Page 86 of A Legacy of Poison and Lies

And that was when a thought occurred to her. The key might be veiled in a deceit to look like it was made of gold, but the key itself would not be.

She assessed the room again, her gaze taking in as many items as she could, concentrating to see if there was anything concealed beyond the lustre of the bright metal, something dull, rusty even. Something that would be out of place amongst so much treasure.

Another boom sounded, rattling the gold before them and this time Laydan winced. “Daze is alone out there, please hurry.”

Zylah swallowed, ignoring the burn of the vanquicite as she looked harder, her attention snagging on a statue of a woman, arms reaching above her head as if in offering, an object in her palms. It reminded Zylah of Imala, and she frowned as she made her way closer to look at what she held.

A golden brin fruit.

No, not golden. She looked again, the deceit rippling, falling away like water.

Arrenium.

Zylah took a step towards it, just as Daizin cried out from beyond the room full of gold.

“Go. Help him. I think I’ve found the key,” she said to Holt, flicking her chin at the statue.

He looked between her and Laydan. “Stay together.” He didn’t wait for a response, just made for the door, out into the darkness beyond.

Zylah didn’t hesitate. She closed the last of the distance between her and the statue, searching for a foothold to pull herself up.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured as she grabbed onto the statue, hauling herself up golden robes, a thigh, a hip, a breast.

With her legs on either side of an arm, she shuffled forwards to reach for the brin fruit, the clash of weapons echoing from the space beyond as her hand closed around the metal.

“Hurry!” Laydan called out from the door.

But something made Zylah pause.

She inspected the brin fruit, the seam running around it and the gnarly twist of the stalk as her eyebrows pinched together.

She placed her hands on either side of the seam and twisted, the pieces falling apart to reveal the twisted core that was one solid piece from the tip of the stalk all the way through the centre of the fruit.

The key to protect Imala’s court, hidden within the hands of a statue of her likeness.

She snatched it up, shoved it into her pocket, twisted the piece back together and placed it back into Imala’s hands, just in case.

Voices cried out from the room beyond, followed by the shrill cry of a thrall. Zylah shuffled back down the statue’s arm, almost losing her footing as she scrambled back down to the ground, just as Laydan grabbed her wrist and yanked her towards the door. “You’re sure you have it? It wouldn’t surprise me if there were a handful of decoy items in here, just to throw us off track.”

Zylah reached into her cloak and handed him the key to inspect, and at the same moment, two men burst through the gap in the rock, trapping them inside the room full of glittering treasure.

She couldn’t evanesce. Not yet, not if she was going to fight. Laydan pocketed the key and held his palms forward, but the two men were already closing on them, swords drawn. Zylah pulled her own, swiping at the first just as Kopi burst through the rock and clawed at the head of the second.

Laydan swiped a hand and the two men fell to their feet, their eyes turning milky white as they punched and swatted at an invisible foe above them, frantic whimpers erupting from their lips. Zylah noticed they both carried the sigils the priestesses wore, and with a start, she realised where she’d seen them before. In Nye’s book about the original nine.

She grabbed Laydan’s arm, pulling him out of the door to the space beyond, stopping short when Daizin’s wolf ran past them, his shadows brushing against Laydan.

“Here, take this.” Zylah shoved a dagger into the witch’s hand, pulling him with her deeper into the space. Someone had rolled orblights across the floor, but beyond them, in the darkness, Zylah’s heightened eyesight allowed her to focus on Holt, fighting with four aggressors. Human, as far as Zylah could tell.

Which meant—

Laydan was shoved to the ground beside her, a thrall crying out as it dug its nails into his ribs, pinning the witch beneath it. As she moved to pull it away, a hand fisted into her cloak and yanked her back, a human squeezing his other hand to her throat. Zylah elbowed him in the ribs, swinging around to drive her sword beneath his ribs and twisting up. His sigil glinted in the orblight as he fell into her, pressing a hand to his wound and wheezing as blood trickled from his mouth. Zylah pulled her sword free, pushing her assailant away and turning back to Laydan.

The witch screamed as the thrall sank its teeth into his abdomen, and a heartbeat later, the creature shrieked in agony and flung him aside. But Zylah couldn’t help Laydan, not yet. Two more humans were upon her, a man and a woman, both swiping blades at her. She drew them away from Laydan, just as Daizin’s shadow wolf emerged beside him, tearing into the thrall.

The humans were skilled with a sword, but with the training she’d had from her friends, it wasn’t difficult for Zylah to spot the weaknesses in their movements and expose them. She disarmed the woman, knocking her off balance to throw her into the man, his blade driving through the woman’s stomach. He barked in alarm, yanking the weapon back and turning it on Zylah, a wild gleam in his eyes as the woman fell beside him.

Beyond him, Daizin had forsaken his shadows for his Fae form, kneeling beside Laydan where he lay bleeding. She spared a glance at Holt, dead bodies scattered around him as he fought back more humans, and Zylah’s blood ran cold as another group entered the chamber, led by a man with eyes that were wholly black. A vampire.

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