Page 56 of A Legacy of Poison and Lies

“We’ll have Maelissa’s archers when the time comes,” Holt offered. “Wariscoming, Malok, you cannot hide here at the edge of the continent and deny it.”

The High Lord looked as if he might interject, but Holt cut him off. “I have always respected you, Malok, but do not stand by and let the world burn. Your children will leave whether you permit it or not. Let them leave with pride in their hearts. With the reassurance and backing of their father.”

Malok held his glass, swirling his drink as if lost in thought. “We’ve no evidence arrenium will work against the vampires or their thralls,” he said, all but dismissing Holt’s words. “My spies are looking for an item that once belonged to this court. A key to a device built by Imala herself, a shield to protect the people within the court should they need it. I believe it will be all the defence we’ll need against these abominations.”

And there it was. He would defend his own, but he would not venture out into the rest of the continent. Would not offer aid to others who were not so fortunate as to live in a fortress like he did. Zylah didn’t miss the flicker of disappointment that passed across Holt’s face before he shut it down. But it had been enough, and no matter what she thought of Malok, she couldn’t bear Holt’s disappointment.

“My father often spoke to me about legacy,” Zylah said to Malok. “About what will be left of us long after we are gone from this world. You said you will not send your children off to certain death, but if you think that they are safe here, or that they will stay and do nothing simply because you are too afraid to, I can see my father had more in common with Jora than with you.”

If he was a male who cared about pride, his father’s opinion should’ve meant something to him. At least, Zylah was counting on it.

Malok held her gaze for a moment. “You may stay here until the storm shifts, but when it does, you’d do well to move north in your search for aid.” He raised his glass, and the movement sent another surge of the familiar scent into the air.

Zylah lunged forwards, smacking the glass from his hand and letting it smash to the floor. Holt picked up his glass and took a sniff, an eyebrow raised as he waited for an explanation.

“Agera,” Zylah said, tipping the contents of her own glass to the floor. “It causes rapid heart failure.”

Malok was silent, but this time he made no effort to disguise the surprise that danced across his face.

“It’s gracious of you to offer up your court to us,” Zylah said, placing her glass on the table. “But it looks like you have plenty to resolve here.” She made to leave, but Malok stopped her.

“Wait. Your mix of abilities makes you uniquely positioned to retrieve the key. When my people locate it, if you bring it to me, I’ll hand over my army. Holt will have whatever resources he needs at his disposal. This at least guarantees the safety of those that wish to remain in my court.”

Zylah didn’t let her satisfaction show. “And Selas and his companions? Will I be looking over my shoulder every time I walk through the court?”

“Niossa will be your personal guard.” Nye, Zylah presumed.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Malok. But I don’t need minding like some helpless child. I could have quite easily killed Selas and his friends, but I chose not to.”

She let the words settle.

She wasn’t certain she could have killed all three of them, but he didn’t need to know that. “I’ll stay. But only so that you give him what he deserves,” she added, flicking her chin at Holt. “Not for your key.”

Kopi landed on the window, and Zylah resisted the urge to ask him where he’d been. She held her arm out for him instead, and he flew over to assume his position on her wrist as she again turned to leave. Malok said nothing to her offer, but Zylah knew it was pride holding his tongue.

Holt broke the silence. “If anyone else touches her in this court I’ll kill them myself.” A vicious calm seemed to settle over him as he looked at Malok. Too still.

Zylah willed herself not to smile at the moment of fear that passed over Malok’s face. Instead, she excused herself, Holt’s words echoing in her head as she made her way back to her room.

Chapter Nineteen

Nyehadagreedtotraining as a compromise when Zylah refused Malok’s offer of a personal guard.

“If it keeps him off your back,” Zylah said as they made their way through the court together the next morning, “And Pallia knows I need it.”

She could hold her own. Would have been able to hold her own back in Varda had it not been for that cheating Fae. Even before Raif and Holt had trained her for those few months back in Virian, her brother had given her enough of the basics to get herself out of trouble.

But Zylah knew it would take many more months of dedicated practice to develop the kind of skill, the precision with which they moved. Years, even.

Nye nodded, leading the way through the court. Zylah had left Kopi asleep in her room, determined not to rely on him as her personal alarm. He wasn’t hers, and he could choose to leave at any moment, just as easily as he had chosen to stay.

This early in the morning, thin shafts of golden sunlight sliced across the corridors, dust motes dancing in the air.

The ocean sparkled beyond the arched windows, bright and dazzling beyond the white stone, and Zylah thought of Cirelle’s court across the sea, of the story she’d told of her father.

The half a brin fruit she’d managed to eat for breakfast threatened to force its way up from her stomach as a wave of pain rolled through her, but she gritted her teeth together and inhaled through her nose until it passed, hoping Nye wouldn’t notice. She had some baylock in her pocket but didn’t want to risk slipping any into her mouth just yet. Not under Nye’s watchful gaze.

The Fae had given her another bundle of clothes the night before, attire more suited to training, she’d explained. Zylah dragged a hand across her exposed stomach, brushing the hem of the lilac top that wrapped across her breasts and over her shoulders.

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