“What was Iliseeum like?” I led Winter around a rather large dip in the road.
“Depends on where you were,” he answered. “Depends on what you found beautiful and what you found frightening.”
I frowned, but before I could ask him to elaborate, he said, “I guess the mortal realm hasn’t changed all that much since the last time I was in it.”
My brows lifted. “You were here before?”
He nodded. “I was here when the area I believe we are riding to was known by the name Lasania.”
“Lasagna?” Kieran’s brows furrowed while I frowned. Where had I seen that name before?
“No. I didn’t say lasagna. I said Lasania. La-sa-nee-ah,” Reaver snapped.
“Sounded like lasagna to me,” he muttered. “What was it like when you were awake? This Lasania you speak of?”
The angular features of Reaver’s face were shadowed by the brim of his hat as he looked through the trees. “I didn’t enter the mortal realm often. Only a few times. Only when necessary. But I think it was a lot like this. Like Solis. It’s where the Consort was born. She was once the Princess, the true heir.”
My jaw had to be on the muddy ground. “What?”
“The Consort was mortal?” Kieran’s surprise matched mine.
“Partly mortal,” Reaver corrected, his gaze following a swath of birds that flew overhead.
“How can anyone be partly mortal?” I demanded.
“Just like you were partly mortal,” he pointed out.
Oh. Well. He had me there.
I leaned forward, staring up at where he sat on the driver’s box. “How was she partly mortal, Reaver?”
There was a heavy sigh as if it were knowledge we should already have. “She was born with an ember of the Primal of Life in her.”
“Well.” I drew out the word. “That sounds far dirtier than I assume was intended.”
Reaver snorted.
“What does that even mean?” Kieran asked, and I had to think it was possibly the nicest way he’d ever posed a question to Reaver.
“It means she was born with the essence of the true Primal of Life in her,” he answered, which explained nothing. “And, no, I’m not talking the kind the third sons and daughters have. This was an ember of pure power.”
I shook my head. “Why am I always more confused after speaking with you?”
“That sounds like a personal issue,” Reaver stated.
Kieran made a noise that sounded an awful lot like a choked laugh. My head swiveled to him. He smoothed out his expression.
“Hold up,” Reaver said, stiffening. “There is another group on this road.”
I faced the road, seeing nothing in the dappled sunlight. “Is it more Huntsmen?”
“I don’t think so.” Kieran’s head cocked to the side as he listened. “There are too many horses.”
“How in the world do you hear anything?” I muttered, squinting at…nothing.
“This is definitely a far larger group,” Reaver said as another cluster of birds took flight.
“Could they be soldiers?” I slowed Winter. We’d seen none so far, which meant the Blood Crown had to be moving them through the Stroud Sea, or they’d already arrived and were within the Rises. The only other option was unlikely—that the Blood Crown had abandoned the cities.
“Give me a few moments.” Kieran handed his reins over to me. “I’ll see if I can get close enough.”
“Be careful.”
With a nod, he quickly dismounted and disappeared into the trees and shrubs.
“I hope he’s quieter than that,” Reaver remarked dryly.
“He will be.”
The handful of minutes that passed before Kieran’s return felt like an eternity. “Definitely soldiers. About two to three dozen total,” he said. My heart lurched. “They’re roughly where the woods thin out.”
My gaze cut to the road. Two to three dozen was a lot.
“I can just burn them.”
My head swung toward Reaver. “No.”
“But it would be quick.”
“Absolutely, not.”
“Let me take care of this.” He started to dismount.
“Do not go all draken and start burning people, Reaver.”
“Why not? It’s fun.”
“That’s not fun for anyone—”
“It is for me.”
“Stay on your wagon,” I ordered. “You shifting and burning things will alert everyone that we have a draken with us. If Isbeth taught Vessa how to harness Primal magic, then she could also use it to kill the remaining draken,” I reminded him. “As far as they know, we no longer have any with us.”
“Whatever,” he muttered.
“I have an idea,” Kieran said. “It’s not much, but if they get close enough to you, they’re going to see that you’re no Huntsman.”
They would also see the scars.
Kieran crouched, and I watched in confusion as he dipped his hands into one of the puddles. “This won’t be fun, but it’ll offer some camouflage as long as they don’t look too closely at your eyes.”
The silvery-white aura behind my pupils was a bit hard to conceal, but this was better than nothing. I leaned down, closing my eyes as Kieran reached up. The feel and texture of the sludge wasn’t pleasant as he smoothed it over my brow, along my cheeks, and then on my chin. I didn’t dare breathe too deeply in case that wasn’t just rain and mud.