A_Shadow_in_the_Ember_Amazon

by Armentrout, Jennifer L.

“So that’s why,” Bele mused, tossing her braid over her shoulder. “He thought he was protecting the Shadowlands by making sure Kolis didn’t have a reason to come here. He sought to remove the lure. Kind of can’t fault him for that line of thinking.”

  I stared at her. “Considering that I was the lure he sought to remove, I kind of do fault him.”

  “Understandable,” the goddess quipped.

  But I also understood Hamid’s line of thinking. I could easily see myself doing the same. And I could also see how being the object of one’s murderous intentions, no matter how noble, wasn’t something that could be forgotten.

  It was how I knew that Nyktos would never forget. Not that I needed to know what that felt like to know.

  Chest heavy, I pushed those thoughts aside as a question rose that I felt it best not be asked in front of Gemma. Why hadn’t Kolis come to the Shadowlands?

  Gemma spoke, drawing me back to her. “I didn’t think his graeca was a person. He never spoke of it as if it were something living and breathing. He talked as if it were an object. A possession that belonged to him.”

  Well, Kolis didn’t seem the type to view living and breathing beings as anything other than objects.

  “Did he ever say what he planned to do with his graeca when he found it?” Aios asked.

  “I think we know the answer to that,” Bele replied dryly.

  I had to agree. Kolis couldn’t conjure life. He would see the ember of such power as a threat and want to eradicate it.

  “No. He never said anything to me, but…” She looked over at us. “He was doing something to the other Chosen. Not all of them, but the ones that disappeared.”

  My gaze sharpened on her. They are simply gone. That was what Nyktos had said. “What do you mean?”

  “There was just some talk among the other Chosen who were still there. The ones that had been there the longest. Kolis did something to them.”

  “The ones that disappeared?” Bele asked, stepping forward.

  Gemma nodded. “They weren’t right when they came back,” she said, and a chill swept over my skin. “They were different. Cold. Lifeless. Some of them stayed indoors, only moving about during the brief hours of night. Their eyes changed.” A far-off look crept into hers. “They became the color of shadowstone. Black. They always looked…hungry.”

  Something about her words tugged at the recesses of my mind. Something familiar.

  “They were frightening, the way they stared.” Gemma’s voice was barely above a haunting whisper. “The way they seemed to track every movement you made, every beat of your heart. They were as terrifying as he was.” Her grip eased on the blanket. “He called them his reborn. His Revenants. He said they were a work in progress.” She laughed, but it was weak. “I heard him saying once that all he needed was his graeca to perfect them.”

  Aios glanced over her shoulder at Bele and then at me. It didn’t seem like Gemma had more to share, but if she did, the three of us sensed that we wouldn’t learn it today. The woman looked as if she was close to shattering. Once Aios assured her that she was safe to rest here, and it looked like Gemma believed her, we took our leave.

  I stopped at the door, something occurring to me. I faced Gemma as Aios and Bele waited for me in the hall. “I’m sorry.”

  Confusion marked her face. “For what?”

  “For bringing you back to life if that was not what you wanted,” I told her.

  “I didn’t want to die,” Gemma said after a moment. “That’s not why I went into the Dying Woods. I just…I just didn’t want to go back there. I didn’t want to be afraid anymore.”

  Out in the hall and several feet from Gemma’s door, I stopped. The goddesses faced me. “What do you think the reborn are? These Revenant things?”

  “I don’t know.” Bele turned, leaning against the wall. “I haven’t heard anything like that before, and trust me, I’ve tried to find out what has happened to the missing Chosen.”

  “I really hope the phrase reborn doesn’t mean literally.” Aios rubbed her hands over her upper arms. “Because I don’t want to think about Kolis having found some way to create life.”

  “And that it might some way, possibly, involve you.” Bele jerked her chin toward me.

  “Thanks for the reminder,” I muttered, but it did make me think of the question I’d thought of while in Gemma’s room. “Why hasn’t Kolis come to the Shadowlands? Why didn’t he come himself when I brought Gemma back?”

  “He hasn’t stepped foot in the Shadowlands since he became the Primal of Life,” Bele answered. “I don’t think he can. Don’t look too relieved by that,” she said, catching the breath I exhaled. “As you saw, he doesn’t need to come here to make his presence known. And we don’t know for sure if he really can’t.”

  I nodded, thinking over what Gemma had shared. “So, Kolis definitely knows about the ember of life—he may not know how it came into creation, but he knows it exists. And he thinks he can use it somehow, which I’m guessing Eythos didn’t take into consideration.”

  Aios tipped her head back. “At this point, I doubt even the Fates know why he put the ember of life in your bloodline.”

  I stiffened as what she said struck a chord of familiarity in me. Frowning, I searched my memories until I…I saw Odetta in my mind. “The Fates,” I whispered. “The Arae.”

  “Yes.” Aios looked over at me. “The Arae.”

  My heart started pounding as I twisted toward her. “My old nursemaid, Odetta, told me that I was touched by Death and Life upon birth—she claimed that only the Fates could answer why. I always thought that Odetta was being, well, overdramatic because how would she know what the Fates may or may not have said or known? But what if she was speaking the truth? What if the Fates do know? Is that possible?”

  “As far as I know, the Fates don’t know everything.” Bele pushed off the wall, her eyes lighting up. “But they do know more than most.”

  “Where is Odetta now?” Aios asked.

  “She passed away recently.” An ache cut through my chest. “She should be in the Vale. Can the draken somehow reach her?” I asked, remembering what Nyktos had said. “Wait. If the Fates know what Eythos planned, then wouldn’t Nyktos have known that, too? And gone to them?”

  Bele laughed. “The Primals cannot make demands of the Arae. They cannot even touch the Arae. That’s forbidden to keep the balance. It wouldn’t have crossed Nyktos’ mind. I doubt it would’ve even crossed Kolis’s, and he usually has no care for rules, whatsoever.”

  “We need to find Nyktos,” I said, looking between the two of them. “He needs to know about these reborn and Odetta.”

  “Do you know where he is in Lethe?” Aios asked as she started walking. I followed.

  “I do, but I’m on guard duty.”

  “Then we take her with us.” Aios looked over at me. “You’re going to behave yourself, right?”

  I sighed. “I don’t understand why everyone expects me to do something—” I cut myself off as both of them looked at me. “You know what? Don’t even answer that question. I will behave myself.”

  “Nyktos is going to be so irritated,” Bele muttered as we reached the spiral staircase and started down the steps.

  That he would be. I didn’t want to return to my chambers, to be left with my thoughts and the hollowness I felt, but… “How much trouble will you be in?”

  “None once he hears what we have to say.” Her palm glided over the smooth railing.

  “You only say that because you’ve never done anything to anger him.”

  “True.” Aios laughed as we rounded the first floor and the vast foyer came into view. “But what’s the worst he will do?”

  Bele snorted. “His disappointment alone is unbearable—”

  The massive doors to the foyer swung open without warning, slamming into the thick shadowstone walls.

  Bele jerked to a halt in front of me, throwing out her arm and blocking Aios from going any farther. “What the
hell?”

  I stopped behind them as a figure walked through the opened doors. Everything in me stilled as I took in the faint, radiant aura surrounding her.

  The goddess, Cressa.

  Chapter 42

  Cressa wore a different gown, one the color of the peonies that had been scattered across the Sun Temple’s dais. Under the bright light of the chandelier, the fabric was nearly translucent. I could see the indent of her navel, the darker hue of the tips of her breasts, the—

  Okay, I saw a lot of her.

  What I saw didn’t matter. That bitch had been there when Madis slaughtered that babe. My hand slipped to my right thigh, only to come up empty.

  “What in the hell are you doing here?” Bele demanded.

  Cressa’s gaze swept toward the stairs, her rosy lips curving into a smile. “Bele,” she said, and I saw red at the sound of her voice. “It’s been a while.” Her chin tipped down. “Aios? Is that you? You look…well. I’m sure Kolis will be thrilled to hear.”

  Aios stiffened, then everything happened fast. Cressa threw up her hand, and there was a flash of intense, silvery light. Eather. The bolt of energy charged the air as it streaked toward the staircase. Bele pushed Aios aside as I snapped forward, grabbing her by the shoulder, but the blast of power ricocheted off the shadowstone.

  “Aios!” I shouted as the eather smacked into her, forcing out a pained cry. The silvery energy rolled over half of her body in shimmery ripples from her stomach to her feet. The goddess crumpled, nearly taking me down with her as I fell back onto my ass.

  Aios was limp in my arms, boneless, but the ember of life didn’t pulse in my chest. “She’s alive,” I whispered hoarsely as I eased her onto her side. “She’s alive—”

  “Stay down,” Bele ordered and then whipped around, gripping the railing. She launched herself over it, landing in a nimble crouch on the floor below.

  I stayed low, one hand on Aios’s shoulder, and peered through the railing. Bele rose, a silvery aura surrounding her as she stalked forward, sword in hand. I squeezed Aios’s shoulder, hoping she could feel it, and then I began inching down the stairs, really wishing I had something better than a stupid butter knife. There were countless weapons in the chamber behind the thrones, but there was no way I could get to them unless I went back upstairs and took the other stairs. That would take too long. Anything could happen.

  “I would love to play with you.” Cressa remained where she was, arms at her sides. “But we really don’t have time for that.”

  “Oh, you’re going to fucking make time.” Bele struck, thrusting out with the sword as a flare of eather left her other hand.

  Cressa was shockingly fast, darting out of the way of both blows. She spun, grabbing and twisting Bele’s arm. Bele dipped under it and kicked out, catching Cressa in the side. The goddess stumbled, letting out a husky laugh. “That hurt.” She straightened, tossing back her mane of dark hair. “But not as much as this will.”

  “You’re right. This will—” Bele jerked, her words cut off.

  Cressa laughed again. “You were saying?”

  For a moment, I wasn’t sure what had happened, but I saw Bele look down. I followed her gaze to the…the tip of a dagger protruding from the center of her chest. Disbelief seized me as Bele’s grip loosened on the sword and it fell to the floor with a thud that sounded like a crack of thunder. That dagger—oh, gods, it was shadowstone. It was deadly to a god if it pierced their heart or head, and that blade had to be close. It had to be right there. And there was no way Cressa had thrown it.

  My head jerked around toward the atrium. I didn’t see anyone, but someone else had to be here. Someone must have come in through one of the other entrances.

  “Bitch,” Bele whispered, staggering back.

  “Thank you.” Cressa smirked.

  Bele turned to the stairs, going down to one knee. The ember in my chest warmed, causing my breath to catch. She was wounded. Badly. I knew that dagger had to come out. She would be virtually paralyzed, unable to heal and completely vulnerable, until someone removed it.

  I had to get it out. I rose from where I was crouched, keeping an eye on Cressa while knowing there was someone out of my line of vision. Bele shook her head as she fell forward onto one hand, panting. “Get out—”

  Cressa struck, her bare foot catching Bele under the chin and snapping her head to the side. The kick would’ve killed a mortal. It could’ve possibly snapped Bele’s neck. She dropped forward, unconscious but in much worse shape than Aios. She wouldn’t heal with that dagger in her. I had to get it out, and then I would shove it so deep into Cresa’s heart, the bitch would choke on it.

  Cressa’s gaze shot to the stairwell. “Hello,” she said, stepping over Bele, that mocking smile spreading across her lips. “You must be her. The mortal, would-be Consort to the Primal of Death. The entire realm has been wondering why he would choose a mortal, and I think we have our answer. Don’t we, Madis?”

  A rush of air stirred the wisps of hair at my temples. I spun as a blur came over the railing, landing behind me. I caught a brief glimpse of pale skin. A white tunic trimmed in gold. Amber eyes. Long, midnight hair—

  Sharp, sudden pain exploded along the side of my head, and then there was nothing.

  The shock of my body dropping to a hard floor jerked me back into consciousness. My eyes flew open to see a raised dais and two shadowstone thrones.

  I turned my head slightly, wincing as a throbbing pain bounced inside my skull. I blinked, clearing the tiny bursts of white light from my eyes. Slowly, the forms of Aios and Bele came into focus. They were between two pillars, Aios on her side and Bele lying on her stomach, the dagger still protruding from her back. They had been dragged in here.

  “She’s awake,” a female spoke. “You obviously didn’t hit her all that hard.”

  Cressa.

  I flipped onto my back, ignoring the flare of pain radiating down my spine.

  “Well, I did drop her onto the floor.” Madis leaned against a pillar, arms crossed over his chest. “You should be grateful I didn’t accidentally kill her, considering how weak mortals are.”

  “But is she really all that mortal?” Cressa countered. My stomach twisted as she was suddenly before me, thick black hair cascading over her shoulders. “Are you?”

  I gingerly sat up, curling my right leg toward me. I swallowed hard, trying to ease the dryness in my throat. “Last time I checked, I was mortal.”

  Cressa smiled just enough to reveal the tips of her fangs. “No. If it’s you we’ve been looking for, I’m not so sure about that.”

  A wave of unease shuttled through me as she rose and drifted back several steps.

  “But if you’re not? Well, our bad.” Cressa looked down at me with pitiless golden eyes. “We’ll find out soon enough if you were what the viktors were protecting.”

  “Viktors?” I glanced over at Bele and Aios. Was there a way I could get to them—to Bele, at least, to remove the dagger? I would have a far better chance doing that than attempting to make it to the chamber behind the thrones.

  Cressa arched a brow.

  “He needs to get here soon.” Madis looked at the mouth of the throne room. “Nyktos and the others will only be distracted for so long.”

  My heart turned over heavily. “What did you do?”

  “Led a couple of dozen Shades into the city,” Cressa said, and I felt my stomach pitch. “That escalated far quicker than I thought it would. He’ll be busy for some time, cleaning up that mess.”

  Good gods, I didn’t even want to think about the kind of horror the Shades would bring down on the people. But Nyktos had to know—he had to feel my emotions, wouldn’t he? Had I felt anything extreme? I didn’t think so, and for the first time, I cursed my inability to feel true terror easily. I glanced at Bele again.

  “Don’t even think it, mortal,” Cressa warned.

  My gaze shot up to her. “I have a name.”

  “Do I look like I give a fuck?�
��

  “Do I look like I give a fuck that you don’t?” I shot back.

  Her head tilted, and her eyes narrowed. She took a step forward.

  Madis unfolded his arms, and I tensed as he pushed off the pillar. “Careful. If it’s her, and you kill her, you’re going to wish you were dead.”

  “Gods, I hope it’s not you,” Cressa sneered, but I wasn’t paying attention to her.

  They didn’t want me dead. I thought about what Gemma had said about Kolis and the missing Chosen that had come back different. “Why does it matter if I live or die?” I asked, drawing my other leg up. I shifted forward. If they couldn’t kill me, then I could make a run for Bele.

  “You’ll find out soon enough,” Madis replied. “But trust me when I say you better hope it’s not you. Whatever Cressa wants to do with you—and she has a very active imagination…”

  “I do,” Cressa confirmed.

  “Will pale in comparison to what awaits you,” Madis finished.

  “Did you all plan to say that?” I said. “I bet you two spent eons waiting for the perfect moment to be embarrassingly cliché.”

  Cressa’s lips thinned. “You’re going to test me, aren’t you?” Her gaze flicked up, beyond me. “Finally.”

  I looked over my shoulder to the entrance of the throne room and saw gold. Hair and skin like sunlight, eyes like two citrine jewels.

  It was a tall god with golden hair and eyes that matched. He strode into the throne room, his long legs encased in black, the white shirt he wore left untied at the neck. A smile appeared as he spotted me. “Well, hello,” he drawled, and I tensed. The god knelt in front of me. His gaze swept over my features.

  “What do you think, Taric?” Cressa demanded.

  This was the third god. They were all here.

  “I think you finally succeeded.” He stared, reaching for me. “Hell, just like he described. This has—”

  I reacted without thought, unsheathing the butter knife when he gripped my arm. Twisting into Taric, I thrust the knife as hard as I could—