he was right. It’s what the creator truly feels—what is real and cannot be forced. And everything Kolis felt when bringing Callum back to life was real—desperation and bitterness.”

My stomach soured. “He even felt joy. But he only felt duty with the others. The only magic involved was that Callum retained something akin to a soul.” My brows knitted. “But creation is a reflection of who and what we are. A mirror of all our best and worst traits. Callum is an echo of who he and Kolis once were. But the other Revenants?”

“They’re an echo of who Kolis is today,” Ash surmised, a muscle along his jaw ticking. “And basically indestructible. But what about Callum? Shouldn’t he be easier to kill if he has something akin to a soul?”

“You’d think, but considering how often I’ve seen him die only to return to life? Even after I did a real number on him?” The satisfaction that came with wiping that smug look from Callum’s face was brief. “I’d say no.”

Ash looked away as he reached across the table to pick up a bottle of wine. He pulled the cork and poured himself a glass and then turned an empty glass upright to pour another. “I want to ask you something.”

“Okay.”

He placed the wineglass near my plate. “When I was being held in the Carcers,” he began, speaking of the mountains west of Dalos, “I was in and out of consciousness. Kolis always managed to be there when I was awake.” He shifted his gaze to the glass he held. “He liked to talk.”

My throat dried.

“He said you tried to escape.”

Dropping my hands to my lap, I nodded. “I did. That’s…that’s when I messed up Callum.”

“How did Kolis handle that?”

“Surprisingly well,” I said. “He actually didn’t seem all that mad.”

Ash’s head slowly turned to me.

“I know. It sounds unbelievable, but he…he wanted so badly to believe I was Sotoria.” I let my head fall back. The lamplight from the chandelier glowed softly as I stared up at it. “I think that kept his temper in check.”

“Most of the time.”

I tensed, briefly closing my eyes. Ash was likely talking about the bruises he’d seen when we walked in each other’s dreams, but my mind went to Kolis’s punishment for when I attempted to intervene on Veses’ behalf.

For the briefest second, I could almost feel the muscles in my arms stretched unbearably.

I opened my eyes. “The bruises you saw when we dreamwalked happened after he took me to Hygeia and summoned Phanos—” I drew in a ragged breath as I saw the reluctance in the Primal God of the Sky, Seas, Earth, and Wind’s eyes flash before me. My throat thickened. “And after the ceeren transferred their essence to me. I saw my chance to kill Kolis—or what I thought was my chance. I grabbed a shadowstone blade and stabbed him.”

“Gods.” Ash drew his other hand over his chin.

“It wasn’t a very well-thought-out plan. His reaction was immediate. I don’t think he even meant to hit me—

“You stabbed me, and I did not strike you, Sera.”

“I know.” I looked him straight on, thinking I likely wouldn’t have faulted Ash if he had reacted in some way to defend himself. After all, I had stabbed him in the chest. Literally. I would’ve done way worse if it had been me…and I’d survived. “I’m not excusing it. I’m just explaining that he has better control of his temper than what is made of him.”

“He had that control because of what you mean to him,” Ash bit out. “You saw a side of him that no one else has seen, at least not in my lifetime.”

I swallowed as nausea crept up my throat. Between my stomach and the dark energy seeping out of Ash and charging the air around me, I really needed to get to the point of why I’d brought this up before I vomited on myself and the table. “All I’m saying is that’s what caused the bruises. And even then, that was it.” But it really wasn’t. He had used compulsion, ensuring that I behaved and could only stand there while—

Nope.

Wasn’t going there.

Feeling Ash’s gaze on me, I forced my thoughts past that. “It didn’t happen when I tried to escape after he brought me back to Dalos. All he did was lecture me. And now, I think it was because my actions reminded him of Sotoria. The whole attempting-to-escape-him thing. How fucked up is that?”

“There are no words to capture how fucked up that is.”

He was so right. “When we were on the beach in Hygeia, I saw what he really looked like—his Primal form.” Tiny goose bumps formed as the dull gleam of Kolis’s bony face appeared in my mind. “I saw true Death.”

Ash had gone completely still, his expression devoid of any emotion. I counted. It took six seconds before he spoke again. “When we were talking before, you said he made you wear revealing clothing?”

“Yeah.”

Those enviable lashes swept down and then lifted. The eather streaking his irises brightened. “What else did he make you do?”

CHAPTER SIX

It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the chamber. My lips parted as my mind began racing, but the stench of stale lilacs returned, choking me and not allowing any words. What else? What else?

Nothing.

That was what I needed to say. Nothing else really happened.

But I could still feel the scrape of Kolis’s fangs against my throat. A shudder slithered its way down my spine, and I jerked my hand away. I took a deep breath and held it, utilizing the breathing techniques Holland had taught me. All I had to do was look around to see that I wasn’t being held captive. I wasn’t in a cage—a gilded cage that no longer even existed. I’d destroyed it. I’d taken Kolis out—if only momentarily. I’d freed Ash from his prison.

Breathe out.

That had been me and my strength—strength fueled by pure rage, terror, and agony.

I knew that, but it felt like a part of me was still locked away where all my rights and freedoms had been stripped away, taking my identity and voice with them. The desperation and helplessness I never wanted to feel again crept in, threatening to soak my skin like rancid water. The rot of those emotions pressed in on me, and in the deafening silence of the chamber, I felt I would drown in them if I wasn’t careful. I wanted to shed those feelings like a serpent discarded its skin, but they lingered like a bad omen.

I’m not there.

I didn’t even understand why I was so affected. I should be able to handle this better. Whether Ash or Kolis, becoming the Primal of Death’s weakness and ending him had been my duty since birth. I’d been trained to fight from the moment I could lift a sword. Groomed to seduce as soon as I became old enough to learn how flesh could become a weapon. I lived the entirety of my life knowing what was expected of me, yet I hadn’t been prepared for Kolis’s volatile mood shifts and twisted sense of honor. His cruelty and manipulation. His obsession. And even his moments of tainted kindness.

I hadn’t been prepared for when he threatened to give me to Kyn, the Primal of Peace and Vengeance, who was nearly as messed up as Kolis was.

What else did he make you do?

I hadn’t been ready to stand by as he turned a Chosen into something neither mortal nor god, but rather a being that hungered for blood. No amount of training had prepared me to pretend to not only be willing to spend time with him but also enjoy it. Breathe in. To see his fake, well-practiced smiles, and worse yet, the real ones whenever I made him happy or he spoke about Sotoria. Hold. Witnessing how he came alive then, finally showing he was capable of feeling something other than malice and self-persecution.

What else did he make you do?

To allow him to sleep beside me. Hold me. Remain still as he fed from me and found pleasure—

“Liessa,” Ash whispered.

The sound of his voice jerked my head back, snapping me out of my thoughts. My gaze flew to his. I had no idea how long I’d been sitting there. Definitely more than a handful of seconds. Had it been minutes? My heart was still pounding.

Reaching between us, Ash gently folded his hand around my wrist and pulled my fingers from my throat.

Dozens of tiny balls of unease settled in my stomach.

There is more.

I knew that.

Ash knew that.

“Talk to me,” he said, so quietly I could almost pretend he hadn’t spoken.

I wanted to run for the balcony doors. A better option was to change the subject slightly, and I knew exactly what to bring up. It was possibly the most important thing we needed to discuss and hadn’t yet.

“There isn’t much to say about any of that.” I cleared my throat as I slipped my hand free of his. “But we do need to talk about Kolis. What are we going to do about him?”

That muscle flexed along Ash’s jaw again as he reached for his glass and drank while I did everything in my power not to squirm.

Did he realize I’d changed the topic on purpose? Of course, he had. But had it angered him? Disappointed him? I didn’t want that. I just couldn’t talk to him about that. Not now. Not when I didn’t even know what to think about it.

After what felt like a small eternity, Ash said, “Discussing how we’re going to remove him from power is something we need to talk about with Lailah and Theon. Even Attes,” he said, surprising me a little that he thought to include the other Primal in, well, anything. “But we do need to be on the same page regarding what to do with Kolis.”

“Agreed.” I relaxed a little. “We know we can’t kill him.”

“Unfortunately, not at this point.”

My thoughts flashed to Sotoria, and my stomach soured. “Nor can we allow him to continue as the false King or the true Primal of Death. So, what does that leave us with?”

“Only one thing.”

My mind immediately went to the Ancients. “We need to entomb him.”

Ash nodded.

I prodded at my fang, thinking that over. “That won’t be easy. Kolis is old. He’s powerful. Capable of healing any wound.”

“Almost any wound,” Ash corrected.

I started to frown, and then it hit me. “Ancient bone—wait. The true Primal of Life and the true Primal of Death can break through those.”

“Yes, but if such a weapon is left in a Primal, it severely weakens them,” he reminded me. “Whatever injuries they incur will not heal while the bone remains in place.”

A chill skated down my spine. “Isn’t that what Attes planned to do when he took Kolis?” When Ash nodded, I continued. “Has that been done before?”

“It has.”

Part of me thought I already knew when and with whom, but I had to ask. “Has he done it to you?”

“Once,” Ash answered flatly. “A few decades ago.”

“Fuck,” I rasped, pressing my hand to the table as eather thrummed hotly inside me. “I want to make Kolis bleed and then dance in his blood.”

Ash’s gaze flicked to mine. “I would love to see that, so let’s ensure it happens.”

I checked my anger before I started destroying more silverware. It wasn’t easy. “We will also need chains made of the bones of the Ancients, won’t we? And I assume there’s not much just lying around.”

“I know Attes has a small stash, but not nearly enough to make chains,” he said. “And there are limitations for using Ancient bones against a Primal. Even leaving it inside them. The ground will seek to restore them, pushing any bone blades from the flesh like a splinter. And roots will eventually crush the bone chains.”

Gods, I hadn’t even thought about how the roots had come out of the ground when I almost pushed myself into an early Ascension. “How long does it take for that to happen?”

“For you or me?” He leaned forward. “Hundreds of years. For a Primal of Kolis’s age? A handful of years. A decade if we’re lucky.”

“Gods.” I sat back, fingers finding their way to my hair. “What about the tombs here?”

“They won’t hold a Primal,” Ash said, watching me. “And there would be a whole other issue with that.”

“What…?” I trailed off as the answer pieced itself together for me. “You still rule the Shadowlands, meaning you receive the summonses at the Pillars and beyond. But if Kolis steps foot in the Shadowlands, he will gain control of the Abyss, the Vale, and all those who serve the Shadowlands, including the draken.”

“Because he’s the true Primal of Death,” he said. “Yes.”

I faced him.

“But he’ll be reluctant to do that. If he comes here, that would leave Dalos vulnerable and open for you to do the same there. As of now, that is the seat of power.”

That was good news. Kind of. “So, we need to figure out how to entomb him and keep him there for longer than a decade.” Or keep him there indefinitely so Sotoria wasn’t needed. That would be the best possible outcome.

There had to be a way to keep him entombed because the– “The Ancients.” I whipped toward Ash. “They’ve been entombed for thousands and thousands of years and are more powerful than a Primal. How are they entombed?”

Ash lowered his glass. “That’s a damn good question. One I’m guessing the vadentia isn’t helping with.”

He was right. My intuition was silent. “But I know who holds that knowledge. The Fates. I also know the likelihood of them telling us is slim to none.”

“But that means the knowledge is out there,” he said. “We just need to find it.”

“Yeah, that’s all.” I laughed. “Should be easy—” I halted again, almost not wanting to suggest what I was about to. “What about the Pools of Divanash?”

“They can only show a person or an object,” he answered. “And if there is an object out there that helped entomb the Ancients, and only the Fates know what it is, it likely won’t reveal that.”

Frustration grew as I twisted my hair around my finger. It shouldn’t be this difficult. And in reality, the Ancients should be helping us.

“There is only one Primal almost as old as Kolis who may know and would have taken an active role in entombing the Ancients, while the others likely weren’t old enough to fight,” he said. “Keella.”

I twisted my hair tighter, hope sparking. There was no guarantee that Keella would have the information, but it was something. “Can we go now? To the Thyia Plains?”

“We can, but I think we should meet with the others first,” he suggested.

“You’re right.”

“Always,” he replied, and I shot him a look. He grinned as he reached between us and pulled my fingers free of my hair. “So, the game plan is to find a way to entomb Kolis. Once we have that information—”

“We have to go after Kolis, which will start a war.”

“I’m afraid that is inevitable,” he stated, refilling our glasses.

So inevitable, it seemed, that Ash had started planning for it by growing and training his armies long before I came to the Shadowlands.

“And how damaging that war is, how costly it becomes, will depend on how big it is. Because it won’t just be us against Kolis,” Ash continued. “It will be us against whoever stands with him, and he will have his loyalists among the gods and Primals.”

“I just don’t get how any Primal could stand with him before and continue to do so now that there is a true Primal of Life.” I shook my head, frustration growing because I did understand how on some level. “But they don’t know me. However, they do know what Kolis is capable of.”

He nodded as my gaze fell to the golden swirl on his left hand. Something occurred to me. “We won’t rule as Kolis has. Obviously. But when your father ruled, did any of the other Primals take part in the decisions that were made?”

“As far as I know, mostly not,” he answered.

“And this included decisions involving other Courts? And the mortal realm?”

“I believe so.” Curiosity filled his expression. “Why are you asking?”

“I don’t know. I’m just thinking. Like, I know things will be different with you being King instead of Consort, but why shouldn’t all the Primals be involved in making major decisions?” I said. “Like officially involved.”

Ash’s head cocked. “Why would you want that?”

“Because no two people, Primal or mortal, should decide everything, especially when it comes to things they have no experience with and others do,” I pointed out. “Power should be shared. That’s what the Ancients did, right? The Ancients shared their power by creating the Primals.”

“Yes,” he said. “Inevitably, it didn’t stop what was to come, but if they hadn’t done what they did, none of us would even be here.”

That was a scary thought.

Ash was quiet for several moments. “There was a kingdom that existed when my father was alive. It was in the west, where Terra exists today, and was ruled by a council of elected officials. I believe it was called the kingdom of Creta.”

“I haven’t heard of that kingdom,” I said.

“Probably because it was a young one full of ideals and people who also believed they should not be ruled by a King and Queen,” he said. “They inevitably collapsed into infighting when no one could agree on anything from common laws to how rent should be collected.”

“Well, that’s disappointing to hear,” I muttered.

“But one failure doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be attempted again.”

I glanced over at him.

“I think the other Primals should be involved in the decisions. It would make them more invested in what occurs outside their Courts and Temples,” Ash continued. “But it won’t be easy.”

“Oh, trust me, I know. My brief interaction with some of the Primals tells me that. But…there could be safeguards in place, you know? If the majority decides something terrible—which, again, based on my interaction with some of them, could happen—a veto power or even a non-Primal could also step in. Actually, why should it just be the Primals? Shouldn’t the draken be involved in decisions?” Excitement grew. “Like Nektas.”

“I doubt he’d sign up for that,” Ash stated.

“Or any draken,” I said, silently adding that it would totally be Nektas. “There are so many better ways to do it.”

“There are.” He paused. “What made you think of that?”

I lifted a shoulder in a shrug. It wasn’t the first time it had crossed my mind. “I just don’t think one or two people should ever rule. And perhaps some of what has happened here wouldn’t have occurred if the other Primals were more invested in the decision-making.”

A faint smile appeared on his lips. “And you think you wouldn’t make a good Queen.”

“Shut up,” I mumbled, my face warming because I could clearly hear the pride in his voice. “Anyway, I brought this up because, as we said, the other Primals don’t know what it will be like if we rule. They don’t know that it can be better. So, why don’t we convince them?”

His gaze sharpened. “You’re talking about summoning the Primals.”

It was a bold move. One that could pay off or end in disaster, and my mind immediately wanted to travel down the darker road, telling me that it would be impossible to convince most of the Primals that we would be a better option than the false King. Because some would only see me and choose to remain loyal to Kolis, simply because I was once mortal. Because I am a woman. Because the last time some of them saw me, I was dressed in transparent gowns and seated at Kolis’s feet. Because—

Stop.

I took a deep breath to ease the tightening in my chest and nodded. “But not Veses or Kyn. I have no interest in convincing them of anything.”

“Neither do I.” Ash reached over and brushed a stray curl back. “I think we need to go over this with the Shadowlands gods, but if we can get the other Primals to side with us, taking Kolis down will be far easier.” He fell quiet for a moment, eyeing me. “I must admit, I’m surprised.”

“By what?”

“You.” He reached for the bottle of wine and refilled his glass. “I didn’t expect your response for how to handle Kolis to be so…measured.”

“Me neither,” I said. “It feels weird to be the practical one in a situation. Honestly, I don’t like it.”

Ash let out a low laugh. “Welcome to my world.”

I cracked a grin. “Is it a bad thing? To be measured?”

“No.” His head tilted. “It’s just that I expected you to be more of the attack-first-and-then-think-about-it type.”

“Well, that is my initial instinct,” I admitted, thinking back to when I’d stood in the bathing chamber. “To go straight to Dalos and take out anyone who stands in our way.”

“And why aren’t we doing that?”

“Because that would be rash and impulsive. It’s not really a plan. And…” I set my glass down, unsure how to put what I was thinking into words. “And it just seems like it would be a monstrous act.”

“I see,” he said, leaning back. “What happened with the riders has really gotten under your skin.”

There was no point in denying that. “I haven’t forgotten what we spoke about this morning.”

“You just don’t believe what I said to you about being a monster.”

“No, that’s not it,” I was quick to say. “I do believe it. I know I’m not like Kolis or Kyn, and I get that we are all a little monstrous.” I twisted toward him, dropping my hands to the robe’s velvety skirt. “I do. But I also know that I am more…prone to giving in to that side of me and I am trying to make a conscious effort not to do that.” I searched his gaze as my fingers curled against the soft material. “Is that wrong?”

“No, liessa.” He reached between us, straightening the collar of my robe. “It’s actually very wise.”

“Good,” I said. “Because I think approaching this cautiously will benefit us. Kolis doesn’t want—” I frowned as a sudden awareness pressed down on me.

“Kolis doesn’t want what?”

“War,” I whispered, concentrating on the feeling. It reminded me of what I felt when Primals were near, but this was different. The sensation didn’t center only in my chest. “Someone is coming.”