Page 164 of A Flame of the Phoenix

“They’ll punish you when they find out.”

Marlowe said nothing at that. Instead she shifted to her knees, facing him fully. She was so delicate in her human beauty it was hard to imagine the depth of her troubles. How someone so kind and hopeful could be tormented with such vicious visions.

“It was Faythe who suggested you come here, wasn’t it?”

Tarly nodded. Faythe hadn’t asked him to, but she’d placed the option into his hands to abandon course with Nerida and seek his own salvation, to offer what he could to the war efforts instead.

“She told me where the Light Temple Ruin is—I just need to find a moment to try to retrieve it.”

“Izaiah knows too.”

That sparked hope in his mind. If the Galentithe brother was still on Faythe’s side, all he had to do was get him to retrieve it while he had free rein of the castle. Then Tarly could make his escape. Until Tarly realized, with a drop of uncertainty about Izaiah’s loyalty…

“Why hasn’t he fled with it himself?”

Marlowe’s face pinched. “He’s trying to use the power within for himself.”

Now he really was concerned about Izaiah’s allegiance. He was already relaying all they’d spoken of earlier, which would be condemning if he took it to Dakodas.

“I don’t trust him,” Tarly said.

“Marlowe?” Jakon interrupted them, pushing himself up. Tarly could see his accusing frown through the dark at finding his wife all the way over here.

“We couldn’t sleep, and you were out cold,” Marlowe teased.

She went to him, and they talked quietly to themselves. Jakon draped their blanket around her and hugged her to him. Tarly had to look away, settling back down.

He couldn’t shake the tension Marlowe had left in her wake.

Tarly stayed awake, reeling over how they would all escape. Faythe was right—they were all threads of fate, and somehow, he knew they were important.

He wouldn’t be of any use if he wasn’t well and rested, so he forced his eyes to close. In the confines of his mind, he found peace, pretending for a while that no matter where he went, it would lead him back to Nerida one way or another, and he couldn’t wait for her to reprimand him for leaving.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Izaiah

Izaiah’s whole body ached from the many practices with the ruin so far, but he’d be damned if he let it affect how good he looked sauntering down a hall. Especially when he felt a particular presence nearby.

Tynan appeared around the bend ahead, walking toward him. Izaiah wore his usual devious side-smile, which triggered Tynan’s familiar glower. He was beginning to enjoy the natural harmony of this tense greeting.

“Another suicide attempt today?” Tynan muttered under his breath when they stopped beside each other.

Izaiah hummed, mirroring Tynan’s cross-armed stance. “It’s likely, yes.”

Tynan cast his eyes up as if in a plea for sanity. “At least let me have breakfast first.”

“Meet me in the study in an hour. We can fit in some literacy lessons too.”

Izaiah made to leave, but Tynan caught his wrist. It was bold when accompanied with the heated stare that drifted to his lips.

When he heard shuffling and thumping down the hall, Izaiah retrieved a dagger, pushing Tynan to the wall. The dark fae was caught unawares, slamming into it with a grunt and staring with wide, pissed-off eyes.

“Can’t give anyone the wrong impression,” Izaiah said, scratching the point of the dagger under his chin while delighting in Tynan’s vulnerability under his blade.

When the person arrived within view, Izaiah stole a glance. Who he saw slackened his pressure against Tynan immediately. The dark fae pushed him off, and Izaiah caught his own stumble, too stunned and confused to care as he righted himself and faced down the hall.

“I can’t come up with a single good reason as to why you might be here,” Izaiah said.

---