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And that could only be one person.

My upper lip curled as anger pulsed through me. “The Blood Queen spoke of the True Crown in her summonses,” I explained to Valyn. “Who do you think she would believe to be the True King?”

“Malec,” Valyn seethed.

It made sense, especially since she now knew that Malec was alive. A sudden chill swept through me. What if Isbeth had discovered where Malec was entombed?

Gods couldn’t be killed in the same manner as the deities who were held under the Chambers of Nyktos, but they wouldn’t be able to feed. And according to Reaver, Malec would’ve needed to feed more than a normal god. He would’ve weakened to a point where he most likely no longer resembled anything close to who he was. I imagined at some point he would’ve lost consciousness.

What if Isbeth hadn’t used Kolis’s essence to create the storm? What if it had been Malec? That sounded impossible, but…

“Keep a close eye on them,” I said to Hisa and then motioned for Valyn to step back several feet from the Priests and Priestesses. Kieran followed, listening intently as I spoke in a low voice. “I don’t know how much of what he said is true or not. But what do you know about how Eloana entombed Malec?”

“She used old magic—what kind exactly, I don’t know—and bone chains,” he said, and I suppressed a shudder as memories of the twisted chains of sharp bones and ancient roots surfaced. Nyktos had created the method of incapacitating any being that carried eather in them, bestowing the bones of dead deities with such power. I didn’t need to think hard to remember what they had felt like digging into my skin. “The only way he could’ve escaped them is if someone removed them.”

It was possible that Isbeth had figured out where Malec was entombed. I needed to be sure. Malec was the ace up my sleeve. It was what kept Casteel alive. “We need to know exactly where Malec was entombed and any other safeguards Eloana may have put in place.”

Kieran frowned. “Even if the Blood Queen had located him, they would need to get past the Craven. Which would be difficult—even for whatever she is.”

“And after all that time? Hundreds of years?” Valyn added. “He wouldn’t be conscious. I doubt he would remember himself, let alone be able to seek retribution against Atlantia.”

“We would think that, but he…he is a god. The son of the King of Gods and his Consort. We have no idea what he would be capable of if he somehow woke and had time to recover.” And blood, lots of blood. I glanced back at those in white. Framont still smiled as if a hundred of his wishes had all come true at once. There was no telling what the Blood Queen had told the Priests and Priestesses to evoke this kind of faith. “Everything he’s saying could be nothing more than mind games. But…”

“But we need to be sure,” Valyn agreed. “I will get word to Evaemon as soon as we’re done dealing with this.”

Nodding, I turned back to the task at hand while many things picked at my thoughts. Malec possibly being this great conspirator that the prophecy warned about made sense—and yet, didn’t. For many reasons. Starting with: what could I possibly have to do with him waking? When I asked Framont, he only smiled blissfully up at me. And with no one present who could use compulsion, I knew we wouldn’t get any more information from him regarding this.

Besides, there was something that felt far more important that I needed to deal with. I shoved all the other stuff aside for now. “I want to know where the children are.”

“They’re serving the—”

“Don’t,” I cut him off. “Don’t lie to me. I know the truth behind the Rite. I know those taken don’t serve any gods or the True King or Crown. Some are changed into things called Revenants. Some are fed upon. None of that involves an act of service.”

“But it does,” Framont whispered, a glint of eagerness in his gaze. “They serve. Just as you do. Just as you will also—”

“I would think very carefully about what you say next,” Kieran warned.

Framont glanced at him. “Will you harm me? Threaten me with death? I fear no such thing.”

“There are things far worse than death. Like her when she’s annoyed.” He jerked his chin in my direction. “She likes to stab things then. But when she gets angry? You’ll see exactly what a god is capable of.”

The Priest’s eyes darted to me, and I smiled tightly. “I do get stabby. And I’m already annoyed by a whole list of things. Where are those given over in the Rite?”

He didn’t get a chance to answer.

“We have two more of them,” Naill announced as he entered through the side door. “And they’re not mortal. They’re Ascended.”