“Unfortunately, no.” Kieran cracked the thick book open. “Those things that were outside? I figured you had a lot of questions about them.”

“Who wouldn’t?” Casteel responded, handing Jasper a glass. “If that was the first time they saw one of them?”

“Exactly.” I watched Kieran flip through the pages.

“Well, I figured it was best that I grab this,” Kieran said. “It’s an old textbook, centering around the history of Atlantia—the gods and their children.”

“Oh.” I leaned over, my interest more than piqued, but the moment I saw one of the pages, I sighed. “It’s in a different language.”

“It’s in old Atlantian—the Primal language of the gods.” Casteel sat on the arm of the settee. “I can barely read that now.”

Jasper snorted. “Not surprised to hear that.”

One side of Casteel’s lips tipped up as he took a drink. “I’m hoping this book you kept for some reason tells us exactly how the Gyrms were here, in our realm, and why they were after Poppy.”

Our realm? Why did that sound familiar to me?

“He kept all of his old schoolbooks,” Jasper explained. “Well, his mother did. They’re in one of the rooms in the back.”

I had yet to meet Kirha and really hoped I got to soon. I wanted to thank her for the clothing. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine.” Jasper smiled, and the rough lines of his face softened. “Slept through the whole damn thing.”

My brows rose. “Really?”

He nodded. “She’s always been a heavy sleeper, but with the babe on the way, she could sleep through the gods waking.”

“Here it is,” Kieran announced, lowering the book to his knees as he looked over at Casteel. “Did you see them without the mask?”

“That I did,” he drawled. “At first, I thought my vision had gone out on me, and then I heard my father say something like, ‘What the fuck?’ and I knew it wasn’t just me.”

I got momentarily distracted by picturing the tall and ominous figure that was his father saying that. Kieran tapped on the page, and I looked down, my stomach hollowing as I saw an ink sketch of one of the creatures we’d seen outside. It was extremely realistic—the head, the thin slits for eyes, and then nothing but smooth skin. Then again, there wasn’t much for this artist to capture beyond a male body’s general, well-muscled shape.

“How do they breathe?” I asked again because that seemed like a fairly important question.

Casteel’s lips twitched as Kieran’s eyes closed. “If it was a Gyrm?” Jasper spoke, rising from the chair to look down at the drawing. “They don’t need to breathe because they are not alive.”

Confusion drew my brows together. “How is that possible? How can something walk around and interact with people and not be alive?”

“One could ask the same question about the Craven,” Casteel said. “They react to those around them. They have mouths, and their bodies go through the motions of breathing. They hunger.” He lowered his glass to his knee. “But do you think they live? Truly?”