“He could sense emotion, like the empath bloodline. It was believed that their line branched off from the one that birthed Malec, having mingled with a changeling line. Some believe that was why the gods favored the empaths. That they had more eather in them than most,” he continued.
“Malec could heal wounds with his touch, but he rarely did it because he was not only descended from the God of Life, he was also a descendant of the God of Death. Nyktos. The King of Gods is both. And Malec’s abilities had a dark side. He could take emotion and turn it back on others, like the empaths. But he could do so much more.”
There was no way.
“He could send his will into others, breaking and shattering their bodies without touch. He could become death.” Alastir held my gaze as I shook my head. “I like you. I know you may not believe that, and I understand if you don’t. But I am sorry because I know that Casteel cares for you deeply. I didn’t in the beginning, but I know now that your relationship is real. This will hurt him. But that is the blood you carry in you, Penellaphe. You are descended from Nyktos. You carry the blood of King Malec inside you,” he said, watching me. “I belong to a long line of people who swore an oath to protect Atlantia and her secrets. That was why I was willing to break my bond with Malec. And it is why I cannot allow you to do what he almost succeeded in.”
It was hard for me to fully comprehend that I carried any godly blood in me. Obviously, I couldn’t deny that I wasn’t just half-Atlantian and half-mortal. One of mixed heritage couldn’t do what I had done. Not even an elemental Atlantian was capable of that. But someone descended from Nyktos? From King Malec?
The deity who had created the very first Ascended? His actions had led to thousands of deaths, if not more.
That was in my blood?
I couldn’t believe what Alastir was saying. It sounded as impossible as what Duchess Teerman had claimed about the Queen of Solis being my grandmother. That was impossible. The Ascended couldn’t bear children.
“How could I descend from Malec?” I asked, even if it sounded impossible.
“Malec had many mistresses, Penellaphe. Some were mortal. Some weren’t,” he told me. “And he had children with some of them—offspring who spread across the kingdom, settling in areas far west from here. It is not at all impossible. There are many others like you—those who never reached the age of the Culling. You are his descendant.”
“Others who never reached….” I trailed off, a whole new horror beginning to take shape in my mind. Good gods, were Alastir and Jansen—and who knew how many others—responsible for the deaths of…of children over the course of the centuries?
“But it’s not just the bloodline, Penellaphe. We were warned about you long ago. It was written in the bones of your namesake before the gods went to sleep,” Alastir said. My skin pimpled.
“‘With the last Chosen blood spilled, the great conspirator birthed from the flesh and fire of the Primals will awaken as the Harbinger and the Bringer of Death and Destruction to the lands gifted by the gods. Beware, for the end will come from the west to destroy the east and lay waste to all which lies between.’”
I stared at him in stunned silence.
“You are the Chosen, birthed of the flesh and fire of the gods. And you come from the west, to the lands the gods have gifted,” Alastir conferred. “You are who your namesake warned about.”
“You…you’re doing all of this because of my bloodline and a prophecy?” A harsh laugh rattled from me. There had been old wives’ tales about prophecies and tales of doom in every generation. They were nothing but fables.
“You don’t have to believe me, but I knew—I think I always did.”
He frowned as his eyes narrowed slightly. “I sensed it when I looked into your eyes for the first time. They were old. Primal. I saw death in your eyes, even all those years ago.”
My heart stuttered and then sped up. “What?”
“We met before. You were either too young then to remember or the events of the night were too traumatic,” Alastir said, and every part of me flashed hot and then cold. “I didn’t realize it was you when I saw you for the first time in New Haven. I thought you looked familiar, and it kept nagging at me. Something about your eyes. But it wasn’t until you said your parents’ names that I knew exactly who you were. Coralena and Leopold. Cora and her lion.”
I jolted, feeling as if the floor of the crypt had moved under me. I couldn’t speak.
“I lied to you,” he said softly. “When I said that I would ask to see if any others had known of them or had potentially tried to help them escape to Atlantia, I never planned to ask anyone. I didn’t need to because it was me.”
Heart pounding fast, I snapped out of my stupor. “You were there that night? The night the Craven attacked the inn?”
He nodded as the torches flickered behind him.
A picture of my father formed in my mind, his features hazy as he kept glancing out the window of the inn, looking and searching for something or someone. Later that night, he’d said to someone who lingered in the shadows of my mind, “This is my daughter.”
I couldn’t…I couldn’t breathe as I stared at Alastir. His voice. His laugh. It had always sounded so familiar to me. I’d thought it reminded me of Vikter. I’d been wrong.
“I came to meet them, give them safe passage,” he said, his voice growing weary.
“She doesn’t know,” my father had told that shadow in my memory that I could never fully latch on to. Images flashed rapid-fire behind my eyes, snapshots of memories—recollections I wasn’t sure were real or fragments of nightmares. My father…his smile had been all wrong before he looked over his shoulder. “Understood,” was the phantom voice’s response. Now I knew who that voice had belonged to.
“Your parents should’ve known better than to share what they knew with anyone.” Alastir shook his head again, this time sadly. “And you were right to assume that they were attempting to flee Solis, to get as far away from the kingdom as they could. They were. They knew the truth. But you see, Penellaphe, your mother and father always knew exactly what the Ascended were.”
I jerked back, barely feeling the pain in my wrists and legs. “No.”
“Yes,” he insisted. But there was no way this was the truth. I knew my parents were good people. I remembered that. Good people wouldn’t have stood by, doing nothing, if they knew the truth of the Ascended. Realized what happened when children were given over during the Rite. Good people didn’t stay silent. They were not complicit.
“Your mother was a favorite of the counterfeit Queen, but she was no Lady in Wait destined to Ascend. She was a Handmaiden to the Queen.”
Handmaiden? Something about that struck a chord of familiarity. Out of the churning chaos of my mind, I saw…women who were always with the Queen. Women in black who never spoke and wandered through the halls of the palace like shadows. They…they’d scared me as a child. Yes. I remembered that now. How had I forgotten about them?
“Her Handmaidens were her personal guards.” Alastir’s brows knitted, and the scar on his forehead deepened. “Casteel knows they were a unique sort of nightmare.”
I lifted a hand and froze. Casteel had been held by the Queen for five decades, tortured and used by her and others. He’d been freed before my mother was born, but his brother took his place.
But my mother, my gentle, soft, and helpless mother couldn’t have been like that. If she were one of the Queen’s personal guards, nightmare or not, she would’ve been trained to fight. She would’ve—
She would’ve been able to defend herself.
I didn’t understand. Didn’t know if any of that was true. But I knew what was. “You,” I breathed, my entire being turning numb as I stared at the man I’d befriended. That I’d trusted. “It was you. You betrayed them, didn’t you?”
“It wasn’t me who struck down your father. It wasn’t me who betrayed your mother,” he replied. “But in the end, it doesn’t matter. I would’ve ki
lled them anyway. I would’ve killed you.”
A harsh laugh erupted from me as rage and disbelief twisted my insides. “If it wasn’t you, then who was it? The Craven?”
“There were Craven there that night. You carry their scars. They were led right to the doors of the inn.” He didn’t blink. Not once. “He led them there. The Dark One.”
“Liar!” I shouted. “Casteel had nothing to do with what happened.”
“I never said Casteel did. I know it wasn’t him, even though I never saw the face behind the cloak and hood he wore when he came to that inn,” Alastir replied. “Other things were at play that night. Darkness that moved outside of my influence. I was there to help your parents. That is what I did back then. But when they told me what you could do, I knew—I knew who you came from. So, when the darkness came to those doors, I let it in.”
I didn’t know if I believed him or if it even mattered if my parents had died by his hand or not. He had still played a role in my parents’ deaths, leaving Ian and I and everyone else there to die, as well. Leaving me to be torn apart by claws and teeth. That pain. That night. It had haunted me for my entire life.
A breath shuddered out of him. “I let it in and walked away, believing that the dirtiest part of my duty was done. But you survived, and here we are.”
“Yes.” The word rumbled out of me in a growl that would’ve surprised me at any other time. “Here I am. Now what? You going to kill me? Or leave me here to rot?”
“If only it were that simple.” He leaned on one hand. “And I would never leave you here to die such a slow death. That is far too barbaric.”
Did he even hear himself? “And chaining me in these bones and roots isn’t? Leaving my family and me to die isn’t barbaric?”
“It was a necessary evil,” he stated. “But we can’t just kill you. Maybe before you arrived—before the Primal notam locked into place. But not now. The wolven have seen you. They’ve felt you.”
My gaze sharpened on him. “Why didn’t you change like the others? The way the King and Queen spoke, it was like they had no control over their forms. They had to answer my call.”
“It’s because I can no longer shift into my wolven form. When I broke my oath to King Malec, I severed the connection between myself and my wolven side. So, I wasn’t able to feel the Primal notam.”
Shock flickered wildly through me. I hadn’t known that. “Are you…are you still a wolven, then?”
“I still have the lifespan and the strength of a wolven, but I cannot shift into my true form.” His gaze clouded over. “Sometimes, it feels like a missing limb—the inability to feel the change come over me. But what I did, I carried out knowing full well what the consequences would be. Not many others would’ve done that.”
Gods, that had to be unbearable. It had to feel like…I had when they forced me to wear the veil. Part of me was impressed by Alastir’s loyalty to Atlantia and to the Queen. And that said a lot about his character—who he was as a man, a wolven, and what he was willing to do in service to his kingdom.
“You did that, but you won’t kill me?”
“If we were to kill you, you would become a martyr. There would be an uprising, another war, when the real battle lays to our west.” He was talking about Solis—about the Ascended. “I want to avoid that. Avoid creating even more problems for our kingdom. And soon, you will no longer be our problem.”
“If you’re not going to kill me or leave me in here to die, I’m a little confused by what you plan to do,” I bit out.
“I will give the Ascended what they were so desperate to keep,” he said. “I will give them you.”
Chapter 5
I couldn’t have heard him right. There was no way he planned to do what he’d stated.
“None will be the wiser until it’s too late,” he said. “You will be beyond their reach, like all the others the Ascended have taken.”
“That…that doesn’t even make sense,” I said, stunned when I realized that he was serious.
“It doesn’t?”
“No!” I exclaimed. “For several reasons. Starting with how you plan to get me there.”
Alastir smiled at me, and my unease grew. “Penellaphe, dear, you’re no longer within the Pillars of Atlantia. You’re in the Crypt of the Forgotten Ones, deep within the Skotos Mountains. If anyone even learns that you are here, they will not find you. We will already be gone by then.”
My insides chilled as disbelief rose. “How did you get past the Guardians?”
“Those who were unaware of our presence felt the kiss of the shadowshade.”
“And those who weren’t?” I asked, already guessing what’d happened to them. “You killed Guardians?”
“We did what needed to be done.”
“Gods,” I whispered, swallowing the anger and panic that swirled within me. “They protected Atlantia. They—”
“They were not the true Guardians of Atlantia,” he cut me off. “If they were, they would’ve struck you down the moment you appeared.”
My lip curled as I forced my breathing to remain even. “Even if you hand me over to them, how will I not be Atlantia’s problem if you give me back to the people who plan to use my blood to make more vamprys?”
He lifted his weight from his hand and sat straight. “Is that what they plan?”
“What else would they plan to do?” I demanded. All of a sudden, I remembered Duchess Teerman’s words at Spessa’s End. She had claimed that Queen Ileana would be thrilled to learn that I had married the Prince. That I would be able to do what she’d never been able to do—destroy the kingdom from within. Before I could allow those words to mix with what Alastir had said about me being a threat, I shoved them aside. Duchess Teerman had told a lot of lies before she died, starting with what she’d said about Queen Ileana, a vampry incapable of bearing children, being my grandmother. She’d also claimed that Tawny had gone through the Ascension, using Prince Malik’s blood. I couldn’t believe that, either.
Alastir eyed me silently for a moment. “Come now, Penellaphe. Do you really think the Ascended have no idea that they had the descendant of Nyktos in their grips for nearly nineteen years? Longer?”
Ian.
My breath caught. He was talking about Ian. “I was told Ian Ascended.”
“I would have no knowledge of that.”
“But you think Queen Ileana and King Jalara knew that we’re Nyktos’s descendants?” When he said nothing, I fought the urge to launch myself at him. “What does that knowledge change anyway?”
“They could use you to make more vamprys,” he agreed. “Or, they know what you’re capable of. They know what was written about you, and they plan to use you against Atlantia.”
My stomach hollowed. The idea of being handed over to the Ascended was terrifying enough. But to be used against Atlantia—against Casteel? “Then let me ask you again, how is that not Atlantia’s problem if they…?” I jerked back against the wall, my eyes widening.
“Wait a minute. You said very few people knew what Malec could do—that my gifts were like his. They could’ve guessed that Ian and I had god’s blood in us, but how would they know our lineage?” I leaned forward as far as I could. “You’re working with the Ascended, aren’t you?”
His lips thinned. “Some Ascended were alive when Malec ruled.”
“By the time Jalara fought the Atlantians at Pompay, Malec no longer sat on the throne,” I said. “Not only that, but he was able to keep the vast majority of the Atlantians in the dark about his abilities—about who he descended from. But some random Ascended knew? One who managed to survive the war? Because it sure as hell wasn’t Jalara or Ileana. They came from the Vodina Isles, where I’m willing to bet they Ascended.” My lip curled in disgust. “You claim you’re a true Protector of Atlantia, but you’ve plotted with its enemies. The people who held both of your Princes captive? The people—”
“This has nothing to do with my daughter,” he said, and I pressed my lips t
ogether. “Everything I have done, I have done for the Crown and for the kingdom.”
The Crown? A horrible coldness spread in my chest as my mind reeled from one discovery after another. I opened my mouth and then closed it before asking the question I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer to.
“What?” Alastir asked. “There’s no need to play the quiet one now. We both know that’s not who you are.”
My shoulders tightened as I lifted my gaze to his. “Did Casteel’s parents know you were going to do this?” They’d fought back in the Temple, but that could’ve been an act. “Did they know?”
Alastir studied me. “Does it matter?”
It did. “Yes.”
“They do not know about this,” he said. “They may have speculated that our…brotherhood had risen once more, but they had no hand in this. They won’t like what I’ve been a part of, but I believe they will come to see the necessity of it.” He inhaled deeply through his nose, tilting his head back. “And if they don’t, then they too will be treated as a threat.”
My eyes widened once more. “You…you’re staging a coup.”
His gaze shot back to mine. “No. I am saving Atlantia.”
“You’re saving Atlantia by working with the Ascended, putting the people of the kingdom in even more danger, and overthrowing or doing something worse to the Crown if they disagree with your actions? That is a coup. That is also treasonous.”
“Only if you’ve sworn allegiance to the heads the crown sits upon,” he countered. “And I don’t think it will come to that. Eloana and Valyn both know that protecting Atlantia may mean engaging in some most unsavory deeds.”
“And you think Casteel will go along with this?” I demanded. “That after you hand me over to the Ascended, he’ll just give up and move on? That he’ll marry your great-niece after your daughter—” I cut myself off before exposing what Shea had really done. Withholding that wasn’t for his sake. Gods, no. The desire to see his face when he learned the truth of what his daughter had done savagely burned through me, but I stopped out of respect for Casteel—for what he’d had to do.
The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood And Ash Series Book 3) Page 6