“Much of it does.” He sat back. “But this Maiden is not a part of that. If she did live, and she was like you—part Atlantian, and shared your gifts or something similar—she wasn’t given to the gods. She was most likely used in the same way they plan to use you.”
The breath that left me was ragged. “If…if they’ve had your brother, why would they have needed her?”
He eyed me from his chair. “Atlantians need Atlantian blood to survive. One who is only half-Atlantian can provide the necessary sustenance. That was how I was kept alive.
I swallowed thickly, hurting for him despite everything. Hurting for her, a woman I didn’t even know, wasn’t even sure existed. “She could’ve been held captive to…to feed him? To keep him alive?”
“Without Atlantian blood, we don’t die,” he said.
I frowned. “How could you not survive but still live?”
“Because what we become is not something I would compare to being alive,” he answered. Before I could question that, he spoke. “If there was a first Maiden, she was either keeping my brother alive, or she was used in the same manner as he is. Possibly both. But either way, I imagine that she has long since perished. What you should be asking is why they need you. Why would they make you the Maiden, keep you closeted away, under their protection and under their ever-watchful gaze? Why did they wait until now for your Ascension?” He spat out the last word. “Earlier, after the Craven, you were right about why they forced you to stay quiet about being bitten and told you never to use your abilities. Someone could’ve discovered what you were, and that would have brought their entire house of bones down on them. So, why did they wait so long and take that risk? Please tell me that you’ve asked yourself these questions.”
My skin chilled. “I have. They…they want to use me to make more vamprys. But why? They have—”
“And why do you think they waited this long?” he repeated. “Why did this supposed first Maiden conveniently disappear around the same time her abilities began to grow? There is no Ascension for you. The gods require no service. They waited so you could be useful to them.” He sat forward. “There’s a reason the Ascended wait until a certain age to Ascend. Do you know what happens when an Atlantian reaches the age of nineteen?”
I did. I’d read about it in The History of The War of Two Kings and the Kingdom of Solis. The answer had been in that damn book I’d been forced to read a hundred times. Probably the only part that was true. “An Atlantian reaches a state of maturity. You call it…the Culling, when they go through physical changes.”
“And when certain other abilities begin to manifest or strengthen for some,” he added, his eyes bright in the dimly lit room. “For me, it was compulsion. As a child, I could be somewhat persuasive, but once I went through the Culling, I could force my will onto another if I wished.”
A hollowness spread in my stomach. “Then why haven’t you just made me go along with whatever it is you wish for me to do?”
His brows furrowed together. “Because I may be a monster, but I’m not that kind of monster, Poppy.”
There was a catch in my chest as I looked away from him.
“Besides, compulsions are temporary, only useful for immediate gains,” he said. When I looked at him again, his expression had smoothed out. “And interestingly, just like you can’t pick up on emotions from the Ascended, compulsions do not work on them either.”
I cleared my throat. “Do you know why?”
“Some believe it’s because they have no soul.”
I thought of Ian and then shut those thoughts down. “So you think my abilities are changing because I’m going through the Culling?”
“A version of it, yes. Your blood wouldn’t have been useful to them until you at least hit nineteen, even if your abilities took the next two years to morph.”
As I processed what he was telling me, my brain went in one direction. “Will I develop…fangs?”
He lifted his brows. “Doubtful. Half-Atlantians don’t need blood, so they don’t need fangs.”
“What about…immortality?”
“Would you not want that?”
I thought of the Ascended, of how long they lived, and I wasn’t sure their lack of humanity was due to what they did to survive or because they lived to see everyone around them die several generations over.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “Will I?”
He shook his head. “Only full-blooded Atlantians have what mortals would think of as immortality.”
I wasn’t sure if I should feel relieved or not. “Can I even Ascend then? Be made into a vampry?” I asked, thinking of Ian. If he were part Atlantian like me…
“I honestly don’t know, Poppy. It is forbidden for any Atlantian to Ascend anyone with a drop of mortal blood in them. Even the half-Atlantians that live in Atlantia are not Ascended. They live and die just like mortals,” he explained, and that was something I didn’t know about those who lived in Atlantia. That not all Atlantians were like him. “I would imagine a half-Atlantian going through an Ascension would be the same as a mortal. They would become a vampry.”
Meaning, they would be ruled by bloodlust, just not as consumed by it as a Craven. Pressure settled in my chest. “When a person is turned—made vampry—what happens to them?”
He was quiet for several moments before he said, “They are fed upon by other vamprys, brought to the brink of death by blood loss, and then fed blood from an Atlantian. Sometimes, the change is immediate. Other times, they can appear dead for hours. But they wake up and…they are hungry. As uncontrollable as a Craven, it often takes several Ascended to subdue them.” His jaw worked as his gaze shifted to the fire. “Even after being fed, they’re consumed by hunger. I’ve heard that it can take weeks, sometimes months for a newly made vampry to control his or her thirst.”
A sinking sensation threatened to pull me through the floor. There had been a space of time after Ian’s Ascension that I hadn’t heard from him. It was when he’d married, and it had been months.
“And I know that for those who could not abide by what was now needed of them, they ensured that they would not harm another,” he added quietly.
“How?” I asked, instinct telling me that the answer wasn’t going to be an easy one.
“They choose to walk when the sun is at its highest. It doesn’t take long, but it is not quick by any means. Nor is it painless.”
Oh, gods.
Now that…that sounded like something Ian would do. But he was alive. He’d been sending letters. He had to be alive.
I swallowed. “Those you saw turned? Did all of them seem aware of what was happening?”
His gaze shifted back to me. “I know where you’re going with this, and I don’t think the answer will change things in the way you wish.”
“Will you just answer the question?”
His lips thinned. “The Ascended held a ceremony for it. Mortals were brought in dressed in robes and wearing masks. Meaningless words were chanted, and candles were lit. Some seemed to know what would occur. Most appeared intoxicated. I had no idea if they knew exactly what was happening.” His chest rose with a deep breath. “Some seemed drugged. I doubt they even knew if they were awake.”
I stared at him, stuck in this terrible place between relief and horror. Suddenly, I understood why he hadn’t wanted to answer the question. If Ian had been drugged to the point where he hadn’t been aware—if others hadn’t been aware of what was happening—that was far worse.
Casteel watched me silently. “There is no reason for an Ascended to turn a half-Atlantian. Doing so would taint the blood—the part they need to either turn other Ascended or to keep an Atlantian alive. That is why they made sure you were healthy and safe, why your precious Queen cared so tenderly for you,” he said. My entire body went as taut as a bowstring. “Your blood meant nothing to them before now, and it would mean even less to them if you went through the Ascension.”
So, Ian and I likely had different parents, either one or both. Because he had to have been turned. He’d been writing me letters, and Casteel claimed that Ian had only been seen at night. Unless—
Unless Casteel’s contacts had seen someone else, and it hadn’t been Ian sending those letters at all.
The pressure inside me increased, shifting to my stomach as I swallowed thickly. I couldn’t even consider any of that right now while I was so far from Ian. The questions and the doubts would crush me.
And I already felt crushed.
I knew what they’d planned for me before, but to fully understand why they’d waited, why they did everything they had done, it sickened me to the point where I feared I might actually become physically ill.
“They were only keeping me alive until they…” I choked on my words as the weight of them threatened to crush me.
Casteel said nothing as he sat there, though that was probably for the best at the moment. I felt like a powder keg that had been lit. Inside me, disbelief and anger sparked. I’d been kept sheltered and virtually caged, cared for like some prized cattle until my blood had aged. Until it was useful—either to make more vamprys or to keep another alive to continue making more.