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“I don’t know if she was always like this or if losing Malec and their son did this to her.” I thought of what Reaver had said earlier. “I think it’s possible that Malec was attracted to that.”

“He seemed like a real gem,” she replied, and a wry grin tugged at my lips. “I wanted to ask how you’re dealing with…well, with everything related to her being your mother. But it’s always seemed like a stupid question. You know? Like I know you’re not everything is fine when it comes to her.”

“It’s not a stupid question.”

“Really?” Two arched brows rose as she leaned against the wall.

I nodded. “To be honest, I don’t know how I’m doing when it comes to her. All I know is that I…I don’t think of her as my mother. Because she wasn’t.” I glanced down at the card. “I used to struggle with who she was to me and the monster she was to Casteel and everyone else. I don’t anymore. Not after Ian.” My chest tightened, and I swallowed. “You talked to him when he came to Spessa’s End?”

“Yeah.” Vonetta pressed her lips together. Several moments passed. “I haven’t met a ton of Ascended. I can count the number I have on two hands. But he was nothing like I expected. He was polite—and not the fake kind. He was.…warm, even if his skin wasn’t. Does that make sense?”

Inhaling a shaky breath, I nodded.

“And he was kind of flirty, but not in a creepy way.” A small smile appeared briefly. “When he came to Spessa’s End, looking for you, the Guardians didn’t want to let him leave, believing he was a threat. I watched over him, and he spent the time telling me a story about Stygian Bay and the Temples of Eternity—how many of the Temples in Solis had been around since the gods walked the realm. They weren’t just places of worship but also places of profound power, able to neutralize gods. He also said they were gateways to Iliseeum, where gods ferried mortals through.” She picked up a braid, running it between her fingers. “Which I don’t think is remotely true. But what he said was interesting. He had a way of telling the story where you couldn’t help but get invested in it. I mean, he had me totally hooked on this tale about a girl picking flowers who had been startled by a god, falling to her death from some cliff. Anyway, Ian told me that he used to tell you stories, too, when you were lonely or upset…or when he was bored—which he claimed was often.”

I knew that story. Sotoria and the Cliffs of Sorrow. Ian had shared it with me in one of the letters he’d written after his Ascension. “He could spin tales at the drop of a hat. Take something common like an old, dull sword and transform it into one once wielded by the first mortal king.” My laugh trembled. “He had the wildest imagination.” I lifted my gaze to the gently rippling curtains over the windows. “I wonder if Coralena and Leo were his parents. But since she was a Revenant, I don’t even know if she could have children. Hell, I’m not sure…” I opened my mouth, closed it, and tried again. “I don’t know if my father was willing. If they put him in that cage before or after me.”

Vonetta’s disgust reached me, mirroring mine. “We will find him, too.”

“We will.” With my mind shifting from Ian to my father to…to Casteel, I summoned the eather, just a tiny spark that took little energy, then let it flick from my fingertips. There were no shadows in the silvery glow as it washed over the note. I let what remained of the card, nothing more than ash, fall from my fingers. “And we will make sure she cannot hurt anyone else.”

Chapter 8

I was dreaming.

Though not a nightmare from a long-ago night or one birthed from too-recent anguish and rage.

I knew that as soon as I drifted out of the nothingness of sleep and found myself in a different place. One that didn’t even feel like something from a dream because every one of my senses was awake and aware.

Warm, churning water lapped at my waist and bubbled along my inner thighs. Heavy and humid air settled against the bare skin of my arms and breasts like a satin veil. Water fizzed around the cluster of rocks jutting from the surface of the heated pool. Wisps of steam danced in dappled sunlight, twining around lilacs that smothered the walls and stretched across the ceiling, perfuming the air of Casteel’s cavern.

I didn’t know why I dreamed of this place instead of something horrific, or how I’d even been able to reach such a deep level of sleep on the eve of battle. Maybe it was knowing that I would soon be on my way to Carsodonia, replacing the keening sense of desperation with purpose. Perhaps that had given me the peace of mind I’d needed to truly rest and dream of something pleasant and beautiful.