Atlanta almost rolls her eyes. “If they did, they would be as frantic as we are.”
Ozias shakes his head, but addresses me. “Bonds are secondarily meant for reproduction. As Dyeus only hasmale draconem, the deaths they might experience would be lower than what we’re seeing on the ground. A few deaths of their own means nothing to them.”
“They take our people any opportunity they get, the majority of which are women. We know they seal them into their dragons forms and force them to collect.”
My mouth drops open in horror. Of course they would do that, though. If they sealed the women of Nevoba in our human forms, I’m certain they would do the opposite if it served them.
“It’s still not enough,” Ozias argues.
“And still we’re not seeing enough deaths to reflect those turned ravaged.”
He presses his fists into the hard wood of the table. “Of which, we should be grateful, not questioning.”
I get the sense this isn’t the first time they’ve had this discussion and I’m proven right when Atlanta says, “We’ll continue to disagree on that.”
My interest piqued, I tuck my hair behind the points of my ears and turn my attention to her. “You have a theory?”
Atlanta’s gaze flits to Ozias. Annoyance surges within me and I realize it’s because I don’t like that she looks to him, as if she needs permission to speak. I straighten and cross my arms. “I don’t really care what Ozias thinks,” I tell her. “I’m asking you.”
“I’m wounded,” he complains, placing his palm over his heart.
“You’ll heal,” I shoot back without taking my eyes off Atlanta.
She holds my attention with hers and I see the moment she decides to speak candidly, her spine straightening. “I’ve been tracking the numbers of the soul collectors and when they turn ravaged. Many disappear shortly after turning,” she explains. “I think Dyeus is harboring them.”
I can only imagine what Dyeus might do with a ravaged hoard. “For what purpose?”
“It’s no secret we’re trying to escape our fate here. I think they’re keeping them so that when they need it, they have a ravaged hoard ready to unleash on us.”
My pulse pounds in my throat and I can’t stop myself from spinning towards Ozias. “Tell me you’re taking her seriously.”
“Disappearing ravaged could happen for a number of reasons. The human lands are not in a state of peace and the draconem aren’t honored and accepted as we once were, and it would stand to reason that just as many are lost in the world beyond the mountains. What’s further, Dyeus let the ravaged roam over Nevoba so that they can believe in the lie they’ve crafted to keep them in check. They wouldn’t risk cracking that façade by hoarding them. Letting them be dwindles our numbers as surely as hoarding them and releasing them upon us would.”
“But it dwindles Nevoba’s, too,” I offer. “Many of us are discontent that Dyeus isn’t doing anything against the plight. Could this be them doing something?”
Atlanta gives Ozias a pointed look. “An excellent point.”
“It is. And if their goal is to keep the Nevobans placated, which itis, they would never unleash them on us.”
Atlanta pinches the bridge of her nose, then drops her hand, giving Ozias a stern look. “They would when the time comes. Don’t tell me they wouldn’t be willing to unleash on us that which would decimate us two-fold.”
“There is no proof, Atlanta, and even if these theories were true, we have no recourse.” He pins her with an unyielding stare.
Atlanta flicks her gaze to me, then back to Ozias, her jaw flexing tight. Then, she twists away, as if she can’t stand to look at us. “You’re not hearing me.”
“Iamhearing you,” he continues, each word like a stake impaled in the ground. “You just don’t like my response.”
She stands rigid for a moment, then storms from the room without another word. Ozias’s eyes hold smoke from a long simmering rage as he watches her go.
I massage my brow, trying to wrap my head around their arguments. Threat of a ravaged hoard or no, all of this depends on me and my success to move it forward. Itdepends on me to ensure Ninon can have a life in this world she’s claimed as her own. As for my people, as long as they are prepared, I can do this for them. I will do this. Another mother doesn’t need to have a child needlessly torn from her breast. The huntresses will no longer wonder why they feel a deep, unending ache when the wind caresses their face. We won’t be sequestered underground any longer. We will take what is ours. I will steal the sky, and give it back to them.
“I hope Atlanta is wrong,” I finally say, then point to the large manuscript Ozias said held all the possibilities of what could happen after the fall of Dyeus. “But in the event she’s right and we do have a ravaged hoard on our hands, I’ll have to strike when they don’t expect it. I’ll have to take down the Sar Dyeus discreetly. Quietly.” The pressure is already a hefty weight on my shoulders, but I hold my head high. They won’t trust me if I fold now.
Ozias sighs, laying a hand on the book. “You will do what you can, and we’ll make it be enough. You’re not alone in this.”
I regard him for a long while, then finally ask the question I’d been wanting to know the answer to for days. “That morning by the base of the mountain. What were you doing?”
Ozias holds my gaze, his face full of hope. “Finding you.”
