Ilena said with a small, sad smile. She kissed his forehead. “You’re my son, and I love you. That’s what I meant to say before. I love you, Madoc. Now go.”
He blinked, and she was gone.
“Madoc.”
He startled at the sound of Ash’s voice. She’d come up beside him on the deck of the ship, but he hadn’t heard her approach. How that was possible he didn’t know. He could hear everything else with crystalline clarity—the wind filling the sails. Tor urging the captain to veer south to avoid Deiman fishing crews. The creak of every board and the slap of the waves against the siding.
It all pulled at him, demanding equal attention with the too-bright gleam of the moon and the rough, splintering wood of the ship’s siding beneath his hands. The only way he’d managed to stay conscious was by holding perfectly still. He could still feel the pulse of the gods’ energeia in his veins, the warring strength of his muscles with the mortal frailness of his bones. He couldn’t hold a single thought in his head.
Ilena.
Elias.
Anathrasa.
Petros and Geoxus and Ignitus. Dead. Dead because of him.
“Madoc.” Ash’s voice was softer now. He turned slightly toward her, finding she’d changed into a clean, white tunic and braided her long hair over one shoulder. Her mouth was a knot of worry, and the lines that creased her brow brought a jagged edge to his breath.
She had lost too much to be worried for him.
He set his gaze back to the black water. It stretched on and on, blending with the night sky in the distance.
“I can’t see Crixion anymore,” he said, voice cracking.
Her gaze stayed on him, warm, even without her igneia. “That doesn’t mean it isn’t there.” She placed two fingers on his temple, stilling the punch of his thoughts. “Or here.”
He tried to focus on home. On the good parts. On Ilena’s promise.
But he couldn’t hold on to them.
Her fingers drew away, and he tilted forward, wishing she was still touching him.
His shoulder twitched. Would this energeia ever subside? It had been hours since the ship had left the mainland, and still he felt like lightning encased in flesh. He had to get this under control so he could go back for the Metaxas. Ilena was in more danger now than ever. Elias needed him. If anything happened to them, Danon and Ava would be alone.
For a brief, weak moment, he wished Anathrasa was here to teach him how to shut this down. But he didn’t know where she was, or if she had survived the riots that had taken the city as they’d run.
Maybe it was the energeia inside him, but something told him she lived, and that the next time they met she would be stronger, more deadly.
“You need to rest,” Ash said quietly. He tried to cling to her voice, but it was swept away in the current of sound and sights. He blinked, trying to steady his breath. Trying to will down the fear of what he’d done, what he could do. What he might do next.
Strangle your doubt. It has no place in the heart of a weapon.
He wasn’t Geoxus’s weapon. He wasn’t Anathrasa’s either. But he was more lethal than either of them, because he could take their power away.
Where did that leave him?
What did that make him?
“I can’t . . .” He gave a dry, pained laugh. “I can’t let go of the side of the ship.”
Ash’s gaze dropped to his hands, and his followed. His knuckles were white, his fingertips tinged purple from the effort.
“What happens if you do?” she asked, her voice on the edge of the pounding in his head.
“I don’t know.”
The slight pressure of her fingers against his shoulder made him jerk. She went to pull away, but he quickly shook his head.
Her touch slid slowly down his arm, gentle and steady, and quieting each flexing muscle it passed. He focused on the cool feel of her fingertips, on the tiny muscles that bent each knuckle as her hand closed around his.
His breath came out in a hard pull.
“What if you hold on to me instead?” she asked.
His gaze shot to hers, and then back to his hand, where she’d softly begun to pry loose each of his fingers. Longing cut through him with the sharp point of a knife. He wanted to press his face against the groove of her neck. Fan his hands over the small of her back. Disappear in the scent of her