Total pages in book: 401
Estimated words: 390373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1952(@200wpm)___ 1561(@250wpm)___ 1301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 390373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1952(@200wpm)___ 1561(@250wpm)___ 1301(@300wpm)
“You don’t even know them,” Thorne countered.
I stared at him. “And?”
“Their loss couldn’t affect you that greatly.”
“Are you serious?”
“Partially,” he replied. “Still, it is a lot of power.” The essence flared in his eyes. “Some would say you’d be…weak not to take it.”
“Some would say it’s better when you speak less,” I retorted.
Thorne tossed his head back and laughed deeply. “I’m sure you’re right.”
“What about this Court?” I said before they could keep asking about my reluctance to seize such power. “Is there one who can Ascend?”
The corners of Holland’s mouth tightened. “Not that I like to think of that happening,” he replied, “but there is another who can take her place.”
“So, you and Penellaphe have a child?”
His features softened. “We do.”
“That’s…nice,” I said, hoping that hadn’t come out as awkwardly as it sounded. Thorne’s chuckle told me it had. Great. “Anyway…” I cleared my throat. “What’s bad…?”
I didn’t need to finish asking what was so bad about not being tied to a Court. Dividing their powers wasn’t the only reason the Ancients had designed the Courts. Binding a Primal god to a Court was also a means of control. They used the responsibilities of the Court—the impact the Primal’s actions and death would have on the realms—to ensure they remained in check.
But with Deminyen Primals?
They couldn’t keep us in check, and that made us dangerous.
CHAPTER 16
POPPY
“I think she figured out the bad part of being a Deminyen,” Thorne noted.
I had. But did designing the Courts that way work? Clearly not. All one had to do was point to Kolis to prove it was a failure.
Still, I returned Thorne’s smile with my own close-lipped one. “I’m not sure it’s all that bad.”
Thorne chuckled, and the sound startled me. It sounded so much like—
“I would have to disagree with that sentiment,” Lirian grumbled.
“I’m going to be the mature one and ignore that comment,” I said.
“You do realize,”—Lirian propped his back against the window—“that it’s not all that mature when you point out what you’re attempting to do.”
I rolled my eyes. Whatever.
Folding an arm over my stomach, I took a deep breath that did little to ease the tightness in my chest as I considered everything. A sense of dread built within me as my thoughts kept returning to one thing.
“You said it was the Arae’s duty to ensure the balance and see that the Ancients remained in the ground,” I said, picking up a loose strand of hair and twisting it instead of the sash. “But they woke. How?”
“I was wrong.” Lirian’s stare flickered over me as he shook his head dismissively. “You haven’t figured it out yet.”
This time, I would be extra mature and not point out that I planned to ignore that comment.
“The act of giving mortals free will,” Thorne spoke, “therefore allowing them to experience emotion, set off a startling chain of events that was both miraculous and terrible. No matter what anybody did, nobody could prevent what the Ancients dreamed.”
I stopped moving as dread slithered up my spine. I dropped the strand of hair and folded that arm around my waist.
Thorne’s eyes met mine, the colors now still. “They couldn’t prevent you.”
Unease exploded within me, every part of my being recoiling at what he said, causing me to take a step back.
“We saw you in our dreams.” Lirian watched me. “Dreams that became visions held by the last mortal oracle and as told by the goddess Penellaphe. Dreams that many saw as a warning of what was to come—the fact that balance could not be kept.”
Fingers digging into my sides, I continued backing up as if putting physical distance between us could somehow change things.
Make it so I wasn’t the cause of all the destruction and death beyond the Primal Veil.
“How?” I demanded hoarsely, looking between the two Arae. “How did I upend the balance?”
“You were born,” Lirian stated.
I gaped at him. “Wow.”
He lifted a shoulder, and I could only stare at him, unable to believe that a Fate had just shrugged at me.
“That’s not an easily answered question, as it has been in the making since the dawn of man.” Holland tilted his head. “Many tried to stop this from happening: Eythos. Seraphena and Nyktos. Primals whose names were lost to time. My brethren. The Unseen—”
“Alastir?” I gasped.
Holland nodded.
“My gods.” I spun away from him, my stomach twisting. I pressed my fingers against my mouth as bile rose. I feared there was a very good chance I might be sick.
“If it is any consolation,” he said. “Eloana’s part in Alastir’s actions was as she claimed. She did not understand the prophecy.”
“I don’t think that is any consolation,” Lirian commented.
A ragged laugh left me. Was it comforting to know? I guess. But…
I closed my eyes, my throat burning as sorrow seized my heart. “I caused all those people to die.”