I stood in front of the vanity, staring at the pinkish-red streaking the clusters of foam.
My gums were bleeding.
Hand shaking, I reached for the cup and rinsed my mouth, then used the rest of the water to wash away the evidence of what Phanos had warned would happen. Whatever the ceeren had done for me was wearing off.
Either it was bound to happen, or there were other reasons. The injury sustained when I tried to escape? How long I’d slept afterwards? Using the
embers? Kolis feeding on me? Regardless, I was once more barreling toward
my Ascension.
I numbly pushed away from the vanity and changed into the first gown I retrieved from one of the chests, giving up on searching for a somewhat decent one.
As I walked to the table and picked up my glass, I eyed the platter of sugared fruits the Chosen had left after all the other plates were cleared. My appetite still hadn’t returned. I couldn’t recall my hunger being affected before, but Kolis’s recent punishment had likely played a role in what I knew was true, as did worrying about what Veses was up to. I was further along in my Ascension now, and all the other symptoms made sense. The headaches.
The tiredness. I just hadn’t wanted to connect them because it meant time was running out.
I would go through my Ascension, and I wouldn’t survive. Sotoria would be lost, and the embers…
There would be no hope for the mortal realm.
Surprisingly, my mind didn’t linger there—on the most serious of the consequences. I didn’t even think about Ash. My thoughts went to the Ascended.
If I started to die and was still here with Kolis, he would take the embers and attempt to Ascend me.
I drifted closer to the bars, thinking about what Delfai had said: that the embers had melded with me. I’d have to be entirely drained for someone to remove them. My heart would stop. According to Kolis, the Ascended never died like the Revenants did. I’d forgotten that in my initial panic upon hearing Kolis’s plans.
There was some relief in remembering that. At least I wouldn’t come back as a being swept up in bloodlust.
Hopefully.
Because there was so much I didn’t know. Like what Kolis had shared about the Ancients, or the fact that Kolis’s blood could give life—I thought about Callum. Well, it sort of could. Even if there was only a sliver of a
chance that Kolis could somehow pull off what he planned, it was a chance.
I took a sip, swallowing water that tasted like mixed fruit today. About to refill the glass, I heard the sound of footsteps. A moment later, I felt the
embers pulsing in my chest.
Focusing on my breathing, I emptied my thoughts and became no one as I stepped back from the bars.
Kolis entered the chamber alone, his white linen pants hanging loosely from his hips, but I could see the shoulders of the men standing guard in the hall.
“So’lis,” he greeted with a warm, breezy smile. “You look lovely today.” “Thank you,” I replied, my tone matching his. At least two days had
passed since Veses visited me. I hadn’t seen Kolis at all yesterday, not until
whatever constituted night here fell, and he showed yet again to demand that I sleep beside him.
He’d held me even tighter last night than the one before.
I had no idea where he’d been in the meantime or if Veses had gotten to him.
Strangely, I also hadn’t seen Callum since her visit.
Kolis’s steps slowed as he approached the cage door. “Though you do look quite tired.”
I blinked slowly at the criticism creeping into his voice. “Did you not sleep well last night?”
I knew better than to tell the truth: that I’d only managed to doze and was
unable to sleep deeply with him present. “I slept fine. I’m not sure why I look tired.”
“Then perhaps this will help.” He unlocked the cage. “I thought you might like to go for a walk.”
Go for a walk.
Like a dog.
If he were anyone else, I would’ve kicked him in the throat. Instead, I smiled. “That would be nice.”
And it would be. Any chance to leave the cage was an opportunity to see more of my surroundings.
“Good. Come.” He motioned me forward.
I did as he ordered, taking note of the guards. Elias was there, as always. This time, the other was the Revenant, Dyses. His eyes looked even paler in the fading sunlight.
“Where has Callum been?” I asked.
“I sent him away for a few days to handle something important for me,” he said, not elaborating on the task. “I figured you two could benefit from
some space.” He looked down at me, his stare suddenly sharp. “Perhaps be
less inclined to disobey me.” Disobey him…?
Damn it, he had felt me using the embers when I’d spoken to Veses.
Except he believed it was a result of my interactions with Callum.
Which meant that he remained unaware of Veses’ visit. It could possibly even mean that Veses hadn’t begun her campaign against me.
Despite how demented she was, Veses was smart enough not to launch an all-out verbal attack against me. She’d immediately arouse Kolis’s suspicions, and not in the way she wanted. But I was willing to bet she’d already been whispering in his ear, laying the groundwork.
Something else struck me as Kolis led me down the same path we’d taken to the Council Hall. The color of the Revenants’ eyes could only be described
as a lifeless shade of blue. Emphasis on lifeless. I’d seen the eyes of the dead before, how they first fixed on the beyond and then glazed over. I’d seen the color change, or at least appear to. A film of sorts settled over them, the color a milky, bluish-gray.
Almost identical to a Revenant’s. Was that because they had died?
I glanced behind us, relieved to see that only Elias followed. What I
wanted to ask seemed sort of rude to ask in front of Dyses. “Can I ask you something about the Revenants?”
“Of course.” Kolis walked slowly, allowing me to keep pace beside him. “Callum explained to me that Revenants are not in need of food or
blood,” I began.
“They aren’t,” he confirmed as we passed under the palms’ broad leaves. “They have no need of anything that sustains either mortals or gods. Not even sleep.”
My brows knitted. “Then what of less-tangible things? Like companionship?”
“As in friendship? Love? Sex? No.” Dear gods. “That sounds…”
“Wonderful?” He smiled. “Their lives are no longer tethered to the needs of the flesh or the wants of the soul. They’re driven only by the desire to
serve their creator.”
Yeah, I wasn’t thinking wonderful at all. More like horrific.
“You don’t think so?” he asked as we approached the diamond-encrusted wall. The sparkling buildings of the city came into view.
I knew better than to breathe too deeply. The scent of decay was in the air.
“I…I just can’t imagine not wanting anything.” I honestly couldn’t as we turned toward the colonnade. “Not feeling anything.”
“I imagine it’s rather freeing,” he remarked as we climbed the short, wide steps.
I could barely keep my expression blank. While I’d wished I didn’t feel anything many times in my life, I couldn’t imagine a near eternity of feeling nothing. The mere thought of it caused my chest to constrict.
Forcing my breathing to even out and slow, I considered what Kolis had shared as we entered the hall of what I assumed was the main part of the sanctuary. The Revenants may be reborn and able to walk and talk and serve, but they were without wants and needs, and that was nothing more than a poor imitation of life.
Kolis had called the Craven the walking dead, but in reality, the Revenants were such.
Which was why Kolis hadn’t wanted to turn me into one of them. What came back had no soul. Revenants were just reanimated flesh and bones.
Gods, I felt sorry for them. I probably shouldn’t, because if there truly were no souls in them, then they weren’t people. They were just things— something that shouldn’t exist—but I did.
The hall was much quieter today, with only a few faint moans echoing from the shadowy alcoves. “But Callum is different,” I said, remembering both he and Kolis saying as much.
He nodded as we stopped by one of the curtained recesses. He drew the covering back, revealing a door. “Callum is full of wants and needs,” he
replied dryly. “Just as you and I.” So, Callum at least lived.
“And you truly don’t know why he turned out differently than the
others?”
Kolis opened the door with a wave of his hand. “I don’t, but…” He sighed loudly before looking over my shoulder at Elias. “You can wait here.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Unnerved that I would be alone with him, I waited for Kolis to elaborate as we came upon a narrow, spiral staircase.
Luckily, he was feeling chatty. “I believe motivation plays a role. The why behind the creation of the Revenants,” he explained, making his way up the staircase. “And I think it’s because of what my brother said once about creating life. That there is a little bit of magic in creation.”
Trailing a hand over the smooth marble banister, I eyed his back. It was always odd to hear him speaking of Eythos without bitterness or anger and instead with wistfulness.
“A part that was unknown and unplanned. Magic of the realms—in the eather of it all,” he said, the statement reminding me of something Holland would say. “Eythos claimed that whatever the creator felt at the time of creation often shaped it. That even a hint of joy, sorrow, desperation, or anger could mold the life of the creation before it even began,” he said, following
the winding path of the staircase as a faint sheen of sweat broke out on my forehead. “When I create the Revenants, I feel only duty. But with Callum, I felt…I felt everything. Desperation. Anger. Sorrow. Even joy at being close to one who shares your blood.”
My lip curled.
“Eythos would say what I felt when returning life to Callum is why he’s different. That my emotions brought who he was back when I restored his
life.”
Up ahead, the light of dusk filled the landing. “But I don’t think that’s right.”
“Why?” My leg muscles cramped, either from lack of use or from the tiredness Kolis had commented on.
“Because I have made myself feel those things when creating other
Revenants,” he explained, reaching the landing several steps before me. “And none have become like Callum, no matter what I feel or think at the time.”
My lips pursed. He truly didn’t know why. It was so obvious to me. What he felt when resurrecting Callum had been real. The other times? Emotions could only be faked to a point, and even if one managed to convince others of it, even themself, it didn’t make the emotion real. I knew that better than anyone.
But Kolis? He may have understood emotion at one time, but he didn’t now.
“Either way,” Kolis said, facing me, “I suppose it is a blessing. I prefer my Revenants the way they are.”
Of course, he did.
“You are tired,” he noted as I finally reached the landing. “And out of breath.”
Gods.
“It’s unnecessary to point that out,” I muttered. “I hate stairs.”
The golden flecks in his eyes glowed. “You weren’t a fan of them before, either.”
Most weren’t.
“But I hope you will enjoy what I have to show you.” He walked out of an archway, dipping his head.
If he’d had this sanctuary built, did he not consider his height and massive head? I rolled my eyes.
Legs feeling like jelly, I followed him out onto what appeared to be a terrace—one elevated above the sanctuary wall.
Aching muscles forgotten, I crossed the patio floor and went to the waist- high balcony. I could see much of the city: the stunning crystalline towers,
the circular structures with their sweeping pillars, and the shorter, squatter
buildings that glittered in the fading sunlight. I looked down. Even the streets glinted.
Wordless, I turned to look behind us. There, I saw more of the glimmering buildings, the domes of Cor Palace, and eventually, the tops of the statues guarding the city and the patch of the golden trees of Aios. That wasn’t the only thing I saw, though.
Beyond the statues and trees, where a barren stretch of sandy land gave way, a thick mist smothered much of the ground that led to the mountains. A range that made the Elysium Peaks look like nothing more than hills in comparison.
It had to be the Carcers.
My breath caught as my gaze swept over the steep, slate-gray cliffs and deep, dark green, heavily forested ridges. I saw no roads in the mountains,
but I caught glimpses of something darker through the trees blanketing the sides and plateaus. Patches of emptiness that absorbed what light penetrated the forest, turning those spots into abysses that glinted.
Shadowstone.
A bone-chilling screech drew my attention upward. Perched on one of the cliffs, a pale brown draken stretched its long neck, snapping at another who
flew too close. Farther up, near the crest of the Carcers, two more circled.
I exhaled heavily, returning my attention to the pitch-black spots. That was where Ash was. My heart started pounding with relief and also frustration. Just witnessing where he was being held shook me, but seeing what it would take to reach him if he weren’t freed was devastating.
“What do you think?” Kolis asked.
Clearing my throat, I dragged my gaze away from the mountains and back to the city—its silent buildings and empty streets. “It’s beautiful,” I whispered. “It looks like it’s made of glass.” Taking a deep breath, I looked up at him. “You said the Fates killed most who lived here?”
Kolis nodded.
“Why would they do that?” I pressed when he didn’t explain. “I was under the impression they couldn’t intervene in that way.”
He snorted. “They can do as they please, whenever they want, especially when they believe the balance has been unsettled.” His eyes tracked across
the top of my head and then down my face. “And their methods of righting things can be extreme.”
Thinking of what Attes had said, I looked over the narrow roads constructed of diamonds. “What were they attempting to return balance to?”
“When I took the embers of life and the crown, I gave the gods who lived here,” he said, extending an arm, “within the City of the Gods, a choice. They could serve me faithfully and loyally and live. Or they could refuse and die.”
I stared at him.
“Half of them refused. I killed them,” he stated, giving a slight cough as if to erase a thickness gathering in his throat. “It displeased the Arae, so they wiped out those who pledged their loyalty to me.”
My stomach twisted. I would never understand how the Arae went about righting what they believed wrong, but something in his voice left me uneasy. “Do you…do you regret killing those who didn’t pledge their loyalty?”
Kolis didn’t answer for a long moment. “I could’ve sentenced them to imprisonment. Given them a chance to rethink their decisions.” A muscle ticked along his jaw. “I could’ve given them time. I do believe life is important. I acted rashly. One would say I’m often wont to do that.”
I was still staring at him. “Well, acknowledgment is half the battle,” I murmured, unsure what to think of any of what had been said as I returned my gaze to the city, Cor Palace, and the Carcers.
Maybe Kolis regretted killing those gods because of how the Arae had responded. Perhaps he truly wished he’d done things differently, no matter what. Either way, he sounded as if he valued life.
And yet, I’d seen him kill so easily. That told me he didn’t.
Or could it be the malevolent side of the essence of Death that caused his rashness to result in death, overriding the benevolent part? I didn’t believe he had been born this way. He’d become like this. I would probably never know
all the things that’d fed into how and why he was the way he was now, but I had a feeling going into a deep sleep would only make things worse.
I felt he was beyond reverting back to who he’d been. And even if he could? It wouldn’t undo what he’d done.
“There are times when I look at you when I see parts of how you once
appeared.”
My head swung back to him.
“The way you smile. The sound of your voice. Your mannerisms. Your eyes.” His intense stare lowered. “The shape of your body.”
Bile rose to my throat.
“But it’s like all I remember was amplified. Your smiles are smaller, tighter. Your voice thicker. You are more confident in your speech and quite a bit freer with what you say. You move that way, too. There are more
freckles.” His gaze drifted across my chest. “More everything.” The bile increased.
“I find parts of the new you pleasing,” he said, his stare lifting to my hair, and I had a sinking suspicion that I had been right about Veses already whispering in his ear. Why else would he bring that up? “Other parts, not so much. Despite what I said to Callum, I thought you would look just as I
remembered.” I tensed.
He sighed heavily. “I wish you did.”
I was so fucking glad I didn’t, but that didn’t stop my reaction. My brows lifted in surprise. He’d basically just told me, the one he believed was the
love of his life and the person he wanted to start anew with, that he wished I looked like someone else.
Gods, and I thought I was bad when it came to interacting with people. No one was worse than Kolis.
The skin of his forehead creased as a warm breeze carrying the stale scent
of decay lifted the strands of his hair. “I believe I may have insulted you.” “Uh…”
“I’m not sure why,” he said. “I didn’t say I found you unattractive.”
I looked back at the city. I didn’t have it in me to even begin to explain all that was wrong with what he’d said.
“I’ve upset you.” Kolis shifted closer. “How can I make it up to you?” Gods, not this again.
“What would you like? New gowns? Books? Jewels? A pet?” He caught a
curl that had been tossed across my face. His lips thinned as he tucked it back. Was he offended by the color? “Tell me, and I will get it for you.”
I started to tell him that I wasn’t offended and didn’t need gowns, jewels, books, or a pet—wait.
What kind of pet?
It didn’t matter. It was the other thing he’d offered.
Jewels.
The Star diamond.
My pulse picked up as an idea rapidly formed—a really poorly thought- out idea, but one nonetheless.
I turned back to the railing, placing my palm on the smooth marble. “Do you know why I find the city so beautiful?” My stomach and chest fluttered as I spoke. “It’s the way it glitters. All the different shapes, some smooth,
others irregular.” Aware of how intently he was listening and watching, I smiled. “My mother had many jewels, mostly sapphires and rubies. Bright, perfectly polished ones. Completely unflawed—unlike me.”
“How so?”
My mother did have many jewels, but most of what was coming out of my mouth now was completely made up. “The freckles.” I lowered my voice, playing off what he’d said. “She found them to be too many. After all, she preferred smooth, unblemished beauty. Still, she had this one diamond that
was rough-edged and irregularly shaped. It always fascinated me—all diamonds do. Is it true they were created from tears of joy?”
“Most of them.”
“I wanted to wear it,” I lied, having absolutely no desire to wear any jewelry. “But she would never let me touch it.”
“I could retrieve it for you now,” Kolis said quickly. “Tell me where it is.” Oh, shit. “I’m not sure where she keeps it now.”
Determination settled into his jaw. “I can make her tell me.”
Double shit. This was going sideways fast. “I’m not even sure she has it anymore.” I angled my body toward his, desperate enough to get him off the idea that I placed my palm on his chest.
Kolis went completely still.
So did I, but for different reasons, as I did everything not to acknowledge how his skin felt beneath my palm. “You don’t have to go to that kind of
trouble, Kolis.” The bile crowding my throat was back, the lump bigger than ever as I drew my fingers over the slab of muscle, stopping at the center of
his chest. “Another diamond would suffice.”
Kolis’s chin lowered. He stared at my hand as I wondered if I’d lost my mind.
“Obviously, not one from any of the buildings.” I could feel how fast his heart beat. “I would be sad if they were damaged in any way. But something large and unique would work.”
“Exactly how large?” His voice had roughened. “And unique?”
How big was this Star diamond supposed to be? All I remembered was that it was jagged and what I’d heard about the color. “Well, the size doesn’t matter so much as its uniqueness,” I decided, feigning a sigh. “And that it has a silver sheen. Hers was so very silver and jagged.” I tapped my finger against his skin and then withdrew my hand. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t need anything.” I started to turn away.
“I know of one. It’s large and irregular,” he said. I might’ve stopped. breathing. “I believe it also has a silver sheen. It’s a…rare diamond.”
Slowly, I faced him. “You do?”
“Yes.” He was still staring at my hands.
I returned my palm to his chest. “Can I…can I see it?” Whirling gold and silver eyes lifted to mine.
I bit my lower lip. “I would like to see it. Hold it.” I made my tone turn breathy, likely sounding ridiculous compared to how Veses naturally spoke. “Touch it.”
The swirling of his eyes went crazy. “Will it make you happy?”
“Yes.” I nodded, withdrawing my hand again. I clasped them at my waist. “It would.”
“Then come. I’ll take you to it.”
My chest and stomach were still wiggling as I followed Kolis back into the sanctuary. Part of me was lost in disbelief. Could he truly be this easy to manipulate? Really?
But Ash hadn’t known about the diamond. Attes had never mentioned it.
Delfai had said it was not to be known to any other than the Fates.
Obviously, an Arae had shared the knowledge with Kolis. I’d asked Delfai how a Fate could’ve done that since they weren’t supposed to interfere, and he’d claimed that when Primals started to feel emotion, so did the Arae.
Therefore, they could be exploited, too. Who knew? Other Primals could
know of its existence and what it was capable of, but there was a good chance it wouldn’t even cross Kolis’s mind that I was asking to see The Star.
That was if he was actually taking me to it.
I began to seriously doubt that when we ended up back outside, Elias trailing behind us on the pathway. When Dyses came into view, my hands fisted.
The door to the chamber opened, and Kolis led me inside. When he passed his throne and unlocked the cage door, my steps slowed.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “I thought you were showing me a diamond.” “I am.” He stepped inside the cage, waiting for me at the threshold.
Forcing myself forward, I joined him. He didn’t leave much room for me.
My body brushed his as I passed him.
The door swung shut as he came to stand behind me. Like right behind me. “Look up.”
Anger simmered as I did what he said. I looked up. “Yes?” “You see it, don’t you?” Kolis said.
“I don’t see…” My gaze landed on the cluster of diamonds at the center
of the cage. “That’s a cluster of diamonds. And the sheen isn’t silver.” It was a strange, streaky, milky color.
Kolis chuckled. “It appears that way now, only because I’ve willed it to be so.” Reaching around me, he lifted an arm and opened his hand. “Vena ta mayah.”
Recognizing the words as the language of the Primals, my lips parted as the cluster of diamonds at the ceiling of the cage started to vibrate, making a high-pitched whirring noise.
They shuddered free of the gold, and I realized that it wasn’t a cluster of several but only one. The shape changed as it floated downward, pulsing with a milky streak of light and silver.
When it reached Kolis’s hand, he held a single diamond the size of his palm, its irregular shape vaguely forming the points of a…
I couldn’t believe it.
The damn diamond had been above me the whole time.
