I heard a name.

Eamon.

Eamon Icarion.

And I heard more than just a name. Details whispered among my thoughts. Eamon was a god who’d seen three centuries. I knew he’d been in the courtyard when I challenged Ash to train with me, even though the sandy-skinned man was too far away for my improved vision to recognize any of his features. I also knew he was born in Lotho, the Court belonging to Embris, the Primal God of Wisdom, Loyalty, and Duty, and the mountainous home of the so-called Fates. Instinct prodded to me to push, and then push harder to follow the invisible thread connecting us. He’d been in the Shadowlands since Ash began his rule, having lost his family when they expressed dismay over Eythos’s murder. He loved a godling he’d met in Lethe, and I felt—no, I knew—that Eamon was a good man, with the blood he’d spilled marking his soul.

I sucked in a sharp breath as awareness coursed through me. I turned to the bedchamber, sensing a draken, but I also felt the dual throbbing awareness of a Primal. And then another. It was strange because I knew the first was Ash because he felt different. Some innate part of me recognized that he was closer now. Was it because we were heartmates? I had to think so as I heard the interior chamber doors open.

Ash walked out, dressed as he’d been when he left this morning, having donned an ivory shirt. He’d left the collar laces undone, and had the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms.

I would fight anyone who disagreed that no one else looked as good as he did with or without a shirt.

As he stepped to the side, a purplish-black-scaled draken flew out from the open doors, gliding smoothly through the air.

Reaver landed on the railing, but unlike with Nektas, my heart dropped. We were several stories up. If he fell… “Is there not a better place for you to sit?”

Tucking his wings close to his sides, his head tilted. He let out a series of low chirps that I understood—not so much heard but sensed. It was strange.

“I know you can fly, Reaver-butt,” I responded. “But that doesn’t mean there aren’t other, more suitable resting places.” I gestured around the balcony. “Literally any place else that doesn’t make me feel like I’m about to have a heart attack.”

He nudged my arm with his head and then hopped off, landing on the balcony. He sat at my side, his head just above my knee. “There is a daybed, like…right there.”

Reaver leaned against my leg in response.

“He wants to be close to you,” Ash explained as he stopped by the doors. “Jadis, on the other hand, is currently terrorizing Bele.”

I glanced up with a grin and then looked closer at Reaver. “Have you gotten bigger?” I asked. Nubs of what I suspected would one day become horns had sprouted from the middle of the flattened bridge of his nose to run up the center of his diamond-shaped head where they split into a vee-shape.

“He has grown about two inches in the last couple of weeks.” Ash loosely crossed his arms. “He’s at the age where he’ll hit his first growth spurt. In a few months, he’ll be almost twice the size he is now.”

My eyes widened. “I’m not sure I can still call you Reaver-butt when you’re nearly as tall as me.”

Reaver ducked his head and pressed it against my leg. Figuring that meant he wanted attention, I reached down and ran my hand between the bumps. He purred, stretching his neck.

“When will he have another growth spurt?” I asked.

“Another will occur in a few years. He’ll be larger than Odin by then,” he said, speaking of the warhorse that often resided within the cuff Ash wore on his upper arm.

Which made me think about the fact that neither Bele nor I had one yet. Apparently, ours would appear out of thin air when we were ready.

Whatever.

“Did Aios come by?” he asked, coming to stand on the other side of Reaver.

“She did.” Leaning against the railing, I crossed my arms. “She said Theon needed to speak with you.”

“He did.” One of the shorter strands of hair slipped from the knot at the nape of his neck to kiss his jaw. “No ships have been spotted beyond ours. If another Court outside Vathi was planning to launch a sizable attack against the Shadowlands, bringing with them gods that are unable to shadowstep from Court to Court, we’d be able to see them from the cliffs in the Bonelands.”

Vathi, the Court jointly ruled by Attes and Kyn, was across the Black Bay. If Kyn wanted to move his armies toward the Shadowlands as he had before, he wouldn’t have to go into the open seas. He’d simply need to cross the bay.

“The Shadowlands is uniquely positioned, even more so than Vathi. To cross the Lassa Sea, traveling from the Shadowlands to the Bonelands is only a day trip by ship, and the Primal mist that prevents mortals from traveling too far east also cloaks our movements. The same cannot be said for Vathi,” Ash said.

The mist would kill any mortal, so I guessed it was a good thing no mortals called the Bonelands home. “But doesn’t Lotho share the same land mass as both the Shadowlands and Vathi? They could travel by foot.”

“The canyon between Vathi and Lotho makes it difficult but not impossible,” Ash said. “Several Courts share the same land. Kithreia—Maia’s Court—is joined, and a narrow land bridge connects it to the Court of Sirta, but moving forces this way would be unlikely at the moment.”

“Why?” I asked, genuinely curious. Considering that I was the Queen, I needed to get familiar with Iliseeum’s layout.

“Besides the fact that it would take longer to travel by land than it does by ship, none of the Courts will want another’s army moving through their lands. Doing so would be considered a political move,” Ash explained. “Permission must be granted. So, Embris would have to approve Maia’s forces traveling through Lotho, just as Maia would have to give permission for Bele to move Sirta’s armies through Maia’s Court.”

“Is Sirta still a mess?” I asked.

“Yes, but that’s no different than when Hanan ruled. Very few who call Sirta home actually served him. His Court had mostly become a haven for thieves and raiders.”

I laughed. “I’m sorry. None of that is funny. It’s just ironic that the Court of the Hunt and Divine Justice has become an asylum for injustice.”

“Not that I want to make it seem like Hanan wasn’t responsible for his actions, but it’s partly due to Kolis. The moment he stole those embers from my father, a different kind of rot invaded the Courts,” he reminded me. “Twisting what us Primals were meant to stand for.”

Us.

Hearing that gave me a start. I didn’t think it would ever not do that. I reached down to pet Reaver. “Speaking of other Primals, I made an oath to Aios.”

“You did?”

“You might be mad.”

Interest sparked in his eyes as he rose. Not judgment or anger. “I doubt that.”

“Well…” My lips pursed. “It was kind of reckless.”

“Did you forget?” Sunlight slid over his cheekbone. “I enjoy the reckless side of your nature.”

My lips twitched. “I haven’t forgotten, but I also know that doesn’t hold true all the time.” I clasped the railing. “I promised her that Kyn would be punished for what he did to her and Ector. To the Shadowlands.”

He tilted his head. “Why would I be mad about that?”

I lifted a shoulder. “Because the first thing I did as Queen was to make an oath to potentially kill another Primal. One who is the twin of another, who is our ally. And I did it without conferring with you first.”

Ash stared at me as if I’d sprouted an extra mouth. Then he chuckled.

“What?” I turned sideways to him. “What’s so funny?”

“Liessa,” he all but purred. “While I would appreciate you discussing such things as this with me first, I also expect that your temperament will prevent that on occasion.”

I eyed him as if he were growing another set of lips. “Expecting that doesn’t make it okay.”