“It does,” Nyktos confirmed.
The tendrils swirled at the base of the throne as Kolis’s head cocked once more. “And that is all you have to say?”
“It is all that I can say, Uncle,” he said, and I tensed upon hearing him refer to Kolis as such. Still, he kept moving his thumb in those slow, comforting swipes. “I felt it myself. Felt it before in the mortal realm, though less powerful. I, too, have searched for it. I have found none in the Shadowlands who could’ve been responsible for such a burst of power.”
Hanan practically vibrated with his need to speak, but he waited until Kolis nodded. “And how would that be possible?”
“Is that a serious question?” Nyktos countered as Attes dragged his fangs over his lower lip, barely concealing his smirk. “Whoever was responsible is clearly no longer in the Shadowlands. I assumed that it was our King.”
I almost laughed, but I was far too impressed by how calm Nyktos was, how convincing. And was also too dumbfounded by all of this. Kolis had sent his dakkais as a warning that he was aware of the embers of life. He could’ve possibly sent his draken, despite Nektas not recognizing the one that attacked. He had to know that Nyktos didn’t, not for one second, believe it was him. Something wasn’t right here.
“You’re suggesting that Kolis Ascended a god in the Shadowlands for no reason and then left?” Hanan demanded.
“Who else could it have been? Only the Primal of Life can Ascend a god,” Nyktos said.
My breath snagged in my throat as the air in the atrium became hot, thick, and humid.
The gold in Kolis’s eyes brightened. “What are you suggesting, Nyktos?”
“I believe that he’s suggesting that only one person could’ve been capable of such a miraculous event,” Attes said. “You.”
Then, and only then, did Kolis look away from us. The essence along the floor throbbed as he looked down upon the Primal of War and Accord. “Yes,” he murmured, clearly not as annoyed with Attes speaking out of turn as he had been with Hanan. “Only I have the power to Ascend a god. To return life to what has passed on.” Slowly, Kolis turned back to us as the tendrils of essence rose, coiling. I saw it again, a shadow in that essence as Kolis raised his hand once more.
The doors behind him opened, and—
Dyses walked onto the dais, the front of his tunic smeared with dry, rusty-colored blood.
My lips parted on a sharp inhale as Nyktos went stiff behind me. Attes sat up straighter, pitching forward as the god stopped beside Kolis and bowed—the god I’d seen Nyktos punch his hand through. A god who shouldn’t be standing because Nyktos had destroyed his heart.
It was impossible, but…but hadn’t I thought I’d seen his fingers twitch? I hadn’t felt his death as I did when other gods perished. Both Attes and Nyktos had said something had felt off about Dyses.
“He was dead the last time I saw him,” Nyktos remarked coolly.
Kyn gave a short, muffled laugh.
“I was, Your Highness.” Dyses bowed once more. “But the Primal of Life saw fit to restore me.”
But that…that didn’t make sense. When I restored Bele, I Ascended her. This god’s eyes were still that incredible, pale shade of blue. Had I simply done it wrong because I hadn’t known what I was doing? Or was this different?
My heart started pounding. Was this what Gemma had spoken of? The Chosen who disappeared, only to return as something cold, lifeless, and hungry? Dyses was nothing like Andreia had been. He wasn’t a Craven. So he had to be one of what Kolis had called his Revenants.
But Dyses had been out in the sun, and Gemma had said that those things only moved about at night. And that Kolis needed his graeca to perfect them.
Kolis smiled as he looked up at Dyses, but the expression faded as his gaze settled on Hanan. “Just because I chose not to restore life or to Ascend a god does not mean I will not, when one is deserving. It is not my fault that most lack such blessings,” he said, lifting his chin. “Do you think I’m unaware that my vassals have sworn their loyalty to me but question my strength? That I do not know that you and a few of your brethren doubt I am as strong as I was the moment I Ascended to rule as your King?”
“I… I…” Hanan stuttered, his skin paling several shades. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were incapable. You didn’t say it was you—”
“Why would I need to tell you that?” Kolis countered.
Hanan went silent.
There was nothing he could say.
Because Kolis had him in a corner. If Hanan admitted that he believed it was someone else who’d Ascended a god, something that should be impossible, then it could mean that he believed Kolis wasn’t capable of doing so. Thinking something was completely different than saying it.
“I would advise you to be more thoughtful in voicing your concerns, Hanan, lest you find yourself falling out of my favor.” Kolis echoed Nyktos’s earlier words. “And it would be considerably unwise to do so when there is another who could take your place.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Hanan said, clearly shaken.
“Leave my sight.” The tendrils spun along the dais. “And do not return until I summon you.”
The Primal of the Hunt and Divine Justice rose, bowing stiffly before turning and leaving the atrium without acknowledging those left in the space.
Silence fell, and then Kolis said, “I apologize that you had to bear witness to such absurdity, Seraphena.”
I jolted, my gaze flying to his. His words. His behavior. None of it fit with what I knew of Kolis. “It’s…it’s okay.”
The false King smiled. “You have a kind, forgiving nature.”
Nyktos’s fingers halted, and seconds ticked by—moments filled with the knowledge that we knew he hadn’t Ascended Bele. And that whatever stood beside him wasn’t quite right. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Attes glance at the guards, and I wondered if he was thinking what I—and likely Nyktos—was.
How many of these guards were ones reborn under Kolis—a Primal who shouldn’t be able to restore life?
“Both of you seemed surprised to see Dyses alive and well.” Kolis glanced between Attes and Nyktos. “Have you two shared the same concerns as Hanan?”
“I have not seen you bestow the honor in a long time, Your Majesty.” Attes shrugged. “It’s just a surprise to see you do such a thing.”
Kolis nodded, then his attention shifted to Nyktos. That smile of his deepened, tightened. “And you?”
“It is unlikely that Hanan and I share any concerns,” he replied smoothly. “I, too, am surprised for the same reasons as Attes. And for the dakkais you sent to my lands shortly after the energy was felt.”
A shiver tiptoed down my spine as I braced myself.
Kolis leaned forward, letting a hand drop over the arm of the throne. The crown glimmered as brightly as the sun. “Why would you think those two things are related?”
“They’re not?”
“No.”
“Bad timing, then?”
“Yes, bad timing.” Kolis’s head tilted in a…a serpentine manner. “I was displeased with your failure to announce your intentions to take a Consort. I am still not pleased that you sought to hold a coronation without my approval.”
I stilled.
So did Nyktos.
That was bullshit, and I doubted that Nyktos believed him. I wasn’t even sure Kolis thought we believed him. Unease ratcheted up. This felt like a game where the rules were kept hidden.