“Well, when you list it all out like that, I think I may need to sit down,” I commented.
He kissed the bridge of my nose. “But you’re not. You’re standing. You’re dealing with it, and fuck if I’m not in awe of you right now. But I also know none of this has hit you yet, and that concerns me. You keep telling me you’re okay every time I ask how you are, and I know that can’t be true.”
“I am okay.” Mostly. I rested my cheek against his chest. I needed to be okay because none of what had happened from the moment I stepped into the Chambers of Nyktos changed the fact that we needed to find his brother and mine—
Ian.
I jerked back, my eyes going wide. “Oh, my gods. I haven’t even thought about this.” Hope exploded deep inside me, loosening tense muscles. “If I didn’t become a vampry, then that means Ian might not have, either. He could be like me. What I am. He might not be like them.”
Wariness echoed through Casteel. “That’s possible, Poppy,” he began, his tone cautious. “But he’s only been seen at night. And he’s married to an Ascended.”
The rest of what he wouldn’t say hung unspoken in the air of the dusty hunting cabin. Ian may not be my brother by blood, or we may not share the same parent that carried the eather within them. I didn’t know. But just because Casteel hadn’t seen Ian during the day or just because he was married to an Ascended didn’t mean that Ian had become one. The hope I felt now wasn’t nearly as flimsy and naïve as it had been a week ago, and that was something to hold onto.
So, I did.
Casteel made sure I didn’t run out into the late-morning sun when we stepped out onto the small alcove of a porch and saw Kieran waiting between a massive black horse—Setti—and a brown one. Setti neighed softly, shaking his glossy, black mane. Casteel slowed my steps, gradually letting me walk into the sun.
Other than enjoying the feel of it against my face, nothing happened.
I petted Setti for a moment, scratching him behind his ear as I scoured the trees around the cabin. Every so often, I saw a flash of silver or white or black among the low-hanging, gnarled branches. Brown, curled leaves and brighter, greener ones blanketed the woods surrounding the cabin. It was as if an extreme cold snap had come through, shocking the foliage. But we were in the Skotos foothills, and I could see the mist-drenched mountains looming above the trees. Wouldn’t the plant life here be used to the chilly air?
Gripping the saddle as Casteel finished strapping down the saddlebags, I lifted myself onto Setti. Once I’d situated myself, I looked over to find not only Kieran and Casteel staring at me but also a dark-skinned Atlantian. Naill had come around the side of the hunting cabin. The three of them stared as if I had done a backflip onto the horse.
“What?” I asked, touching the mess that was my hair. There had been no comb inside, and I was sure I looked as if I’d been caught in a wind tunnel.
Naill’s brows lifted as he blinked slowly. “That was…impressive.”
My brows knitted. “What was?”
“You just hoisted yourself onto Setti,” Casteel said.
“So?” The corners of my lips turned down.
“You didn’t use the stirrup,” Kieran pointed out as Naill mounted the horse that Kieran stood beside.
“What?” My frown increased. “Are you sure I didn’t?” I must have. There would’ve been no way for me to seat myself on Setti without placing my foot in the stirrup or without aid. The horse was far too tall for me to have done that, nor did I have the kind of upper body strength required for that kind of feat without a nice running start.
And I would’ve probably failed spectacularly.
“You totally didn’t,” Naill confirmed. He stared at me with a bit of wonder that I figured had more to do with the fact that I wasn’t a vampry.
“Here.” Casteel stretched up, wiggling his hands. “Get down here for a moment.”
“I just got myself up here.”
“I know, but this will only take a second.” He wiggled his fingers again. “I want to see something.”
Sighing, I placed my hands in his and let him lift me off Setti, who watched us with an air of curiosity. I really hoped that none of them expected me to seat myself again with all of them watching. “What?”
Casteel dropped my hands and stepped back. “Hit me. Hard. Like you mean it.”
My forehead creased. “Why do you want me to hit you?”
Naill folded his arms over the pommel of the saddle. “That’s a good question.”
“Hit me,” Casteel urged.
“I don’t want to hit you.”
“That would be a first,” he replied, his eyes twinkling in the sunlight.
“I don’t want to hit you right now,” I amended.
Casteel was quiet for a moment and then turned to Kieran and Naill. “Did I ever tell you guys about that time I discovered Poppy perched outside a window, clutching a book to her chest?”
My eyes narrowed as Naill said, “No, but I have a lot of questions.”
“Cas,” I started.
He shot me a slow smile of warning. “She had this book—it’s her favorite. She even brought it with her when we left Masadonia.”
“I did not,” I stated.
“She’s embarrassed about it,” he went on, “because it’s a sex book. And not just any sex book. It’s full of all kinds of dirty and unimaginable—”
I snapped forward, punching him in the stomach.
“Fuck,” Casteel doubled over with a grunt as Naill let out a low whistle. “Gods.”
I crossed my arms. “Happy now?”
“Yeah,” he exhaled raggedly. “I will be once I can breathe again.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Damn.” Casteel looked up at me, his eyes slightly wide. “You are…strong.”
“Told you,” Kieran commented. “I told you she was strong.”
A memory of Kieran telling Casteel that after I’d tried to eat him flashed. My stomach dropped as my arms loosened and fell to my sides. “You think I’ve gotten stronger?”
“Think?” Casteel laughed. “I know. You’ve always been able to hit hard, but that was something else.”
“I actually didn’t hit you as hard as I could,” I said.
He stared at me. “Well, damn.”
“Do not ask me to hit you again. I’m not going to do it,” I told him.
A slow smile crept over his face, and I tasted…lush spice against my tongue. “There is something so wrong with you,” I muttered.
A dimple appeared in his right cheek as I turned away from him. Not even a second later, he was next to me, kissing the corner of my lips. “I like that,” he said, placing his hands on my hips. “A lot.”
Flushing to the roots of my hair, I said nothing as I gripped the saddle. This time, Casteel gave me the boost I may not have needed. He swung up behind me, taking the reins. I honestly didn’t know what to think about the possibility that I was stronger. I didn’t have the headspace for it. So, I added that to the list of things to dwell on later as I turned to Naill. “Thank you.”
He stared at me, his forehead creasing. “For what?”
“For helping Casteel in Irelone. For helping me,” I said.
A grin appeared as he glanced between Casteel and I, shaking his head. “You’re welcome, Penellaphe.”
“You can call me Poppy,” I said, thinking that all who aided were those I could consider friends. It didn’t matter if they had helped because they felt obligated to Casteel or not. It didn’t matter to me.
His grin grew into a striking smile. “You’re welcome, Poppy.”
Feeling my cheeks heat again, I looked around. “Where are Delano and Jasper?” I asked as Casteel steered Setti toward the woods. “And the rest?”
“They’re all around us,” Casteel said, nudging Setti forward.
“They don’t have horses?” I frowned at the top of Kieran’s head. “Where is your horse?”
Kieran shook his head. “T
he trip through the Skotos will be fast and hard. It takes less energy for us to be in our wolven forms. Plus, we cover much more ground this way.”
Huh. I hadn’t known that. I watched Kieran walk ahead of us. As he neared the trees, he reached down and gripped the hem of his tunic. I realized that he was already barefoot. He pulled the tunic over his head and off. Lean muscles along the length of his back bunched, and his arm tensed as he tossed the shirt aside.
“That seems wasteful,” I muttered, watching the black tunic float for a few moments before it slowly drifted to the ground. His breeches joined it seconds later.
Naill sighed as he moved his horse forward. Shifting sideways on the saddle, he stretched out an arm as he hung low and swiped up the discarded clothing. “I should’ve just left them there so you could return to the kingdom buck-ass naked.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kieran raise an arm and extend a middle finger. I told myself not to look but I knew he was about to shift, and there was something utterly fascinating about that. I couldn’t stop myself. I peeked, keeping my gaze northwards.
Not like that did any good.
Kieran pitched forward, and for a moment, I saw way more than I should have. Then he changed, his skin thinning and darkening. Bones cracked and stretched, fusing back together. Fawn-colored fur sprouted along his back, covering the muscles as they thickened and grew. Claws slammed into the ground, stirring up leaves and dirt. Seconds. It had only taken seconds, and then Kieran prowled ahead of us in his wolven form.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing that,” I whispered.
“Which part?” Casteel asked. “The shifting, or Kieran stripping?”
Naill snorted as he righted himself on the saddle, shoving Kieran’s clothing into his bag.
“Neither,” I admitted, my gaze lifting to the trees as we entered the woods. The tops were deformed, the limbs twisted downward as if a great hand had landed over top of them, attempting to push them into the ground. “Are the trees like this always?”
“They were like that when we arrived at the cabin,” Casteel answered, curling his arm around my waist as leaves and thin branches crunched under Setti’s hooves. “But they never looked like that before.”
“What could’ve caused that?”
“A hell of a storm must have come through here,” he said, and when I glanced at Naill, he was looking up at them, too. As far as we could see, the trees were bent and misshapen.
What kind of storm could do that? Unsettled by the sight, I fell quiet as we traveled forward. It didn’t take long for us to reach the mist obscuring the mountains. It was so thick and white that it was like soup. Even though I knew it wouldn’t hurt me, I still tensed as Kieran loped through. I noticed the other wolven then, streaking out of the haunting woods around us and entering the mist with hesitation. I spotted Jasper and Delano as they came to our sides, joining the two horses. Wispy tendrils of mist curled around their legs and bodies.
Delano lifted his head as he prowled between Naill’s horse and Setti, looking up at me. I gave him an awkward wave as I thought of Beckett disappearing into the mist the first time I’d entered the Skotos.
But that hadn’t been Beckett.
Heart heavy, I faced forward, bracing myself to enter the opaque nothingness. My eyes narrowed. The mist didn’t seem as thick as I remembered. Or it moved, swirling and thinning.
“That’s different,” Casteel noted, and his grip around my waist tightened.
The mist scattered as we entered, spreading out and opening a clear path for us. I twisted, looking behind us. The mist came together again, sealing into a thick, seemingly impenetrable mass. Turning around, I spotted several of the wolven ahead, their fur glossy in the sunlight.
Eager to see the stunning display of the golden trees of Aios, I looked up as soon as we cleared what was left of the mist.
“My gods,” Naill whispered.
Casteel stiffened behind me as Setti slowed, the horse shaking his head nervously. Ahead of us, the wolven had come to a stop, as well, their bodies rigid with tension as they too looked up. My lips parted as a wave of shivers erupted across my skin.
Red.
Deep crimson leaves gleamed like a million pools of blood in the sunlight.
The golden trees of Aios had all become blood trees.
Chapter 12
Under a canopy of glittering ruby instead of gold, we climbed the Skotos Mountains at a harsh pace that left little room to question what had happened to the trees of Aios. Not that either Casteel or Naill had an answer. I could feel their shock and unease just as strongly as I felt the same emotions radiating from the wolven as red instead of gold glistened from the bark of the magnificent, sweeping trees.
We split into groups as before, even though there were only faint wisps of mist seeping through prickly shrubs and curling along the thick moss covering the forest floor on the mountain. Kieran and Delano stayed with us as we moved steadily up. There were no sounds of birds or any animals, and while the branches, heavy with gleaming crimson leaves, swayed above us, there was no echo of wind, either. No one spoke beyond Casteel asking if I was hungry or Naill offering his flask, claiming the whiskey would help keep us warm the farther we traveled. Hours into the journey, we stopped long enough to take care of personal needs, feed the horses, and for both Naill and Casteel to don their cloaks. Once I was basically swaddled in the blanket Casteel had brought from the cabin, we continued on in the mountains that were still beautiful in a quiet, unsettling way. I couldn’t stop staring at the leaves above me and the deep red ones that had fallen to the ground, peeking out from behind rocks and shrubs. It was as if the entire mountain had turned into one massive Blood Forest—one absent of the Craven.
What had changed the golden trees that had grown through the foothills and the entire mountain range after the goddess Aios had gone to sleep somewhere in the mountain? That question haunted me with each hour that passed. I may enjoy dabbling in denial every now and again, but there could be no coincidence between the change that had occurred here and what had happened to me. Three times now, a tree had grown rapidly where my blood had fallen, and in the ruins of Castle Bauer, the roots of that tree had seemed to gather around me—around Casteel and I both, as if the tree had tried to pull us into the ground or shield us. I didn’t know, but I clearly remembered Kieran tearing through the slick, dark gray roots.
Roots that had been identical to the ones that had wrapped around the bone chains.
Had my near-death done this to the trees here? And the deformed woods outside of the hunting cabin? Had the potential loss of my mortality been the storm that swept through the woods and changed the trees of Aios to blood trees? How, though? And why? And had it impacted the goddess who slept here somehow? The one who Casteel and Kieran believed had awoken to stop me from plummeting to my death?
I hoped not.
Despite the uneasy nature of the mountains and the brutal pace, exhaustion dogged me, and I began to sink farther and farther into Casteel’s embrace. Each time I blinked, it became harder to reopen my eyes to the beams of sunlight streaking through the gaps in the leaves overhead.
Under the blanket, I curled my fingers loosely around Casteel’s arm as I shifted my gaze to where Kieran and Delano ran side by side ahead of us. My thoughts wandered as my eyes started to drift closed. I had no idea how long I’d slept after Casteel gave me his blood and we arrived at the cabin. I hadn’t thought to ask, but it felt like I’d slept for a while. But that sleep hadn’t been deep. Not all of it anyway because I had dreamed. I remembered that now. I had dreamt of the night my parents died, and those dreams had been different than the ones before. My mother had pulled something from her boot—something long, slender, and black. I couldn’t see it now, no matter how hard I tried to remember, but someone else had also been there—someone she’d spoken to, who had sounded nothing like the voice I’d heard in the past—the one who had spoken with my father that I now knew belonge
d to Alastir. This had been a figure in black. I knew I had dreamed more, but it kept slipping out of reach within my tired mind. Was whatever I dreamed old memories that were finally revealing themselves? Or had they been implanted there, becoming a part of my imagination because of what Alastir had claimed about the Dark One?
But what hadn’t felt like a dream, what had felt real, was the woman I’d seen. The one with the long, silvery-blonde hair, who’d filled my mind when I was in the Chambers of Nyktos. She had appeared when I was no longer a body, without substance or thought, floating in the nothingness. She had looked like me a little. She had more freckles, her hair was different, and her eyes were odd—a fractured green and silver, reminding me of how the wolven’s eyes had looked when they came to me in the Chambers.
A bloody tear had slid down her cheek. That meant she had to be a god, but I knew of no female gods who were depicted with such hair or features. A weary frown pulled at my lips as I tried to sit up straighter. She had said something to me, too—something that had been a shock. I could almost hear her voice in my mind now, but just like with the dreams of the night at the inn, clarity frustratingly existed on the fringes of my consciousness.
Casteel shifted me so my head rested more fully against his chest. “Rest,” he urged in a soft voice. “I’ve got you. You can rest.”
It didn’t seem right for me to do so when no one else could, but I couldn’t fight the lure. It wasn’t the deepest of sleep. Things I wanted to forget followed me. I found myself back in the crypts, chained to the wall. Bile crept up my throat as I turned my head to the side.
Oh, gods.
I came face to face with one of the corpses, its empty eye sockets tunnels of nothingness as it shuddered.
Dust sifted through the air as its jaw loosened, and a raspy, dry voice came out of the lipless mouth. “You’re just like us.” Teeth fell from its jaws, crumbling apart as they did. “You will end up just like us.”
I pressed back as far as I could go, feeling the bindings tighten on my wrists and my legs. “This isn’t real—”
The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood And Ash Series Book 3) Page 15