Ires was silent as he stared at her, seemingly unaware of Kieran and me, even Delano, who was practically standing on us both. Ires’s breathing was heavy and quick, bony shoulders rising with each inhale.
“Ires,” Nektas said quietly.
His head jerked as he looked down the length of the cage. Nektas had not only melted a huge portion of the bars, he now stood inside the cell with Ires.
“I’m here now,” the draken continued, softer than I would’ve thought him capable of as he kept his hands at his sides. “I’ve come to take you home.”
Another shudder went through Ires, and his eyes drifted shut. Nektas carefully inched closer.
“I’m going to see if I can find something for him. A blanket or something,” Kieran said, voice gruff.
“Thank you.” Poppy turned her head, pressing her cheek against my chest. There was a shimmer of dampness beneath her eyes. Gods, if she was picking up on his emotions now, I couldn’t even begin to imagine what she felt from him.
Actually, I could.
He was feeling everything and nothing right now. Relief but also confusion, likely due to starvation, and the gods only knew what else they’d done to him. He had to be terrified. I had been both times, fearing my rescue was a dream. He likely worried that he’d wake up and none of us would be here. That it would just be her. Them. Taunting him. Terrorizing him. He’d be terrified it wasn’t an illusion and be afraid he’d hurt those trying to help him.
“This isn’t a dream,” I said.
Ires’s chin jerked, and his eyes met mine through the tangled curtain of hair.
I nodded as I brushed my fingers under Poppy’s eyes, wiping away her tears. “This is real. It’s over. She’s dead. Isbeth. You are free of her—from this.”
A ragged breath left Ires. He swallowed. I saw his lips move, but there was just a raspy sound as he seemed to struggle to get his body and mind to communicate so he could speak. Gods only knew when he’d spoken last.
Kieran returned, handing what appeared to be one of the black and crimson cloth banners to Nektas.
The draken nodded his thanks, then knelt beside Ires. Gently, he draped the cloth over Ires’s shoulders. The material seemed like it would cause the god to collapse, but after a moment, a too-thin hand appeared, and frail fingers curled around the edges of the banner. He held the material to him, and while that was only a small act, it was something.
“I know,” came a hoarse whisper. Ires lifted his other hand, reaching it through the bars. “I know…who you are.”
Poppy rocked back, her body stiffening against me before she pitched forward. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice cracking. She worked an arm free and brought her hand to his. Their fingers threaded through each other’s. Her shoulders relaxed. “Okay.”
Dipping my head, I kissed the back of hers as Ires weakly squeezed her hand. Father. Daughter. It didn’t matter that they were strangers.
“Where is…where is she?” Ires rasped, still holding onto Poppy’s hand. “My…other girl.”
“Millicent?” Poppy swallowed thickly. “She’s not here, but…”
“She’s fine. She’s with my brother.” I had no idea if Malik had found her yet or even if it was a good thing for either of them if he had. That was a whole different mess that Ires didn’t need to know about.
A heavy exhale left the god as he slowly turned his attention to Nektas. “I’m sorry—”
“There’s no need for that right now,” Nektas cut him off. “I need to get you back home. You are not well.”
Kieran glanced at me questioningly, and I shook my head.
“But there…is. I didn’t know this…would happen. I…I would never have brought her with…me if I thought—” He coughed, shaking. “I’m sorry.”
Jadis. They were speaking of Nektas’s daughter. Damn.
“She’s…” Air wheezed in and out of Ires as his hand slipped from Poppy’s, falling limply to his side. She stretched forward, grasping the bars. “I know where…she is. The Willow…” He took a shallow breath.
“The willow?” Nektas asked, the lines of his face tensing.
“Willow Plains,” Poppy exclaimed. “Are you speaking of the town there?”
“Yes. She is…she is there. I’m sorry. I’m so…damn tired. I don’t know…” Ires caved in on himself. He went down, barely caught by Nektas.
“No!” Poppy shot to her feet, grasping the bars. “Is he okay?”
“I believe so.” Nektas placed a palm against the unconscious god’s forehead.
“I can help him,” Poppy said, already reaching through the bars once more. “I just need to touch him. I can heal—”
“This is not something another can heal. He’s fine,” Nektas quickly added. “He just passed out.”
“How is passing out fine?” Poppy demanded. “That doesn’t sound fine to me.”
“He’s obviously been unable to feed in any way for too long.” Anger thinned Nektas’s lips even as he reassured Poppy. “He is far too weak.”
“Are you sure that’s all it is?” Her worry twisted my insides, choking me.
Nektas cradled the limp god to his chest. “He just needs to be home, where he can go to ground. That can’t happen here,” he explained. “Not with the shadowstone.”
“Okay. All right.” Poppy took a deep breath, letting go of the bars. “I think he might be speaking of Willow Plains. It’s east of the capital, a bit to the north. It’s where most of the soldiers are trained. There are a few Temples there, and if they’re anything like—” She took a step back, lifting a hand to her head. “Whoa.”
“What is it?” I was already at her side, hands on her arms.
“I don’t know.” Her brow furrowed. “I was just dizzy for a moment.”
“You’re pale.” I glanced at Kieran. “She’s even paler, isn’t she?”
Kieran nodded. “She is.”
“Probably because my head’s been aching,” she told us. “It started a little bit ago.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked, forcing my voice to remain calm, even though that was the last thing I felt.
“Because it’s just a headache.” She drew out the words.
“Just a headache?” I repeated dumbly. “Do Primals get headaches?” I looked at Nektas. “If so, that seems messed up.”
“They can,” the draken answered. “But there’s usually a reason for it.”
Wasn’t there always a reason for a headache?
Kieran lifted a hand to Poppy’s cheek. “Skin’s colder.” His jaw flexed. “Real cold now.”
Poppy glanced between us. “What? I don’t feel cold.”
I touched her other cheek as she poked the skin of her chin. My stomach dipped. Cold didn’t even begin to describe the iciness of her flesh. Then it hit me. “Do you need to feed?”
“I don’t think so,” she said, brushing our hands away. “And if my skin feels cold, it’s because we’re underground.”