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"That almost sounded like a compliment," I say. "If you keep working at it, I think you'll nail it one of these days."

His lips twitch as if he's tempted to smile, but he resists the impulse. "I wasn't sure you would attend this meeting."

"Why wouldn't I?" I ask. "I'm committed to solving this murder. I want to see the Light Dragon's killer brought to justice, and I obviously don't want to see your mother destroy the Otherworld."

"Yes. You are an altruist through and through. Tell me, do you share the ruthlessness of the Maiden Fate of the past? Will you cross lines drawn in blood to do what you think is right?"

His gaze bores into me as if he's trying to pillage my soul of all its secrets. Secrets even I'm not privy to.

"Whatever choices we make, whatever actions we take to protect, to guide, to lead, to bring justice, they should not and cannot undermine our basic goodness and decency, otherwise what is it all for?"

He steps back from me, half his face falling into shadows as he does. "So you would let the innocent die if the alternative required acting in a way against your conscience?"

I glance up at the sculpture, letting my hand study the delicate artistry of it. "This is the first representation I've seen of a Fate where her face is shown," I say, changing the subject. "Why is that?"

I've noticed he's studiously avoided looking at the image of his lover, but now that he does, his eyes soften briefly. "The Fates never showed their faces. Not to the dragons, not to my mother, not to anyone. They were more myth than anything." He turns his attention back to me. "Which is why no one knew who you were," he says.

"Do you mean I would have looked like this in my past life?" I ask. "I thought with reincarnation you come back in a new body, new look and all that?"

"Perhaps under normal circumstances. But you are not normal. You are not reincarnated. You are a fate reborn. You'd do well to remember that. You may not wish to face your past deeds, but they remain part of you regardless." He looks away, his face showing a moment of brokenness that surprises me. "We all must deal with the consequences of who we were, whether we recognize that person now or not."

"And who were you, once upon a time?" I ask in a whisper.

The air around us feels heavy with the weight of the past, with ghosts that still haunt us both, even if I can no longer remember them.

"A man in love," he says without looking at me. "Who didn't want to see what my choices would do to the one I loved."

I look back at Landal, who looks suspended in time, mid-dance, her body twirling, the sheer dress she wears flowing around her, her head turned to glance over her shoulder at someone, her face lit up with joy and love.

"What was she like?" I ask.

"Do you not remember anything?" he asks with a frown.

"Not really. It hasn't been that long that I’ve really known who I was. And I've only had flashes of memory. Nothing I can hold onto. But I feel her inside me, writhing like a living thing trying to escape. Sometimes I don't know where I begin and she ends," I admit, surprising even me. I haven't articulated these thoughts to myself, let alone anyone else. I never imagined Dath'Racul would be the one I could confess to.

By the look on his face, he didn't either.

I expect a sharp retort, a biting insult, a cutting jibe. But instead, he walks over to a bench I didn't notice before. One in the shadows, but that has a perfect view of the Landal.

He sits, and gestures that I should join him.

There is barely enough room for both of us, and our thighs press together as I take my seat, sending a jolt of electricity through my skin. My fire magic flares, being this close to the Fire Dragon, and his eyes widen, suggesting he feels it too.

"Your powers have grown substantially since we met at the Collector's party," he says. "I was a bit distracted that day with my mother that I didn't feel the full weight of it then, despite your rather impressive grandstanding."

I ignore the grandstanding comment, because I can be a bigger person. "The spell with Ava'Kara seems to have unlocked what was trapped in me."

I swear his eyes seem to mist over when I mention her name.

"I wish she would have talked to us before sacrificing herself. We could have found another way."

I turn to him, my face hardening. "I think she didn't go to you because you seemed determined to use your power and position to take advantage of the fear that people lived in. You stoked that fear and used it to make yourself stronger. She wanted to help. But you wanted control."

"I know it may seem that way in your minuscule and insignificant human life of what? Twenty or thirty years?" he says, his voice hardening. "But I created a world for the people you say I just want to control. It was Landal and I who talked my brothers and sisters as well as the other Fates into forming the foundation of the Otherworld. You cannot possibly know what that entails. What responsibility that involves."

There was a lot to unpack in his little speech, but my tolerance for his dismissive attitude had worn thin.

"Listen up, Racul, can I call you Racul?" I say, not waiting for him to answer. "Things will go a lot better between us if you drop this bullshit about my age, okay? You think because you've been around a few more years you're so much wiser? So much better? And yet here we are, dealing with dead dragons and a world apocalypse because you and your sibs can't find a way to get along." His eyes narrow at that, but I don't give him time to respond. I'm too pissed. "You keep this world stuck in the dark age. You prohibit advancement. You don't take care of the most vulnerable of your population. You disparage anyone who disagrees with you. You don't listen to anyone but yourself. You've become so myopic you don't even see that you are destroying the very thing you created."