“Good.” Kolis’s voice was warm once more—gentle, even. The way he switched back and forth so quickly was unnerving. “She cannot die. I need you to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Confusion arose. Between the blood loss and my worry for Ash, my addled brain was having a hard time processing everything, and many things were a blur. But even in this state, I had no idea how Phanos could assist.
“If you do not wish for her to die, can you not do what you’ve done to the others?” Phanos questioned. “Make her one of your Revenants. She is a godling, is she not? That shouldn’t be a problem, should it?”
But I wasn’t a godling—the offspring of a mortal and a god. However, it was how I felt to the gods and Primals because of the embers. Either way, Phanos clearly knew about the Revenants. Maybe all the Primals but Ash did. But Phanos didn’t know about the embers.
I wasn’t sure what to make of that. Was there anything to gain? But I hadn’t even thought of Kolis turning me into whatever the Revenants were. Could he even do that? What would that—?
“That is only death reborn,” Kolis answered, the warmth straining. “And I cannot risk her soul being stolen away in the process of the rebirth.”
Two things happened at once. One, I realized that a Revenant had to die to become one. And the second thing? Phanos realized exactly why Kolis was here.
“Is that her?” he whispered. “Your graeca?”
A burst of anger lit my insides, temporarily replacing the coldness that seemed to have penetrated every part of me. Words scorched my tongue, and I wanted nothing more than for them to make it past my lips. I wasn’t his graeca. Neither was Sotoria. We didn’t belong to him. I willed my mouth to move, just as I had earlier when I yelled at Ash and Kolis, but the embers only sputtered weakly, and all I managed was a whimpering sound.
“She… I believe so.” Kolis’s fingers pressed into the flesh of my arm and hip. “I’m holding her soul in her body. I’m not sure…” He faltered, the weight of his words a whispered admission. “I’m not sure how much longer I will be able to do so.”
I thought of the pins-and-needles sensation I’d felt when he placed his hand on my chest. Was that it? When he grabbed hold of my soul—our souls?
Shock rippled through me. The god Saion hadn’t believed that Kolis retained enough power to summon a soul like Ash could. Did this mean there were still some embers of life in him? Or was this a byproduct of the true embers of death? I wasn’t sure, but it explained why I was still alive—well, barely.
“You know what you ask of me,” Phanos voiced quietly, wind whipping across the water and tossing the edges of my hair over the sand.
“I am not asking.”
Small bumps of unease prickled my skin as Phanos tipped his head to the side. A muscle in his jaw throbbed. Then he slipped below the water. A moment or so later, the ceeren went still. The smaller ones, the children, swam deeper and deeper, disappearing from sight.
Phanos resurfaced less than a foot from the sand. Water coursed over the smooth skin of his head and streamed down his chest. Wordlessly, he extended his arms to us.
Kolis hesitated, not moving at first, and then he lifted me once more. “If she dies, I will destroy your entire Court,” he swore, handing me to the Primal who hadn’t approached neither Ash nor me during my coronation.
Once more, panic seized me as Phanos took me into his arms, and the embers in me briefly flared. My heart rammed against my ribs, but I thought I felt Phanos’s chest rise sharply against mine. Warm, fizzing water lapped against my legs, and then everything below my chest was underwater. What thin breaths I managed seized. I loved being in my lake back in the mortal realm and enjoyed splashing around in Ash’s pool, but I couldn’t swim. And this…this was the sea a Primal was carrying me into.
“Nyktos once took what belonged to me.”
My wide eyes and frightened gaze darted from the star-strewn sky to Phanos. He was speaking about Saion and Rhahar.
“I should be amused to see something of his taken from him.” With his featherlight voice, it was hard to hear him over the seething water. “But I find no joy in this.” Wisps of silvery eather surged in his eyes. “I can sense your panic. There is no need. What would be the point in harming you when you’re already dying?”
How in this realm and beyond was that supposed to be even remotely reassuring?
One side of Phanos’s lips kicked up.
On second thought, I didn’t think he’d meant what he said to be reassuring at all.
“You’re in the water off the Triton Isles, near the coast of Hygeia,” Phanos continued. “Do you know what that means? Of course, you don’t. Most of the other Primals are not even aware, including Nyktos.” Phanos drifted out even farther. “I wonder if he’d have already brought you here if he’d known.”
I truly wasn’t following most of what he was saying. All I could think about was how deep the water must be.
“Water is the source of all life and healing. Without it, even the Primal of Life wouldn’t hold power…if that power was to be held.” A wry, humorless smile appeared. “Those born here, the ceeren, carry that source within them. It’s a gift that heals, just as the water does.”
His eyes met mine, and I heard…singing—soft strains in an unfamiliar language. The eather had stopped whirling in Phanos’s eyes, and I thought maybe I saw a shadow of sadness there. But I had to be imagining it. This was the same Primal who’d flooded the Kingdom of Phythe because he’d been insulted.
“For most in your…state, this would provide a cure. But for you? You are no godling, Consort. I felt them the moment our skin touched.” Phanos’s head lowered, and he whispered, “The embers of Primal power. Strong ones. Too strong for a mortal, and that’s what you are.” The bridge of his nose brushed mine. “Or were.”
The suffocating feeling of helplessness rose, making me jerk. I had no idea what he would do. Any Primal could attempt to take the embers, just as Kolis had from Eythos, and what could I do to stop it? Nothing. My fingers, all that I could move, curled into my palms. I wasn’t used to being unable to defend myself. The feeling made me want to scratch my skin off. Fury whipped through me, crashing into my panic until desperation choked me.
“You have embers of life in you. Which means Eythos dealt the final—perhaps winning—blow to his brother, did he not?” Phanos glanced at the shore, the tendrils of eather in his eyes burning as brightly as the moon. A low chuckle came from him. “Ah, you have always been his weakness, haven’t you? I could take those embers myself.”
I stared up at him, wondering if it would be better if Phanos did just that. Although considering how he’d flooded a kingdom in the mortal realm over the cancellation of a tradition meant to honor him, probably not.
“But then I’d be fighting Kolis and Nyktos, the latter likely to be as displeased as the former, at least based on what I saw at your coronation. I am no fool.” He turned us in the water so his back was to the shore. His damp forehead brushed mine. “What truly ails you goes deeper than blood loss and cannot be circumvented, Consort. It can only be delayed, no matter how steep the price or how often it is paid.”
A steep price? What—?
“When this is all done, and you still breathe?” The bridge of his nose brushed mine again. “Remember the gifts given to you tonight.”
Before I could even process what he’d said, churning water rose over our heads, and we dipped below the surface. Phanos’s mouth closed over mine, causing my entire body to go rigid at the contact. He didn’t kiss me. He breathed into my mouth, the panels of my gown floating around me and my arms following as we sank. Phanos’s breath was cool, fresh, and powerful, like swallowing the wind.