I sat back, glancing at Ash as my heart pounded. “Kolis was wrong.” I looked over at Keella. “And he didn’t know the part about the two daughters.”

The Primal goddess said nothing.

I rubbed my palms over my knees, suddenly feeling anxious. I should feel relief that Kolis had been wrong about the order of the prophecy, but that meant Penellaphe had been correct, and my suspicions regarding how it sounded might also be on point. “Kolis said that the part about the bearer of two crowns and the born-of-blood-and-ash part was about me.”

The Primal goddess was quiet for several more moments. “I wasn’t sure if it was referencing you,” she said, holding her hands together so tightly I saw her knuckles bleaching of color. “Not until your coronation.”

“The brightest moon,” Ash murmured, still staring at the paper he held. “It was just something that popped into my head. And it made sense.” He looked up then, his eyes meeting mine. “Your hair always reminded me of moonlight.” He let out a rough laugh, his gaze moving to Keella. “That is why you said it made you feel hopeful.”

Delfai, the God of Divination, had said the same thing. “Kolis also thought I was the silver beast, but…”

“‘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,’” Ash read aloud. His throat worked on a swallow. “I’m the silver beast.”

“And you have become one,” Keella said.

Ash blinked, shaking his head. “It’s crazy. I had…” He trailed off, clearing his throat. “Then this means the false one—Kolis—will be stripped. Will be defeated.”

“That’s not the only thing it says.” I rose, unable to stay seated. “I’ve always thought the prophecy sounded like Kolis would be defeated but then return.” I walked behind the settee. “That he was the false one and also the great conspirator. And we—” I stopped myself before I spoke about our plans.

Ash got where I was going with it, though. He nodded. “But this also sounds like the Primal of Blood and Bone will rise. If that’s not Kolis, then who is it?”

I stopped walking as I reached the opening to the outside. A knot lodged in my chest. I turned back to where Keella and Ash sat. “What is that part again? After it says, ‘as they become forgotten?’”

Ash turned his attention back to the parchment. “‘For, finally, the Primal rises, the giver of blood and the bringer of bone, the Primal of Blood and Bone.’”

“Will become one,” I murmured. My breath caught, and my head snapped up. “Could that part about the giver of life actually be about me?” My heart lurched. “I mean, I had the embers of life inside me even before I Ascended. I was the giver of life. But I’m not the bringer of death.”

“You’re not?” Keella questioned. “You are the bringer of a death.”

“Not Kolis,” I whispered. “But…”

“Me,” Ash finished.

I glanced down at the golden swirl on the top of my hand, and my chest hollowed. “Then could the prophecy mean that Nyktos and I are the giver and bringer of the Primal of Blood and Bone?”

“I believe so,” Keella said. “I believe the prophecy was always speaking about you, Nyktos, and Sotoria. Eythos thought the same.”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Ash argued. “We are not truly one. And that doesn’t explain who these two daughters are.” He frowned, dropping the parchment onto the table. “I can’t shake the feeling that the answer is right in front of us.”

“Isn’t it usually?” Keella leaned forward and picked up a slice of cantaloupe. “But with prophecies, sometimes you must read between the lines.”

The thing was, though, Ward had been correct. This was what Eythos had planned. And that had to mean he knew exactly what the prophecy meant.

“You said that some of the prophecy is about Kolis?” Ash asked.

“Yes, but he is too arrogant to realize what role he’ll play in the end.”

My stomach hollowed. “In the end?”

“That is what the prophecy warns of,” she said, her voice dropping. “It is the end of all that is known. The rise of a Primal of Blood and Bone and the Awakening of the Ancients.”

Walking toward Ash’s office the following morning, I tugged on the lacing of my vest. For some reason, the top felt tighter. Either that or my breasts were way more sensitive than usual.

I stopped messing with it as I came upon the shadowstone pillars and heard Ash speaking with Attes. He’d sent word to the Primal last night to come when he could so we could share with him what we’d learned from Keella.

Attes rose from where he sat before Ash’s desk and faced me. “I didn’t get a chance to do this, but I need to apologize for my brother’s behavior—”

“Let me stop you right there,” I interrupted. “You’re the last person who needs to apologize for him. You’re not responsible for what he has done, and his behavior does not reflect upon you.”

Attes exhaled heavily, nodding. “Thank you.” He cleared his throat and returned to his seat. “Nyktos was just telling me you guys might have found an answer to one of our most pressing problems.”

“Yeah.” I sat on the edge of the desk, not liking the idea of talking to Attes’s back if I had chosen the settee. We really needed more chairs. “Is this the first you’ve heard of celastite?”

“It is.” Attes leaned back, resting one leather-encased ankle atop the other knee. “Kind of ironic that the location of where the Ancients first arrived can nullify their essence.”

“I’m sure it has something to do with balance and makes no sense,” I remarked.

“Saion is heading out to Oak Ambler today to see if he can locate the caverns,” Ash shared. “Crolee is going with him. If he can find them, he’ll see how deep they are.”

“We don’t want Kolis any place near the surface,” I added. “The last thing we want is for someone to stumble upon him.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Attes said. “I can send some of my gods to help if we need to go deeper.”

“That would be good. Thank you,” Ash said, and I was happy to hear those two words come out of his mouth.

Saion and Rhain showed up then, and Attes rose to leave and wrangle a few of his most trusted gods.

As Ash spoke with Rhain and Saion, I followed Attes out into the hall. I’d thought of something during our quick meeting—something I believed he could answer for me.

There was also something I wanted to say to him.

Attes raised an eyebrow as I fell into step beside him. “You do realize that your husband will likely make good on his earlier threat when he realizes you are out here with me.”

I smiled. “He wouldn’t.”

Attes sent me a knowing look.

“I won’t let him,” I amended. “There’s something I wanted to ask you. In private.”

As we walked, Attes ran his fingers over his chest. A faint ripple of silvery light washed over his sleeveless gray tunic, revealing a bronze-and-shadowstone chestplate when it receded.

“Neat ability,” I remarked.

“Isn’t it?” Attes stopped behind one of the chairs from the right side of the table. “It ensures that I am always prepared for battle. Figured it would be wise to don the armor just in case you’re not faster than Nyktos.” He smiled, but it was a little empty.

I looked up at him. There were deep shadows under his eyes, and I didn’t need the vadentia to tell me the cause. “I’m sorry.”

His head jerked toward me. “For what?”

“For your brother.”

Attes quickly looked away. “Fuck, Seraphena, don’t apologize for him.”

“I know Eythos still loved his brother. That was how Kolis was able to kill him.” I stared ahead. “And I know you still love yours, even though he’s a fucking asshole.”

He remained silent.

A lump formed in the back of my throat, and tears stung my eyes because there wasn’t a single part of me that doubted Attes’s oath to Ash and me, nor the very real likelihood that he would find himself facing off against his brother.