Page 255 of Born of Blood and Ash

“Not even them,” he confirmed. “The sekyawould’ve swarmed any draken who came to our aid, andthey’re capable of severely injuring even one as old as Nektas.”

“Gods,” I muttered.

Ash’s eather-drenched gaze lockedon mine. “And they can do a lot of damage to a Primal, especially a newlyAscended one,” he said, his gaze sweeping over me. “Without a weapon.”

I tensed as my thoughts went immediately to the dagger he’dgifted me.

“She held her own and then some,” Bele spoke up. “With orwithout a weapon.”

Ash’s gaze slid to the Primal while I shifted from one footto the other. I appreciated Bele coming to my defense, but the thing was, I hadcome out to fight without a weapon, and that was idiotic.

The essence in me swirled, responding to Ash’s. Outwardly,he appeared to be calming—the shadows weren’t as thick. But the inside was adifferent story, and his barely leashed anger had much more to do with what hadhappened here than it did with me.

These were our people strewn across the courtyard, and evenif Kolis had only summoned the sekya to himwithout giving them orders to attack, he knew that many of them would. Becauseintuition told me the creatures’ bloodline was old. They had been created bythe Ancients themselves. Just as the dakkais were.And their nature reflected that of their creators.

Hunger and cruelty.

This was Kolis’s fault, and I was sure that knowledge fueledAsh’s rage. It fed mine as I turned. Kolis was strengthening his defenses,likely in preparation for giving his answer to the offer I made. There wasstill time left in the eirini—at least aweek—but he was already preparing for us.

For war.

I stood there for several moments in the moonlight, staringat the splashes of blood tainting the newly grown grass. The wildly churningessence calmed as a sudden prickling sensation erupted along the nape of myneck. Before I knew it, I was crossing the courtyard. I entered the palace, thestone cold beneath my feet. It was as if I were being urged forward. I didn’tthink it was my heightened intuition. It felt more like the eatherinside me. The Primal essence continued to intensify, throbbing in the pit ofmy chest. I walked beneath the crystal chandelier, making out the low murmur ofseveral voices and another sound—one too muffled for me to make out.

Crossing under the wide, sharply pointed archway, I smelledthe iron-rich scent of blood. I passed the empty, white marble pedestal and theclosed doors on either side of the area. Reaching where the hall split in two,I went right without much thought. It was like I already knew where to go.

And I was right.

The sound of voices picked up as I entered the palace’sright wing, where the doors to the various, mostly unused chambers were closed.I kept going, reaching another branch in the hall, one where one path ledoutside and the other to a narrower hall with fewer but larger spaces. They hadbeen completely empty when I’d explored the palace with Jadis and Reaver.

I went down the hall, my fingers digging into the softvelvet of my robe. Halfway down, I saw that two doors were open. I picked up mypace, the eather buzzing hotly through my veins. Ijerked to a halt when I stepped into the dull light spilling out of thechamber.

I took in the horror of the space. Gods were extraordinarilyhard to kill, given only a handful of things could kill them—shadowstone to the heart or the head, a blast of eather from a stronger god or Primal, drakenfire.

And massive bodily damage inflicted by any creature createdby the Ancients.

The dakkais and sekya were only two of them. The knowledge I’dgained during my Ascension warned me there were more—truly nightmarish things.But gods weren’t infallible.

And this room was proof of that.

The large chamber had quickly been converted into aninfirmary. Those wounded from the attack were laid out on thin cots—about adozen of them. Most of the injured were unconscious. Moans came from those whoweren’t as Aios hurried between the cots, her armsfull of bandages. She wasn’t alone. A tall man with a large brown satchel wascrouched beside one of the unconscious guards. I needed no introduction torecognize the light-yellowish-brown-skinned man as Kye, the Healer.

Aios had likely already been herewith Bele. I had no idea how the Healer had gotten here so quickly, but I wasgrateful to see him.

I fully entered the chamber, my attention shifting to aguard lying just beyond the doors. She wasn’t awake, but her features werestill contorted in pain.

I recognized her.

It was the guard with the pretty name.

Iridessa.

Beside her shredded tunic, a pile of blood-soaked linens layon the floor, and bright, shimmering blue-tinged red already stained thebandage across her chest.

Iridessa was alive—but barely. And I doubted whatever vialKye had pulled from his satchel while he assisted another could reverse thedamage of the sekya’s claws.

A faint series of tingles erupted behind my left ear as Iknelt at Iridessa’s side, careful to avoid the mess on the floor. Like with theguard on the Rise, knowledge of her filled my thoughts.

She was a fighter. A goddess who’d originallyserved Hanan, having defected from his Court a few years back after guardssworn to protect the people of Sirta slaughtered her family. She was youngcompared to the others. Younger than even Ash. She’d seen a hard century oflife.

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