I went to the fireplace and picked up the thigh sheath. Relieved to find the supple leather dry, I asked, “Have you seen my dagger?”

“The one fashioned from wolven bone?”

I cringed. “Yes, that one.”

“I have not.”

Feeling a bit contrite and insensitive, I turned to him. “About the…the handle. I have no idea how that came into creation or when. It was given to me as a gift—”

“I know,” he interrupted. “Unless you are the one who carved it from the bones of a wolven, you don’t need to apologize. I imagine it was created shortly after the War of Two Kings. Many of my kind fell during the battles, and not all the bodies could be retrieved.”

I wanted to apologize again, especially when I thought about how families hadn’t had the chance to honor their loved ones with whatever burial practices they observed. I resisted the urge to comment as I slipped the bent meat knife into the sheath, half expecting Kieran to say something, but all he did was smile faintly when I glanced at him.

“Ready?” he asked. When I nodded, he peeled away from the wall. “Lead the way.”

I did just that, and it gave me great satisfaction to do so. Opening the door, I stepped outside and headed down the walkway. Why did it never feel nearly as cold when it snowed?

A better question resurfaced as I opened the door to the stairwell. “Are all Atlantians’ eyes a golden shade?”

“That’s an incredibly random question,” he said, catching the door before it swung shut in his face. “But, yes, most Atlantians have some shade of gold in their eyes. Only those of the elemental bloodline have pure golden eyes.”

I almost missed a step. “Elemental bloodline?” I asked, looking over my shoulder.

“Not all Atlantians are the same,” he remarked. “Did your history books leave that out?”

“Yes,” I grumbled, facing forward. The texts mentioned the wolven as being a part of Atlantia, but nothing had ever suggested there were different…bloodlines. “What is the elemental bloodline?”

“Those whose blood is purely Atlantian and can be traced back to the earliest known Atlantians,” he answered. “Not descendants by blood but by creation.”

“They were created by other…Atlantians?”

“Yes, by the deities, the children of the gods.”

“Really?” I said doubtfully. “Deities?”

“Really.”

My brows knitted as we reached the landing. I wasn’t sure if I believed that, but what did I know? I looked back at him. “Are any of them still in Atlantia?”

“If there were, Cas would not be our Prince.” A muscle flexed in Kieran’s jaw. “The last of their line was gone by the end of the war.”

“What does that mean? That Casteel wouldn’t be the Prince?”

“They were deities, Penellaphe. The ones who created the elemental Atlantians. A drop of their blood is a drop from the gods. They would usurp any bloodline that sat on the throne.”

“All because they can link their blood back to these…deities?”

“They ruled Atlantia since the dawn of time, up until the last of them died. They weren’t just a bloodline,” he said. “They were Atlantia.”

Okay, then. “And Casteel is of the elemental line?”

“He is.”

Well, if anyone would somehow be connected to deities and gods, it would be him. It explained his arrogance and high-handed attitude. “So, there are others who live in Atlantia? Besides the wolven?”

“There are,” he said, surprising me. I half expected him to deem the information confidential. “Those with mortal blood, usually first or second-generation with one Atlantian and one mortal parent.”

Those had been the half-Atlantians Casteel had spoken of the night prior.

“Very rarely does a third-generation or more removed have any discernible Atlantian blood or traits. But even though they have mortal lifespans, they aren’t often plagued by illnesses or disease.”

“Since their blood can feed one of an elemental line and be used to make vamprys, they don’t need blood after their Culling, do they?” I asked, realizing I hadn’t talked with Casteel about that part.

Kieran raised an eyebrow. “No. They do not need blood.”

That was a relief, although Casteel’s blood tasted nothing like I’d ever imagined. “Do those of the elemental line need food?” I’d seen Casteel eat. I’d actually seen the Ascended eat. “Do vamprys?”

“Those of the elemental line can go long periods without food but doing so requires them to take blood more often. Vamprys can eat, but they don’t need to. Food does nothing to slake their bloodlust.”

I stopped in the stairwell. “The ones who are part mortal…those are the ones with eyes that are hazel but more gold?”

“You’d be correct in your assumption.”

“Then why are mine green? Neither of my parents had hazel eyes,” I told him. “My mother could’ve had golden brown, but I’m pretty sure her eyes were just brown.”

He glanced at the door. “If your mother or father had Atlantian blood in them, that doesn’t mean they were purely Atlantian. They could’ve been second-generation and your memory of their eye color faulty.”

I frowned. “I remember the color of their eyes.”

He glanced down at me. “It’s also possible that neither of them were your birth parents.”

I almost tripped again. “Did they just find me in a field or something and decide to keep me?”

“Mortals often do inexplicable and strange things, Penellaphe.”

“Whatever.” A lot of things seemed impossible that I was working to accept. Both of my parents not actually being my blooded parents wasn’t one of them. “Are there more…bloodlines?”

“There are.”

I waited while he stared at me. “Are you going to tell me what they are?”

Amusement crept into his wintry eyes. “There were many bloodlines at one time. However, most have either died off naturally or were lost in the war. The changelings are another bloodline, although their numbers have significantly dwindled.”

“Changelings?” I repeated slowly, having never heard the word before.

“Most are of two worlds, able to shift their forms.”

“Like a wolven?”

“Yes. Some.” His gaze swiveled to the door again, and his eyes narrowed. “Many believe they are distant cousins of the wolven, the offspring of a deity and a wolven.”

“What kind of forms can they shift into?” I asked, thinking of one of the stories Ian had sent, the one about the water folk. I almost asked if they could shift into part fish, but that was too ridiculous for me to even utter.

“Many different forms. But that will have to wait. He pressed a finger to my lips when I opened my mouth. “One second.”

I frowned, but he moved his hand, brushing past me to open the door. I followed on his heels. When he came to a sudden stop, I almost walked right into his back.

“Kieran.” The familiar, raspy voice caused my heart to lurch, even though I knew it wasn’t Vikter. It was Alastir. “I’ve been wondering where you were today. I expected to see you with Casteel.”

“I’ve been busy,” Kieran answered. “Is Cas back already?”

“He’s still with Elijah, speaking about…about the upcoming move.” There was a pause as I peeked around Kieran. Alastir’s hair was pulled back in a knot at the nape of his neck. Without the cloak, I saw that he wasn’t without weapons. A dagger was strapped to one thigh, and a golden-trimmed scabbard held a sword on his opposite hip. Alastir also wasn’t alone.

A man with auburn waves and the same vivid gold eyes as Casteel was with him. An elemental Atlantian, I now knew. His gaze slid from the wolven to where I stood, mostly hidden behind Kieran. One side of his lips tipped up.

Kieran moved to the side, blocking my view of the elemental.

“As I’m sure you know, there are concerns,” Alastir continued.

“Concerns from Elijah or you?” Kieran asked.

“Concerns from all,” Alastir answered. “It’s a sizable group to move and keep healthy and whole during the trip. And once there...”

My mind rapidly turned that over. Were the people who lived in New Haven making the move to Atlantia? Even the Descenters, who were of no Atlantian descent? I thought the concerns had a lot to do with their limited land. But why were they going there now?

Kieran crossed his arms. “It needs to be done.”

“Does it?” came the quiet reply from Alastir.

“I would think you of all people would know that it does,” Kieran said as I silently stepped farther to the side. “To do nothing is cruel.”

Alastir’s features were somber as he said, “I agree. Doing nothing is cruel. My hesitation doesn’t come from a place of apathy. Hell, you know I’ve spent the better part of my life locating our people and their offspring trapped in Solis and bringing them home.” Alastir placed his hand on Kieran’s shoulder. “My hesitation comes from a place of empathy. I hope you and Casteel realize that.”

“We do.” Kieran clamped his hand over the older wolven’s forearm. “It’s just a complicated situation.”

“That it is.” Alastir turned his head to where I stood. “But not nearly as complicated as this.”

Kieran started to block me once more, and I’d had it with the ridiculousness. “He can see me standing behind you,” I said. “You’re a giant oaf, but not that giant of an oaf.”

A wide smile broke out across Alastir’s face, and the elemental behind him laughed.

Kieran sighed.

“I was hoping we’d get a chance to cross paths again without the Prince rushing you off.” The wolven’s smile tightened. “He does seem quite taken with you.”