“How old is oldest?” I prodded.
He raised a brow. “Pushing two thousand years old.”
“W-what?” I stuttered, thinking of Cillian Da’Lahon, who The History of The War of Two Kings and the Kingdom of Solis claimed saw over two thousand and seven hundred years before his death. “Is that common? To live that long?”
Jasper nodded. “In times of peace and prosperity, yes.”
“And, yes, a wolven can live that long, too,” Kieran chimed in before I could ask.
My mind was…well, it couldn’t even comprehend living that long. How did one not grow tired of everything after that many years? I thought about the subject matter in Willa’s book, and figured that probably explained a lot.
I shook my head, hoping it would clear. “Can she do what Jansen could? Take on others’ images?”
Jasper shook his head. “No. Jansen was…gods, he had to be the last of the changelings that could do that.”
As terrible as it sounded, I felt relief. “Who are the Elders of Atlantia?”
“They are a type of Council who helps to rule alongside the King and Queen when needed,” Casteel explained, tugging gently on my braid. “Normally, they are never called on unless a major decision needs to be made. The last time they came together was when Malik was taken, I believe.” A sharp swirl of anguish pulsed through him. “I wasn’t in Evaemon when that happened. I was here.”
He’d been here recovering, trying to piece himself back together. My chest ached for him.
“You better believe they’ve been called now,” Jasper’s tone was dry, and my stomach tumbled. “You just might get to ask Willa about the book you were talking about.”
Oh, gods.
While I did have a lot of questions for her, I wasn’t sure I could hold a conversation because I would be thinking about wicked kisses and foursomes.
But I really didn’t need to focus on that. Because if a Council had been convened, I knew why—my arrival and everything that had happened.
“As much as I want to hear more about Miss Willa, we have more pressing things to deal with,” Casteel stated, surprising me. “How does one enter Iliseeum if they cannot do so by land or sea?”
Jasper didn’t answer for a long moment. “You know, you would’ve learned about it when you took the throne.” His gaze touched mine for a brief moment, and I knew what he meant. That Casteel would’ve learned when I took the Crown. “You don’t travel over or through the Mountains of Nyktos. You travel under them.”
An icy wave of surprise scuttled through Casteel. “The tunnel system?”
Jasper nodded. “The one from Evaemon leads into Iliseeum if—and that’s a big if—you know how to navigate it.”
“Damn,” Kieran muttered, scrubbing a hand over his head. “All those years messing around in those tunnels and we could’ve ended up in the damn Lands of the Gods.”
It struck me as a very odd coincidence that Casteel and Kieran had spent their childhood attempting to map out those tunnels and caverns, and this whole time, they could’ve taken Cas right to this Lands of the Gods. Had he or his brother been drawn to them? If so, had it been some sort of divine intervention?
I stayed way too long in the shower the following morning, testing the limits of exactly how long the water would remain hot.
Feeling the warm water pelting my skin and washing the soapy suds away was truly too much of a magical feeling to rush. The shower felt like it cleansed more than soap, as if it were rinsing away the stickiness of confusion that prevented me from looking past the shock of everything I had discovered and learned. That could’ve been my imagination, but by the time I forced myself to turn off the faucets, I felt like I could face what today held.
What awaited me in Atlantia.
And maybe it wasn’t just the shower, but all the hours of deep sleep I’d ended up stacking up over the last day or so. It could’ve been last night, when Jasper had left, and Kieran wanted to discuss the tunnel systems. Casteel had taken the seat Kieran had occupied, rearranging me so I was all but cradled against him as they spoke. I was amazed by how much they recalled regarding the tunnels, still able to remember the differences in certain underground rock formations and the scents that changed depending on which tunnel they were in. I’d only briefly been in the one that led to the beautiful, lilac-filled cavern in Spessa’s End, and the other that rested below New Haven, to view the names of those who had died at the hands of the Ascended.
So many more names needed to be added to that wall.
But as they talked, I couldn’t help but wonder if some kind of prophecy did exist. If hardly anyone knew that Iliseeum rested beyond the mountains, then was it possible for there to be a prophecy that no one knew about? Or was that comparing apples to oranges? I didn’t know.
Before Kieran left, I’d asked about the wolven named Sage—the one who was supposed to be patrolling the wall. She had been found on the other side of the wall, having been struck from behind. The injury and the subsequent fall from the wall would’ve either seriously injured or killed a mortal, but according to Kieran, who had checked in on the wolven before returning to our rooms with the book, she would recover in a day or so. Hearing that and learning that there had been no casualties among the wolven or anyone else who had engaged in the battle with the Gyrms had filled me with a lot of relief. That could’ve aided in me not feeling so overwhelmed.
It also could’ve been the sweet kiss that Casteel had given me after I woke this morning and before he left to shower. Or how his eyes were pools of warm gold when he looked upon me. Before he left the bed, he’d told me that his father’s visit had been borne of worry. That he hadn’t liked how things had ended between them in the Temple of Saion. I was glad to hear that they’d cleared the air between them—at least a little bit before those creatures showed. I also shared with him what I had confirmed with Kieran about being able to communicate with him. Casteel…well, he took in that newest development like he had everything else. He was curious, awed, and completely unbothered by it, and that helped me be somewhat unfazed by the fact that I had done something that only Nyktos could.
Either way, it could’ve been one or all of those things that’d made me feel prepared for everything Casteel and I had to discuss and figure out.
I found the clothing Vonetta had given me in Spessa’s End hanging among several other brightly colored garments that her mother had given Casteel for me to wear. The only visible white I saw in the entire wardrobe were two slips. A smile tugged at my lips, and I didn’t stop it—didn’t even have to think about concealing it like I had when I’d been the Maiden.
Casteel.
This was all him. He’d made sure there was little white to be found in my options.
Gods, I loved that man.
I started to reach for a tunic with frilly sleeves, but a stunning, cobalt blue, buttery-soft muslin drew my attention. The gown was simple, reminding me of what the Ladies in Solis called a day dress but was far better suited for the warmer climate of Saion’s Cove. The bodice was layered and cinched, erasing the need for a slip. The near-sheer gown was gathered at the waist and the hips by a sky-blue chain girdle, and the material bunched at the shoulders. It was sleeveless.
My gaze shifted back to the tunics and the other dresses that featured wide, elbow-length sleeves that offered a bit of coverage. I hesitated. Normally, I preferred to wear breeches or the lighter leggings and something that hid the scars on my arms, but the color was beautiful. I’d never worn anything like it. I’d never been allowed.
And I didn’t need to hide my scars.
I grabbed an undergarment and pulled the gown off the hanger. I changed into the dress, relieved that it fit well enough. I found a brush and worked out the tangles in my hair. There wasn’t much I could do with it outside of braiding it, so I left it down and then found a pair of sandals in the wardrobe that tied at the ankles. I hitched up the folds of the skirt, sheathing the dagger to my thigh.
Casteel was waiting for me in the sitting room, standing before one of the open lattice doors with his arms loosely folded across his chest. A warm breeze flowed into the room and was spun about by the dual ceiling fans. He started to turn as I walked under the archway. “There is some fruit. And, of course, your favorite, cheese…” He trailed off, his lips parting until the tips of his fangs became visible.
“What?” I stopped, glancing down at myself while smoothing an imaginary wrinkle from the skirt. “Do I look foolish? The bodice is a bit tight.” I fiddled with the cowl neckline. “Or is it outdated? I figure this must be one of Vonetta’s older gowns since she’s taller than I am, but the length is almost a perfect fit for—”
“Unworthy.”
“Excuse me?”
“I am unworthy of you,” he stated roughly. “You are a dream.”
My fingers fell away from the neckline as I looked over at him.
Casteel’s arms had fallen to his sides as his gaze swept over me. His chest rose sharply. “Your hair. That gown.” His eyes heated. “You are so beautiful, Poppy.”
“Thank you.” I felt my throat warm as my heart swelled. “And you are worthy.”
He smiled as he cleared his throat. “Please tell me you’re wearing your dagger.”
Fighting a grin, I lifted the right side of the skirt to my thigh.
Casteel groaned. “Gods, you’re perfect.”
“And you are demented,” I said. “Worthy, but demented.”
“I’ll take that.”
I laughed. “Did I hear you mention cheese?”
“You did.” He extended an arm to the table. “Help yourself.”
I did exactly that, seating myself at the table and immediately reaching for chunks of yumminess.
“What would you like to drink?” he asked, joining me. “There’s water, wine, and whiskey—the three Ws of life.”
I arched a brow. “Wine.”
He smirked as he poured the faint pink liquid and then fixed himself a glass of whiskey. I tentatively tasted the wine, pleased to find that it tasted like strawberries. “What do you think about the whole Iliseeum thing?” I asked since we hadn’t really talked about that.
“Honestly?” He let out a low laugh. “I really don’t know. I grew up believing that Iliseeum existed in a realm beside ours but not part of ours. Just like the Vale and the Abyss. And to think my parents always knew? Alastir? Jasper?” Casteel shook his head. “But then you really didn’t know Iliseeum was real at all. It had to be more of a shock to you.”
“It was,” I admitted, squinting. “But there is still so much I don’t know. I’m kind of in a constant state of surprise, but it’s amazing to think that at one time, when the gods were awake, they were right there. I wonder how often they interacted with Atlantians and mortals.”
“Not often from what I’ve been taught. But that too may not be exactly true.” He ate a piece of cheese. “The crazy thing, Poppy? Is that Malik, Kieran, and I must have gotten close to Iliseeum at some point. We traveled those tunnels heading east. We always ended up stopping, though, at some point.”
“Was there ever a reason for you to stop?”
His brows lifted. “At the time, no, but looking back now? Yes. We always started to feel weird, like we needed to go back home. It was something that none of us could explain. We chalked it up to us being afraid of getting caught for being gone too long. But now I think we were being warned away by the magic that guards Iliseeum. It made sure we never got too close.”
“I suppose that’s a good thing. Who knows what would’ve happened if you all had made it to Iliseeum?”
He grinned. “Well, if our presence woke the gods, I’m sure we would’ve won them over with our stunning personalities.”
I laughed. “I was thinking last night that your interest in the tunnels almost feels like divine intervention.”
“It does feel that way, doesn’t it?”
I nodded. A few moments passed, and I peeked over at him. He was quiet as he picked through the fruit, handing me a plump grape and then a dewy slice of melon. “I know we have to talk. You don’t have to delay it any longer.”
“We do.” Leaning back in his chair, he dragged his teeth over his lower lip as he continued rooting through the fruit. “Something I didn’t go into a lot of detail on this morning was something my father shared with me last night. Every member of the Guards of the Crown, from here to Evaemon, are being checked for possible involvement or knowledge of what the others were doing.”
“Have others been discovered?” I asked.
“None believed to have been directly involved so far,” he said as I took the strawberry he offered, and he picked up a piece of roasted meat for himself. “But there have been a few who suspected that something was going on with those working with Alastir. And some expressed concern about your presence.”
“Well that isn’t that surprising, is it?”
“Not really, but it leaves me wondering exactly how much they truly knew of what the others planned.” His fingers folded around his glass. “My father even believes that the ones involved with the attack may have spoken openly with those who weren’t, basically infecting others with their nonsense.”
Alastir’s and the other’s beliefs and words truly were like an infection, but was it one that could be cured? As we ate, I thought of those who had first attacked me. “The people who were at the Chambers?” I said, and Casteel stilled for a moment before picking up a napkin and wiping his fingers clean. “Once they realized what I was, one of them asked the gods to forgive them.”
A cruel, tight smile formed over the rim of his glass as he took a drink. “They won’t.”
“I…I hope they do.”
His brows lifted. “That is too kind of you, Poppy.”
“They didn’t kill me—”
“They wanted to.”
“Thanks for the unnecessary reminder.”
“It sounds like a very necessary reminder,” he replied flatly.
I resisted the urge to throw the piece of cheese I held. “Just because I hope they’re not wasting away in the Abyss for all eternity doesn’t mean I’m okay with what they tried to do to me.”
“Well, I do.”
I ignored that. “They were obviously very misinformed.”
“So?”
“What I’m trying to say is they weren’t like Alastir or Jansen or those who wore the Descenter masks. Their minds were made up. Nothing was going to change that.” I tossed the piece of cheese onto the platter. “But the ones at the Chambers? The others who may have known something was going on, or have concerns? Whatever opinions they’ve formed can be changed. It’s not a…fatal infection. They’re not the mindless Gyrms or the Craven.””
“Sounds pretty fatal to me,” he commented.
I took a shallow breath. “If the people in the Chambers had changed their minds before it was too late and they had survived, I wouldn’t want to see them killed now.”
Casteel opened his mouth as he lowered his glass to the cream-hued linen covering the table.
“I know what you’re going to say. You would see them killed. I would see them given a second chance if they were misled. And after,” I stressed, “they were punished appropriately. It’s obvious they were taught or…indoctrinated into this way of thinking. And those who may have known what the others were involved in? The ones who have concerns now? That can be changed.”
He eyed me as he dragged his fingers over the rim of his glass. “You really believe that?”
“Yes. I do. People can’t be killed simply because they have concerns. That is something the Ascended would do,” I told him. “And if we believe that people aren’t able to change the way they think and what they believe or how they behave, then what is the point of giving the Ascended a chance to change their ways? What would be the point of hoping for change in anything?”
“Touché,” he murmured, tipping his glass to me.
“You don’t bel
ieve that people are capable of change?” I asked.
“I do,” he admitted. “I just don’t care if they are if they’re the people who’ve harmed you.”
“Oh.” I picked up another small cube of cheese. That wasn’t exactly surprising to hear. I moved onto something we really hadn’t discussed, not even when it was brought up with Jasper. “Well, you need to start caring. I don’t want people killed because they don’t trust me or like me. I don’t want to be a part of that.”
“You’re asking me to care about those who potentially had knowledge of those who have not only betrayed me but also betrayed you,” he countered quietly. “I believe the technical term would be that they committed treason against me and you.”
“Yes, but having beliefs or concerns that have not been acted upon does not immediately equal treason. If there is evidence that they were aware and did nothing, they should, at the very least, have a trial. Or is Atlantia no different than Solis when it comes to due process?”
“Atlantia believes in due process, but there are exceptions. Namely—you guessed it—treason.”
“Still, if people have been misled, they should be given the chance to redeem themselves, Cas.”
His eyes flared an intense shade of amber. “You’re not playing fair, Princess, knowing how much I love hearing you call me that.”
The corners of my lips curved up just the faintest bit.
He tsked softly. “Already wrapping me around your finger.”
I fought the smile. “I’ll only wrap you around my finger if you agree with me.”
Casteel laughed at that. “I agree,” he stated. “But…my condition is that I agree to hear them speak—to state their case. They’re going to have to be really convincing if they have any hope of surviving.”
My shout of victory died a little before it reached my lips. “I don’t like your condition.”
“Too bad.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Sorry,” he demurred, not even sounding remotely apologetic. “What I meant to say is that we’re compromising between our two wants. I’m meeting you halfway here. I am giving them a chance.”
The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood And Ash Series Book 3) Page 28
