Total pages in book: 401
Estimated words: 390373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1952(@200wpm)___ 1561(@250wpm)___ 1301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 390373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1952(@200wpm)___ 1561(@250wpm)___ 1301(@300wpm)
For a brief moment, I was pleased with the change of subject, but it didn’t last long. To be honest, discussing the Ascended felt more difficult than talking about war plans.
Because I knew what had to be done.
Casteel watched me as I took a drink of the sweet wine that suddenly tasted sour. “They have to be dealt with.”
I set my glass down and took a breath. “What of the ones who had no stockpiles of blood? We don’t know why that is.”
“We don’t,” Kieran said. “And that’s on us. We should’ve looked into it. But, Poppy, they likely just ran out.”
“I’ve seen many Ascended in bloodlust brought on by not feeding. They turn Craven.” Casteel’s fingers tapped his glass. “I’ve never come across an Ascended who didn’t feed—couldn’t—and retained any semblance of sanity.”
And he would know. He’d seen it happen while Isbeth held him captive the first time.
I asked myself again if the Ascended could go without blood, but the vadentia was still silent.
What I did know was that no one had ever spoken of Ascended who lived without blood and did not turn Craven.
Still, a heaviness settled on my chest. I knew what had to be done, but that didn’t change the fact that…killing every single Ascended didn’t sit right with me.
And, gods, wasn’t that absurd?
Because if Isbeth had harmed Casteel? My gaze fell on the hand she’d taken the finger from. If she had harmed him more than she already had? If she had killed him? I would’ve destroyed every Ascended and not thought twice about it. So, what was the difference now? Was the essence of life rebelling against the idea of so much death? And it was death because, despite what anyone—including me—thought of the Ascended, they still lived.
Casteel laid his hand on my arm. “I know there’s a lot going on in your head. Talk to us.”
“I’m…I don’t know how I ended up being the one making these decisions,” I said. “I’m not prepared for this.”
“I don’t think many who find themselves in your position are ever truly prepared, despite the training they may have had,” Kieran said, sounding wise as usual.
I dragged my foot against the stone floor and forced myself to stay seated instead of moving about.
Casteel moved his hand to mine, stilling my fingers. Only then did I realize I had been twisting the edge of the napkin. My eyes lifted to his.
“They are not Ian,” he said softly.
Air fled my lungs, and my heart twisted. Gods, was that it? Was that why I was having such a hard time coming to a decision? When I thought of the Ascended, were my first thoughts not about all the terrible things they’d done but about Ian? Was it the hope that he had somehow been different from all the Ascended I knew? Because if some Ascended were different, then that meant Ian could’ve still been the person I knew and loved.
Gods. I was sure Vikter had said something once about clinging to knowledge based purely on one’s foolish wishes. And it was foolish. The Ascended weren’t Ian.
In truth, the moment Ian Ascended, I no longer knew who he was. And if I let that guide my thoughts now, I would be endangering both mortals and Atlantians.
I took a deep breath. “We cannot save them,” I said hoarsely. “The best we can do is prevent others from suffering their fate.”
Surprise flickered across Casteel’s face. “You sure you’re okay with that?”
“I’m not.” I cleared my throat. “But I don’t think doing what is right always feels good.”
“It doesn’t.” Kieran cocked his head. “And that sounded incredibly…adult of you.”
I pinned him with a dry-as-the-Wastelands look. “How…how will we go about it?”
“There are ways to do it without causing pain or making it a spectacle.” Casteel squeezed my hand. “That’s how we prove we’re different from the Blood Crown.”
Recalling how they loved making an example with public executions, I nodded. “Good.” Picking up my glass, I took a drink to ease the knot in my throat. “It should be done quietly.”
Kieran exchanged a look with Casteel. “I can put together a group of those best suited to carry it out—”
“No.”
They turned to me.
“We are making this choice,” I said, my hand curling into a fist. “We won’t ask others to carry out the orders.”
“Poppy.” Casteel’s hand tightened around mine. “You don’t need that on your—”
“On my what? My soul?” I interrupted. “Then why would I want it darkening someone else’s? Because it would. It should. I won’t allow another to take my place. None of us will.”
His jaw tensed and then loosened. “You’re right.”
I took another deep breath. I had to do what I knew Casteel and Kieran were so good at. What many who’d been in my position had done before. It wasn’t about not caring. Though I knew neither Kieran nor Casteel would be all that torn up, even though I also knew seeing to the end of so many Ascended wouldn’t be a walk in the park for them. It may not darken their souls, but committing mass annihilation—something that would’ve occurred if Atlantia hadn’t retreated during the War of Two Kings and instead pushed forward—would sure as fuck leave some shadows behind.