Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

J onah rises slowly to his feet.

There's a part of me that wants to stand and face him, to downplay what I did to the book and all its unknown consequences.

But I can't.

If I believe that my father once loved my mother, then he imprisoned the love of his life because of the danger she carried: me .

He asked me if I had ever seen true darkness, and he implied that true darkness was me.

Even Halle said I shouldn't exist.

And Emil brought me here… for what? Protection? Imprisonment? Or perhaps for some other purpose that has yet to reveal itself.

So I stay exactly where I am, my knees drawn to my chest, a storm of uncertainty within me as Jonah slowly circles the campfire and steps toward me.

I know Anarchy and Riot well enough to believe that at the first hint of danger to me, they'll spring into action. Rumble and Strife will attack Jonah from behind, and Lucian—well, I'm certain he will be conflicted because Jonah was the only person who looked out for him while he was growing up.

But I also know that Jonah could turn them all to ash in a blink.

"Don't," I whisper to them. "Don't react. If there's a fight, then it's mine."

"There will not be a fight." Jonah lowers himself into a kneeling position in front of me, somehow managing to squeeze between me and the campfire. But of course, he's a fire jotunn, so the flames won't worry him.

His voice is quiet as he says, "I want to tell you about the first time I met your mother."

I'm cautious. "Okay?"

"My people, the jotnar, fought and died in the final battle against the primordial deity, Typhon. I was only a child at the time—too young to fight—which is why I survived."

I rapidly recall what my mother told me about the old gods and the jotnar. Many perished in the old wars against the Titans. She mentioned Typhon several times and there was a warning in her voice because even in death, his bones were considered dangerous.

"I was raised in the north by the Valkyrie," Jonah continues. "They chose to take me in, even though I was not one of them," Jonah says. "When I was old enough, I repaid them for their kindness by protecting them and watching over their followers: the humans called ‘Einherjar'."

It isn't a total surprise to me that Jonah was raised by the Valkyrie. Lucian mentioned it to me when we were talking about learning to fly. It was Jonah who helped Lucian understand how to use his wings, teaching Lucian in the same way Jonah had observed the Valkyrie teaching their young.

"When the Valkyrie Queen was forced into a deadly war, I fought beside her," Jonah says. "But the devastation to her race was horrific. I lost my family for a second time and after that, my purpose was gone."

He falls silent, and I give him the space to remain quiet for as long as he wants, the fire crackling softly nearby and my pack unmoving around us.

Jonah finally clears his throat. "About five hundred years ago, I was wandering across the forests and mountains of what is now known as the Cascade Range east of Portland. I found myself within a ring of mountains to which I had never been before. I stumbled through a wilderness of overgrown foliage that appeared to have claimed what might once have been a great city. It was all crumbling stone by then. In the middle of that wilderness was a single intact building: a cottage very much like that one."

He inclines his head at the structure that now sits on my right before he turns in the other direction toward the orchard on my left. "Right beside the cottage was an apple orchard, much like that one."

I clamp my arms closer to my legs, unnerved by the existence of these structures outside of my dreams.

"Galeia stood in the open doorway of the cottage holding a broom, of all things," Jonah says. "She took one look at me, held out the broom, and told me to sweep."

A smile plays around his mouth. "I asked her where I should sweep and she told me—" He stops, swallows visibly, and I'm shocked when his eyes fill with tears. "She told me to sweep wherever the pain needed cleaning out."

He takes a deep, shaking breath. "She had a way of knowing what to say."

Suddenly, I'm hanging on to Jonah's every word, afraid of asking him to tell me more about what she was like, what her dreams were, and who she was.

Somehow, he seems to know that's what I need. Maybe it's the way I'm leaning forward or the desperation that I can't keep from my face.

"She had an infectious smile," he says. "And a wicked sense of humor. And she could take down an opponent in less time than I could transform into my full jotunn form. And then, somehow, she'd make friends with them."

He gives a laugh. "Fuck, I could never figure out how she did that. She gathered people around her. Sometimes, I thought that Halle and James followed her and not the other way around. She was her name, Veda. Galeia means new life . Did you know that?"

I nod. When we were on the island, Ryuji, the dragon master, told me the meaning of my mother's name. As he said, it's a confusing name for a dark creature.

"Wherever she went, a sparkling darkness seemed to follow her." Jonah shakes his head. "By the dark saints, she was loved."

My mother's long-ago voice echoes in my memories, a constant reminder of the message she gave me.

We were loved.

"Why are you telling me this now?" I ask, my voice strained as I fight the burn of tears in my eyes.

Fuck, I yearn for my anger and rage to surge again. I hate how much my sadness is overwhelming me right now.

"Because you need to know how badly she wanted you to live." Jonah's eyes are even duller now. "In the first few months of her pregnancy, she collapsed. Twice. Her heart stopped entirely. We couldn't revive her. We thought we'd lost her until her heart started beating again all on its own. After the second time, we searched for answers."

His focus shifts to the book and my shoulders slump as I mentally follow what must have been the path of their reasoning at the time.

"You thought the book could help her," I say.

"Halle was adamant that it couldn't. But even though she was its custodian, she had never dared to read it, so she couldn't say for sure.

"She refused to open it. She and James argued like they'd never argued before. He, and your father, were convinced that because Galeia's heart had been created from dark metal, the book would tell us how to save her. When Halle wouldn't hand it over, James stole it."

I consider my clasped hands where they rest in my lap and the tips of the dark metal that will protrude further from my fingertips if I call on it.

If I'd been in the same position as them, I wonder if I would have stolen the book, too.

When I look up, Jonah says, "James has never regretted anything more than the moment he handed the book to your father."

I give a single nod, the only acknowledgment I'm capable of giving.

When I first met James, I needed his help so I could get close to my father—or, rather, to get close to the usurper I thought had killed my father. While working toward that goal, I'd helped get James's son, Elijah, away from my father.

Elijah had been my father's leverage over James.

By helping his son, I gave James his freedom.

Since then, I found out that James was the reason my father came into possession of the book. And now, it seems the context of that choice is far more complicated than I first believed.

"Where is James now?" I ask the very question that Halle envisaged I might ask.

Without hesitation, Jonah replies, "He's with Elijah's mother."

His reply doesn't tell me anything since I don't know who Elijah's mother is or where she could be.

My forehead creases as I consider my next question. "And is Elijah's mother with Elijah?"

I have an idea where Elijah might be, so the answer could give me a clue.

Jonah shakes his head. "To keep their son safe, they've given him over to the care of a group of extremely powerful supernaturals." Jonah grimaces. "The kind of supernaturals who have no hesitation tearing dark creatures like your father apart. Elijah is safe with them."

It isn't lost on me that if those supernaturals would tear my father apart, then they may not feel very kind toward me, either.

I didn't see what happened to Elijah after the fight on the train. I manipulated events so that the keeper would take him to safety while I continued on to finally meet my father.

But I do remember one thing.

"St. Michael Cemetery," I murmur, recalling the place where Jonah told the keeper to take Elijah to safety.

Jonah gives me a grim smile. "No dark creature will set foot near there."

I file this information away in case I need it.

Focusing on Elijah for a few moments has helped to pull me out of the dark pit I was descending into.

Freeing that boy from my father's clutches has been one of my few successes since I escaped my cage.

I don't push Jonah for more information about James's whereabouts, instead asking him the more pressing question. "What about you, Jonah? It looks like you're stuck here with me, at least in the short term, so I need to know: where do you stand?"

Assuming he will tell me the truth.