We shadowstepped back to the Bonelands, leaving Keella and Attes in the Thyia Plains.
As I stared out past the ships at sea, I wished I could’ve seen more of the Court. It was beautiful.
Keella had embraced me before we left. Attes hadn’t. Likely because Ash would’ve made good on his threat to rip out the Primal’s tongue. Instead, he’d placed his hand over his heart and bowed.
I’d reminded him of his promise to me as Ash said goodbye to Keella: that he would support Ash.
“I have not forgotten, Seraphena,” he’d answered. “He will have my support.”
“Sera,” I’d corrected him.
Attes had smiled then, but his dimples didn’t appear, and his eyes looked sad. I hoped he and Ash could work things out and become more than comrades. I hoped they’d be friends like those Ash spoke with now.
We will meet again.
I hadn’t hallucinated the sound of Sotoria’s voice, but what had she
meant? Once we both passed on? That would be soon, very soon for me. But
her?
My stomach shifted again as I thought about her in that diamond for who knew how long, only to be reborn, grow up, and be placed right back in the hands of Kolis and his obsession. It wasn’t right. I should’ve spoken up.
I turned at the sound of footsteps, spotting Elias, who had been conscious when we returned. The golden paint had been washed from his face. It was
always hard to tell a god’s age, but his square-shaped face looked younger
than I expected.
“Sorry about what happened when you first arrived here,” I said.
“It’s okay. I’d rather be seen as suspicious and ask for forgiveness than end up dead.” He touched the back of his head as he glanced to where Ehthawn was now perched on the cliff Aurelia had been on before. “Though I hope I don’t have any more stones coming down on my head.”
“I suppose you’ll need to stay out from under any draken then,” I said. Elias glanced at the sea. “Was everything a success with the diamond?”
“It was.” I took in the cut of his chin. “Are you from Attes’s Court originally?”
He nodded.
“Did he have something to do with you working your way up to being Kolis’s guard?”
“He did. Put a good word in, but I also had to put my time in to get there.” He frowned, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. “He couldn’t tell you about me, you know? It was just too much of a risk.”
“I know.”
His gaze cut to mine. “Do you?”
“I could’ve used that kind of information as a bargaining tool.” “Would you have?”
I watched Ash as he spoke to Saion and Rhahar, the breeze stirring his
hair. “Depends.”
Elias followed my gaze. “You’d do anything for him.” “I would.”
“He’s a lucky man, then, to have even a day of such devotion.” A brief
smile appeared. “And I have a feeling I’ll be a dead man if he catches me talking to you.”
My lips quirked. “You’ll be fine. Attes? Probably a different story.”
Elias chuckled. “Attes does have a way of inciting that response in
others.” His eyes narrowed. “I think someone wishes to speak with you.” I followed his gaze, finding Rhain striding toward us.
“Excuse me.” Elias bowed.
I nibbled on the inside of my lip when Elias departed, only to be quickly intercepted by Kars, then shifted my focus to Rhain.
He stopped about a foot from me. “I’d ask how you’re feeling, but…” “Yeah,” I murmured. “Thank you for not asking.”
“And forcing you to lie?”
I nodded, now the one shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. “Oh.” I reached up, unclasping Aios’s necklace. I offered it to him. “Can you give
this back to Aios? Or give it to Bele?”
Rhain stared at the silver chain. “You should be the one returning it to her.” He took the chain.
“I would like to,” I told him, glancing down at the cracked marble floor. “By the way, that’s a nifty talent you have. Communicating telepathically.”
The apples of his cheeks matched his hair. “Yeah, it’s not something I advertise. I’m not even as good at it as Kolis believes.”
I doubted that. “I’m sorry about your father and brother.”
Squinting, he nodded. His chest rose. “I wanted…I wanted to thank you for—”
“You don’t have to.”
“But I do.” His golden-brown eyes met mine. “You didn’t have to intervene to save me. You didn’t have to do anything. Yet, you did.”
I folded an arm over my waist. “I only did what anyone else would have.”
“I don’t think that’s true, Seraphena.” He stepped in closer. “I don’t know what you had to do,” he said, his voice low, “but whatever it was, I will never forget what you sacrificed.”
“It wasn’t…” I closed my eyes, knowing it was unlikely he’d believe me if I said it was nothing. “Thank you for not telling any of them about how you were freed.”
“Of course.” His gaze flickered over me. “But they would not have treated you any differently if they knew. I know they would feel what I do, only regret.”
“Regret?”
Rhain nodded. “For not seeing you as Ector did,” he said, his voice cracking. “He saw you for what you were when you first arrived in the Shadowlands.”
“Someone you didn’t want to stab?” I joked.
His too-solemn stare landed on me. “Someone who has earned our respect and admiration. Especially mine.” He looked away. Ash was heading in our direction. “But he always saw you. Always.”
Ash had.
He always saw me, even when he was angry or disappointed. “What are you two talking about?” Ash came to my side, and Rhain
moved back several feet, followed by the others.
“I was returning Aios’s necklace,” I said, my gaze moving over the faces of those I might’ve become friends with if I had more time and missing the ones not here and those no longer with us.
I wanted to see Reaver’s too-solemn and too-old eyes for such a young boy. His smile. And I wished I could hold Jadis again. Feel her weight on my chest as she slept.
Gods, it was so damn weird.
Because I wasn’t sure I had appreciated that experience as much as I should’ve in the moment. But now? I wished I’d paid more attention.
Because I imagined that if I were able to live long enough to have children, that was what it would’ve felt like to hold my own. Feeling their heartbeat against my chest. And knowing that I held my whole damn world in my arms.
I glanced up at Ash. He was looking down at me, and the back of my throat burned with a knot of raw yearning. I’d never really considered children. I hadn’t even liked holding them on the rare occasion I’d been near one. Babes and their tiny hands and fragility terrified me. The idea of children had never been a part of my future. But as my gaze traveled over
Ash’s face, I would’ve…I thought I would’ve entertained that with him. He would’ve made an amazing father.
No, I corrected myself with a sharp breath. He will make an amazing father.
The tendrils of eather brightened in his irises. He dipped his head to mine, speaking low. “What’s wrong?”
Everything. “Nothing.”
He ran his hand up my back, slipping it under my hair. “That’s not true.” I drew back, meeting his stare. “Don’t read my emotions.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not.” I totally was.
He arched a brow. “Liessa.”
“Nyktos,” I snapped, and one side of his lips kicked up. “Are you two fighting already?” Saion asked.
Ash lifted his head. “No.”
“We’re about to,” I muttered at the same time.
“Yeah, they are.” Saion smiled at his cousin. “Told you they wouldn’t make it an hour.”
“Godsdamn it,” Rhahar grumbled. Saion lifted a hand. “Pay up.”
Rhahar was shaking his head as he reached beneath his armor. “I need to
be more cynical.”
I frowned as I glanced between the two. “Did you two…?” My brows shot up as Rhahar retrieved a few coins. “You two had a bet?”
“Yep.” Saion took the coins. “Rhahar believed you two would go all day without getting into it. I said you wouldn’t make it an hour without arguing about something—and that was being generous.”
“Wow,” Rhain murmured. I turned to Bele.
Her hands flew up. “I had no part in this.” She paused. “But I do agree that Saion was being generous.”
Crossing my arms, I faced Ash. “These are your friends.” His lips twitched as he eyed them. “Were.”
Rhahar laughed, and Saion made some wisecrack about being friends with a Primal of Death, but I…I could barely catch my breath as I stared up at Ash.
He’d just acknowledged them as friends.
He had never done that before, even going as far as to claim that he had no friends.
This interaction would mean very little to most, but it was huge for him.
Ash had been taught that any connection could become a weakness that could be exploited. So, he’d always kept distance between himself and everyone
else—everyone except Nektas.
I tilted my head, my gaze locking with the black-and-gray-scaled draken perched on the same cliff he had been on earlier. I could’ve sworn he smiled. It was kind of hard to tell while he was in his draken form, but those crimson eyes looked somber.
Drawing in a short breath, I looked at the crystal-clear blue waters. There was so much I wished I had time for. I would’ve loved to see Ash relax
around his friends. Share dinner or drinks with them and discuss something other than war and violence. I would’ve liked to see Nektas’s eyes turn as blue as the sea again, and Aios, Ezra, and Marisol…
I really wished I had a chance to do some real bodily damage to Veses. I sighed.
My gaze returned to Nektas. He was no longer looking at me but at the horizon. I turned my attention back to those before us.
Lailah was speaking with Kars, her head tilted. I wished I had gotten to know her better because I really wanted to know what in the realms was up
between her and Attes. Bele stood, her arms crossed over her chest, the wind tossing her dark hair across her cheeks. The glow of eather in her eyes was almost as bright as Ash’s. I thought about Aios again and wished I could say goodbye. I looked at the cousins and felt my lips spread into a grin. They
were saying something to Elias, likely talking shit to the guard. I saw Ehthawn, and my heart…gods, it ached for Orphine. Her death wasn’t fair.
But death rarely was.
Thinking of Ector, I felt my chest tighten as I focused on Rhain. He stood a little apart from the rest, his hair more red than gold in the sunlight. His
hands were at his sides and close to the daggers strapped to his thighs. He
looked my way, his gaze passing mine before darting back. I saw him
swallow thickly and thought maybe he was thinking about what was to come.
The knot in my throat expanded. I wanted to linger, but we didn’t have much time, and I still had to talk to Ash privately. I still needed the time Nektas said was never a waste.
I reached over, touching Ash’s cool hand. His gaze came to mine. “Take me to my lake?” I whispered.
Ash’s jaw immediately tensed—all traces of amusement gone. “You promised,” I reminded him.
He said nothing, but he nodded.
I took a shallow, stinging breath and turned back to those before us.
Everyone had quieted. There were no smiles, and the air seemed to have thickened around us, suddenly full of tension and maybe even sorrow. They all knew what was coming. They all knew what kind of shape Ash would likely be in the next time they saw him.
I opened my mouth, but I didn’t know what to say. “Goodbye” didn’t seem adequate.
What did someone say when they knew it was the last time? I bet some people had speeches planned or eloquent words to be remembered by that
would simply come to them, but I wondered how many could actually deliver
those speeches or parting words when the time came. Because there were no words.
If Ector were here, he’d likely say something ridiculous. He’d make us all either laugh or curse.
I hoped he was at peace and happy. I hoped I saw him again.
That fucking knot traveled to the top of my throat, causing my eyes to burn. I pressed my lips together.
Saion lifted his chin, a wan smile on his handsome face. “Safe travels.”
I nodded. It was all I could manage. I didn’t want their last memory of me to be one where I was a sobbing mess.
Rhain stepped forward, walking between the cousins. Brown eyes alight with eather locked on mine. Then, withdrawing a shadowstone sword, he crossed it over his chest and lowered to one knee, bowing his head.
I inhaled sharply.
Bele followed suit, sword in hand as she knelt. Then Lailah. What were they doing? Saion and Rhahar did the same, and I felt Ash’s fingers thread through mine. Behind them, Nektas lowered his horned head to the stone and patchy grass of the cliff. Ehthawn did the same, puffing out a smoky breath.
In unison, the gods held their swords level with their chests, their other hands folding tightly over the edges of the blades. Blood dripped in front of
them, splashing off the rocky soil. Then it struck me, weakening my legs. My
lips parted.
They were paying me honor and respect—the same I’d seen given to knights in Lasania upon their passing.
“With my sword and my life,” Rhain spoke, lifting his head. The others echoed his words. “I shall honor you.” Silvery, crackling eather erupted from his fingers, spreading across the sword. The blade collapsed first, and then
the hilt turned to ash. “In blood and in ash, forevermore.”
