Ignitus had gotten Char killed. In trying to stop it, Ash had brought more death to Kula.
What had she done?
A golden bowl full of water sat on the floor next to the lounge, a damp cloth over its edge. Something was odd about the water. It rippled, but Ash hadn’t touched it—
The water bubbled, frothed like seafoam, and formed a face.
Ash jerked back on the lounge. The watery eyes shifted around the room. They landed on her, and an expression like annoyance crossed the face. “I thought my brother was in Kula.”
Hatred and fear usually overpowered any sense of wonder that Ash could feel about the gods—but being so close to this water face, watching the features ripple and glisten, she was rendered speechless. She knew Ignitus communicated and traveled in fire, and only moments ago she had seen Geoxus come to Kula through stone.
Recognition brought feeling into Ash’s limbs.Brother.A face appearing in water.
Hydra, the goddess of water energy who ruled the Apuit Islands.
Ash nodded. “He’s here.”
The goddess of water glanced around the otherwise empty room. An eyebrow lifted.
“In Kula,” Ash said, dumbstruck. “Nothere. Yet.”
Hydra heaved a sigh, the water undulating around her face. “Who are you—a servant? Actually, I don’t care. I’m not waiting for him. Pass along my response: I received his message. I have heard no similar rumors. He should stop worrying and leave me out of his squabbles with Biotus, Aera, and Geoxus.”
Hydra sank back into the water with a parting splash.
Ash started. Ignitus had sent Hydra a message? Why? Only fourof the six gods treated their people like disposable objects; two hadn’t used their arenas in so long that they were falling into disrepair. That was only a rumor—the two peaceful gods, Hydra, of water hydreia, and Florus, of plant floreia, had long ago formed a coalition against their warmongering siblings. No one other than their own people had been to their countries in decades, as any mortal who tried to cross into either Hydra’s or Florus’s lands was immediately stopped and sent away.
Ash hadn’t heard of the other gods speaking to Hydra or Florus—though that didn’t mean it never happened. What did Ignitus want with Hydra?
A flash of orange and blue filled the room.
Ash hurtled to her feet. Her foot caught on the golden bowl and sent the water spilling across the carpet, soaking books and scrolls. She lost her balance and crashed to her knees.
Ignitus appeared, grim faced and fuming. His silken robe fluttered around him, showing strands of glass beads draped across his chest. A few torches were already lit throughout the room; five more flared to life at his presence. He eyed them, then looked at Ash, merely because she was in front of him, and he would have had to make a great show of ignoring her to look elsewhere.
Ash almost told Ignitus about Hydra. But her fingers dug into the soaked carpet, and her mouth tasted like sand.
She was bowing before the creature who had murdered her mother.
The last remnants of Ash’s shock shattered beneath the heavy drop of rage.
Ignitus may have been the god of fire, but he didn’t know whatit was like to feelthiskind of fire, an anger so pure and absolute that even the sun shied from it.
She wouldn’t tell him. The reason Hydra and Florus had had to form a blockade around their countries was to prevent their warmongering siblings from drawing them into fights. Whatever dispute Ignitus wanted to start with Hydra, apeacefulgoddess, Ash would let him fail at it. She wouldn’t assist him in anything that would lead to more bloodshed.
“You,” he started, “broke our holy laws. Your mother lost. The Nikaus today have nearly undone their lineage’s good deeds.”
Sweat pasted Ash’s orange-and-scarlet dancing costume to her skin, and her breaths came in stunted gasps. She bit back a whimper, calling on her fury to keep her strong.
But one of his words hooked her.Nearly?
Ignitus took slow steps around her, his bare feet squishing in the water-soaked carpet. He didn’t mention it, merely nudged the empty bowl out of the way as he left her direct line of sight. “My brother’s gladiator, though,” he continued, “was the most foolish of all today.”
Slowly, Ash stood. Her legs tingled at being unbent, but she felt better not being on her knees. “Great Ignitus,” she said, turning to follow him, “I didn’t—”
“Stavos thought that his poisoned knife would not be seen.” Ignitus’s eyes locked on hers. “He thought that my Kulans would not meet his cheating with violent force.”
Was that a spark in his eyes, a smile on his lips?
