A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire(67)

Looking down, a sudden urge swept through me. “It has been years since I felt sand under my feet.”

“Now is a better time than any to feel it again, I suppose.”

His dry response didn’t deter me as I yanked off my boots and socks. A grin tugged at my lips as I wiggled my toes in the warm, coarse sand.

Kieran snorted. “Malik used the do the same as soon as he reached the sand. Tear off his shoes so he could feel it against his feet.”

A heaviness settled over me as I walked toward the Bay, leaving my shoes and socks behind in a pile. “What was Malik like? I mean, what is he like?”

Kieran followed a few steps behind me, silent for a long moment. “He was kind and generous but also a wicked prankster. Casteel was always the far more serious one.” He joined me. “He was the brother you would’ve thought was being groomed from birth to be King.”

Casteel, the serious one? That surprised me more than the fact that a god slept in the Bay.

My thoughts must’ve been visible on my face because he said, “The way Casteel is with you—the teasing and trying to get a rise out of you—isn’t how he is with most.”

“So, it’s an act?”

“No, Casteel is just more…alive when he’s with you,” he said, and I—

I thought my jaw might hit the sand.

“And Malik was the life and soul of the family,” Kieran continued. I picked my mouth up off the ground. “And the past tense is correct. Even if he lives, he will not be who he used to be.”

“But he’ll have his family to help him remember—his parents, Casteel, you,” I reasoned. “All of you can help him remember who he once was.”

Kieran didn’t respond.

I looked at him. “Do you…do you think he still lives?”

“He has to. Even if the vamprys have been capturing Atlantians all these years, full-blooded or half, they would not allow the Prince to die. With him, it takes less blood to complete the Ascension. He’s too much of a prize to let wither and die.”

Stomach churning, I briefly closed my eyes. While a large part of me hoped he still lived, a small part almost wished he didn’t. Whatever existence he had under the Ascended’s control was no life.

The question that was already answered surfaced again. How could the Ascended be allowed to continue?

They couldn’t be.

If Casteel and I were successful, then would I seriously be content spending the rest of my life safely hidden away while the Ascended continued ruling the people of Solis with fear? Stealing their children and who knew how many other people? If the Queen and King lived or died, wouldn’t the other Ascended simply find another Atlantian to continue making more Ascended, even if it were forbidden?

Casteel wanted to avoid war, but how could anyone be sure that the Royals would change? That they wouldn’t seek to go back to the way things were?

Kieran shifted slightly, looking over his shoulder. I followed his gaze, squinting. Three or four people walked past the crumbling walls, their clothing a vibrant array of golds and blues.

“Who are they?”

“Not entirely sure who they are,” Kieran answered, turning back around. “But most of the people here are older Descenters and Atlantians and wolven.”

I watched them until I could no longer see them, my stomach twisting into tiny knots. How would they respond to me? Friendly and outgoing like Elijah and Alastir, or would they be like the rest?

“Casteel and I came here once when we were younger, before the town was razed,” Kieran said, catching my attention. “It was one of the first times we’d left Atlantia. Malik was with us, and the people who lived here, those who were half-Atlantian or supporters knew who we were and behaved as if Rhain himself had risen from the Bay.”

Not one but two Princes in their midst must have stirred up some excitement.

“A lot of people crowded the edges of the Bay.” He squinted as if he were trying to see what had once been here. “A small girl slipped on the embankment and fell into the water. There was panic and helplessness as everyone stood at the edge.”

I sat down, several feet from the water’s edge. “No one jumped in after her?”

He shook his head. “No mortal enters these waters and returns. The people believed that Rhain’s sentries would capture anyone who dared, grabbing their ankles and pulling them down below.” One side of his lips quirked up in a wry grin as he lowered himself to the spot beside me. “But Cas jumped in. Didn’t even think twice about it. Just dove right in, even though the girl had slipped under and hadn’t resurfaced.”

I turned back to the Bay. “Did he find her?”

“He did. Pulled her back to the water’s edge where Malik and—” He drew in a deep breath, stretching out a leg. “One of our friends was able to force the water from her lungs. The girl breathed. She lived. And those who were unaware of what Malik and Cas were, truly believed they were gods.”

I was happy to hear that the girl had lived, and I hoped that what happened to this town came long after her time. But my brain got stuck on something. Kieran had almost said a name for this friend, and I had a good idea who it was.

“Was it Shea who came here with you all?”

“What?” Kieran’s head snapped in my direction. “How do you know her name?” His eyes narrowed, and before I could respond, he muttered, “Alastir.”

I nodded. “Alastir told me about her. That Casteel was once engaged to his daughter.”

His features sharpened. “Alastir shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Why? That was his daughter,” I argued. “He lost her, too, and before you get mad at him, he even told me he probably shouldn’t have brought her up. I haven’t said anything to Casteel.” Well, that was kind of true.

“But, of course, you have questions.”

“I do,” I admitted.

Kieran slowly shook his head as he stared out over the Bay. “You’re not asking for my advice, but I’m going to give it to you, nonetheless. This time, I truly hope you listen.” His icy blue eyes met mine. “Don’t bring up Shea with Cas. That is a road you don’t want to travel with him. Ever.”

My brows lifted. “But she’s a part of him and—”

“And why does that matter to you?” he challenged. “This marriage will only be temporary, correct? Why do you need to know about those who shaped who he is today? That kind of knowledge is for those who plan on a future.”

I snapped my mouth shut as frustration boiled inside me. Kieran was right, but…

Sighing, I looked over my shoulder, able to see the upper walls of the fortress. Had Casteel cooled down? “Are you sure he’ll be okay?”

Kieran’s head inclined as he studied me. “Do you want an honest answer or one that will make this easier for you?”

“You said earlier that he’d be okay,” I pointed out as dread blossomed to life.

“He will be.” He paused. “For now.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that he’ll be okay for a little longer, but he needs to feed. He’s gone too long.”

Dread pumped through me, alive and well. “When was the last time he fed?”

“I’m not sure, but it had to be when we were in Masadonia.” He dragged a hand over his head and then dropped it, glancing back to the water. “Normally, he’d be able to go for weeks without feeding, but he’s given you blood twice, and then he was wounded. That moved him closer to the edge.”

“He didn’t need to give me his blood last time.”

His gaze swiveled back to mine. “I know. I told him not to, but he did it anyway. He didn’t want to see you in pain.”

I sucked in a short breath. “And now he’s in pain because of that. Because of me?”

“It’s not because of you, Penellaphe. It was his choice. Just as it has been his choice not to feed.”

“I still don’t get that.” Frustrated, I picked up a fistful of sand. “Why would he do this to himself? I felt his hunger, Kieran. It was intense, and the longer he goes, it will only get worse—”

“And you will be more at risk.”

I stilled, even though my heart thundered. “I thought he was the only person I was safe with. Isn’t that what you said?”

“You are, but when an Atlantian doesn’t feed, no one is safe. Not even those they care about or even love.”

Air left me in a singular rush. Love? “He doesn’t care for me.”

Kieran stared back at me. “If it helps you to believe that, then by all means, continue. But that doesn’t make it true.”

I glared at him. “And just because you spout vague statements doesn’t make whatever you’re saying true either.”

“He gave you his blood when you didn’t need it, just so you wouldn’t be in pain when you woke—”

“And so I didn’t delay in leaving New Haven!”

“Funny how we weren’t planning to leave the moment you woke anyway,” he replied. “Which you’re conveniently forgetting.”

I clamped my mouth shut.

“Even if that were the case, which it isn’t, if he didn’t care, he wouldn’t have been concerned over you being uncomfortable during our travels, would he? And if he didn’t care, he would’ve used a hundred different compulsions at this point, no matter how temporary, to keep you better controlled, something that would make all our lives easier.”