A Fire in the Flesh (Flesh and Fire, #3)

“They’re what we call a chora. They’re basically an extension of the Primal that takes the nota shape. They are created from our blood and are very much alive,” he said, his words becoming draped in a shroud of sorrow. “Iliseeum used to be full of chora. It was once a tradition, a way to honor our nota, as was the Primal notam—a bond formed with those we take the shape of. It was common when Eythos reigned, but impossible under Kolis. Most of the Primals have lost all of theirs, but the chora that still exist can do so for centuries and longer, even if the Primal they are bonded to enters Arcadia.”

Well, that was all kinds of weird. “So, this is yet another thing that has died out with Kolis?” My head jerked to the side. “How you’ve all gone along with what Kolis has done is beyond me.”

Attes’s body locked into place, tensing like a coiled spring. “With Eythos’s death, and Nyktos having no Primal embers of life, we had no choice.”

No choice? I almost laughed. If my often-irrational ass could realize there was always a choice, there was no excuse for the Primals not to have come to that conclusion after living for hundreds if not thousands of years.

Something Attes had said moments before came back to me as I smoothed my hands over my hips. “Wait a minute. This chora of yours I saw in the Red Woods, it was doing the snooping for you?”

“It’s not an it, Seraphena. It’s a hawk, flesh and blood, which you should know.”

“Whatever.” My patience was thinning. “Exactly why were you snooping before you even met me?”

“Because I already knew of your existence.” Attes’s gaze locked with mine. “I’ve known longer than either Nyktos or Kolis.”

I…I was at a loss for what to say.

“I knew what Eythos did before Kolis or Nyktos figured it out. Eythos and I were brothers in a way that he and Kolis never were. Friends,” he shared, his voice changing. It now carried the bittersweetness of the pain and joy of knowing and then losing someone. “And I was one of the few entrusted with the knowledge of what Eythos did.”

Backing up, I sat on the edge of the divan. Ash believed that Attes had been testing me that day in the study at the House of Haides, trying to feed into my emotions. And Ash became concerned, because when it didn’t work, he knew the Primal of War and Accord would realize something was up. But if Attes spoke the truth now, he’d actually been testing how strong the embers had become.

If he was speaking the truth.

His knowledge of what Eythos did explained why he’d been so quick to believe my claim regarding Sotoria. He must have known.

I looked up at him, finding the Primal watching me closely. He made sense, but I only trusted a small handful of people, and he wasn’t anywhere near that list.

“If you knew about the embers, why were you so surprised when I brought Thad back?” I asked.

“Honestly?”

“No, tell me a lie,” I retorted.

Attes grinned. “Because I have not seen life restored—real life, with my own eyes—since Eythos. But more than that? I never thought his plan would work.” A bit of wonder seeped into his tone. “Restoring life to a hawk is one thing, but a draken?” His eyes wandered upward as he shook his head. After a moment, he exhaled softly, and his gaze returned to mine. There was a sense of wonder in his expression. “Eythos was under the impression that the embers would protect you and maybe give you some ability to restore life, but not to that extent. Even before the embers he stole from Eythos died out, Kolis couldn’t bring a draken back.”

“Then why was I able to?” I blurted out.

Attes’s gaze went to the floor as his head moved from side to side once more. “I don’t know. But if I had to guess based on what I’ve seen and heard about, including your recent escape attempt?”

My eyes narrowed.

“The embers are bonding with you, allowing you to access more of the essence.” He shrugged. “It happens when gods near their Ascension, just as it does with Primals.”

I swallowed, clasping my knees as I processed everything I’d just heard, which felt slightly impossible at the moment. “Why didn’t you tell Nyktos any of this? And I don’t want to hear anything about how the knowledge would’ve endangered him. That’s bullshit. It’s not like he would’ve run off and confronted Kolis, revealing what he knew. He’s not foolish.” I leaned forward, anger sparking. “And if you think that, then you and Eythos underestimated Nyktos. That is what endangered him. If he knew about the embers from the beginning, so many things could’ve been done differently. It would’ve prevented me…”

Brow creasing, Attes knelt. “Prevented you from doing what?”

From taking that tiny bit of Ash’s blood that had inevitably put our lives on a collision course with death. My death.

“You should’ve told him,” I said instead of sharing that with him.

A long beat of silence passed as Attes stared at the tile. “You’re right, but Eythos had no choice but to keep silent. Nor did I. When he put the embers in your bloodline”—tension formed brackets at the corners of his mouth—“and put Sotoria’s soul with them? He fucked with fate in a major way. And the Arae do not like to be fucked with.”

Thinking of Holland, I grimaced. “I know all about the Fates.”

“Do you?” he asked, his head tilting. “Then you know they are the ones who prevented Eythos from telling his son what he did?”

I tensed. “I know one of the Arae. He didn’t say anything about that.”

“Of course, not. Because he probably didn’t want a comb thrown at his face.”

I glared at him.

The brief teasing glint vanished from his eyes. “You see, when you mess with fate and think you got away with it, you quickly find out you didn’t. Every action has a reaction, one that becomes either a reward or a consequence. That creates balance. And if that balance is undone in the minds of the Arae? They will reset it in the most fucked-up ways imaginable,” he said. “And in this case? They prevented Eythos and anyone else from telling Nyktos what was done. Because in their minds, that balanced things out.”

Disbelief flashed through me, leaving me feeling like I was caught in a surreal dream that no amount of pinching or shaking could snap me from. “How is what Eythos did such a huge upset to the balance when you have Kolis running around stealing embers and killing Primals?” I demanded. “How does that not mess with fate?”

Attes’s laugh was quick and harsh. “Who’s to say that Kolis got away with fucking with the Fates?”

“Looks to me like he’s doing pretty damn well for himself,” I declared.

“Is he?” Attes tossed back. “To get what he’s wanted, he’ll have to risk killing the only person he’s ever loved.”

I snapped my mouth shut. Attes had a point there. It seemed like Eythos’s actions had created the punishment for Kolis.

My foot tapped the floor as I realized Holland hadn’t been entirely forthcoming. I knew it wasn’t like he was the only Arae, and I also recognized that he had to walk a fine line between advising and interference, but I wanted to do worse than throw a comb at his face the next time I saw him.

If I did.

I exhaled loudly. “Okay, so if everything you say is true, then get Nyktos out of Dalos.”

“I would if I could.”

“If you could?” I rose, anger lodging in my chest. “You’re a Primal who flew in here as a hawk.”

“That doesn’t mean I can fly out of a cell as a hawk with Nyktos.” He stood cautiously, almost as if he expected me to throw another punch. “You see these bars? Have you touched them?”