A Discovery of Secrets and Fate (Chronicles of the Stone Veil #2) - Sawyer Bennett Page 0,112

a few decades,” he replies as a wave of dizziness passes over me. I know the gods are far older than he, because he said they’ve been in existence since the beginning of time, which is a whole lot older than five thousand years. I also know fae and immortals are ancient as well, but I never asked just how ancient. Hearing that Carrick is almost five thousand freaking years old is something I’m not prepared to process right in this moment.

Perhaps sensing I might be in overload, Carrick takes my elbow and leads me over to the reading nook, easing me down into a chair. He doesn’t wait for me to ask questions. Instead, he launches into what he presumes I want to know as a good-faith showing of trust.

“I was created by the gods in the year 2836 BCE,” he begins, and I do what I do best.

Blurt out an interruption. “BCE?”

To my surprise, Carrick’s expression remains patient. “Before the Common Era. It’s the same as BC meaning Before Christ.”

I did not know that, but I tuck it away. It’s enough to know he’s—by my rough calculations—4,855 years old.

I have more important questions though. “Created? What does that mean? Do they have sex and birth you? Form you from clay and blow life into you?”

“I don’t know,” Carrick replies with a casual shrug. “As far as I know… I just… was.”

I frown. This is so contrary to everything I know about the supernatural. Even fae—outside the original fallen angels—and daemons are born. “Are the gods your parents?”

“No. Not in any way. You can think of them more like my masters.”

“You’re a slave?”

“I was created to serve at their will,” he replies, and it all comes racing back to me.

That night my sister turned into a Dark Fae and Carrick told me about the prophecies and the gods, I had asked him then what he was.

And his reply was, “I am but a servant of the gods.”

I had thought he meant that he was a human lackey for them. Not an immortal they had fashioned.

“What do you do for them?” I murmur, hating to think this man has essentially slaved himself for the gods for thousands of years.

“I serve their whims,” he replies with a hint of bitterness. “Sometimes, that can be aiding in prophecies, but mostly in the ancient times, it meant fighting in their wars. Being invincible and leading an army into battle is quite the advantage.”

“And your brothers… Maddox and Lucien? Are they demi-gods?”

Carrick nods. “Created around the same time as me. We have fought many battles together.”

My gaze drifts off to the side, staring at the beautiful hardwood floors that resemble the ones upstairs. I have a million questions, and I’m trying to sort them in an order that will put Carrick and what type of man—I mean, god—he is into context for me.

“You said you were invincible going into battles,” I say as I turn my focus back on him. “What exactly does that mean? What can you do?”

Carrick inches forward on his chair, perching on the end of the seat with his elbows on his knees. It puts him closer to me as he leans forward. “I’m immortal to the extent it’s practically impossible to kill me. I can recover any wound unless you separate my head from my body and carry it a continent away, but, even then, the gods might put me back together so I can continue to serve them. But there is one sure way I can be killed, and that is by my creators. I imagine it can be done with a snap of their fingers if they so desired.”

That made Carrick more powerful than fae. A thought strikes. “What about magical abilities?”

“Obviously, you know I have some.” His eyes bore into mine without blinking. He wants me to know he is putting everything out on the table. “The gods granted a diluted version of their own powers. My strength makes me nearly indomitable. I can do protection spells and conjure items from nothing. I can compel humans to do my bidding, as you’ve seen, and I’m resistant to fae and daemon powers.”

I wonder if Carrick has ever used the power of compulsion on a woman, but looking at him now—the perfectness of him—I know that’s ridiculous.

“Can you bend distance?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Move between realms?”

“Yes.”

Frowning, I ask, “Why did you need Stan to bring me to Faere?”

“Because while I can move freely in and out, I cannot bring a