Doran leaned back in his chair. “I still feel like you owe me something. Not much, I won’t be greedy. Just let me call you Ora and—”
“No. Levi, how much do you know about this Lord of yours?”
She had wondered this for a while. Naavah Ora knew her gods inside out, but Levi didn’t seem to know much at all besides his name—if the Lord really was his name, and she found that unlikely. It was far more likely that all her nightmares were about to come true at once, but it wouldn’t do to make assumptions. They had only needed Levi to be a warrior, not a devout priest. Maybe they hadn’t told him much when they’d trained him and had stuck to the basics. Maybe he knew nothing, but she had to hope he did.
“Not much,” Levi said. Her heart sank. “I only know that he’s the Lord of the dead. I think I overheard one of the Elders call him the Spirit King once.”
She frowned. This much, at least, was impossible. “There’s no such thing. Ithrean reigns supreme over the spirit realm. Dunhă is her home. She wouldn’t allow intruders or any other gods to share, and she’d never let someone take it from her.” Or so she hoped.
“I told you, I only heard one of the Elders say this once. It’s possible he was referring to something else.”
Or perhaps things had gone terribly wrong. Someone was corrupting the spirits, she couldn’t deny that. Her dream hadn’t shown her who was responsible, only that it was happening. But who would be capable of doing such a thing? Who was capable of taking Dunhă from Ithrean? She didn’t dare think it, but the possibility grew louder with everything they told her.
She sighed and sank into her chair. “Thank you, Levi. I’m not angry with you. I’m worried about all of us.” She felt deflated already, and their fight hadn’t started yet.
“I think it’s your turn to give us some answers,” Doran said. Her insides clenched. “What were you trying to do when those spirits attacked you?”
She had prepared for this, but it didn’t make answering any easier. “I’m a Suf’afir. It’s a rare gift that has been in my family for a long time. It skipped my parents, so my grandmother is the last Suf’afir before me. No new ones have been born to my clan that we’re aware of.”
“And you can open a portal into the spirit realm?” Levi asked. His eyes were wide. He looked more curious than terrified, unlike Doran, and Naavah Ora found it endearing. He was like a child who was learning about magic and its many possibilities for the first time.
“I can’t.” Naavah Ora focused on her plate. “Not yet. My grandmother always opened the portal for me. She was training me when you arrived. I felt something when I tried to open it in the forest; it was working, but I couldn’t secure the connection between our two worlds. I didn’t realise spirits had come through until after the gateway had collapsed. It shouldn’t have been possible for anything to slip through.”
“Ancients, why would you go into the world of the dead, on purpose, when they’re hostile?”
“Because we can learn from them. They aren’t normally hostile, but—” And this was it. The truth she was scared to admit. “Something is corrupting them. Something has invaded Ithrean’s home, and it’s slowly turning the spirit realm dark. I think that something is your lord, Levi.” She turned to Doran and gulped. “I think Levi’s Lord is the same evil as Ceallach an Eòlas.”
Levi looked surprised, but didn’t deny it. Doran, however, had gone pale under his tan. “Now hold on a minute—"
“I didn’t see the connection before, but what you’ve said about what your sacrifice would have meant… what that girl’s sacrifice meant… I’m certain. Your lord is corrupting Ithrean’s spirits and her home. Ceallach isn’t dead. He’s been preparing to move against—” She felt dizzy. “Ithrean help me, he’s been in Dunhă all these years. He disappeared from Ceidir because Ithrean trapped him. The Dread King of elven history, Levi’s Lord, the Ceidiree Blood King Ceallach an Eòlas—they’re the same person.”
“That doesn’t sound good.” Doran gripped his fork so hard she was worried he’d snap it. “Next time you try to open that portal, more of those corrupted spirits could come through, right? Can they corrupt this world?”
Naavah Ora took a deep breath. “That’s his goal, I believe. He’s already taken Dunhă for himself, and now he wants this world, too. But that doesn’t make any sense. Why isn’t Ithrean stopping him?”
Doran took a generous sip from his mug. “And you expect us to stop it? Your god of the dead couldn’t stop him. What are we supposed to do?”
This was the reaction she’d feared. She could do this on her own if she had to, but she wanted to do it together. Just once she wanted to have companions who wanted to help—not because she was the heir to her clan, but because it was the right thing to do. She wanted to call them friends. Just this once.
“I don’t expect you to do anything. You can’t enter the spirit realm, only a Suf’afir can.” But I’d like your help. Please. Say you’ll do this with me. Say you won’t leave. “Every clan has a Suf’afir—that’s how we split when our old home fell—and I hope that Doina’s clan has information I don’t have.”
“And if they don’t,” Doran said, “we’ll all die?”
“Not if I can help it.” Her voice wavered. She hoped they didn’t notice. “Ithrean guide me, I won’t let the spirits be taken.”
“Ithrean can’t help you, can she? She already couldn’t defend her home, how do you expect her to—” Doran shut up when she glared at him. “I’m sorry. It seems to me that Ithrean was overpowered by someone stronger than her. From what little I know about Ceallach, he’s the ultimate evil. There’s a reason Ceidir doesn’t want to talk about him. Why do you think Ithrean can help you?”
Because she has to. “Because there are some things we can’t accomplish on our own. Ithrean needs our help as much as I need hers. By ‘ours’ I mean the other Suf’afir. You can stay out of this if you’d prefer. I’d understand if you’d rather walk away.”
“No,” Levi said. “We’ll help. Won’t we?”
Doran shuffled in his seat. “We will?”
“If it’s true what you’re saying, then my lord is responsible for this. I’ve been trained to serve him for years. I feel guilty.”
“You haven’t done anything wrong, Ginger. You didn’t know what they were doing.”
“But it’s still my blood they needed.” Levi turned to Naavah Ora. “What would have happened if Doran had found us ten minutes later, or not at all?”
Naavah Ora swallowed. The what if’s and implications made her sick. “Then you would have died, and we’d be overrun by corrupted spirits right now. Ceallach an Eòlas—my Dread King and Doran’s Blood King—would be waging war on the living.”
Levi turned back to Doran, who looked as sick as she felt. “I didn’t know the details of my training, but I knew enough. I always knew that my blood was to serve our Lord. I want to help make this right.”