His smile vanished, and his features sharpened as he stared down at me from his perch. “Her name is a shadow in the ember, a light in the flame, and the fire in the flesh. The Primal of Life has forbidden us to speak or write her name.”
Disbelief flooded me. “That sounds incredibly controlling.”
“You don’t understand. To speak her name is to bring the stars from the skies and topple the mountains into the sea.”
My brows inched up my forehead. “That’s a bit dramatic.”
Reaver said nothing. Instead, he rose so quickly I didn’t have a chance to even look away. Thankfully, I saw nothing I shouldn’t see because tiny silvery sparks erupted all along his body as he leapt from the pillar and changed. My mouth dropped open as a long, spiked tail formed, and then purplish-black scales appeared. Thick, leathery wings unfurled from the shimmer of light, briefly blocking out the muted glare of the sun. Within seconds, a draken swept through the air, high above.
A springy, featherlight sensation brushed against my thoughts as I stared up. As I said before and will likely say again, Delano’s voice whispered, he’s an odd one.
“Yeah,” I said, drawing the word out. “What do you think about what he said, though? About what would happen if we spoke the Consort’s name?”
I really don’t know, he answered as we started across the foundation. Could she be that powerful? As powerful as Nyktos? Because that’s what it sounded like.
It really did, but none were more powerful than Nyktos. Or his equal. Not even the Consort. I didn’t like thinking that, but it was what it was.
Delano stayed at my side as we crossed the ruins, carefully making our way through the wispy reeds and broken stone toward the small group headed our way. Emil and the dark-haired Perry, whose skin was a warm brown in the sun that broke through the pines, flanked Kieran. The wolven was the only one who didn’t wear the gold and steel armor—because of…reasons.
Kieran carried something. A small box. As we drew closer, Reaver landed among the wildflowers, shaking the nearby half-standing walls. His horned head swiveled in the direction of the approaching group. Emil and Perry wisely gave Reaver a wide berth while Kieran ignored the draken’s presence.
I knew something had happened the moment I saw the tension bracketing Kieran’s mouth, but I picked up nothing from him.
His emotions were shielded, and that wasn’t normal at all.
I looked at the others more closely. There was no half-wild grin or teasing glint in Emil’s golden eyes either. Tart uneasiness drifted from Perry. When Emil didn’t pause to make an elaborate display of kneeling, the unease tripled.
I glanced at the box again, and everything in me slowed. My heart. My breathing. The wooden box was no bigger than the length of the wolven dagger sheathed to my thigh but adorned with blood-red rubies. “What’s that?”
“A Royal Guard brought it to the Rise of Massene,” Emil answered, his knuckles bleached white from clutching the hilt of his sword. “He was alone. Said he traveled day and night from the capital. All he had was that small chest. He said it was for the Queen of Atlantia, from the Queen of Solis.”
The back of my neck tightened. “How did she know we were here?” I looked between them. “There’s no way word could’ve traveled to Carsodonia that quickly.”
“Good question,” Kieran said. “It would be impossible for her to know.”
But she did.
My gaze flicked to the box once more. “And where is the Royal Guard now?”
“Dead.” An icy blast accompanied Emil’s lingering shock. “As soon as he finished speaking, he stood right there and slit his damn throat wide open. I’d never seen anything like that.”
“That doesn’t bode well.” Tiny bumps erupted all over my skin as my gaze fell to the wooden box. A gift? “Have you opened it?”
Kieran shook his head. “The Royal Guard said only your blood could open it.”
I frowned as Reaver stretched his long neck, eyeing what Kieran held.
“He had to be talking about old magic—Primal magic.” Perry’s handsome features were drawn tight by tension. “If one knew how to use Primal magic, they could create wards or spells that would work in a way that only responded to certain blood or bloodlines. They could use the magic for almost anything, really.”
“It’s the same kind of Primal magic that created the Gyrms,” Kieran reminded me.
I suppressed a shudder at the image of the faceless creatures made of eather and dirt that were conjured forth. The Unseen had created them, but it was now abundantly clear that the Blood Queen had gained knowledge of the old magic—how to tap into the Primal essences that created the realms and was around us at all times.