Ignitus’s gray hair; the wrinkles around Geoxus’s eyes. Putting a part of their energeias into another vessel had started to weaken the gods’ immortalities.
So there was a way to kill Ignitus—by taking away or giving up his energeia. Now that Ash no longer wanted to kill him, having that answer felt cruel.
Ignitus clapped his hands together. “We need to return to Kula. Geoxus isn’t the only one who can gather an army. We’ll be ready for him and for whatever Anathrasa tries to do, and we’ll get the other gods to stand against them too.”
Tor gaped up at Ignitus. Ash recognized the shock on his face—it was the first time he had heard Ignitus say something in defense of Kula.
She understood the discomfort of listening to Ignitus speak and realizing that she agreed with what he said. It was a foreign sensation.
“He’s going to help us,” Ash told Tor. “All the wars, the arena fights—he’s been trying to protect Kula’s resources. I don’t forgive him.” She looked pointedly at Ignitus. “But he can help us now.”
Ignitus sulked. But he flinched when Tor pushed to his feet, eyes studious. Ignitus returned the stare before shifting and dropping his gaze.
He deferred to Tor.
Ash’s lips parted. The whole world felt like it fractured and remade itself anew.
Tor’s breath grated as he lifted his hand and pointed a finger at Ignitus, trembling. “Things will be different,” he said. “When we return to Kula, we want to be involved in its governing.”
Ignitus straightened his shoulders. “I’m the god of Kula. It’s my job to rule it.”
“You’ve done a shit job,” Tor said.
The surprise that painted Ignitus’s face was one of the most satisfying things Ash had ever seen.
“Kula is our country too,” Tor continued. He was close to tears.
Ash grabbed Tor’s hand and used it to pull herself to her feet. She felt stronger now, filled with the sensation of something long broken coming together. “What he’s trying to say is—you aren’t alone in ruling Kula. We all want to help make our country safe.”
Ignitus started. His eyes shifted back to Tor, and after a long moment, his eyelids fluttered.
“I’ll consider making some changes,” he whispered.
Tor nodded. A tear slid down his cheek, but he looked back at Taro. “We need to get all the Kulans to the docks. Our ship shouldn’t take long to prepare. The sooner we leave, the better.”
Ash braced herself. “I have to go to the palace. I’m not leaving without Madoc.”
Tor whipped a look at her, but she held up her hand.
“If we leave him, Geoxus and Anathrasa will force Madoc to take away other gods’ energeias and give them to Geoxus so he can invade the world. I won’t let them do that. We need to save him.”
“Ash—” Tor bit off whatever he’d been about to say. He looked her up and down. “Can you fight?”
He didn’t mention her lack of igneia, but it was heavy in his eyes.
She ground her teeth and nodded—though she truly didn’t know if she could fight. She had managed to fend off four centurions, but that was only thanks to Ignitus’s assistance. What would she do against Geoxus, Anathrasa, Petros, and even more centurions?
“I’ll have my guards head for the palace,” Ignitus said. “Brand and Raya haven’t yet left—they can help too. You just worry about getting Madoc. Leave the fighting to us.”
Ash bowed her head in thanks. She wasn’t sure she could speak.
What would Char say about this alliance?
Their god swept away, making for the corridor and his soldiers in the arena beyond. Taro and Spark shot aside, and once he left, they closed in on Ash, wrapping her up in a shared hug.
But Tor turned away, his eyes on the ceiling.
Ash pulled herself out of Taro’s arms. She took a wobbling step forward, surprised when she was able to catch herself and stand upright.
