Page 89 of The Primal of Blood and Bone (Blood and Ash #6)

It would’ve been beautiful if not for how wrong it was, considering it was only late afternoon and several hours from what should have been dusk.

It had to be another sign of the imbalance in the realms—one that would continue to worsen as long as both Casteel and Kolis were in the mortal realm.

Gods. That wasn’t an outcome we had even remotely considered when we brought Malec to the Bone Temple.

I should be more disturbed than I was, but it paled in comparison to what I’d experienced in the Continents and what I’d seen carved into Reaver’s features when he realized I couldn’t wake Jadis.

Anguish.

Gods, I could still hear it in his voice.

My hands trembled against the railing. Why hadn’t my touch worked?

Like before, there was no answer.

I swallowed against the knot that had lodged itself in my throat since Ironspire.

The desperation I’d felt when I willed Jadis to wake reminded me of the little girl in Saion’s Cove who had passed.

Except I’d been able to bring her back. Could it be that Jadis was…

no longer alive? That would explain why my touch had no impact.

No , I told myself. Nektas had sensed that his daughter was still alive. So, it wasn’t that. I’d just failed to reach her.

Hopefully, Seraphena would know what to do. Nektas would have to ask her instead of waiting for me, right?

There was only a hint of the sea in the air as I drew in a deep breath and looked over my shoulder.

Right now, I figured Kieran was setting a time to meet with the generals while Casteel went to feed—something he could’ve done inside our chambers, but I could tell he believed I wasn’t ready to see anyone.

That assumption wasn’t entirely unfounded. But it was more that I wasn’t ready to see one person in particular.

Tawny.

My stomach twisted, and I still had no idea why. It was so unlike me. Tawny meant the world to me, as did our friendship. What I was feeling just didn’t make sense.

Pulling my lip between my teeth, I lifted my gaze.

From this part of Wayfair, I could see an even larger portion of the Garden District and Croft’s Cross.

I looked to where the range of the Elysium Peaks rose against the vivid-blue, star-swept sky, casting a shadow over part of the city and the thick forest below.

What had Ian called it? The Dark Elms? I didn’t think that was their official name. I recalled them being called the Royal Elms, but Ian’s name for them made a lot more sense. As a child, I’d been afraid of the forest because I’d never seen the sun penetrate the canopy.

And likely because Ian had once told me that the souls of those who passed on but feared judgment haunted the forest.

A faint smile tugged at my lips as the memory of Ian holding my hand as we walked rose, but it faded as my stomach dipped. For some reason, I suddenly thought—no, I believed —that what Ian had said about the forest was true.

Shaking my head at another thought that made no sense, I looked up. White-tipped water rushed down the jagged face of the bluff in the Cliffs of Sorrow.

Shivers tiptoed down my spine as I stepped back from the railing, unsure of what unnerved me so much about them.

They had never bothered me when I was a child.

I’d obviously been more afraid of the woods below them.

Maybe it was because I now knew that the story Ian had once written to me about hadn’t just been another of his fantastical tales.

Sotoria was real. And she was…

My skin prickled with unease as the thought trailed off. She was what? Tipping my head back, I closed my eyes and tried to find the lost thought. It felt important. Monumental. But trying to remember it was like grasping at shadows.

Frustration made my skin itchy, so I gave up. I was getting nowhere while standing there with my eyes closed. Turning, I walked back into our more permanent and much larger quarters.

The King’s Solar took up nearly the entire top floor of the eastern wing, with only four chambers outside the quarters meant for stewards or Ladies in Wait.

I guessed they were empty now. Could Tawny be moved there?

Perhaps Delano and Perry could take one of the chambers.

Or Vonetta once she arrived. And if Vonetta took one, did that mean Emil would be staying with her?

A wry grin tugged at my lips. I wasn’t sure how Kieran would handle that.

Casteel seemed to think Emil would get himself killed, but I wasn’t so sure.

My stare trailed over the spacious room that had clearly been designated for meetings.

In the center of the first chamber—the Solar the quarters had been named after—was a rectangular table made of light, cream-colored wood, large enough to seat at least ten.

It sat on a slightly raised platform framed by marble pillars flecked with gold, and each end faced doors that opened to balconies.

I’d never explored this area of Wayfair when I lived here. All I knew of this space was that neither Isbeth nor Jalara had occupied these rooms. Instead, the King’s Solar had been used for visiting high-ranking members of society—mortal, high-ranking members.

My gaze lifted to the reason for that. The dome above was glass, as were the ceilings of the other rooms.

I drifted into the next chamber, one I quickly saw was filled with ivory-colored couches and armchairs adorned with golden accents. They’d been placed around low-to-the-floor tables trimmed in gold. The ceiling was slightly lower here, divided into smaller glass panes.

Running my fingers over the velvety backs of the chairs, I continued forward, feeling like I was walking through someone else’s living quarters, where gold was clearly a theme in the décor.

And the dining chamber was no exception. Gold accented the round dining table and chairs made of the same light-colored wood as the massive table in the Solar. It also framed the windowed dome above. At least the King’s Solar wasn’t drenched in crimson like many of the chambers in Wayfair were.

Between the lack of crimson and all the glass, I had to think this section had been built when Atlantia ruled the realm. Possibly even before that. Knowing that Atlantians had once occupied this wing made me feel a little more comfortable.

I pushed open a set of double doors trimmed in gold. “Goodness.”

My hands fell to my sides as my wide-eyed gaze locked on the canopy bed on another raised platform. It was absurdly large, wide enough to fit at least four or five people, and so long I had to wonder exactly how tall the person—or small army—this bed had been constructed for was.

Opaque curtains had been tied back against the posts, revealing a mound of pillows at the head of the bed and neatly tucked blankets. It looked soft , and I had to resist the urge to dive headfirst into the heap of pillows.

I looked up. Unsurprisingly, the ceiling was made of glass, which explained the thick curtains surrounding the bed.

Once drawn, they would block out the light streaming in from above and the floor-to-ceiling window that made up the wall.

The shutters on an oval-shaped window were cracked open on the other side of the bed, letting in a bit of cool, fresh air.

There was a thickly cushioned, light-gray sofa that honestly could’ve doubled as a bed.

A dark-gray quilt was draped over one of the two armchairs across from it, and a low table sat between them.

Two doors opposite the wall of windows drew my attention.

There had better be a massive tub behind one of those doors, or I would riot.

Opening one, I was surprised to find a large wardrobe—no, not a wardrobe.

What had Casteel called this? Our rooms in the palace at Evaemon had one of these.

A…walk-in wardrobe? This one wasn’t nearly as big as the other, but it was still unnecessarily large, especially considering we had so few clothing items. The proof was in the handful of Casteel’s things hanging from the rods.

A still-packed saddlebag hung beside a cloak that I thought Kieran had worn while we were on the road to Carsodonia. Then again, it was just a plain cloak, so it could be anyone’s.

My gaze lifted to a wooden box engraved with the Atlantian Crest. I stretched up, running my fingers along the smooth wood holding the gilded bone crowns we’d once stored in a cigar box.

I walked on, spotting a few of the tunics and breeches Tawny must’ve brought with her. Did she know I was awake? Guilt crept through me. I knew she had to be worried, and instead of being, well, weird, I should have been assuaging her concerns.

Telling myself that I would see Tawny soon, I looked over some of the other items hanging there. Tunics. Gowns. Leggings. I tugged a gown out, seeing that it would likely fit, which meant it probably hadn’t been something just lying around. The Ascended were impossibly thin.

Letting go of the gown, I spotted the chest. Kneeling before it, I opened the lid to find a small arsenal of bows, arrows, short swords, and steel and bloodstone daggers.

There were even a few shadowstone blades, though I had no idea where they’d come from.

I exhaled long and slow as I spied a bundle of black cloth.

I picked it up, recognizing the weight immediately.

Unfurling the soft material, I revealed the bloodstone dagger and a thigh harness.

A mix of bittersweet emotions swelled within me as I stared at the blade Vikter had given me.

It had saved my life more times than I cared to count, and I felt like it was an extension of me.

But as I ran my finger down the crimson blade, I knew I could no longer look at it without thinking about the wolven the bone handle had been crafted from.

Placing the thigh harness on the floor, I wrapped the cloth around the dagger again and laid it next to the harness. I grabbed a shadowstone dagger, revealing a large burlap pouch beneath it. Curious, I loosened the tie and reached inside.