Page 278 of A Flame of the Phoenix

“Which you could just give to me and stay here. You’re a liability.”

“You just can’t stand the thought of help.”

Zaiana cut her with a look. It was jarring to meet those gold eyes so close and not be hunting or fighting the heir. The impulse was still there—Faythe didn’t make it easy to subdue the itch for her throat.

“Let’s go,” Zaiana grunted, not waiting or accounting for Faythe as she slipped stealthily down the dark mountain edges.

Within the cavernous labyrinth, Zaiana breathed steady to calm her irritating suffocation at being back here.

To her credit, Faythe kept pace and remained as vigilant as her now they were within tight enemy confines. These jagged stone walls had raised her and sharpened her. This place had been her home for many centuries, but she could watch it crumble to the ground and feel nothing but joy warming her cold, black heart.

“The smell isn’t pleasant,” Faythe muttered under her breath.

Zaiana had learned to naturally shallow her breaths under here, avoiding the pungent mix of blood and despair as much as possible. The passages were always the worst.

They made it to the open cave where training would usually take place. Zaiana slipped in just to catch a glimpse over the edge, down into the pit. Young dark fae lined uniformly across the whole floor. She’d never seen them gathered like this. These darklings weren’t nearly old enough to be considered for army positions, but she spied four of the masters walking up and down the lines, examining them as if they were a legion.

Nephra wasn’t one of them. She stood, poised and arrogant, observing from one of the other balconies.

“What are they doing?”

Faythe speaking to her mind shocked her enough to make her spin, gripping her by the throat and curving them out of the balcony. Her gold eyes flew wide with anger, and Zaiana released her immediately.

“Don’t do that!” Zaiana hissed under her breath.

“Do what!” Faythe whisper-shouted back.

“Infiltrate my mind!”

“Would you rather I announce our arrival to those very welcoming dark fae down there?”

Though it was a slight overreaction on her part, Zaiana hated her own voice in her head, never mind the sudden intrusion of another’s.

“Just stay out of my head,” Zaiana grumbled, leading them away from the pit.

She had a few other places to spy for Edith if she scuttled off to these mountains. They checked the dorms and other higher up sleeping quarters. Nikalias had relayed that Edith claimed to have led in Mordecai’s armies, and that was a high status to reach for her age description. Zaiana wasn’t truly hopeful to find her here. This was where the weak became strong, or they died.She didn’t tell that to Faythe when Zaiana had an ulterior motive to come here anyway. The masters would die for killing Acelin, Kellias, Drya, and Selain.

She’d spent all their years together reminding them they were not friends. Not family. They were a duty to each other, and nothing more. Even then, she knew in a buried piece of herself that wasn’t true. In their last moments, she hoped they’d known too.

All she had to offer their loyal souls was vengeance, and it would be hers.

“She’s not here,” Zaiana said, knowing it was pointless to venture anymore even though they’d only checked a small fraction of the labyrinth carved under these barren mountains.

“There has to be more we can check. She could be in a meeting, or terrorizing children, or maybe your dear father is here and they’re plotting your demise as we speak.”

“Don’t call him that,” she warned.

“Denying your blood doesn’t make you any less a Vesaria.”

Everything in Zaiana recoiled at the name. It didn’t belong to her. She was Zaiana Silverfair. Even though she despised that name too. When the war was over, she would shed both. What use was a family name to her anyway?

“You really are insufferable company,” Zaiana said, brushing past her and leading them down a narrow spiral staircase.

With Faythe’s distracting words, her sharp focus had split, and because of that she didn’t detect the body ascending the stairs until she had him pinned to the wall, with her dagger drawing a line of black blood on his throat.

“Zai-Zaiana,” he stuttered, recognizing her immediately.

She didn’t have the time nor the patience to wager on his ability to stay silent. Her blade cut deep and swift before she pushed the body to avoid getting blood on her.

---