The skin behind my left ear tingled. Their weaknesses were different, as were Attes’s and Kyn’s. Their simultaneous creation from the same Ancient made it so their love could be a weapon wielded against each other. That was how Kolis had been able to kill his brother. And the fact that Eythos had placed what remained of the embers of life in my bloodline. It had all become the perfect storm.

A perfect, messed-up storm.

Because Kolis hadn’t known that Eythos had passed on the rest of his embers, nor had he believed his brother still loved him.

Kolis hadn’t meant to kill Eythos.

I glanced at Ash. He had a hard time believing that his father could still love his brother after everything. I couldn’t fault him for that. There was a good chance he wouldn’t readily accept the part about his mother having a fondness for Kolis either, and I wasn’t even sure if that was something he needed to know.

I got my thoughts back on track. “Hanan did count, though. He was the Primal of the Hunt and Divine Justice,” I said, trailing off. Bele was now the ruler of Sirta, the Court that had once belonged to Hanan. But was she a Primal? After the goddess Cressa fatally wounded Bele with a shadowstone dagger and I brought her back to life, no one knew exactly what she was. She felt like a Primal to the others but not. So…

The tingling behind my ear returned as I nodded to myself. Bele had Ascended when I brought her back, but she had risen into Primalhood with Hanan’s death.

She was also a baby Primal.

I grinned.

“It has been eons since Hanan really had to fight anyone, and I was enraged,” Ash continued. “That kind of anger can strengthen a Primal, even a fledgling, but it’s temporary. If I was going up against someone like Phanos? The outcome likely would’ve been different if I had squared off with the Primal God of the Sky, Sea, Earth, and Wind.”

I just loved how there was no cost to his ego to admit such a thing. He was strong and badass enough to know when he was outpowered, and that was a rare trait.

One I wasn’t sure I possessed.

Okay. One I knew I didn’t possess, which meant it was another thing I needed to work on.

“After taking out Hanan, I weakened damn near immediately,” he said. “And that allowed Kolis to get the upper hand.”

It wasn’t just Kolis who had allowed that. My pitiful attempt to get them to stop fighting had only served to distract Ash. A wave of coldness swept down my spine as brief images of Kolis repeatedly shoving the shadowstone blade through Ash’s chest flashed in my mind.

I gave my head a quick shake to scatter the memories.

Ash gathered up several pieces of the beef he had cut and transferred them to my plate. “But the heightening of your senses will occur long before you’re considered to be at full power, and I imagine your intuition will also continue growing stronger.”

I thought that over as he finally began helping himself to what was left of the meat and vegetables. “I have these memories of when I was in stasis. Not just of you talking to me, but of other things. It kind of felt like I was going in and out of consciousness.”

He swallowed a bite of food. “Mine was similar to that. There was really no sense of time passing. I’d hear Nektas and then…nothing.”

I nodded. “I think I even heard my nursemaid Odetta’s voice at one point.” My heart skipped as more of those memories became clear. “I saw how the realms began—how they really began. The Ancients were never Primals. They were something else entirely.” I squinted, seeing in my mind what I had seen during stasis. “The essence comes from the stars—the Ancients themselves. They were stars.”

Ash lowered his fork.

“Yeah.” I twisted toward him, remembering what he’d told me. “You said that some of the Ancients were aware they were too powerful, so they created offspring from their own flesh—the Primals. Eventually, they transferred some of their essence to each one, establishing a balance of power. I saw that. Did you know they weren’t Primals?”

Ash was quiet for a moment. “It was never stated explicitly that the Ancients were Primals. It was just something that I—well, that most of us—assumed. And my father only ever spoke of them when I was younger. When he did, what he said reminded me of fables shared with a child.” His gaze searched mine. “Did you see more?”

“Yes.” I took a bite of the seasoned beef, taking a few moments to make sense of the memories coming back to me. “I saw when they fell to this realm. When dragons ruled. I saw one of the Ancients burn beneath a dragon’s flames and your father creating the first mortal. It took him so long,” I murmured as my mind jumped back to the beginning of what I’d seen. “The Ancients? They fell to other lands far to the east and west, where cities were made of steel. Do you know of these other realms?” The answer came to me with my next breath. “You don’t.”

An eyebrow rose. “You would be correct.”

“No one does but…your father. He knew the truth. So do Kolis and the Fates.” My stomach pitched as I finally recalled what else I’d seen. “The Arae…”

Holy shit.

There was a reason the Arae were said to be everywhere and in everything. Why they didn’t answer to Primals. It was because they were the Ancients—those who didn’t go to ground or pass on when the Primals rose.

Which also meant Holland was an Ancient. And I’d kicked and punched him before. Cursed at him. I was also sure I’d probably threatened his life in a fit of anger at some point.

Ash watched me intently. “What about the Arae?”

I started to tell him what I had learned, but the words wouldn’t come to my tongue. They came to my mind, though, along with a sense of bone-deep knowing.

I couldn’t tell him.

My intuition didn’t tell me why, but I knew there would be consequences if I did. Grave ones.

Hating that I had to keep this from Ash, I stabbed a piece of cauliflower and thought about the conversation I’d had with Nektas on the balcony. I was willing to bet that he knew exactly what the Fates were. “Just that they know about the other lands.” I forced my thoughts there as the back of my neck prickled near my left ear. “They aren’t separated by time, but by thick veils of eather our power cannot penetrate. They wanted things to be different there.”

“Why?”

I bit down on the buttery cauliflower and searched my mind, finding nothing more on that topic. “I don’t know, but there is more about the Ancients. I know there is. I just need a moment to think about it.”

“And more cauliflower?”

“That, too,” I murmured, forking more of the vegetable into my mouth as I squinted at the wardrobe. There was definitely something more about the Ancients. Something that had to do with balance. I stiffened as a chill whipped through my chest.

I twisted toward Ash. “There is more, though. When the Primals rose and defeated the Ancients, some entered Arcadia.” Some became the Fates, but others… “There were Ancients who went to ground. They went into stasis, Ash. They are not gone. They are only asleep, and they can never wake up. They are why there must be true embers of life and death at all times. Why life must be created, and death must always come. It’s not just because someone says there needs to be balance. The Ancients made sure of it.”

Thoughts fired off rapidly as eather hummed beneath my skin. “It’s why Kolis has been creating the beings he calls the Ascended. So far, it’s kept the balance, but if that isn’t maintained? Whatever the Arae did that linked the balance to the Ancients who went to ground will lift. They will awaken, and that cannot happen—” I gasped as the fork I held heated and trembled. My hand spasmed open—my empty hand.

The fork had evaporated.

My gaze shot to Ash. “I didn’t mean to do that.”