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

“Yes.” I began pacing. “It didn’t feel that great.”

“Of course, not. They are bones of the Ancients.” He jerked his chin at them. “They’re chock-full of eather and powerful wards.”

Bones? My lip curled as I noted the discoloration in the gold once more.

Ew.

“Those bones, when wielded as a weapon? Prick even the skin of a god? Dead. And because of the embers, if I try to take you through them and you get nicked? Dead. They can even put a Primal into years-long stasis,” he told me. “Nyktos is just as imprisoned by them as you are, and he’s far more guarded.”

Slowly, I faced him as an image formed—the weapon the Primal of the Hunt and Divine Justice had held. “Was that what Hanan’s spear was made of?”

He nodded.

“Then, clearly, the bones of the Ancients can be destroyed,” I said.

“Only by two Primals: the Primal of Life and the Primal of Death.”

Great.

I crossed my arms. “But can they kill a Primal with more than just a few embers?”

“They can kill a fledgling Primal, depending on where they are struck, like one who is just coming out of their Culling. They’d be susceptible to that for many years until they fully harness their eather. But if any Primal, fledging or not, is impaled by a bone, they would remain incapacitated until it was removed.”

Well, that was the first helpful piece of information he’d shared. But in the moments of silence that followed, I realized there was something else I wanted to know.

“Can you…?” Breathe in. My chest constricted. Hold. “Can you tell me how Nyktos is?”

“You’re not going to like this answer, but I can’t.” He tracked the short path I was making in front of the divan. “I wish I could, but I haven’t seen him since I took him to the cells.”

He was right. I didn’t like the answer. “Was he conscious then?”

“No,” he said quietly.

Breathe in. I squeezed my eyes shut against the rising swell of panic and helplessness. Hold. Caving to that wouldn’t help either of us. Breathe out. “Where are these cells?”

“Was that where you were trying to escape to?”

I didn’t answer.

There was no need.

Attes let out a weary breath. “You would never make it there, even if you had managed to get free. I wouldn’t even be able to get you there and past the wards in place—at least undetected.”

“Where are these cells?” I repeated.

“They are in Dalos, but nowhere near the city,” he said. “They’re in the Carcers.”

Even though I figured Ash wasn’t being kept within reach, the disappointment still hit me hard. “The Carcers?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

“There’s a mountain range south of the City of the Gods, second only to Mount Lotho,” he said, speaking about Embris’s—the Primal of Wisdom, Loyalty, and Duty—Court. “Those are the Carcers.”

My lower lip stung as I pressed it against my upper one. “What…what are the Carcers like?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Stopping, I faced him. “I want to know.”

Something akin to respect flickered across his face. “What are mortal prisons like?”

“Terrible.”

“Imagine that, but much, much worse,” he said, and a chill hit my spine. “I believe you would only find a more forbidding locale in the Abyss.”

Gods.

The weight in my chest increased as if an unseen hand pressed upon it. He won’t be there long, I reminded myself. He won’t. I looked over at Attes, thinking about my key. “If I could get out of this cage—”

“If you were able to escape this cage, I’d take you.” Eather pulsed in his eyes. “I’d get you out of here and take you someplace safe.”

I wasn’t sure if I could trust that. “But you couldn’t take me to Nyktos, right?”

His gaze searched mine. “I wouldn’t even risk it, knowing the wards wouldn’t fail.”

“Because you’d be punished?”

“I’m not worried about me,” he replied. “I’d be more worried about what Kolis would do to you or Nyktos.”

“Right,” I murmured. There was no point in gaining Attes’s help in my escape. I was also worried about what Kolis would do in retaliation once he realized I’d left in an attempt to free Ash.

Kolis hadn’t even asked why I’d tried before. He hadn’t been surprised. I imagined it was because Sotoria had attempted to escape so many times—as he’d alluded to.

“If you’re not here to help Nyktos, then why are you here?” I asked. “To assuage your guilt?”

“My conscience is long past that.”

“Then what?” I demanded. “To tell me you’re secretly loyal to Nyktos, despite your actions?”

“I’m loyal only to the true Primal of Life.” His head cocked to the side. “That was Eythos, and now it is you. Yes, you only have two Primal embers,” he added quickly, “but that still makes you, for all intents and purposes, the true Primal of Life, as long as those embers remain inside you.”

The embers warmed in response, and I decided to ignore it. “You have a real fucked-up, unhelpful way of showing your loyalty.”

He huffed out a laugh. “You do wonders for one’s self-worth, you know that?”

“Well, what I’m about to say won’t help in that department. I think you’re a fool.” Anger thinned my voice. “I think all of you Primals are fools if you blindly serve another based on some embers or stolen titles.”

“Blindly serve?” He chuckled under his breath. “Sera—may I call you that?”

“No.”

A wider smile appeared, hinting at a dimple. “Only those destined for war serve a King or Queen simply because they carry embers or claim themselves a ruler. I would know.” He paused. “Seraphena.”

My nose scrunched. “That sounded very philosophical and nice, and I bet it made you feel clever, but in reality, you said nothing.”

“See this scar?” He pressed a forefinger to the shallow slice on his cheek. “Kolis put it there. Do you want to know why?”

Based on what little Ash had been able to tell me about Attes, and what I’d picked up on, I thought I’d be better off not knowing. That would make me a coward, though, so I nodded.

“Eythos wasn’t the only one who paid the price for Kolis losing Sotoria. The cost for Eythos was Mycella’s life.” Wisps of eather stirred violently in Attes’s irises. “But many others were caught in that rise of violence—friends, parents, lovers, favored draken.” His lips thinned, and his features tightened with the kind of pain that never really went away. The word he spoke next was low, sounding as if it came from the depths of his soul. “Children.”

Oh, gods. A tremor went through me.

“When I tried to stop him… This?” He gestured to the scar once more. “This is what a bone of an Ancient wielded by a Primal of Death can do.”

I’d suspected something like that had happened. The loss of a lover or even a Consort. But… I had a feeling what Kolis took from Attes had been a part of him. “I didn’t know.”

“How could you?” he asked. “Our losses are our stories to share. Nyktos, being born of that kind of loss, would’ve respected that.”