Page 106 of A Legacy of Storms and Starlight

“What kind of ways?”

“Mental attacks. They are… a violation of everything that we are.”

He said it like he knew. Like he’d experienced it.

“Raif didn’t teach me, no. He didn’t teach me much when it came to Fae abilities.”

Holt was silent at that. Zylah had wondered about it many times—Raif’s reluctance. He’d been so encouraging with the healing that day in the grotto with Niara, but since then… he’d always had an excuse, something else for them to do instead. Whether it was training, making her laugh, distracting her with his insufferable ways.

Her heart hurt even more at the thought of that word, as though at the same moment Raif had fallen she’d taken a blade to the chest, too. Why hadn’t she told him she loved him? So many times she’d wanted to. So many times she should have. She pressed a hand over her heart again and sucked in a breath against the pain.

“Breathe, Zylah,” Holt murmured behind her. Daylight had long since disappeared, and Zylah knew Holt had chosen the forest bordering Virian where Mala had died. Where the Asters lingered. She didn’t care. In that moment, she was just as much a monster as they were.

A monster just like Jesper. “Jesper… he’s a vampire,” Zylah said quietly, resting her hands on the front of the saddle. It took a lot of effort to keep herself upright; her wounds were healed, but she was still exhausted, and she was certain they weren’t healed entirely, at least, the pain in her back told her that was the case. Perhaps it was her lump—the vanquicite—and it had been dislodged by Oz’s whip. Maybe she’d healed it wrong.

“The vampires were created by the original Fae—your gods. Two of them, anyway. Ranon and Sira.”

Raif had told her as much at the festival.

Holt continued, “The vampires are immortal like we are, but they need blood to sustain them. But there were complications Ranon and Sira hadn’t anticipated, the vampires began creating more of their kind and developed a particular taste for Fae blood, and when the gods realised that they tried to destroy them. Vampires haven’t been seen since I was a child.” Holt spoke quietly as they rode through the forest, branches and tree trunks a blur as they passed them in the darkness.

Zylah followed Kopi’s tiny silhouette flying ahead of them, darting out of view every now and then, flying faster than she’d ever seen him fly before. They were moving downhill; on this side of Virian, she knew the forest stretched for miles.

“None of this is your fault, Zylah,” Holt said after a while.

“It isn’t yours either.” She knew he’d likely been replaying it all over and over in his head just as she had. Wondering what more he could have done. How he could have intervened. But he’d moved so fast around Jesper and Raif, Zylah had wondered if there would be a limit to his power, if he would stop to catch his breath, but he didn’t, not once. He did everything he could to help Raif.

They were silent for a moment.

“I don’t know how to grieve for them both at once. My father. Raif. It’s like I don’t know how to feel.” Only Holt’s quiet breathing told Zylah he was listening behind her. “Did it get easier when Adina died? After you lost your parents?”

Holt sighed, shifted in the saddle. He was being careful not to touch her, although, sharing one saddle, it was practically impossible. He adjusted the reins, one hand at a time. “It doesn’t really get easier. You just learn to carry the weight of it.”

Zylah rested a hand on his. It was all she could offer at that moment. He’d lost so many people. Raif wasn’t hers alone, she reminded herself, even though the thought brought selfish tears burning at the corners of her eyes. Was it wrong to want him to be? When she was alone, she supposed it wouldn’t matter anyway.

They rode through the night until the grey light of dawn seemed to cling to everything. Holt pulled the horse to a stop at the edge of an even darker expanse of forest, a wet, musty odour lingering in the air. The horse whinnied and took a step back, and Kopi flew down and rested on its head, as if to calm it. Zylah swallowed, staring into the dark depths of the forest ahead. The hairs on her neck stood on end.

“Asters and vampires are not the only dark creatures the gods created,” Holt said quietly as he dismounted. “There are more out here in the wilderness. No one will expect you to go that way.”

He helped Zylah down, holding her steady when her legs wobbled from so long on the horse.

“And you’re confident I’ll make it through to the other side?” She looked into the dark, shadows moving through the trees in the distance, but Kopi didn’t cry out.

“I am. You’re far more resilient than you know.”

Zylah huffed a quiet laugh. “You didn’t even ask me if I could ride a horse.”

Holt’s face paled.

“I can ride a horse, Holt, relax.” A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth for a moment, but it immediately felt wrong. How could she be smiling when Raif was gone, when she would never see his smile again? She pressed a hand to her chest.

Holt reached into his coat and pulled out a paper bag. “One for the road?”

Zylah sniffed at the air, already knowing what was inside. A canna cake. Holt’s mouth quirked, but Zylah couldn’t bring herself to say anything other than a quiet, “Thank you.”

“Give me your apron. I need to mark your scent, create a diversion.” Holt held out a hand as Zylah began to shrug out of her cloak.

She handed him the apron and pulled her cloak back on, fastening the buttons with fingers that somehow didn’t tremble.

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