Until now.

Now, they were lost.

And I knew why that bothered me. I’d spent the better part of my life fearing where I would end up after my death. Even after Ash, I had been afraid. I didn’t know if the Fates would intervene, preventing Ash from judging me kindly. The worst part was that I knew where I deserved to go. It wasn’t the Vale, yet I was the Agna Adice.

The Great Condemner.

And how messed up was that?

A lot. The answer was a lot.

But why hadn’t my will affected the Shades and the Dying Woods? Opening my eyes, I saw that the Shades were closer, gathering near the edge of the trees. The sensation of fingertips along the nape of my neck hit me as the answer to my question formed.

The Dying Woods belonged to Death, as did the Shades. Just like they were mostly prevented from leaving the Dying Woods, I was blocked from bringing life to that stretch of land. But…

I frowned. But neither life nor death was absolute. My thoughts raced. There was something about that. The wards that trapped the lost souls in the woods sometimes weakened, and I had almost brought one back. I had been in the Dying Woods then, touching the Shade. That was the difference.

Death couldn’t break the bond of Life’s touch. That kind of power? It was the same as I’d displayed last night.

I turned away from the Shades and knew that what I had done last night had awakened Kolis.

After spending an ungodly amount of time trying to decide whether to wear my hair loose or in a braid, I finally decided to leave the curls free. Ash liked it that way, and I loved that he did.

I stepped back so I could see myself in the mirror attached to the wardrobe door. The tunic Aios had picked out was fitted at the breasts, almost too tightly, like the measurements might have been off just a little bit, but the cut was flattering, and the stitching Erlina had done was beyond beautiful. I couldn’t remember if I had thanked her for her hard work, and even if I had, I wanted to do so again.

I’d followed Aios’s suggestion and paired the tunic with black leggings, and I didn’t think Rhain would have any reason to complain.

I took a deep breath, nodded at myself, and then walked through the bathing chamber. Tiny knots of anxiety bounced around in my stomach as I headed down the narrow hall to the antechamber. There, I found Reaver in his mortal form, seated on the couch with a pad of parchment.

He looked up as I entered. “You look nice,” he said, and a hint of pink appeared on the cheeks I could actually see through his hair.

“Thank you.” I approached. “Hopefully, Rhain agrees.”

A grin appeared, but it quickly disappeared. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m just anxious. That’s all.” I smiled, hoping it eased his concerns as I glanced at the paper in his lap. “Are you drawing something?”

Pale hair flopped over his forehead as he looked down. One shoulder lifted. “I’m supposed to be working on my letters.”

My lips twitched. “And you’re not?”

Wordlessly, he lifted the parchment and showed me. There were letters written in surprisingly fine, sophisticated lines. About half as many as there should be. The rest of the page was filled with swirling ink strokes I quickly recognized. “You’re drawing the design on the throne doors.”

“Trying to,” he mumbled, kicking feet that didn’t reach the floor.

I peered down at the paper. He’d captured the leaves on the ivy-like vines that adorned the throne room doors and decorated my tunic. “I think you’re doing a good job.”

“Thanks.” Another splash of pink traveled across his cheeks. “I don’t think Liora will be happy, though.”

“Liora?” I sat beside him.

“She’s like me,” he said, shading a tiny leaf. “But older. She doesn’t leave Mount Rhee much, but she did come by while you were asleep. All the draken did.” He frowned, appearing to search for a word. “We all felt you rise as the true Primal of Life,” he said, speaking as if that were something entirely normal.

And I guessed it was since I had basically felt Kolis do the same.

I clasped my knees. “Is Liora who watches you and Jadis sometimes?”

He nodded.

“Maybe you should finish the rest of your letters for her,” I suggested. “You’re almost halfway done.”

“I will.” Dragging his lip between his teeth, he glanced over at me. “Do you want to draw? It helps me when I’m anxious.”

“Drawing makes me anxious,” I joked. “But thank you.” My gaze flickered over him. “Why are you anxious?”

“I’m not.”

I raised my brows. “You just admitted to drawing when you’re anxious,” I pointed out. “So, why are you anxious?”

His little nose pinched as he looked away. “I’m anxious because you are.”

I drew back. “What?”

“You’re meyaah Liessa. I…I can sense it,” he said.

“Oh, gods. I didn’t know that.” Uncomfortable, I shifted in my seat. Actually, I did know that. It was just lost in all the other stuff I suddenly knew. “The notam.”

Reaver nodded.

It was the bond all draken had with the true Primal of Life. “So, all the draken can feel when I’m anxious?”

Swinging his feet, he nodded. “The older ones know how to block it out. I just haven’t learned how to do that yet.”

“What about Jadis?”

“I don’t think she can feel anything yet,” he answered. “She’s too young.”

That was kind of a relief, but not really. I didn’t want my almost constant state of anxiety affecting Reaver. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He tilted his pointy chin up. “It’s not real bad.”

I wasn’t sure I believed that, which meant I needed to get my anxiety under control.

“I think you’ll do fine today, by the way. The people already like you, and after what they saw this morning? They have to love you. So, you have no reason to be anxious,” he said earnestly and with a seriousness far beyond his age.

“Thank you.” I ran my hands over my knees. My anxiety at the moment had little to do with the speech, but I was sure that would rear its head sooner or later.

Once Reaver finished his letters, we moved out to the daybed on the balcony. He was telling me about Mount Rhee and some of the draken I hadn’t yet fully interacted with when I felt Ash near the bedchamber.

He joined Reaver and me, striding out onto the balcony, the hair at his temples damp.

“You two kind of match,” Reaver said, kicking his feet off the base of the daybed.

We did.

Ash wore a sleeveless, black tunic trimmed in the same silver brocade. It stretched across his broad shoulders and was perfectly tailored to his tapered waist. He looked magnificent.

“Great minds think alike,” he murmured, bending to kiss me.

Reaver groaned. “You two do that a lot.”

Ash chuckled as he straightened. “One day, you will understand why.”

“Nuh-uh,” Reaver denied, his lip curling in disgust.

“I’ll be sure to remind you of that when the day comes.” Ash reached over, the silver band on his upper arm glinting in the sunlight as he ruffled Reaver’s mop of blond hair. “Mestra will be here shortly to take you back to Mount Rhee.”

Reaver had briefly mentioned the other draken I had yet to meet. Besides Jadis and Reaver, she was the youngest of the draken, a little over a century old.

“I’d rather go with you all,” Reaver said.

“I know,” I told him. Reaver had mentioned wanting to go with us no less than two dozen times since we decided to talk to the people. “When you’re older, I’m sure it will be fine for you to be with us.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Why am I not old enough now? You two are just giving a speech.”

“Yes, we’re only giving a speech, and nothing should happen,” Ash said, his tone gentle. “But you are too important to take that risk. Understand?”

Reaver nodded, clearly unhappy, and I felt for the little guy. Considering what he’d been through, it was no wonder he wanted to stick close to our sides.