Page 32 of Oathborn
Chapter eleven
Zari
Sneaking Annette home had been easier than she’d expected. The servant side staircase was easily accessible to the house, so she’d brought her inside, laid her on a couch, and kissed her forehead. At dawn, Zari got up from her bed, and prepared to leave.
Better for her to depart like this, with a note saying she was headed north on a short trip, than for her to confuse her friend with half-truths and secrets. Zari threw items in her largest purse, a change of clothes, a first aid kit, and her father’s letters, because she couldn’t imagine being too far from them.
Zari’s head spun with all that had occurred. Annette, subject to an Oathborn’s curse. Her own father, alive? And her, now, agreeing to travel with a fae, all the way to the isles. Despite the fear churning within her, a small bit of excitement bubbled up. She’d always been so curious about the fae as a child. Now, she was to go to where they lived, to pretend to be one of them… And see her father again.
As she checked over her packing, she paused. Yansin would be here soon. They’d agreed to an early morning walk, after all. He was part fae, maybe he’d know more about how their magic worked and what it meant to have the Oathborn mark.
If he could offer any advice at all, it might be helpful. She decided to wait for him, before heading to the train station. Though Tivre had told hersunrise, the ticket in her hand suggested the train would not leave until nearly midday.
She didn’t have to wait long.
As he approached, walking down the sidewalk to the gated entry, Yansin moved slower, as if a burden had been placed on his shoulders. He wasn’t whistling, like he had been the last times he’d approached, and even his auburn hair, half-heartedly pulled back, seemed more disheveled.
“Yansin?” she called, as he turned toward the house.
Glancing up at her, his eyes went wide, as if surprised she was waiting for him. She said, fingers tightening around her purse like it was a lifeline. “I can’t go on our walk today. Things have… changed.”
“I would say so.” His gaze landed on her exposed wrist, and the Oathborn mark there.
“I need to talk to you.”
He shrugged out of his coat. “First, you should cover up. That mark on your arm… it won’t make your life easier.” He still held out his coat, though she made no move to take it.
“I’m not what you think. It’s not a real mark.” Only now did she fully grasp the danger of what she’d agreed to. Others would recognize the Oathborn mark; not all of them would be as kind as Yansin.
She couldn’t tell him the truth, not when she barely understood it herself. The night had turned everything inside out, and now the one person she most wanted to confide in was a man she barely knew. So she said nothing, and hated the silence between them all the more for it.
“Something tells me you didn’t receive that mark from a tattoo parlor of ill repute.” Yansin’s tone stayed light, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. They held none of that glittering merriment which had so enchanted her last night.
“No.” Zari found herself rubbing at the mark, wishing it might flake off, or might prove last night’s events were a dream. “You’d think me mad if I told you the story.”
Yansin offered her his hand. “Why don’t we walk together to get a cup of coffee, and you can see if such a prediction will come true?”
Her hand went to her pocket and she once more checked her father’s watch, to make sure she would have the time. A reminder that he might be alive, which meant her future, her home, all those things which had disappeared upon his death, could be returned.
If the fae was telling the truth.
Zari slid the watch away and took Yansin’s offered coat. He bent to carefully adjust the collar, allowing her the faintest hint of his aftershave, something minty and sharp, with a whisper of some spice she couldn’t recognize.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Of course. Now, coffee?” he once more offered his hand, and this time, Zari took it. They walked together, down the sidewalk, and as they did, Zari began to talk.
“A fae came for my friend, Annette. She—she’s part fae. I had no idea. I didn’t realize how common…” She trailed off, remembering just who she spoke to.
“It’s true there’s more of us part-fae than the authorities would like to admit. Though less than there once was.” Yansin sighed. Again, she was caught off-guard by just how weary he seemed.
She hesitated. Part of her wanted to ask him the same question he’d once asked her.What happened to you?Because something had changed, she could feel it. In the way he stood, in the quiet ache behind his words. So, carefully, she hedged her question. “I don’t mean to only talk about myself, Yansin. You seem troubled, too.”
“Do I?”
“Mm,” she nodded. “Did you not sleep well?”
“Ah, no. I’m afraid not at all.”
