Page 70 of A Legacy of Poison and Lies

“She can’t hear?” Zylah asked, realising he’d been signing like he had with Dalana back in Mae’s court.

“I’m not sure. But I don’t think she speaks.”

She didn’t need to ask to know he was thinking of his sister. And as she sat beside him with the little boy still in her arms, she couldn’t help but think about what he’d told her before she’d left Virian. That the female he’d been with had left him because she wanted children and he didn’t.

Zylah hadn’t pieced the two together before, but now she wondered if it had been because the loss of his sister had still been too raw.

“Adina used to play alone,” he said, his voice still quiet as more of the children started to settle.

“She’d be proud of you. Of what you’re trying to do.” Zylah didn’t doubt it for a moment. Hoped he could hear the truth of it in her words.

Holt tucked the blanket around the little girl, moving the blocks a safe distance away, but he didn’t reply. Whatever memory he was lost in, the grief that it had awoken, silently took over him for a moment.

Rin and Kej returned, arms full of supplies, and the moment to ask Holt about Adina was lost. She hadn’t wanted to pry, only for him to know that she understood the desire to talk about the people she’d lost.

To keep their memory alive.

Rin took the little boy from Zylah’s arms, handing over a small basket. “You haven’t eaten all day; it was the least we could do.”

“We’ll be back tomorrow,” Zylah said with a smile.

She was hungry, but she was used to the gnawing in her stomach. Preferred it to the ache of her emotions that she fought so hard to block out.

Holt held his hand out for the basket, but when she handed it to him, he’d evanesced them to another part of the court. “I used to come and hide here as a boy,” he said, by way of explanation, releasing Zylah’s hand. A blanket appeared in it a moment later, and Zylah gratefully shrugged it over her shoulders. She’d worked all day in her training clothes as Rin had been wearing hers too, but here, in the open cave Holt had brought them to, the breeze was cool against her skin.

“Rava comes here too?” Zylah asked, waving a hand at what looked like a large nest in the shadows behind them.

“Sometimes.” Holt handed her a roll of bread, still warm from the kitchens.

Kitchens that were overflowing, food no doubt wasted each day, when the humans they’d been treating looked half starved. As had most of the humans in every village and town she’d seen since leaving Virian.

Zylah turned the roll over in her hands. “Why is Malok so dismissive of you, if he let you come to his court to train year after year?”

“An agreement with my parents. But there were decisions they made that he didn’t approve of.”

“I thought you said they ultimately favoured Fae over humans?”

He looked out over the water, the wind blowing hair across his eyes. “They did, in the end. But it was already too late. Marcus had already intervened.”

“He killed them,” Zylah said quietly. “Your parents. Your sister. Even his own son. He’s taken so much from so many.” She frowned, picking at the bread as she thought about the humans, homeless now thanks to the thralls and in no less danger should Malok discover them.

Holt watched, arms folded, waiting for her to eat. Only when Zylah had finished the roll and he’d passed her a brin fruit did he say, “He’ll take much more before this is all over.”

For the first time, she wondered if there was a way to pull apart a bargain the same way she could lift the edges of a deceit. If there was a way to release Holt from whatever tied him to Marcus. She’d filled him in on everything Nye had shown her in the library whilst they’d made the tonics, and he’d listened quietly. And though she wanted to ask him now if he thought there was a connection between Marcus’s source of old magic and what Nye had explained, she decided against it. Whenever she brought up Marcus, he seemed to shut down, and that dark voice returned in her thoughts, whispering and taunting her.

“Truth number three,” she said, discarding the brin core over the drop before them. “My greatest fear is that you’re right.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Twoweekspassed,andthe snowstorm had still not relented. Two weeks for Zylah to pick through her thoughts, to train, to help Rin and Kej with the humans, to bury every feeling that tried to push its way to the surface. Two weeks of baylock tea and a mild tonic she’d managed to make from a few other ingredients sourced within the court, which had meant she hadn’t had to ask Holt for help again with her healing.

He was right, she’d realised, about Raif. She had loved him, even if it wasn’t the kind of love she’d wanted it to be, knew it could be. She didn’t think she’d ever forgive herself for that. But she’d accepted it. He was gone, and with whatever little time she had left in her life, she was prepared to pay for the lives that had been lost because of her. If retrieving Malok’s key took her closer to Marcus, she would find it, findhim, and make him pay for everything he’d done. For every life he’d taken, every life he’d destroyed.

Zylah sipped at her tea as she picked at the canna cake on her breakfast tray. One had appeared every morning since the meal with Arlan and Daven, and though Zylah suspected Holt had somehow got her favourite snack added to the court’s breakfast menu, neither of them brought it up during their time spent with the humans.

Kopi made a quiet murmur of satisfaction on the table before her, nuzzling up to her warm teapot. She’d made sure to leave him behind each day, intent on teaching herself not to rely on him but she suspected he sometimes followed her from a distance. Whatever Pallia had intended by sending him to her, something told Zylah it wouldn’t be long now before they were separated, and a quiet part of her knew that this time apart was as much for him as it had been for her.

With the bitter tea finished, Zylah ate the last of the canna cake as her reward and gave Kopi a gentle scratch on the head before leaving. She made her way to training, easing herself into her stretches as she waited for Nye to join her. A group of soldiers were practising in pairs, their blows staggering each other back across the balcony.

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