Page 31 of A Legacy of Wrath and Reckoning

I’m here. I’ll find you, she told Holt, though she doubted he could hear her. Even at the edge of the lake, far from the centre of Virian, she could feel the vanquicite cage he sat within. Thick, gleaming bars looming over him, pressing in on all sides. Zylah raised a hand to her chest. “He’s in Virian, Kej. I have to go.” She’d brought them to the lake beside the demolished mine. To the edge of Kerthen and Nye’s camp. To their friends. And she couldn’t stay a moment longer.

Kej eased her down into the reeds. “You can’t go like this. You’re exhausted. You can’t fucking see. You’ve no idea what you’re walking into.”

All good points. But how could she explain it to him? How could she make him understand? It wasn’t just aneed, it was as essential as breathing. Holt was so close, and he had endured so much, she wasn’t sure how he was still alive. All she knew for certain was that she was going to find him and get him out of there.

Daizin swore beside them, his shadows testing the wound Zylah had healed. “Thank you,” he told her, resting a hand on her arm.

Zylah nodded. “Go find your sister, Kej. I’ll wait here with Daizin.”

“Leave him out here alone, and you and I are going to have words.” Her friend’s tone was teasing, but Zylah didn’t doubt the truth in them.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she promised him. “Go.”

Wind blew across the lake, stirring a few loose strands of her hair, the quiet susurrus of reeds the only sound other than her and Daizin’s breathing. With her new magic she looked across the water, the mine at its shore, and beyond it, Virian.

I’ll be there soon, just hold on, she told Holt. She shoved aside the panic that crept through her at the answering silence, unwilling to accept any other reasoning. She’d felt his pain. Felthim. He was alive, in a cell. She was certain of it.

Kopi called out from within the forest behind them. Not an alert, just his quiet way of letting her know he was near. That she wasn’t alone, just like he had on so many nights when they’d fled Virian.

Holt had been with her then, even when she hadn’t known it. Hadn’t understood the feeling that lingered beneath the grief and the guilt. She wouldn’t let the maze drive her crazy, but this guessing, this uncertainty over Holt when she was so close to Virian might just be the thing that pushed her over the edge. So close and she was too weak to be of any use to him.

Daizin pushed to his elbows but Zylah pressed a hand to his chest to stop him. “You lost a lot of blood; I don’t want to be the one to explain to Kej you passed out when he gets back. Besides, I’m a little too tired for a fight with a wildcat.” She willed her hand not to shake as she said it, fatigue clawing at every limb.

The Fae loosed a breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. “He does get whiny when he’s angry, doesn’t he?”

She could make out the outline of his smile now, the dark brown of his eyes. Her magic was growing. But Kej was right, she was exhausted, and she didn’t have it in her to return his smile.

“But he’s right, Zylah. You need to rest first. We all do. Then we’ll go with clear heads and bring him back.”

He meant well. But none of them could go where she could. Not if the palace contained as much vanquicite as she suspected. But she didn’t voice her thoughts, only looked out across the water as she felt their friends approach from within the forest.

“Imala must have been watching the three of you,” Rin said breathlessly when she reached them.

“Not Imala. Zylah.” Kej was already at Daizin’s side, a hand at the Fae’s back. Between him and his sister, they helped Daizin to his feet, ignoring the Fae’s attempts to push them away. He truly had lost a lot of blood, and though he would be fine, he needed to rest.

Zylah called her spear to her hand to follow, lost in the memory of the last time she’d stood in this spot.

“Whatever happens today…”Holt had told her.

“We’ll find each other. At the end of it,”she’d assured him.

And whatever happened, Zylah intended to keep her promise.

Rin and Kej spoke quietly as they guided Daizin through the trees. Kerthen felt different now, less daunting with her new magic. She let it spread out ahead of them as her friends led the way, let it pass through the wards to the camp, finding the exact thread she’d need to pull them apart if she wanted, no need to search and examine as she had before.

Though there were things that were familiar: the scent of damp soil and rotten leaves underfoot, a strange vibration in the air, this time, she could feel soldiers around their fires, on their bedrolls, could recognise Nye’s shadow signature so similar to Daizin’s.

But her friends were right. She had pushed herself earlier. Fighting, evanescing, healing, casting the net of her new magic too far even now. No matter how much Holt needed her, she was no good to him like this, fighting to hide the tremble of exhaustion in her steps, ignoring her pounding headache. Zylah pulled back on her magic, leaving just enough to piece together the night around her. She followed her friends to a tent, Nye’s shadows flickering out from underneath it as they entered, accompanied by two signatures she thought she recognised.

“Thank you,” Nye told her, a hand at her elbow. Zylah studied her friend now that her magic was stronger. Still in uniform at such a late hour, the sheath across Nye’s chest was heavy with knives, just as it had been the first time they’d met, only now she wore her black hair braided tightly to her head, the same gold rings she’d worn at the Aquaris Court adorning the braids. The Fae’s shadows licked around them, though Zylah knew only she could see them, and perhaps Daizin. She rested a hand over her friend’s in gratitude before turning to Nye’s guests.

It was the two acquaintances Zylah had made back in Maelissa’s court, Okwata, and, Zylah sucked in a breath. Ahrek’s deceits were totally stripped away by her magic, revealing his true form. He stood on two feet, a man, for the most part, save for his feline features: pointed ears, whiskered face, short, blond fur in place of skin, and that tail she’d caught glimpses of in the past.

Not Lesser Fae. Something else. Though she had no idea what, or from where. Zylah had her suspicions, but she held her tongue. If Ahrek wished to hide what he was with deceits, she would not be the one to expose him to her friends. And though she was content for them to witness her new magic, she saw no use in telling them she couldseethrough deceits entirely now. Some secrets ought to remain that way.

“It’s good to meet you again, Zylah,” Okwata said from his wheelchair, no hesitation in his voice at the cloth over her eyes. “I’m sure you’re wondering what we’re doing here.”

Mae’s archers, Zylah presumed. They were the reason she and Holt had visited Maelissa’s court, for the archers renowned for their arrenium bows and arrows, an asset to any army. And a much-needed advantage when taking out a legion of vampires and thralls.

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