As Attes rose, I cleared my mind and tried to focus. “What will be done about Sotoria’s soul?”

“I’ve been searching for a way to safeguard it, and I will continue to do so.” There was no trace of humor or charm to be found, and when he spoke again, he did so somberly. “I know what it will take for you to gain Kolis’s trust and garner Nyktos’s freedom. It’s the same thing you’ll have to do to stay alive.”

Growing uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, I shifted from one foot to the other.

“And I…” A muscle ticked in his temple. “I’m sorry.”

I looked away, my aching jaw tight. Gods, he sounded as if he meant it, and I didn’t know what to do with that when I preferred he not know what it would take.

“I need to leave,” he said, clearing his throat, but a thickness lingered. “Staying so long without being discovered is luck I should not continue to push.”

Nodding, I faced him as something I’d wondered about earlier resurfaced. “Can I ask you something first?”

“Of course.”

“Does Sotoria’s name mean anything in the language of the Ancients and Primals? I know that so’ means my,” I explained when the skin at the corners of his eyes creased. “And I just thought that perhaps her name meant something. Like it’s two words joined together.”

“Like Kolis’?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“It does. Or did.” He exhaled heavily, dragging his thumb over the base of his throat. “It’s from the oldest of our language. Toria had a few meanings. One meant garden. Another could be loosely translated into pretty flower.” He smiled then, but no dimple appeared, and I couldn’t help but think of what Sotoria had been doing when she died. She’d been picking flowers. “But a more exact translation is poppy.”

 “Like the mortal flower?” I thought of the ones that had started to grow again in the Shadowlands. “Or the silver ones?”

“I believe it once referenced the mortal flower, but it could’ve been describing either.”

My brows lifted. “So, Sotoria’s name could be translated into my pretty…” A strange shiver curled its way down my spine. “My pretty poppy?”

Attes nodded. “Or my pretty garden.”

“Oh,” I whispered.

He studied me. “Does something about that translation bother you?”

Yes, but…

“No.” I shook my head, unsure where the feeling of unease had come from or why. “I do have another request for you.”

“Anything.”

I smiled wryly at that. “Find me a weapon made of the bones of the Ancients.”

His head tipped to the side. “Seraphena…”

“I am not going to take any unnecessary risks. I swear.”

The purse of his lips said he doubted my oath.

“But if there comes a time when the only thing left is to take a risk? I want to have something that can kill him, or incapacitate him at the very least,” I said, and could tell he knew what I meant. “It doesn’t hurt to try, does it?”

“No, I suppose not,” he said. “But you have to be careful with such a weapon. And I say that not because I think you cannot handle one,” he added when I opened my mouth. “You cannot touch the bone itself without causing pain. A hilt would need to be crafted, which isn’t a problem. What is an issue is where you would hide it on your person.”

Considering the transparency of my clothing, he had a point. “I can hide one here.”

He exhaled through his nose. “Do you think they won’t check for such a weapon, especially after your escape attempt? Especially one of a size that would be useful for what you intend?”

My jaw clenched. I hated all the logical points he made. “Okay.”

 Attes turned to the bars, then stopped. “Do you feel her now?” His throat worked as his gaze found mine. “Sotoria’s soul, I mean.”

His question was strange to me, but I lifted a hand to my chest. I didn’t hear her as I had previously, but there was a flicker of something that wasn’t an ember. An awareness of someone there, watching and listening. “Yes.”

Emotion flickered across his face, too fast for me to determine what it was or even be sure I’d seen anything.

“Then I hope she hears this,” Attes said, swallowing once more. “I will save you this time.”

I was restless after Attes turned himself back into a hawk and flew off, which was as bizarre as it sounds. Left to nothing but my thoughts, I did what I normally did.

I trained.

Finding nothing to tie my hair back with, I braided the length, then gently knotted the ends, knowing I’d likely regret it later. Calling on as much memory as I could recall, I imagined myself sparring with an invisible partner and went through the motions Holland had taught me.

As I moved from jabbing with an imaginary dagger to shadowboxing, my mind wandered instead of emptying.

Attes.

Picturing his face, I swung my closed fist into the air above me and only felt a little bad.

Obviously, I had a hard time trusting him, but that oath? Either I or the embers had felt it. He couldn’t break it. And how he spoke about his scar? The pain evident in his voice and on his face was too real, as was the thread of agony in his words when he vowed to save Sotoria this time.

I dipped, moving as fast as I could in the gown. Something Attes had said finally occurred to me after he left. It was so damn obvious. But in my defense? A lot had been—and still was—cycling through my mind.

Attes had mentioned how much I resembled Sotoria but knew I didn’t look exactly like her. Based on that, and what he’d said before he left, Attes had known her.

And, man, I had so many questions about that. But I realized something else once he was gone.

Sweat dotted my brow as I rose from a crouch and spun, swinging out with my arm. I repeated the move over and over as I thought about how Attes hadn’t mentioned Nyktos taking the embers. He probably figured it was something assumed and unnecessary to say.

You’re not the weapon…

My steps slowed and then came to a stop, my chest rising and falling from exertion. I rose from another crouch, my arms dropping to my sides. Holland had said that I was Sotoria. So had the goddess Penellaphe—or at least that was how I’d interpreted what they said.

But what if Holland hadn’t known? I wiped the back of my hand across my forehead. It wasn’t like every Fate was all-knowing. Another could’ve done something without Holland’s knowledge. Or he had been unable to tell me without interfering.

But why did he train me? What was the point?

Unless Attes’s instincts were right, and Holland had actually trained me to keep Sotoria’s soul and the embers safe. Was it about that instead of killing Kolis?

And if it was?

Letting my head fall back, I stared at the bars above. Gods, I sort of felt like a huge part of my identity had just been shattered, and it was so damn frustrating.

 I’d hated that part of myself, loathed what it had cost me. Yet I still didn’t feel relief. The resolve to stop Kolis hadn’t faded. No part of me attempted to latch on to it as an excuse not to try. And maybe…

Maybe that was because I didn’t know who I was without my duty. Maybe it was because it was the one thing I could do before I died that would make a difference. And I just couldn’t let that go.

The thing was, whatever the reason, I couldn’t dwell on it. If I did, I would lose it.

Turning, I went into the bathing area and picked up a small towel. Using the pitcher of fresh water that had been left behind, I wiped the sweat from my forehead.

My pretty poppy.

A tremor skated over my body, sending shivers of unease cascading down my spine. What bothered me about that? It was the absolute least concerning thing Attes had shared.

Tossing the towel onto the vanity, I returned to the divan and removed the blanket this time, letting it fall to the floor. I plopped down and wiggled into the corner. Drawing my legs up, I tucked them under my gown.