Page 126 of A Legacy of Wrath and Reckoning

But it had still been his idea, that much Zylah knew without having to ask. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she wiped them away with the back of her hand, still clutching the daylilies Jilah had given her.

Moss covered a circle of stones, some taller than Holt, and at the centre were a pair of weatherworn statues in the likeness of two Fae, hands joined, warm smiles on their faces as they gazed at each other.

Zylah’s hand slipped from Holt’s. Her parents. She held her breath as she moved around the statues, greedily taking in the details in the stone: the set of her father’s jaw, the shape of her mother’s mouth. But then it occurred to her— “Is this their true likeness?”

“Sira had a host bury them here, gave a stonemason their descriptions. She told me it’s very close.”

A host. Zylah still understood very little of what that entailed, whether it would have been to Sira as if she could feel each stab of the shovel into the dirt. Beneath the rock, her threads sank below the earth until they reached the ageing bones of Anwen and Gideon, curled together in an embrace.

Sira had told her how her parents had gone into hiding after trapping Pallia, how they remained hidden as long as they could, forever fearful of Pallia’s watchful gaze, of her power even from her tomb. How they’d waited to start a family for as long as they could, using the vanquicite when Zylah’s birth had coincided with the uprising, only for Pallia to use a host and murder them when they were trying to protect the child they’d coveted for so long.

She knelt before her parents, the statues casting her in shadow, sprites dancing around the stone. “Thank you,” she whispered, placing a few daylilies at the feet of each of her parents. “For everything. For keeping me safe. For everything you gave up.” She wished she could have known them. Could have asked them how they met, about their friendship with Holt’s mother. Wished she could have introduced them to the human father who’d raised her, to Zack.

Fabric wrapped around her shoulders, and Zylah realised Holt must have summoned her cloak when she’d begun to shiver. She sat there until her legs ached. Until she was too tired to move, nothing but the rustle of trees and the sprites breaking the stillness, exhaustion weighing heavily in her bones.

Holt swept her up in his arms at the thought.Ready?he asked her gently.We can come back whenever you want.

Wait.

He stepped closer to the stones, close enough for her to reach out a hand and touch them. Zylah let a kernel of her power pour into the statues of her parents, her threads following the path of it through the stone, through the moss and dirt and worms until it reached their bones. A little piece of her to remain with a little piece of them.

She rested her head against Holt’s chest, her attention fixed on the faded likeness of her parents.I’m ready.

Holt evanesced them back to Virian, but not before he quietly thanked her parents, too.

Chapter Sixty-Four

Weeksbecamemonths,andsix months after they’d taken back the city from the army of monsters, Zylah and Holt returned to the palace grounds for the first council meeting, every member elected by the citizens of Astaria.

A council of twenty-four members, human and Fae. Two familiar faces sat amongst the newly chosen leaders: Nye and Saphi. Though Nye had once told Zylah she hadn’t wanted to take her parents’ position leading the Aquaris Court, that she had too much living to do, she’d slipped into her political role well. Saphi too, the Fae’s experience of being indoctrinated by the priestesses and the years that followed making her a perfect representative for their kind.

They had both encouraged Zylah to run for a council position, given her unique experience of having lived as both human and Fae. And when she’d politely declined, they hadn’t pushed the matter. She’d considered doing it in her brother’s name, considered all the things she should be doing because he could not. But she also knew he would want her to focus on healing, hers and Holt’s.

Rose fidgeted at Zylah’s side, a knee-length dress revealing her repaired arrenium leg, courtesy of Okwata and his blacksmith friends, the two Yzdrit.

“I’m more nervous than she is,” the Fae said, smoothing her hands over the hem of crimson silk. Entirely inappropriate for a council meeting, but they were all in the same predicament today.

Zylah chuckled. “I thought you saw it go well?”

“You know as well as I do, my visions aren’t always wholly accurate.” Rose blew out a breath, pressing her hands to her cheeks before whispering, “I’m so proud of her.”

They all were. And though Zylah hadn’t known exactly when it happened, she was proud of Rose, too. Holt’s gratitude flared in her chest, his thumb brushing against the small of her back underneath her shawl. The three of them had made their peace over Raif, but it wasn’t him that had brought them closer together. They all shared the pain of losing a sibling, and there was comfort in not being alone in their grief.

Raif might have considered it protection, keeping her in Ranon’s maze, might have cared deeply for Holt just as Rose had said. The vampire had described himself as a parasite, had known he was every bit his mother’s making. Zylah tried to believe he’d truly wanted to atone for his actions, that perhaps he’d understood he’d failed in his attempts at mending everything he’d broken.

And for better or worse, Zylah had found a sister of sorts in Rose. She’d put aside all that Raif had done, for Rose’s sake, to see him only as the Fae’s brother; to share the loss of her own. It wasn’t perfect. Some days the anger still threatened to surface. But Zylah wasn’t afraid to feel it now, to feel all of it, because she knew that on the days she did, she wasn’t alone.

In the newly repaired courtyard where Arnir had once sat on a vanquicite throne, the twenty-four councillors each delivered their promises to Astaria, to those that had been invited to witness the first meeting. Humans and Fae alternated, Nye speaking on military matters, the success of the combined army, the training programmes she and the Aquaris Court were hoping to roll out across the continent to any who wished to join. Saphi spoke of the priestesses, perhaps a more delicate subject than most, given how deeply ingrained Pallia had become in the lives of humans as one of their deities. But it was a beginning, and change took time.

Beside Holt, Ahrek fussed over something on Okwata’s chair, the latter swatting him away to observe the proceedings. They’d been instrumental in putting the council together, coordinating arrangements for the elections, though it had not been without its fair share of challenges.

Holt had been instrumental, too. So much of his life’s work had led to this, and Zylah knew it was with no small amount of awe and pride that he watched each councillor deliver their promises, though she didn’t miss the tension running through him, as if he were waiting for some misstep, for a fight to break out, or worse.

Everyone’s going to behave.She glanced up at him, the corner of her mouth twitching as she tried to hide her smile.I’ve promised to set Kej on them if they make us late for the ceremony.

He arched a brow at her, fighting his own smile as his eyes darted about the crowd.There are some here who would pay good money to see that.

Zylah smiled at him then, unable to contain her pride at all he’d achieved. She took in the way the shadows had gone from beneath his eyes, his freshly shaven face, the fine cut of his dark navy suit over his muscled arms.We definitely need more excuses to wear fine clothes.

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