I didn’t say anything because I could taste Kieran’s concern. It increased with each pass.
“I have a theory,” Attes said, his voice rough and uneven with pain. “You said she remembered herself at some point after waking up but hasn’t given any indication since?”
“Yes.” I took the fresh, damp linen from Kieran. “The last time I could be sure I was talking to Poppy was right after she woke up. I called her…sweetheart.” I twisted my head as I worked my jaw loose. “She knew I’d never called her that before.”
“Not remembering oneself can happen.” Something dark briefly passed over his features. “But her alternating between being aware of herself and not could be because her Ascension isn’t complete.”
Kieran drew back in surprise. “How? She was asleep for about six days before this.”
“I’ve seen a Primal’s Ascension take over a month,” Attes tiredly replied as he glanced down at his hand. He had wrapped the linen around it. “There’s no set time.”
“Gods,” Kieran muttered, and I knew he had to be thinking the same thing I was. The Culling for Atlantians never took that long.
“But if her Ascension was interrupted when you were injured,” Attes continued, unknowingly twisting the knife deeper into my chest—or perhaps, knowingly. “That could also explain…how vulnerable she was to outside influences.”
I stiffened, my hand tightening around the cloth.
“Didn’t we already discuss this?” Kieran’s tone dripped scorn. “What’s your point?”
A part of me was surprised by the way he was speaking to the Primal god. I’d heard him keep a respectful tone until the moment he ripped out the throat of those who demanded less respect than a Primal god. But he spoke with about as much deference expected of me when speaking with a Primal, and no one had high expectations regarding that.
“My point is, she is likely returning to stasis,” Attes stated as I finished cleaning her the best I could with the small cloth. “Possibly even a deeper one.”
Kieran sat back, his shoulders hunching as I lifted my gaze. I stared at the wall for several moments. “And you don’t know how long?”
“No.”
A hollow weight settled beneath my ribs, the kind of ache that made me want to punch a wall. Instead, I tossed the soiled linen aside and swallowed against the gnawing helplessness.
“You should get her out of whatever she’s wearing,” Attes said after a few moments. “Just in case any of the draken blood got on it.”
I’d already planned to do that but kept that retort to myself. Glancing around the cell, I spotted the quilt against the wall. “Can you grab that for me,” I asked, jerking my chin at it as I lowered my voice.
When Kieran rose to retrieve the blanket, I cut my gaze to the Primal.
“I’ll keep my eyes closed,” he said, likely feeling my glare.
Kieran returned, and together, we stripped her of the ruined clothing and wrapped the quilt around her.
“Casteel,” Attes said when we finished. “I need to speak with you. It won’t take long.”
The message was clear, causing Kieran to fill with wariness.
“Can you go ahead?” I asked. “Get her some fresh clothes and a bath ready.”
He hesitated. “Will you be…fine?”
I looked up at him with an arched brow. “I’ll behave myself.”
“Doubtful,” he muttered, pushing to his feet. He turned to Attes. “Are you sticking around?”
“I’m just sitting still until I can regain some of my strength before returning to Iliseeum,” Attes answered.
Kieran nodded, then released a heavy breath. “Thank you for your help.”
“You’re welcome.”
Kieran then bowed to the Primal, receiving a rough chuckle from Attes. “No need for that.”
