Page 28 of A Legacy of Storms and Starlight

Zylah chewed her lip. At least one of them was helping to turn the conversation around. “Are you hearing this, Kopi? You’ve melted Holt’s cold, dark heart.”

But any trace of humour left Holt’s face at that. “There’s nothing left of my heart to melt, Zylah. I have a delivery to make; I’ll be back later. Lock the door—”

“Behind me, yes I know. I’m sorry—”Shit.

But he’d already left.

There’s nothing left of my heart to melt.

She opened the window for Kopi to fly on ahead to the gardens. He often joined her, snoozing throughout the day. Sometimes he even slept on her shoulder. In the evenings he flew on ahead of her, but she always knew he was nearby, keeping an eye out.

She closed the window as she watched him fly away, trying to work out how the last five minutes had gone so badly. She had to be independent, surely Holt could understand that?

Shit.She ran a hand over her hair.Well now you have two, he’d said when she told him she only had one friend. Somehow she’d managed to offend him multiple times in the space of a few minutes.Excellent work, Zy.

She locked the door behind her and made her way out into the streets, listing off all the ways she’d insulted him.One: asking for training.Although she still maintained he didn’t get to decide what was dangerous for her and what wasn’t.Two: she’d tried to repay him.Why couldn’t he just take the money like any normal person would?Three: she’d said he had a cold, dark heart.Which he clearly didn’t; he was just so godsdamned difficult to read.

A heavy feeling settled in her stomach. The truth was, she liked his company, too. She liked seeing his things in their room. The canna cakes he brought her for breakfast. And knowing he was there in the night when she woke. For how difficult he was to read, he’d revealed quite a big piece of himself: he didn’t like to be alone.Maybe he misses his sister.She kicked at a stone. She’d try to smooth things over later and suggest he go visit her. Maybe being with family would be good for him.

Kopi hooedfrom somewhere above, and Zylah realised she’d taken a wrong turn. She smiled at the sky as she turned back in the right direction, but the owl was already out of sight. A priestess and her acolytes paraded by, but Zylah wasn’t afraid. They were a common sight in Dalstead, and Virian’s governor answered to King Arnir, who was well known for his reverence of the gods. As far as Zylah knew, all of Astaria was under Arnir’s control, and by default, the priestesses that paraded around in his name.

Kihlan was outside the first dome when she arrived, unloading deliveries with a young man. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to reveal toned arms, his long, messy hair hanging over his shoulders in waves. He looked up and caught her gaze, offering her a polished smile, but Kopi flew down and landed on her shoulder before she had a chance to say anything.

“You were right, Kihlan, like a true goddess,” the young man said, oozing with practised charm. His face was striking, his blue eyes a bright contrast to his jet-black hair. While he was taller than her, which wasn’t difficult, he didn’t quite match up to Holt’s enormous frame.

Gods above, Zy. Are you really comparing them?Clearly, she’d missed her nights with Theo more than she’d cared to admit to herself.

Kopi flew on ahead into the dome, and the young man watched the owl go with a raised eyebrow.

“Does it come when you whistle for it?” he asked, rubbing a hand against his shirt. “I’m Raif.” Corded muscle flexed in his arm as he extended a hand in greeting.

“Liss. And no, Kopi does whatever he wants. He isn’t mine.” She shook his hand with as much vigour as she could, and though his calloused hand enveloped hers, he was gentle. She pulled away as the corner of his mouth tugged into the beginning of a smile and scooped up several boxes full of bulbs.

“Spoken like a goddess,” Raif said with a wink at Kihlan.

Zylah shook her head. She’d met his type before. Too aware of his looks for his own good. Always trouble.

Jilah greeted them as they carried their boxes in, his apron already covered in fresh dirt. He wiped his hands on a clean patch. “Raif, I wasn’t expecting you today. Is everything well?” A look of concern flickered across his face as he looked to his son and back to Raif again, waiting for an answer.

“Everything’s fine, my friend.” Raif set down his boxes and steered Jilah towards the waterfall, no doubt so they could speak away from prying ears.

Zylah observed the leather bracers at Raif’s wrists as he walked away, and the shadow of a dagger hilt pressing against his trousers just above one of his boots. He moved like Holt did, like he was wild and lethal.

“Raif’s a warrior. He’s teaching us how to fight.” Niara bit into a brin fruit as she watched Raif and her father walk away. Where in Pallia’s name had the girl appeared from?

Kihlan snatched the brin fruit from her fingers and took a bite. “We’re not supposed to tell anyone, remember?”

“Hey! Give it back!” Niara yelled, and with that, they were chasing each other through the dome, boxes forgotten.

Zylah frowned at the discarded boxes. Maybe Raif was part of the uprising. He certainly moved like someone who could fight.Or he’s part of the Black Veil.But she knew Jilah would only align himself with someone good, someone fighting for the right cause. If he was teaching the children how to fight, then why not her?

It would help smooth things over with Holt, to not have to keep asking him for help. She finished bringing in the last of the deliveries and began unpacking them, planning what she was going to say when Raif returned. Kopi hooed somewhere nearby. He preferred this dome to the second, hotter one, but he was usually outside in the gardens. He mostly slept, but now and then he’d join her.

Zylah looked up just as Raif stepped out from behind the wood strings, swiping at the loose strands of hair that had fallen into his eyes. “So you’re new here?”

Her planned speech turned to ash on her tongue. “Train me,” she blurted out. Her father had always chided her for making brash decisions. “I know you’re training the children. I can fight… a little. I just need to be better. I can help in other ways, like making healing poultices and I can—”

“Whoa. Slow down there. Help with what?” Raif folded his arms across his chest as he waited for an answer. He stood with a stillness that reminded her of Holt.He has to be Fae.

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