“I am your father,” he roared. “I may have given you life, but I can also give you death.”

Amaya’s hissing got stronger in my head. Whether that meant she was finding it harder to maintain the shield or she was simply getting more pissed off, I couldn’t say. But the sooner this attack ended, the better for us both.

“My death will hardly help regain control of the two remaining keys,” I countered, still managing to keep my voice even. “Besides, I’ve already been dead. It holds no fear for me.”

The words were barely out of my mouth when the attack stopped with a suddenness that had me blinking. There was a moment of silence before he said, “You died?”

A hint of amusement had replaced the anger, and I frowned. What in the hell was funny about me dying?

“You didn’t feel it?” Amaya was beginning to quiver in my hands, which generally meant she was running low in resources and would soon start leeching mine. And while that was something I couldn’t afford, given that I wasn’t exactly at the top of my game after the last few days, there was no way in hell I was about to ask her to drop the shield. Not until I knew the reason behind my father’s sudden mood switch. “I thought the blood bond meant you could feel my presence no matter where I was?”

“When you wear flesh, yes,” he replied. “But place yourself in death’s hands, and it is a different matter entirely.”

“Why? I mean, wouldn’t me dying break any sort of connection? That in itself should tell you something happened.”

“It is not that simple.”

“It never is.”

His amusement got stronger, but it didn’t make me feel any safer. Quite the opposite, in fact.

“If you had remained on death’s plane, then, yes, I would have sensed it. But you chose to come back.”

“Which clarifies nothing, given the gray fields themselves are the realm of death.” And the Raziq certainly had no trouble finding me whenever I stepped onto the fields.

“Stepping onto them as an Aedh is very different from stepping on them as a soul ready to move on.”

Which I would never be able to do again, thanks to Azriel’s actions. Bitterness stabbed through me – bitterness and anger and a splintered sense of loss. I swallowed heavily and somehow said, “So is the fact I basically died the reason why the device in my heart hasn’t summoned the Raziq?”

“Yes. As I told you previously, only death could stop it.”

Which only meant I was free from the pain of the device, not from the Raziq themselves.

Unfortunately.

“And is that the reason you seem to find my death so amusing?”

“It was not so much your death, but the mere fact that you succeeded in short-circuiting Malin’s plans.”

Malin was the head of the Raziq, and my father’s former lover. She was also a woman scorned, as my father had apparently refused to give her the child she’d wanted, deciding instead to seek out and impregnate my mother. It was a combination that made her less than benevolent when it came to me and, in part, the reason behind my latest kidnapping. What she’d actually done to me during that time I couldn’t say, because she’d erased all memory of it.

Although given that she’d told me my father would more than likely kill me if he ever found out about it, I’m guessing it was something pretty bad. Something that perhaps tied me to her just as much as my father.

“I hadn’t exactly planned to die, you know.”

“Humanity rarely does. It is one of their greatest failings.”

Strength fade, Amaya said, annoyance heavy in her mental tones. She didn’t like having to admit to any sort of failing. Must draw —

No, I cut in. Drop the shield.

And I mentally crossed my fingers that my father hadn’t been waiting for that very event.

The faint lilac haze around me flickered, then died, and Amaya’s blade became shadowed once more. I tensed but, despite my fears, my father didn’t immediately attack.

Not that I relaxed any. “It’s a failing also shared by the Aedh. I hardly think Lucian had planned to die so soon.”

“Perhaps not, but he was aware of its approach, as you well know.”

He paused, and that vague sense of amusement vanished. My grip on Amaya tightened so abruptly it was a wonder my knuckles weren’t glowing.

“Lucian’s plans are no excuse for you having lost the second key, however.”

“No, because you own some of that blame.” My voice was curt, which was perhaps unwise given the state of both my strength and Amaya’s. “You not only knew he was fucking the sorceress Lauren, but also that he was working with the sorcerer who stole the first key. You didn’t tell me the first fact until after I’d questioned you about her, and you didn’t even bother mentioning the second.”

“Because it should not have been relevant. No human should have been able to access the fields, let alone the gates.”

“But he had Lucian’s help, and he’s a very powerful dark sorcerer.”

“Lucian could not attain full energy form, and therefore should not have been able to step onto the fields.”

“So how the hell did the sorcerer get to the gates with the first key if he didn’t have Lucian’s help?”

His anger swirled around me, fierce and frightening, but this time, its force was not aimed at me. And it had a rather frustrated edge to it.

“That I do not know.”

And it killed him to admit it – a situation that cheered me up no end. “We think the sorcerer accessed the fields via stone portals formed by both black and Aedh magic —”

“While that is more than possible,” my father interrupted, “he should not have been able to see the light and dark paths, let alone access them.”

“Unless he had Lucian’s help.”

“Even Lucian would not have been so foolish as to direct a human to their location. Not when he had his own plans for them.”

“Lucian’s plans had nothing to do with the gates. He not only wanted revenge on the Raziq, who’d made him less than he was, but to turn back time and once again become full Aedh.”

An aim that seemed right up there with pigs flying, and yet Lucian had totally believed it was possible.

“Only the strongest magic raised on the strongest ley-line intersection could feasibly allow a human to achieve something like that.”

I frowned at his slight emphasis on the word “human.” “Meaning Aedh are capable of transcending time?”

“Of course.” Amusement filtered through his words again. “How do you think Lucian came to spend so much time here on Earth? He was not only stripped of his ability to become full Aedh, but he was relegated to suffering eons of human development.”

“And all it did was not only give him plenty of time to plan his revenge, but plenty of time to find a ley line strong enough for him – and his sorcerer buddy – to place their portal.”

And it was so well protected we’d yet to find the damn thing. According to Ilianna, the sorcerer had to be using a containment spell to keep us from sensing it, but surely the amount of power he’d need to suck from the intersection just to change form – let alone access the fields – would not be so easily restrained…

I added, “I’m gathering Lucian would have been able to access the fields that way?”

“Certainly. But both he and this sorcerer would have to alter the composition of their bodies to that of energy, if only temporarily. Souls are the only other entity outside Aedh and reapers who can walk the fields, and only then with the help of a guide.”

“What about the temples?”

“What about them?”

I bit back my impatience. I wasn’t about to rock the boat too much when my father was being helpful. Or as helpful as he was ever likely to get.

Although it did seem somewhat surreal to be having such a calm and collected conversation with him after his initial entrance. “Would either Lucian or the sorcerer have been able to access the temples in their altered forms?”

“Lucian could have, as he was my chrání. The sorcerer has no need to enter the temples. The gates are within the grounds that surround the temples, not in the temples themselves.”

A chrání, in Aedh speak, basically meant student or protégé. “That doesn’t actually answer my question.”

Yet again his amusement touched the air. While it was nice that he was in such a jovial mood, I suspected it wouldn’t take much to bring back his wrath.

He said, “Only those of Aedh blood can enter sacred temples.”

Meaning the gates weren’t considered sacred? Why not? “So I could enter them, if I needed to?”

His energy swirled around me, contemplative in its feel. I wasn’t entirely sure why, given he could access my thoughts and would have to know where this was heading.

And yet, his next question suggested the exact opposite. “Why might you wish to access the temples?”

“Lucian was a devious bastard who trusted no one.” And rightly so, given it was my father who’d betrayed him to the Raziq in the first place. “Not only would he have kept information about the sorcerer’s identity, but he would have kept it somewhere not even the sorcerer could access.”

“Being Aedh does not automatically give you access to the temples – indeed, only those initiated into the order can move freely within the inner realm of the temples.”

“Which is a roundabout way of saying I’ll need your help?” And it would come at a price, of that I had no doubt. Still, it was worth reminding him exactly what was at risk. Hell, he might even surprise me and offer help without threats or strings.

And tomorrow, those damn pigs will fly.

“You will need help to access the temples, yes, but I will not be able to provide it. The Raziq have traps waiting around them.” Contempt darkened his tone as he added, “They hope to ensnare me should I be foolish enough to go near.”