My gaze flicked from the Revenant to the doors. When they were open, I’d seen two guards framing the entrance. I recognized the dark-haired one.
I had no idea where Kolis had disappeared to after reiterating his promise to make my life—and apparently, my afterlife—a living nightmare.
He’d promised to take my soul, just as he’d done with Eythos.
As I shuddered, I couldn’t help but wonder where, exactly, he kept his brother’s soul. Probably somewhere disturbing.
Either way, I wasn’t foolish enough to hope he’d freed Ash while he was away. The deal only went into play once he was sure I hadn’t lied. How he planned to go about determining that was anyone’s guess.
I picked at my food, my normally voracious appetite nearly nonexistent. My stomach was still churning; and dealing with Kolis had been like messing around with a caged pit viper. It was exhausting.
As was becoming the blank canvas and staying that way. Both had played a role in how easily and deeply I’d fallen asleep again. I’d slept on the divan once more, unable to bring myself to sleep on the bed.
“You should eat,” Callum advised, breaking the silence. “It will please His Majesty.”
I rolled my eyes, wishing the meat hadn’t been precut and a knife was available. I would’ve thrown it at the Revenant.
Which was likely why there were no knives.
“This is far too much food for one person to eat,” I pointed out as I plucked a bread crumb from the lap of the ivory gown I’d found in the chest. It was constructed the same as the one I’d worn yesterday, except it included a golden rope as a belt.
“Is it?”
Eating a piece of broccoli, I looked over at him. “I think the answer to that is obvious.”
Callum only shrugged in response.
I watched him as I chewed the buttery vegetable. “Do Revenants not eat?” I frowned, remembering I’d seen no pointy teeth on the bastard. But from personal experience, I knew fangs weren’t needed to drink. “Or do you need blood?”
Callum flipped the page of his book. “That’s a rude question.”
“Is it?” I parroted his comeback from earlier.
A faint smile appeared. “Revenants do not need food or blood.”
I ate a piece of chicken seasoned with some sort of spice. “So, if you don’t need food or blood, what do Revenants need?”
“Revenants are in need of nothing.”
“Nothing? That doesn’t…” I trailed off, understanding dawning. “It’s because you’re already dead.”
“Well, that was also a rude assessment,” he responded. “Do I look deceased to you?”
He looked rather healthy. “No.”
“Then there’s your answer.” He returned to reading.
“That’s not an answer.”
He sighed heavily as he turned another page. “Are you unable to see me?”
I frowned. “That’s another question that should have an obvious answer.”
“I ask because you must be experiencing vision issues,” he replied. “Since you clearly cannot tell I’m trying to read.”
Smartass.
My fully functioning eyes narrowed. “What are you reading?”
Callum’s lips pursed as he looked up from his book, his head listing to the side.
“If you answer my questions, I’ll shut up.” I picked up a chalice full of fruity water, wondering exactly how mad he or Kolis would be if I threw it at the Revenant’s head.
“That seems highly unlikely.”
It was. “To become a Revenant, you must die—like the soul leaves the body and all that. Correct?” I pressed. “That’s why Kolis didn’t attempt to save me by turning me into a Revenant.”
“That would be correct.”
Wait. The way he’d been answering these questions… He’d only referred to himself once, asking if he looked dead, but when he answered the other questions, he never referred to the Revenants as we. “Were you once Chosen?”
“Was I a Chosen?” Callum’s nose wrinkled as if he smelled something rotten. “Not exactly.”
What did that mean? “The woman I saw feeding. She was a Chosen, though.”
“I believe that has already been established.”
“But you’re not like her.”
Callum’s laugh was airy. “Obviously.”
“Are all the Revenants like you?” I asked.
Callum scoffed. “There are no Revenants like me.”
I rolled my eyes then. “How many are there?”
He said nothing.
Frustration rose, but I changed tack. I was more likely to get an answer if it was directly related to him. “I was under the impression that very few would be allowed in here without Kolis in attendance, but here you are.”
“Because I’m special.”
“Really,” I replied dryly, extending the middle finger of the hand that held the flute.
Callum grinned. “I am the first.”
I halted, the glass halfway to my lips. I hadn’t been expecting that, and I wasn’t even sure why. Everything had a first. “And how did you end up so lucky?”
“You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”
“Wouldn’t you?” I countered.
Closing his book, he set it aside as he laughed under his breath. “No, I would be smart and stay quiet.”
“Ah, yes, not asking questions and keeping oneself in the dark and without any understanding of those around them is so very clever.”
Callum smirked. “Well, we will see just how clever you are shortly.”
The tasty water soured in my stomach. “And how is that?”
“When Kolis discovers whether or not you are who you say you are.” Callum leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. “If you’re not, I imagine your death will be a painful one.”
“And if I am?” I challenged. “Then what do you imagine?”
“You already know what I imagine.”
I did. “Eventually, Kolis will grow tired of me. Whether it takes weeks, months, or years.”
He nodded. “You’re only an inconvenience.”
“I’d rather be that than an ass-kisser.”
“Charming,” he murmured.
“Thank you.” I smiled at him in the way I did that used to irritate my mother, wide and brightly. Based on his stiffness, I knew it had the same impact on him. Hiding a grin, I leaned back in my chair, deciding I was in the mood to be annoying. “So, what’s up with the masks?”
“What about them?”
“Why is it always painted on your face and the other Revenants, those not as special as you?” Ash had told me the wings were silver when his father was the Primal of Life, but I hadn’t gotten the impression that everyone ran around with the masks painted on their faces when he ruled. “And on the guards.”
He stretched an arm over the back of the settee. “They are symbolic.”
“No shit,” I muttered, quickly swallowing. The tender beef tasted…different. I couldn’t put my finger on why, but yuck. I washed the lingering taste away with a gulp of water.
“It symbolizes that we serve the true King of Gods and are created in his image.” His fingers tapped.