Page 95 of A Legacy of Wrath and Reckoning

“For the way you used him,” Zylah said, her eyes meeting Holt’s before shifting back to Mae. “For the way you used those around you. The way youcontinueto use those around you. Even now.” She stared pointedly at Finn’s empty sleeve before holding Mae’s watery gaze. At least the High Lady had enough sense not to argue; neither Finn nor Sarina did, either.

Again, Mae whispered something in Sarina’s ear, and this time the Fae clapped her hands. “Leave,” Sarina told the room. The remaining Fae dispersed without dissent, some of them bowing low to their High Lady before they left, all of them giving Holt and Zylah a wide berth. Neither Sarina nor Finn shifted from Mae’s side, the male taking over with the cloth to pass it gently over Mae’s exposed skin.

Zylah wouldn’t let herself feel guilty. Not for this. Not for the Fae that had used Holt for years, who had whipped one of her own, used those she loved no matter the cost.

“You have the antidote?” Finn asked, and there was no doubting the desperation in his tone.

Mae made no attempt to offer up the information they needed; there were no Yzdrit waiting in the court, no stockpiles of arrenium sitting beside one of the cascades. Yet Finn was missing an arm, Sarina an eye, so some exchange had been made, some bargain had been struck, Zylah suspected.

She made her way to the table beyond the bed, considering whether the court, whether Astaria, would be better off without Mae in it. The spread was wildly different from just a few days before: all matter of medicines were strewn across the table, herbs, a pestle and mortar, uncorked vials of tonics that were of absolutely no use here. None contained the single ingredient needed to counter the poison from the alcane, the clavaria that sat in Zylah’s pocket preserved in moss.

“They took an eye and an arm. What did the Yzdrit give you in return?” Zylah asked.

“Two of their best blacksmiths have gone on ahead,” Finn began.

Zylah raised a hand to cut him off, made her way to the foot of the bed. “She’s quite capable of telling me. Aren’t you, Mae?”

Mae was all but swallowed up by cushions and blankets, her body frail and fragile from the alcane poisoning her blood. Zylah felt Holt step into place beside her, his arm brushing hers and his comforting scent wrapping around her as they waited for Mae’s answer.

The High Lady wet her lips, her gaze lifting to meet Zylah’s. “It is as Finn said.” A wheeze, Sarina and Finn fussing over her before Mae shook them off. “Two blacksmiths went ahead to your camp at the edge of Kerthen.” Another wheeze, and this time, Sarina dipped a fresh cloth into a cup of water, dabbing it along Mae’s lips.

They hadn’t told her about the camp. Or its location, and though it was warded, it wouldn’t be difficult for spies to stumble across with so many soldiers coming and going. But Mae had eyes and ears everywhere, connections she loved to spread information to for a price. It was why Holt had brought them to the court the last time. But it didn’t sit well with Zylah that two strangers were now on their way to their friends, unannounced, when they possessed such a clear penchant for bargains. For suffering.

“They’re willing to work against Ranon,” Mae offered, as if she could sense Zylah’s rising temper.

Holt had tensed beside her at Mae’s statement, but Zylah knew his expression wouldn’t show it. He doubted the truth of Mae’s words just as much as she did. “What did you have to promise this time for them to agree to that?” Finn’s arm, Sarina’s eye. They can’t have been the only bargaining chips for a prize so great.

“That is my secret to keep,” the High Lady managed, but the words broke into a cough.

There was a threat there, though Zylah had to admire the Fae’s audacity, even as she lay on her death bed. She tossed the bundle of moss at Finn’s feet. “Boil this until it dissolves. Have her drink the water once its cooled. All of it, even when she throws up half her guts in your lap, make her finish it all.”

Finn was already moving, rushing for the door. “Will she live?”

“Maybe.” Zylah shrugged. “If you hurry.” She took in Mae’s frail form, searching herself for any signs of regret and finding none. Affirmation warmed her skin, Holt’s support wrapping around her shoulders and sharpening her resolve. She met his gaze, slid her hand into his, and turned to leave.

“Ranon is trying to return home,” Mae rasped behind them.

Impossible… and yet….

I think she’s telling the truth, Holt told her.

Zylah paused, turning to face the High Lady one last time and searching her face for any hint of a lie. Mae’s crystalline eyes slid to where Holt’s hand wrapped around Zylah’s, then back up to meet her gaze. “Blessings, Zylah,” the Fae said with a sad smile, something that might have been relief in her tone. “He was waiting for you.”

They didn’t wait for Finn to return to see if the antidote worked, only made their way through the court to say their goodbyes to Dalana and Ellisar. The pair insisted they return soon to celebrate their mating, and Zylah accepted their invitation gladly, though she didn’t have it in her to tell them there was no knowing when that would be.

With Kopi resuming his position on her shoulder, Holt wrapped his hand over hers and they began their journey back to camp.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Theybarelymadeitten steps into the camp before Kej tackled Holt into the dirt.

“Fucking finally,” he told his friend, hands clasped either side of Holt’s face before wrapping his arms around him in a fierce hug. “Are you going to gut me if I congratulate her?”

Zylah laughed, holding out a hand to help Kej haul himself off Holt. “Of course he won’t.”

Suddenly their friends were surrounding them, Zack too, smiles and laughter spreading among them all and the occasional ear-splitting whoop from Kej. Even Arlan emerged from one of the tents to offer his congratulations, Daizin followed by Okwata and Ahrek. Zylah hid her amusement at how the males kept their distance from her, how only Zack hovered at her side with Rin and Nye, the rest of them remaining beside Holt out of respect.

A far cry from the human traditions she’d grown up with. Holt’s unspoken apology hummed in her bones, but it was laced with his amusement, too, and Zylah revelled in the joy of the moment, knowing it would be over all too quickly.

---