“Let me guess. You’re number three?” I remarked dryly.
“You’re very clever.” That dimple was back.
And I was unimpressed. “Has anyone told you that you’re so very stab-worthy?”
A low chuckle radiated from him. “I’ve been told that a time or a thousand.”
I snorted. “Figured.” Easing my death grip, I stood. “What about you and your support? Will you back—？” I stopped myself, looking at the Primal. I remembered what he’d said. Attes claimed only to be loyal to the true Primal of Life.
And as he’d said, for all intents and purposes, that was me.
I inhaled deeply, or at least thought I did, but the breath filling my lungs felt disappointingly shallow. My chest constricted with anxiety like a fist squeezing my heart with every beat. “You will back Nyktos on whatever he chooses and aid him in gaining allies,” I began, my voice trembling slightly. Making demands such as these wasn’t something I was accustomed to. “He will have your full support and that of your Court.”
Attes’s head tilted. “Is that an order?”
My heart raced. At the end of the day, I was still just a mortal ordering a Primal to do my bidding. But the embers in me hummed intensely. I lifted my chin, swallowing. “It is, even if you find yourself standing opposite your brother.”
Wisps of eather whipped through his eyes and lit up the veins beneath the skin of his cheeks. He angled his body toward me.
“You will swear it,” I added, knowing a Primal could not break a promise once made.
Energy ramped up, charging the air. For a moment, I thought I might’ve overstepped a smidgen.
Or a lot.
Probably a lot.
“Very clever,” Attes murmured, then stepped forward and lowered himself onto one knee. Placing one hand over his heart, he bowed his head. “With my sword and my life.” Eather-laced eyes lifted to mine. “I swear to you, the One who is born of Blood and Ash, the Light and the Fire, and the Brightest Moon, to honor your command.”
My title…the one Ash had bestowed upon me. I inhaled sharply as another charge of energy rippled through the air, skating down my spine. I could feel it. I felt the power in commanding such an oath. It caused the nape of my neck to prickle, and the embers to thrum fiercer. His words carried the strength of an unbreakable oath etched into his bones and mine—into the very soil of the realm itself.
And that sudden power? It was as unnerving as it was emboldening. It was also a little awesome.
Attes waited, and I nodded for him to rise, only because I had no idea what I was supposed to respond with and had seen my mother and King Ernald do something similar.
As Attes rose, I cleared my mind and tried to focus. “What will be done about Sotoria’s soul?”
“I’ve been searching for a way to safeguard it, and I will continue to do so.” There was no trace of humor or charm to be found, and when he spoke again, he did so somberly. “I know what it will take for you to gain Kolis’s trust and garner Nyktos’s freedom. It’s the same thing you’ll have to do to stay alive.”
Growing uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, I shifted from one foot to the other.
“And I…” A muscle ticked in his temple. “I’m sorry.”
I looked away, my aching jaw tight. Gods, he sounded as if he meant it, and I didn’t know what to do with that when I preferred he not know what it would take.
“I need to leave,” he said, clearing his throat, but a thickness lingered. “Staying so long without being discovered is luck I should not continue to push.”
Nodding, I faced him as something I’d wondered about earlier resurfaced. “Can I ask you something first?”
“Of course.”
“Does Sotoria’s name mean anything in the language of the Ancients and Primals? I know that so’ means my,” I explained when the skin at the corners of his eyes creased. “And I just thought that perhaps her name meant something. Like it’s two words joined together.”
“Like Kolis’？” he asked.
“Yes.”
“It does. Or did.” He exhaled heavily, dragging his thumb over the base of his throat. “It’s from the oldest of our language. Toria had a few meanings. One meant garden. Another could be loosely translated into pretty flower.” He smiled then, but no dimple appeared, and I couldn’t help but think of what Sotoria had been doing when she died. She’d been picking flowers. “But a more exact translation is poppy.”
“Like the mortal flower?” I thought of the ones that had started to grow again in the Shadowlands. “Or the silver ones?”
“I believe it once referenced the mortal flower, but it could’ve been describing either.”
My brows lifted. “So, Sotoria’s name could be translated into my pretty…” A strange shiver curled its way down my spine. “My pretty poppy?”
Attes nodded. “Or my pretty garden.”
“Oh,” I whispered.
He studied me. “Does something about that translation bother you?”
Yes, but…
“No.” I shook my head, unsure where the feeling of unease had come from or why. “I do have another request for you.”
“Anything.”
I smiled wryly at that. “Find me a weapon made of the bones of the Ancients.”
His head tipped to the side. “Seraphena…”
“I am not going to take any unnecessary risks. I swear.”
The purse of his lips said he doubted my oath.
“But if there comes a time when the only thing left is to take a risk? I want to have something that can kill him, or incapacitate him at the very least,” I said, and could tell he knew what I meant. “It doesn’t hurt to try, does it?”
“No, I suppose not,” he said. “But you have to be careful with such a weapon. And I say that not because I think you cannot handle one,” he added when I opened my mouth. “You cannot touch the bone itself without causing pain. A hilt would need to be crafted, which isn’t a problem. What is an issue is where you would hide it on your person.”
Considering the transparency of my clothing, he had a point. “I can hide one here.”
He exhaled through his nose. “Do you think they won’t check for such a weapon, especially after your escape attempt? Especially one of a size that would be useful for what you intend?”
My jaw clenched. I hated all the logical points he made. “Okay.”
Attes turned to the bars, then stopped. “Do you feel her now?” His throat worked as his gaze found mine. “Sotoria’s soul, I mean.”
His question was strange to me, but I lifted a hand to my chest. I didn’t hear her as I had previously, but there was a flicker of something that wasn’t an ember. An awareness of someone there, watching and listening. “Yes.”
Emotion flickered across his face, too fast for me to determine what it was or even be sure I’d seen anything.
“Then I hope she hears this,” Attes said, swallowing once more. “I will save you this time.”
I was restless after Attes turned himself back into a hawk and flew off, which was as bizarre as it sounds. Left to nothing but my thoughts, I did what I normally did.