Was he? “How would I know that?”
“You should,” he answered as the coolness of the ointment started to fade, replaced by the numbness he’d promised.
“We may not be complete strangers, but do we really know each other?” I reasoned. “You talked as if killing should always affect a person, leave a mark that never fades. But you have—” I pressed my lips together. “I don’t know you at all.”
“You know more than most.”
“I doubt that.”
“I’ve never spoken about the first person I killed. Not with anyone but you,” he said, his hand leaving my back. I heard the lid turning on the jar. “No one knows it was someone close to me.” He took hold of the collar of the robe, lifting it to cover my back and shoulders. “Nothing I told you at the lake was a lie.”
“If everything you said was true, then why do you have gods impaled on your wall?” I demanded, tightening the sash around my waist as I twisted to face him. There was absolutely no pain from the movement. “How can killing leave a mark when you do things like that?”
“You think…?” The white aura behind his pupil bled into the silver. It was a beautiful effect and a slightly terrifying one. “You think I did that to them?”
“When I asked you why, you said they served as a reminder that life is fragile, even for a god.”
Disbelief flickered across his features. “How did those words incriminate me?” His expression smoothed out quickly. “Yes, they serve as a warning, but not one I issued.”
I stared at him, stunned. Could he be telling the truth? I wasn’t sure what he’d gain from lying about it. “If it wasn’t you, then who did it?”
The swirling in his eyes abated as he reached out and picked up one of the curls that had fallen over my shoulder. “I am not the only Primal god, liessa.”
“Who did that, then? Who would be willing to anger the Primal of Death?”
“You have no problem attempting to anger or argue with me.”
“I’m not arguing with you now.”
One eyebrow rose. “I feel as if every conversation we have verges on an argument when it comes to you.”
“It was you who started arguing with me.” I watched him. Lashes lowered, he appeared absurdly focused on separating the mass of curls.
One side of his lips curved up as he drew one of the curls straight. “You’re arguing with me now.”
I threw up my arms. “That’s because you’re saying—never mind.”
Ash released the strand of hair, his faint grin fading as his gaze met mine. “What do you know about the politics of Iliseeum?”
His question threw me. “Not much,” I admitted. “I know that Primals rule the Courts, and that gods answer to them.”
“Each Court is a territory within Iliseeum with more than enough land for each Primal and their gods to carry out their time as they see fit. And each Primal has more than enough power to do whatever they would like.” He rose from the bed and went to the table. There was a decanter there that hadn’t been there before, along with two glasses. “But no matter how powerful any one being is, there are always some who want more power. Where what they have is not enough.”
A chill swept down my spine as he pulled the stopper from the decanter. He poured the amber liquid into two short glasses. “And for them, they like to push other Primals. See how far they can go. How much they can push before the other lashes out. In a way, it can be a source of entertainment for them.” He carried the glasses over. “Whiskey?”
I took the glass he handed me. “Are you saying that another Primal did that because they were bored?”
“No. That was not done out of boredom.” He turned from me, taking a long drink. “That was done to see how far they could push me. Quite a few Primals enjoy…pushing me.”
The smoky flavor of the whiskey went down surprisingly smooth. “I know I’m about to sound repetitive, but I cannot understand why anyone would do that. You’re the Primal—”
“Of Death. I’m powerful. One of the most powerful. I can kill quicker than most. I can deliver lasting punishment that goes beyond death. I’m feared by mortals, gods, and the Primals, even those who push.” Ash faced me as he took another drink. “And the reason some push has to do with that question you seem rather obsessed with. Well, one of two questions you have asked multiple times. The one with the very complicated answer best not answered while one is bathing.”
It took me a moment. “Why you didn’t fulfill the deal?”
He nodded. “It’s because I did not make the deal.”
Shock seized me as I slowly lowered the glass to the bed beside me. “What?”