“Those two words aren’t even necessary.” My throat thickened as I thought about what I’d done. “I should be apologizing—”

“What?” Aios drew back, sliding her hands to mine. “Why would you think that?”

“When I brought you back, I did it without considering whether you wanted that. I don’t regret doing it,” I quickly added. “But I should’ve stopped and thought about it.”

“You did the right thing. Just like you did for Bele.”

“That was different. She died right before our eyes.” Not that Aios needed the reminder. “But you were…” I trailed off. I had no idea how much time had passed for Aios by the time I brought her back, and the idea that I could’ve ripped her away from peace had haunted the back of my mind ever since. “I didn’t know if your soul had passed on or not.”

“If it did, I don’t remember it,” she said. “And that doesn’t matter. I wasn’t ready to die. And I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you, so yes, you did the right thing. And a thank you is necessary.” She squeezed my hands before letting go. “Okay?”

I couldn’t shake the feeling that her soul had crossed over to Arcadia, a realm of peace very much like the Vale, or had been in the process of doing so. But hearing her say what she had lessened that concern for me. Letting out a ragged breath, I nodded.

“Good.” Her glistening lashes fluttered as she cleared her throat. “I ran into Nyktos downstairs. He got sidetracked by Theon. He just returned from the Bonelands.”

The Bonelands was a stretch of uninhabited land between the mountainous Carcers and the Skotos Mountains where the mortals had fought alongside the gods and Primals against the Ancients. The draken believed it was sacred given the bones of the fallen that remained unseen but were still there. Theon had been stationed there with several ships and soldiers.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

“Yes. Theon is only updating Nyktos. He’d been waiting, wanting to give you two some space and time,” she explained, clasping her hands at the waist of her deep forest-green gown. “I told Nyktos I would let you know, and he asked me to tell you he would be in his office for a bit.”

He was likely writing the names of the recently deceased—in blood—in the Book of the Dead.

And yeah, that still creeped me out.

“Are you up for company until he returns?” Aios asked.

“Of course. I’m glad you came by,” I said, and Aios’s smile widened. “I’ve been so worried about everyone. How you were after what happened, and with…” My breath caught, causing the essence to hum through me. “And with Orphine and Ector.”

“You’d think one would become used to such deaths after a while, especially being where we are.” Aios sat on the edge of the couch. “But it doesn’t get easier. Not even when we know, without a doubt, that it’s not like they cease to exist. We know they are at peace.”

“You’re right. It doesn’t make it easier.” Walking to the couch, I sat beside her. “I wish I could’ve gotten to Ector sooner and been there for Orphine, but…”

Aios’s heart-shaped face tilted to the side as she eyed me. “But what?”

But the list of those I’d brought back to life was adding up, starting with Marisol and ending with Aios. There was even a draken on that list.

Should I have brought any of them back?

Would I have done so with Ector and Orphine if given the chance? My immediate response was yes, but I knew that it wasn’t as simple as what I wanted. And it wasn’t my new, uncanny sense of knowing that told me that.

“Sera?” Concern filled Aios’s voice.

“Sorry. I got a little lost in my thoughts.” I clasped my knees. “I was thinking about those I’ve restored life to and balance. How when there is life, there must be death. Like an exchange.”

Aios’s brows rose and then furrowed. “Are you saying that when you bring someone back to life…”

“Another dies,” I finished for her, thinking about my stepfather. When I’d brought Marisol back, the former King of Lasania had paid for it with his life.

Her face drained of blood. “Did someone else take my place?”

My eyes widened. “No. Gods, I’m sorry. I should’ve clarified. It only happens with mortals, not gods or draken.”

“Oh, thank the Fates.” Aios blinked rapidly as she looked away, her throat working on a swallow. “I wouldn’t know what to think if that were the case.” Her gaze found mine. “When you brought Gemma back, do you know who…?”

“Who paid for her life with theirs?” I continued. “I don’t. And I don’t want Gemma learning about this.”

Aios nodded slowly. “Agreed. She would likely blame herself.”

Marisol would, too, if she ever learned what’d happened. And, gods, that would be super complicated, considering it had been her wife’s father who had ended up in death’s grip.

“There was another before Gemma,” I said, telling Aios about Marisol. “I didn’t know what would happen then. Honestly, I didn’t even think I would be able to bring her back to life. She was my first mortal.”

“Would knowing that another life had to be forfeited have changed what you did?”

A wry grin tugged at my lips. “You asked something similar of me before. And by the way, you were right that day when you said that creating life out of death was in my nature.”

Her silver eyes lightened. “I was, but I don’t think either of us knew just how right.”

“No doubt.” I laughed, sliding my palms over my thighs. The last time she’d asked this, it had been about Bele and whether I would’ve still brought her back if I had known that her Ascension would draw the attention of the other Primals. This time, I put it into words. “I would’ve still done it to save my stepsister the heartbreak of losing someone she loved.” The irony that the act had taken another she loved was cruel. “And if I had gotten to Ector in time or had a chance to save Orphine, I would’ve. But—” I cut myself off, shaking my head. “Never mind. You don’t need to hear any of this.”

“No. It’s okay.” The hem of her gown swayed across the stone floor as she angled her body toward mine. “Please, continue. I find this topic…interesting.” Her nose wrinkled. “I feel like that may have been inappropriate to admit.”

I raised a brow. “I’m the last person you need to worry about being inappropriate with.”

“Actually, you’re technically the only person I should worry about my behavior around,” she corrected. “You are the Queen.”

My heart skipped several beats. Somehow, that fact kept slipping my mind.

“Many of us either weren’t born when there was a true Primal of Life or weren’t close enough to Eythos to ever hear him speak of what it was like.”

“I’m not sure I even know what it’s like,” I admitted. “But I was just…I was just thinking about knowing when to use the ability to restore life and when not to. Like I can’t bring everyone back, but if it really is in my nature, how do I stop it? How do I decide—and I hate using this word—but how do I decide who deserves it and who doesn’t?”

You don’t.

I stiffened. The voice that whispered in my thoughts was mine, and the knowledge came from my Ascension. “It’s not the Primal of Life’s place to intervene in the natural order of things,” I whispered, but…that was bullshit. “What was natural about how Ector and Orphine died?” I turned to Aios. “Or you. There was nothing natural about what Kyn did when he attacked the Shadowlands. That can’t be a part of the natural order of things.”

“There was nothing natural about any of that. What Kyn did was unnecessarily cruel,” she said, and knowing what I did about the Primal, I didn’t doubt that for a moment. “I should’ve stayed inside.” Tears built in her eyes, clouding the pulse of eather. “I don’t know what I was thinking when I went out there. I’m not trained to fight like you and Bele, but I thought I could at least help the wounded get inside.”

“You’re not trained, but you had to do something,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “Wanting to help is understandable.”