Page 41 of Night Fae
Zev overturned the writing desk that stood in the corner. It went down with a satisfying crashing noise as some of the expensive wood splintered from the force of the impact.
"You wanted this." Zev turned to Malik, who'd jumped the slightest bit at the sound. "Remember?" Zev demanded. "You told me to rage, to break things instead of myself." He swept his arm across a shelf, sending ornaments and trinkets flying. A small clock struck the floor, its mechanism giving one final, pathetic chime before falling silent.
"You said I could scream, that I could rage—" Zev's voice broke as he tore down the heavy curtains, ripping the fabric from its rods. "That I didn't have to shut down."
He drove his fist into a painting—some pastoral scene of the Night Court in its glory days. His knuckles split, blood smearing across the canvas as it ripped.
"So why areyoushutting down?"
Something flickered in Malik's eyes. A spark of awareness where before there had been nothing.
"Zev," he said, and his voice held the faintest tremor.
The sound of his name, spoken with the barest ghost of emotion, made Zev want to destroy the rest of the room. Except there was nothing left to destroy, save for the bed that Malik sat on.
Zev made himself sit on the edge of it.
What was the point of all this?
"What have they done to you?" he whispered, more to himself than to Malik.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, blood from his knuckles dripping onto the carpet. The destruction around him mirrored the chaos inside him.
Those Gods damned shadow paths.
If only it weren't for them…
A memory surfaced: Rhys and him, near those paths. Rhys's people had deified those cursed things.
"The Court thinks they own these paths," Rhys had told him. "But the paths answer to no one. They're ancient. Older than the Courts, older than most of Veridia."
Rhys had traced patterns in the earth around them, strange symbols that seemed to calm the hungry darkness.
"My people learned the secrets of the paths centuries ago," he'd explained. "We know how to travel them safely, how to feed them just enough without losing ourselves."
Zev hadn't understood then. "Why show me this?"
Rhys had smiled, eyes reflecting moonlight. "Because someday you might decide to leave this life behind, and through here is the fastest way to do it."
Zev had learned the marks to make, the words to whisper, the way to move through darkness without losing too much of himself. Not out of intellectual curiosity, but because Rhys had asked him to.
Now Zev's gaze snapped to Malik. "The excavation tunnel," he murmured. "It may be the answer."
Malik tilted his head.
Zev wanted to explain his new plan, but not where anyone might be listening.
If Zev could put into action all that Rhys had taught him, the paths could take them anywhere in Veridia. It wasn't without risk, but if they stayed here…
Zev didn't even want to consider what would become of them.
But there was one more problem standing in their way. To get Malik out of the palace, to navigate the shadow paths, to protect them both from the hungry darkness… He would need power. More power than he currently possessed.
Malik's dreams could offer such power.
Zev had tasted so much magic there, tempting him. Its potency was almost overwhelming.
Zev hadn't wanted to feed on Malik's dreams to protect his own mental state, but what was there left to protect now?
