A Shadow in the Ember (Flesh and Fire 1)

“I think I might know,” Nyktos said, drawing my gaze. He was watching Holland as if he were a few minutes away from pitching him through the open ceiling. “The nursemaid spoke the truth. The Arae had been present upon her birth and you, being one of the Arae, learned of the deal somehow and took the place of the one who was supposed to train her.” He paused. “To kill me.”

“To kill,” Holland corrected.

“Did it not occur to you to inform her of the pointlessness behind that endeavor?” Nyktos demanded, and I was glad he’d brought it up.

“I couldn’t. All I could do was train her.”

“I should thank you for that part,” Nyktos replied, and I could already tell that wouldn’t happen. “But you’re Arae. You’re not allowed to intervene in fate.”

“He didn’t.” The goddess smiled, and Nyktos shot her an incredulous look. “Not technically,” she amended.

“I never directly interfered,” Sir Holland said, and I really needed to stop thinking of him as a knight when he was basically a god. “That’s why I couldn’t tell you who I was or that the Rot wasn’t tied to the deal. If I did, then it would have been considered interference. I was pushing it when I gave you the tea.”

“You were pushing it by even being around her. So, it sounds an awful lot like semantics.” Nyktos folded his arms over his chest. “Does Embris know about this? Of your involvement?”

My heart skipped. That was why Nyktos didn’t sound exactly thrilled by this reveal. If Embris knew, the Primal could tell Kolis about me.

“If I had truly intervened, he would have known. But he’s currently unaware of the deal and who the source of power is.”

“Wait. How is that possible?” I asked, realizing something I hadn’t before. “If the Arae answer to his Court, how could he not know about the deal—about everything?”

“Because the Arae don’t answer to Embris. They just live there,” Nyktos explained, angling his body so that the side of his hips brushed my arm. “Fate answers to no Primal.”

“Unless we overstep,” Holland tacked on. “By directly interfering.”

I had to agree with Nyktos that it sounded like semantics, but I had more pressing questions. “Why did you even get involved? You were with me for so long. The number of years…” Did he not have a family? Friends? Those he missed? Or had he gone back and forth?

“It was a long time,” Penellaphe spoke up. “Those years were a very long time.”

“I did it because I knew I needed to. It wasn’t easy, being gone for so long and so often, but this was bigger than me. Bigger than all of us.” Holland leaned against a pillar and lifted his gaze to Nyktos. “I did it because I knew your father. I knew him when he was the true Primal of Life. I considered him a friend.”

I glanced up at Nyktos, but nothing could be gained from his expression. “Did you know what was to become of him?” he asked.

Holland shook his head. “No. The Arae cannot see the fate of a risen Primal.” Grief crept into his voice. “If I could have, I don’t know if I would still be sitting here today. I don’t…I don’t think I could’ve sat by and done nothing.”

My brows knitted together. “You would’ve intervened? What is the punishment for that?”

“Death,” Nyktos answered. “The final kind.”

I shuddered as my gaze swung back to him. Fear rose. “Is it okay that you’re here?” I felt the brush of Nyktos’ fingers against mine. The touch surprised me, but the soft hum of contact was calming. “Should you leave?”

“The Arae can do nothing to intervene in your fate,” Penellaphe advised. “Not anymore.”

Her words…they felt like an omen, leaving me chilled.

“Then you know why we summoned you. Can you tell us why my father did this?” Nyktos asked. “Why he would put such power into a mortal bloodline—what he hoped to accomplish from that?”

“The better question is what your father did exactly,” Holland countered. “As you know, your father was the true Primal of Life. Kolis couldn’t take everything. That would be impossible. Embers of life still remained in Eythos, just as embers of death remained in Kolis. And when you were conceived, part of that ember passed onto you. Just a flicker of the power. Not as strong as the ember that remained in your father, but enough.”

Nyktos shook his head. “No,” he said. “I never had that ability. I have always been this—”

“You wouldn’t have known if you had that ember until you went through the Culling. But your father took that ember from you before Kolis could learn that you had it in you,” Holland explained. “Eythos knew that Kolis would’ve seen you as even more of a threat. One that his brother would’ve extinguished.”