Page 27 of A Legacy of Poison and Lies

“You recognise it?” Okwata asked.

“I… no. Just something about the name seems familiar.” She turned through more pages, her fingers tracing across the strange markings on the page, tapping her finger against a familiar one. “These symbols. I’ve seen them before.” In Raif’s library, a book on his shelf.

“This book cannot be read without a key to the symbols within it,” Okwata told her.

“The one I saw was full of symbols too. I didn’t understand any of it.” Zylah didn’t need to look up to know that Okwata was watching her carefully, but she hadn’t decided whether she trusted him or his companion yet.

“Can you retrieve this book?”

“I can’t, but Holt might be able to.”

“Describe it to me,” Holt said from the doorway, pulling out a seat opposite her. His gaze slid to the untouched brin fruit on her plate.

“It’s called Song and Shadow. Dark red leather cover, half the thickness of this, gold lettering on the front. It’s on…” Zylah swallowed. “On the shelf in Raif’s library. Third shelf from the bottom, closest to the bed.”

Holt nodded and rested his hand on the table, palm up. “Either it’s warded, or it isn’t there.”

“Both are likely. Marcus is searching for that book,” Ellisar explained.

Zylah didn’t need another reason to want Marcus dead, but the fact that he sought a book that Raif merely could have handed over to him sent a slice of white-hot rage through her. She resisted the urge to stab at the pieces of fruit on her plate, wishing she could take her sword and drive it through his heart instead.

Holt reached for a brin fruit, rolling it in his palm as his gaze flicked to Zylah’s plate again. “And where did you come across it?”

Okwata smiled and clasped his hands in front of him. “A tale for another time, perhaps. Zylah, Ahrek and I are going into the forest today for the nastura, I’d be most grateful if you joined us.”

Kopi flew up to Zylah’s shoulder. She almost looked at Holt for permission, despite how out of place she felt amongst them all. He had to speak with Maelissa, and she had no desire to be part of that discussion.

“You seem familiar, little one. Have we met before?” Okwata asked Kopi.

Kopi hooed in response, and it was enough to quell Zylah’s apprehension. “We’d be happy to go with you. Kopi needs to stretch his wings.”

A feeble excuse, but Zylah needed to get away from the suffocating air of Maelissa’s court. And sitting around all day waiting appealed to her about as much as driving her knife through her hand. Better to be useful, and to find out whatever she could about Okwata and Ahrek at the same time.

Ahrek had barely said a word, but Zylah didn’t miss the way he watched everyone’s movements, the way he sat like a cat ready to pounce.

“Take some of our water too,” Ellisar said. “It will save you having to spell yourselves regularly. It conceals sound and scent, lesser acts of magic. It keeps us hidden here, anyway.”

Zylah tried to disguise her sharp inhale. “Are you telling me we could have just had the water when we arrived?”

“Maelissa is fond of tradition,” Holt murmured.

Ellisar laughed. “Come now. You and I both know she just enjoys making people feel vulnerable before they enter her court. It was the Hall of Hallows before, now it’s that blasted pool.”

Zylah stared at her brin fruit. She’d already seen and heard enough of Maelissa to know precisely what kind of Fae she was. She excused herself from the table, the memory of Raif’s bedroom still occupying her thoughts, wishing the emptiness inside her would swallow her whole.

She barely heard Ellisar’s instructions, only offered a blank smile and let her feet carry her back to her room. Her reflection stared back at her from every mirror, a monster lurking within the glass.

The first snow was yet to fall as Zylah followed Ahrek’s and Okwata’s horses back to Maelissa’s court. She focused on preparing the moss she’d collected for Ellisar and Lana, as a thank you for offering up their home. This particular moss was excellent for thickening stews and covering grazed knees and scrapes for the children—abundant, but entirely useful. She’d located the nastura for Lana’s sister and gathered a few mushrooms and herbs to gift to the family, too. Anything to keep her mind off Holt’s meeting with Maelissa, of whether he’d secured her help or not.

“Who taught you about plants?” Ahrek asked as they approached the waterfall.

He’d been quiet throughout the day, silently observing as she and Okwata discussed plants and their remedies.

“My father. Me.” More than one pair of eyes watched them from amongst the trees. Sprites.

Ahrek followed her gaze. “They’ve been following you all day.”

Zylah said nothing, only watched the eyes staring back at them. Kopi was ahead somewhere, undisturbed by the sprites’ presence. If they truly were forest spirits, she wished she knew what compelled them to act, and what held them at bay. Why they hadn’t helped when—

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