Page 84 of A Legacy of Storms and Starlight

“Why does everyone else’s safety matter above your own?”

He looked away, still toying with the bracelet. “Because I have nothing to lose.”

“Do you truly believe that?”

Kopi flew in through the open window, landing on the table between them. Zylah stroked his head in greeting and he ruffled his feathers.

Holt rested his hands on the edge of the table, his attention on Kopi. “Raif is confident Marcus will be less inclined to interfere this way.”

“So it’s Marcus you’re worried about?” Guards marched their morning route on the street below, and Zylah wondered whether Arnir had anything on Marcus at all, whether the Fae was just, as Saphi had said, playing a long game. Going along with the king’s demands. Biding his time.

Holt followed the guards until they were out of sight. “Marcus is always a concern.”

Zylah hated that she’d been right. That they were getting Arnir out of the way only to have another tyrant take his place. “What’s the plan, once Arnir is dead?”

“This has taken years to prepare, Zylah. Every puzzle piece affects another.” He reached out for Kopi, just as the little owl shuffled towards him.

The dread that she’d managed to shove down had begun to resurface. “That wasn’t an answer. Do the others know what you do for Marcus? The extent of your debt?”

“No.”

“Is it… is it because of your parents?”

Holt leaned back in his chair. “My parents? No. I wasn’t there when Marcus took their lives. But my sister. He promised me he’d keep her safe.” He looked out of the window, across the city, as if he were looking at a memory. “He saved her so that I would owe him. And then he left her to die.”

Zylah pressed a hand to her stomach, wrestling with her nausea. A quiet sense of foreboding wrapped around her heart. She didn’t like any of this. Not one bit. Marcus was trouble, and not even his own children were enough to change him. “That’s why saving Raif and Rose was so important to you.” Her voice was quiet as she spoke, almost a whisper as she pieced together everything Holt had done for his friends.

“Yes.”

A life for a life.The bastard. And they were as good as handing Marcus the throne. Zylah would spend the rest of her life hiding from Arnir if it meant ridding this world of Marcus. If she ever got the chance, she was going to kill Marcus herself. For Holt and Adina. For Raif and Rose.

She thought through everything Marcus had said the night she’d met him, everything he’d done. “Back in the tunnels—with Marcus. He mentioned something about my eyes. Do you know what he meant?”

Holt carried Kopi over to his dresser, opening his hands for the owl to hop out. “Your eye colour is not just rare for humans.”

Zylah stilled. “Marcus… recognised me? Do you think he might know my family?”

“I think if he does, he’ll never tell you. He’ll use it against you.”

Like he’d used Holt. The unspoken words hung in the air, but Zylah said nothing. She’d seen Marcus’s power. Arnir must have had something, some reason he had Marcus parading around as his pet. “Why aren’t you going after Marcus at the festival? Raif, I mean. Why isn’t Marcus the target?”

Holt pulled a fresh shirt from the chest of drawers. “A life debt is… I can’t harm him. I can’t even hear of any harm coming to him…” He pulled off his shirt, and Zylah looked away.

“And you’re telling me Raif and Rose have never once thought of this for themselves?”

“He’s still their father.”

“You choose your own family,” she said, turning back to him. He raked a hand through his hair before rolling up his sleeves, ready to leave for the day. Zack and her father had found her, brought her up as family, and every day they chose her. Every day she chose them. That was what family was, and she knew Holt understood that. The way he’d chosen Raif and Rose and Saphi.

He rested a hand on the doorknob. “Marcus will be at the festival, Zylah. Just stay out of his way.” The door clicked shut behind him before Zylah could reply.

She grabbed her apron, tying the fastenings behind her back as an idea took shape. She’d need to find Asha. She wasn’t sure she could trust him, but he was the only one she could ask, and something told her he would want to help fix this. She reached for her eyeglasses and didn’t dare let herself hope that her plan might work.

Zylah would not replace one tyrant with another. She would not let Marcus win.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Asha had been more than willing to help. Zylah looked at herself in the mirror, her unease causing the hairs on her neck to stand on end. Saphi had given her a floor-length silver dress for the festival, so fine it looked like liquid metal when she moved. She wore the necklace Raif had given her, and on her head sat a fine silver circlet that dipped onto her forehead.

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