Page 48 of A Legacy of Storms and Starlight

His information about the uprising and the Black Veil had been vague, but she didn’t press him on that. The snippet about Arnir was what snagged her attention. “You’re going to kill him?” She’d suspected it but hadn’t known how much she wanted it to be true until that moment.

“You said you wanted to help. But you didn’t know what you were signing up for. Now you do. Does your offer still stand?” He leaned forwards and twirled the end of her braid around his fingers, tugging her closer again.

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

Raif answered her with a kiss, his lips sweet from the brin fruit and his tongue darting in to claim hers.Seven gods, against her best intentions, she took a step into him, her hands reaching up to his chest. She felt safe, in control, certain that if she wanted to stop, he would stop, and the thought eased her, made her sink into him a little more.

If Arnir was dead, everything would change. She wouldn’t have to move on. She wouldn’t have to run. She could just be this new version of herself, could just be Liss for the rest of her very long half Fae existence.

Someone cleared their throat from behind Raif, and Zylah pulled away.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Saphi said with a raised eyebrow. “I brought wax. And I’ll be taking notes.” She waved a notebook and pencil as Raif pushed himself off the workbench.

Raif shrugged, one hand casually in his pocket. “How long will you need?” he asked, blue eyes still a little glazed as he looked at Zylah.

Ravenous indeed. “A few hours. I’ll need to send word to Jilah,” she said, taking the wax from Saphi and placing it beside the rest of the ingredients.

“See you in a few then.” Raif winked, and he was out of the door before she could think of anything to snap back at him. She smoothed down her apron, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She could still taste the brin fruit on her lips where he’d kissed her, could still feel the heat of him pressed against her.

Saphi cleared her throat again. “Shall we?”

Zylah set to work. She’d already separated the amantias from the rest of the basket, but they’d need to be prepared soon. She made sure not to rush, to allow time for Saphi to observe and take notes, to pause for any questions. After Raif left, Saphi had explained that she knew a little of healing wounds without magic, but that there was always more to learn. Zylah suspected the Fae knew more than just a little.

“When is the festival?” she finally asked as she crushed leaves with the pestle and mortar. Water was boiling on the stove behind them, and she’d readied bowls with cloth for straining.

Saphi paused her slicing of the remaining amantias and set down her knife. “Three months from now.” Her eyes darted to Zylah’s glasses, still resting on the workbench, but she said nothing.

What was another few months?You can handle it. With Arnir gone, she could see her father again, her brother. She could see Kara. Her breath caught in her throat at the thought. What if they didn’t want to see her? What if they hated her for what she was? It didn’t matter, she decided, if she could see them one more time. Say a proper goodbye.

Arnir wasn’t a good man. She didn’t doubt he’d taken advantage of countless women over the years. And he was a terrible ruler. Not that she needed any more reasons to want him dead. It was her, or him.

She pounded the leaves a little harder than necessary with the pestle. Raif had asked her if her offer to help remained. But it had felt like a test, a test to see if she was a good fit for the uprising.

If killing the king was what it took, she was in.

Chapter Nineteen

Virian was winding down for the day, the crowds thinning out for the shift between work and the nightlife that would shortly begin. Zylah walked beside Saphi in companionable silence as she watched the shops close, the restaurants open. After spending the last few evenings after work at the gardens making poultices, they’d spent the afternoon delivering them all to the various safe houses dotted around the city. One had been under the guise of a school, another a religious house, one simply a place for refugees. The rest were so run down and dingy, no citizen in their right mind would care to enter the buildings to investigate.

Zylah had tried not to gawk at the faeries as Saphi explained the poultices. One had walked by with skin as blue as the sky on a summer’s day and wings as delicate as a dragonfly’s. The blue faerie spoke quietly to a male with scales covering his arms and featherless, leathery wings, before circling the room and talking to each of the Fae that were present. The room was near to full, but she made time for each of them, and Zylah wondered if this washersafe house by the way the others seemed to regard her.

The uprising was much larger than Zylah had anticipated. And there were so many faeries—Kara would never believe her if there were ever the chance to explain it. Arnir had turned the Fae out of Dalstead, but Zylah realised now she was a fool for believing they had been wiped out.

Even with Arnir gone, she wasn’t sure what place she’d have in Virian. If there were other half Fae like her, she hadn’t met any, and Saphi’s suggestion that she’d explain the poultices to the other Fae told Zylah all she needed to know. A half Fae would likely not be well received.

The usual array of evening vendors were setting up for the night as they made their way back, the clatter of equipment and the squeak of cartwheels interrupting Zylah’s thoughts.Three more months.Just three more months and she could go anywhere she wanted. And if her training with Holt continued to go as well as it had been in the past few days, Zylah knew she’d be leaving Virian confident enough to protect herself.

The steady thrum of a guard unit approaching had Zylah adjusting her hood, just as Saphi’s hand rested on her arm. “I know what it is to run,” she said softly.

Zylah fought the urge to press a hand to her stomach, to quell the twisting inside her. She braced herself for whatever Saphi was going to say.

The Fae’s bracelets jingled against each other. “You have nothing to fear from me.”

“And the others?” Zylah wasn’t stupid enough to believe whatever she’d gotten into with Raif would be enough to keep her anonymity. Not if they felt she compromised everything they were doing.

“You’re not the first one of us to run from a king, Liss.” Saphi moved her empty basket to her free hand and looped her arm through Zylah’s.

Zylah didn’t need to look up to know the Fae was watching the guards walk away. “How did you know?”

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