Page 14 of A Legacy of Storms and Starlight

“Look at you, accepting your heritage,” he said, finally turning to face her. He’d attempted to tame his unruly hair and she wondered if he’d cut it short around his ears on purpose. So that people saw their roundness, their humanness.

She wanted to see what he really looked like. What else had he changed about his appearance? “I’m not… I just, need to understand it,” she said instead. It was the truth. She was used to being able to find things out for herself, to read, to learn, to practice, even if her knowledge was limited. Relying on information from someone else made her uneasy, but Arnir had made sure all knowledge of the Fae had been destroyed. Holding any possessions related to the Fae, books or any other objects would see you in his prison, too. All were forbidden to speak of them. She didn’t mention that Kara had smuggled Fae novels and leant them to Zylah whenever she could.

“We need to get going. If you were meant for the gallows, Arnir’s men won’t stop until you’re dead.”

And there it was, the thought that Zylah had somehow managed to cast aside since the night before. She was an escaped convict who’d killed the prince, and no amount of learning anything would ever change that.

Chapter Seven

They evanesced for hours. When Zylah offered to give Holt a rest, he quizzed her on her knowledge of the Falstin forest that bordered Virian. She had no knowledge of either, and gods did it irritate her.

It was another item she tucked away for later, for when they made it to Virian and she could find a library to learn as much as possible of the geography of the world. Already she was beginning to realise how little she knew of it, and if she was to spend her life running, she had a great deal of learning to do. She was in no hurry to come back to the Falstin forest any time soon, of that she was certain.

“So you need to know what a place looks like to evanesce to it?” she asked as they stopped for Holt to catch his breath. It was another observation she held onto—that he had a limit to his power, and it explained the way she’d felt when she’d evanesced so many times consecutively after leaving the gallows. The ache in her back hadn’t quite gone away, and she wondered now if it ever would.

Holt surveyed the forest, looking and listening, and Zylah did the same, taking in the way the sunlight filtered through the trees, how the snow thinned in patches, the scent of disturbed earth and fir needles. There were plants everywhere, and she wished she had her notebook with her, but her memory would have to do. Gods, it was cold.

He finally turned to face her. “You need to know what a place looks like, yes. For shorter distances, just having a visual is enough.”

“And where do we go, when we’re evanescing?”Tree fern, fresh shoots, fascinating.Zylah investigated every new plant she came across.

Holt had paused to look at her. “The space between worlds.”

Zylah felt another pair of eyes on her, but when she looked through the trees, she saw nothing but shadows. Every forest had sprites of its own, her father had always taught her. Every patch of water, every stretch of marsh. All things in nature had a spirit, and they were to be treated with respect. “Between… worlds?” she asked, turning her attention back to Holt. He was about a second away from folding his arms across his chest, she thought, one eyebrow raised as he watched her.

“The aether,” Holt replied, folding his arms across his chest, the muscles in his arms pushing against his coat sleeves.

Called it.

Zylah ran her fingers through the tree ferns, shaking off the last of the snow that still dusted them. “I understand the concept of aether. But are there truly other worlds out there?”

“There are many.” His breath clouded in front of him as he spoke, and again she thought of how wild he seemed, as if he were half animal. It wasn’t just the way he moved, but how he held himself when he was still. As if that power she’d sensed the day before seemed to simmer beneath his skin.

“So it works exactly the same in reverse, with the items,” Zylah mused. “You said you need to know where a thing is to summon it.”

“I saidit helpsif I know where it is.” He’d turned away from her, looking out into the forest again, listening.

That explained the boots, and the water canister, and the cloak, but… “How did you get the hot water in the bath then?”

Holt still didn’t face her, just observed the forest quietly. He had to be some kind of hunter. Maybe a mercenary. He had enough muscle for someone to hire it anyway.

“From the springs,” he said, in answer to her question.

That was…impressive, but Zylah wasn’t about to confess as much. “Can all Fae do this?”

“No.” His voice had become even deeper during their conversation, and she stifled a laugh as she realised it was with irritation.

An owl hooted somewhere nearby.Isn’t it too early for owls?Zylah had no idea. She’d lost all track of time. The Goddess Pallia was always depicted with an owl, and although Zylah never truly believed in the deities she’d been taught at school, it was Pallia she whispered to when she was alone. She was the Goddess of Wisdom and Knowledge, and that always appealed to Zylah. Never mind that she was also the Goddess of War and Heroism. And of Sacrifice, although Zylah supposed she already knew a little of that.

“Ah, jupinus amataxus,” Zylah mused, reaching for a flower. Her fingers were freezing, but this find was worth the cold. “Fascinating. I’ve never seen it in the wild.”

“You are strange. You know that, don’t you?”

“Jupe for short. The flower can be used for sniffles and coughs. The leaves are highly poisonous. No odour, either. Here.” She waved the flower at him, and he took a step back. Zylah shrugged and shoved a handful into her apron out of habit.

“That explains the moss,” Holt said. “In your apron.”

Zylah rolled her eyes and held up four fingers. “Rule number four… no going through my things.”

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