“Really?”

She nodded. “There are at least a dozen entombed in the mortal realm that I can remember.”

That such a powerful being could’ve been beneath Wayfair or some other place I’d been was unsettling.

Then the other thing she said struck me. At least a dozen? Good gods. I reached out and picked up a piece of sliced cheese.

Ash leaned forward. “So, these places where the Ancients are entombed must contain some kind of impact area.”

She nodded. “Over the years, they became underground caverns. Recognizing one as such wouldn’t be hard. You see, the celastite is oddly colored. It carries a burnt-red sheen.”

Nibbling on the cheese, I nearly choked. “A burnt-red sheen?”

“Yes. The mineral often looks damp, as if it is weeping.”

Ash eyed me. “Have you seen something like that?”

“I haven’t seen it, but I do know of at least one place,” I said. “In Oak Ambler.” I twisted toward Ash. “It’s near Massene—a port city.” I stiffened. “I have heard of there being caves along the bluffs, and that Castle Red Rock was built from the stone mined from that area.”

“Well, I guess we know where the castle got its name.” Ash met my stare, and I knew what he was thinking. That we may have found a location. “What if an Ancient has already been entombed there?”

“You would feel it if they are there,” Keella said. “It would bring upon a great sense of unease that even mortals would pick up on.”

“That’s good to know,” Ash murmured.

“If you do get curious about these locations,” Keella said, tilting her head, “I suggest you don’t spend too long exploring them. They can weaken you. Just being inside one and near the celastite can affect you.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Ash said. “Thank you.”

Keella’s smile was knowing. “Was there something else you wanted to ask?”

“Yes.” I switched gears. “We wanted to ask you about a prophecy.”

Keella’s whole demeanor swiftly changed as she stiffened. It caused my skin to prickle.

“It is a prophecy spoken by Penellaphe,” I said. “And the last oracle.”

“We’ve come to learn that my father knew about it,” Ash said, leaning back and resting an ankle on his opposite knee. “And we suspect you are also aware of it.”

Keella remained quiet.

“Penellaphe shared it with us, but when I was…” I took a quick sip of tea. “When I was in Dalos, Kolis told me there was a third part of the prophecy that Penellaphe didn’t know about until I shared it with her recently.” I then told Keella what I’d shared with Penellaphe. “She thinks Kolis has the prophecy in the wrong order.”

“Apparently, he believes it is about him becoming a Primal of Blood and Bone,” Ash said.

Keella snorted. “Of course, he would. After all, he thinks everything is about him.”

A short, dry laugh left me. “So, the prophecy isn’t about him?”

“Oh, it is. At least, some of it.” Several moments passed, and a slight tremor ran up her arm as she took a sip of her tea. Her gaze rose to meet Ash’s. “Your father shared it with me. It was one of the reasons I helped him when it came to Sotoria.” She lowered her cup to her lap. “I’m sure you can imagine the other reasons.”

I took a drink. Despite the sweetness of the tea, it still soured in my stomach. Unfortunately, I could imagine the reasons.

“What does Sotoria have to do with this prophecy?” Ash asked.

“Everything,” Keella said in a voice barely above a whisper. “She is, after all, the Harbinger and the Bringer.”

“Of Death and Destruction?” My insides flashed cold. I wasn’t expecting that. Nor did it feel right.

“She is not death and destruction,” Keella said, putting her cup on the table. “At least given what Eythos and I understood of the vision.”

Ash’s eyes narrowed. “Then her being a harbinger and a bringer means she is…what? A warning?”

Keella’s chest rose with a shallow breath. “Where she goes, death and destruction follow.”

Tension crept into my muscles. “Kolis.”

“He is the true Primal of Death, who often has a habit of creating destruction,” Keella said. “Does he not?”

“Then neither Penellaphe nor Kolis was right about the order of the prophecy. Because Sotoria’s time…” No, Sotoria’s time hadn’t truly passed. Her soul was still alive. She could be reborn. “Did you know there was more to the prophecy than what Penellaphe saw?”

She nodded. “Only because Eythos did.”

“And how did my father come to learn the information?”

“He, like his brother, heard the dreams of the Ancients,” she said, clasping her hands once more. “Eythos said it was all they dreamed until they stopped.”

“Stopped dreaming?” I asked.

She nodded.

I placed my cup on the table but didn’t sit back. “I’m not sure why that creeps me out, but it does.”

“Do you know the order?” Ash asked as he began rubbing the center of my back.

“I do not speak it. Call me superstitious, but I fear doing so breathes life into it.” She stood. “One moment.”

We watched her go to a narrow cabinet along the wall and open a drawer. As she stood still, her hand moving quickly across a piece of parchment she had pulled out, Ash ran his hand up under my hair to clasp the back of my neck. I looked over at him.

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded, thinking about what he had shared with me last night. I didn’t want him to worry, so I smiled, even though my chest ached just thinking about what Ash had told me. What Kolis had put him through was unimaginable. And, gods, a part of me hoped he refused the deal because stripping him of power wasn’t enough. It wasn’t the kind of justice I wanted to dish out.

And that was a good indication that my whole our-vengeance-can’t-be-more-important-than-the-lives-of-others speech was a whole lot of, well…bullshit.

Also, it was an on-the-nose example of why I wasn’t cut out for the true Primal of Life stuff.

Because I also wanted to kill Kyn. Really badly.

Why did that bastard have to tell Ash what Kolis had offered when I was at Dalos? Better yet, how could anyone find pleasure in doing so?

Ash dipped his head and kissed my temple.

Keella returned to us, holding the parchment. Dropping his hand, Ash took it and held it so we could both read it.

“Your penmanship is beautiful,” I murmured.

“Thank you.” Keella returned to her seat.

Taking a shallow breath, I began reading the prophecy.

From the desperation of golden crowns and born of mortal flesh, a great primal power rises as the heir to the lands and seas, to the skies and all the realms. A shadow in the ember, a light in the flame, to become a fire in the flesh. For the one born of the blood and the ash, the bearer of two crowns, and the bringer of life to mortal, god, and draken. A silver beast with blood seeping from its jaws of fire, bathed in the flames of the brightest moon to ever be birthed, will become one.

When the stars fall from the night, the great mountains crumble into the seas, and old bones raise their swords beside the gods, the false one will be stripped from glory as the great powers will stumble and fall, some all at once, and they will fall through the fires into a void of nothing. Those left standing will tremble as they kneel, will weaken as they become small, as they become forgotten. For finally, the Primal rises, the giver of blood and the bringer of bone, the Primal of Blood and Ash.

Two born of the same misdeeds, born of the same great and Primal power in the mortal realm. A first daughter, with blood full of fire, fated for the once-promised King. And the second daughter, with blood full of ash and ice, the other half of the future King. Together, they will remake the realms as they usher in the end. And so it will begin with the last Chosen blood spilled, the great conspirator birthed from the flesh and fire of the Primals will awaken as the Harbinger and the Bringer of Death and Destruction to the lands gifted by the gods. Beware, for the end will come from the west to destroy the east and lay waste to all which lies between.