Page 27 of A Legacy of Wrath and Reckoning

Without the Fae’s shadows to rely on, moving was harder. Kopi flew ahead, making little sounds of encouragement when Zylah successfully figured out the path Kej cut for her through the snow. She tried to reach out further with her senses, like casting an invisible web over everything, gossamer threads sinking into the snow to feel for the earth beneath it, slithering over rocks and hazards jutting up in her way.

It was like the way she’d pulled apart deceits before, only in reverse. Whereas that had been like unravelling a tapestry from a single thread, this was like reweaving it, only the tapestry was the terrain, the world around her. Like she was mapping it out with her newfound magic.

Not every step was a success. Kej led her with intention—he’d avoided deep drops and steep inclines, but there were still enough small hazards that she had to keep her wits about her at all times, and there were plenty of stumbles. Plenty of moments her hands and knees smacked into the snow.

When Zylah thought she could go no farther, the terrain changed, those threads weaving a path through a narrow pass, light blotted out by more rock. Exhaustion had her following Daizin’s shadows instead of pushing her strange new sight, leading them into a small, musty cave.

Zylah slid to the dirt as Kopi made his familiar little warbling sounds somewhere nearby. She held out a hand to summon the bag she’d left behind in Deyna’s tent, some blankets, more magic passing over her as Kej shifted back into his Fae form. With the last of her energy, she stole a bundle of firewood and a small amount of food from the Aquaris Court, certain this time Malok and Cirelle wouldn’t mind if it was for their son. Neither Daizin nor Kej commented on her theft, working in comfortable silence to build a fire.

Zylah could do nothing but bundle herself in a blanket. “There’s a flint in my bag, take whatever you need,” she murmured, her limbs growing heavier.

“We moved too fast today,” Kej said quietly as the fire blazed to life and sleep pulled her under.

Vivid images filled her dreams. And pain, always pain. Rhaznia’s legs caging her in like the bars of a cell. A cell made of vanquicite, hands gripping the bars, hands as familiar to her as her own.

Zylah.

“Zylah.”

Her head throbbed. Chest ached.

“Zylah,” Kej said again. “You were dreaming.” He helped her to sit up. “You need to eat something.”

A water canister was pressed into her hands and Zylah took a swig with trembling hands, almost choking on the liquid as it went down. It wasn’t a dream. It was Holt. And it wasn’t her pain, but his. Every moment of agony in the maze, every wave of suffering, it had all been his. She pressed a hand to her chest, a sob lodged in her throat, her stomach in knots and her thoughts a scattered mess.

“Zylah?” Kej’s voice was soft. “What is it?”

“Holt,” she whispered.

“Rin told us you think he’s alive.” There was no accusation in Daizin’s tone, no hint of scepticism.

“You believe me?”

Daizin’s shadows moved closer, fingers gently closing hers around a bowl. “He’s your mate. It doesn’t matter what we saw. Only what you can feel.”

Zylah made a noise that was more sob than laugh. “I can barely feel anything. Pain, mostly. His pain, I think. But sometimes…” She tilted her head to the bowl in her hands, tested her magic to try andseethe contents, but the scent of the brin fruit and bread gave it away. “Sometimes a fraction of that warmth I felt before. Even if it was only for a few days.”

A few days. A few days were all they’d had before they’d been pulled apart. It only sharpened her wrath. She was going to find him, even if she had to tear apart the continent to do it.

“Eat,” Daizin told her. “You slept all night, but we need to keep moving.”

Zylah didn’t feel like eating, but she did as he asked. Changed the cloth over her eyes, applying the oil Deyna had prepared for her. Her vision remained the same, but her other sight she would test once they were out of the cave.

“I can try to send a message to the others.” She fastened the new cloth behind her head. “Let them know we’re alright.” A beat of silence passed; Zylah was certain Kej and Daizin were exchanging glances. “What is it?”

“Nye and I found a way to communicate,” Daizin admitted.

“Your shadows.” There had been no doubting the similarity in their strange shadow abilities. Daizin’s to shift into a shadow wolf, Nye’s shadow fox. Zylah suspected Nye had been investigating their likeness since the moment they’d met.

A hum of agreement from Daizin. She didn’t press him for more as they packed away their things, as Kej explained that they were still in the Northern Territories moving south. Soon they would be passing Dalstead and Eldham, the closest she’d been since fleeing Arnir’s gallows. Since the day she’d met Holt. She replayed every moment of their first meeting over and over as she followed Kej and Daizin through more snow.

Daizin took his wolf form, taking it in turns with Kej to alternate shifting, giving Zylah time to pepper them both with questions about what had happened in the time she’d been away.

Kej explained they’d still mostly been camped out south of Virian at the edge of the Kerthen Forest, dealing with vampires and their thralls, the occasional Aster. “Last I knew, your brother had been getting what remained of the Black Veil into the tunnels.”

Zack. He’d been heading up the Black Veil, Holt had told her, and it had come as no surprise. Zack had been King Arnir’s Blade for years, and when everything had happened, when she’d had no choice but to flee, he’d wanted to become involved with the uprising in her absence.

“Why the tunnels?” she asked, fingers tingling where her hand pressed against rock as she paused to catch her breath. The threads of her magic unspooled through the rock itself, until she knew how high it stretched and how deep it sank into the earth beneath her feet.

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