Page 47 of A Legacy of Poison and Lies

Not a creature.

A male Fae.

Or it had been, once. Zylah sucked in a breath as she realised its skin was not charred, but decayed, pieces of flesh missing entirely and exposing a mass of sinew and bone beneath. It smoothed a shaky hand over its skull as if it were used to there being hair there, as if it were a gesture it might have once made, and then it paused, frowned in confusion. As if it wasn’t sure how it had got there.

And then Zylah noticed the thing’s eyes. They were wholly black, like Jesper’s.

“Stand down!” Cirelle commanded as the guards took a step closer.

The creature’s head jerked towards the sound of Cirelle’s voice, the movement unnatural, head tilted to one side as if it were assessing prey.

“You will not harm me, will you, my friend?” She reached out a hand as Rin and Kej flanked her sides in their wildcat forms.

Zylah hadn’t even noticed them shift. Nye was gone too, but Holt remained beside her, arms folded, and this close she could feel the tension coiling in him.

“Come inside, Nevan, let us see to your wounds,” Cirelle said with a slight tremor in her voice. She took one more step, and the thing screamed. It was the same sound Zylah had heard back in the forest, the sound that had the Asters on edge.The Asters.A chill danced its way down her spine, and for the first time, Cirelle’s cool composure faltered. The Fae took a stumbling step back, hands smoothing the fabric of her dress to try and disguise the tremor in them.

The guards waited for a command, positioning themselves before Cirelle and Malok. Malok’s eyes were fixed on his wife, and Zylah wondered if something had transpired between her and the creature before it had become the thing it was before them. If Cirelle felt his attention on her, she didn’t meet her husband’s gaze.

Kopi called out a warning from his little alcove just as more decayed hands landed on the wall, and more of the strange creatures hauled themselves up over it. Guards sprang into action, swords swinging. The creatures were unnervingly fast, but Zylah needed a moment to observe, to look for any weaknesses she could exploit and a way to ensure she was a help rather than a hindrance. Rin and Kej dived into the mix, snapping and tearing at the creatures with teeth and claws and snarls, and a shard of fear wedged its way under Zylah’s ribs. The Asters were frightened of these creatures, and there was no time to warn anyone.

Holt evanesced into the fray, a sword appearing in his hand and driving through the chest of the thing before him. Only seconds had passed since Cirelle had beckoned to—what had she called him?—Nevan, yet the entire balcony was littered with entangled bodies and the clash of weapons.

Cirelle.Zylah blinked, calculating the distance between Cirelle and Nevan, who hadn’t taken his eyes off her. She evanesced just as Nevan charged, her wrist closing around Cirelle’s and pulling her through the aether. They reappeared a few steps away and watched as Malok swung a sword across Nevan’s middle.

Malok looked directly at his wife as he drove his blade through Nevan’s heart.

“Can I take you somewhere safe?” Zylah asked, her fingers still wrapped around Cirelle’s wrist, the Fae’s other hand pressed flat against her chest.

“I will not leave my children.” Cirelle snatched her wrist from Zylah’s grasp; surveyed the brawl as if she were about to throw herself into it.

“Can you fight?” Zylah flipped her dagger to the hilt and waited for Cirelle to make a decision.

The Fae nodded, fingers closing around the weapon and Zylah took that as her cue to leave her unattended. She unsheathed another dagger from her boot, evanescing behind one of the creatures as it clawed at a guard, and slammed her blade into its calf. The thing shrieked as she dragged the hilt down, black liquid oozing from the rotting flesh before she snatched her dagger and evanesced away.

All she could do was make use of what she had: her dagger and her evanescing, and that meant small, quick cuts, in and out, moving between the aether, between bodies, between the Fae and strange creatures, helping whoever she could with fast, precise blows of her blade. Buying them precious seconds in the hope it was enough to help tip the balance against the strange beasts.

She moved until sweat dampened her tunic, until her breathing became heavy and her chest tight and her back burned with the effort.

One of the wildcats cried out, and Zylah didn’t have time to think, just evanesced to the creature clawing at it, her hand reaching for the ghastly thing even as she reappeared. Her fingers closed around the rotting flesh at its wrist, and before it could even turn to face her, she evanesced them both across the wall, over the churning ocean below to release it before evanescing back to the wounded Fae. The manoeuvre hadn’t even covered the span of a blink, and just as well, or she’d have followed the creature tumbling to its death in the roiling water below.

“Aerin,” Cirelle called out, rushing to her daughter’s side. The Fae pressed a hand to Rin’s flank, blood seeping too quickly through her fingers.

Zylah was already lightheaded from the evanescing, had already succumbed to the throbbing pain in her back, but there was too much blood, Aerin’s breaths coming out heavy and wet.

So Zylah sucked in a shaky breath and pressed her hand over Cirelle’s. “Here.”

Pain bloomed through her shoulder blades, through her chest and into her heart as she summoned her power, willing the healing magic to flow from her to Rin. The grey fur was almost entirely crimson beyond Cirelle’s hand, the jagged edges of a wound visible beyond the Fae’s fingertips. Even as tears ran down her cheeks, she kept one hand pressed over the wound, one hand gently stroking the soft fur.

Zylah sighed as the magic poured from her, as the flow of blood ceased. She was vaguely aware of things slowing around them, of Malok barking commands at his guards. Kopi landed on her shoulder, burbling his comforting noises, and it was enough of a reminder to Zylah to stay present, to not let herself sway and sink into the stone beneath her, no matter how much she wanted to. The wound had been deep; her magic still pulled from her to fix it.

Kej rushed to his sister’s side, fingers stroking through her fur, eyes darting from Zylah’s hands over his mother’s fingers to Zylah’s face. “Thank you,” he said breathlessly, blood splattered across his cheek.

She nodded, too exhausted to speak. Only when she was certain the last of the damage had been repaired did she remove her hands, pressing them to the stone beside her to keep herself upright.

Rin made a sound somewhere between a purr and a rumble in the back of her throat, her nose nudging against Zylah’s knee.

“Don’t shift yet,” Kej said quietly, scratching a finger behind his sister’s ear. “Give yourself a minute.”

---