Page 73 of A Legacy of Poison and Lies

“We kind of are, sis,” Kej said with a grin, elbowing his sister gently.

Though she’d pushed Malok, Zylah wouldn’t fail them in this. Finding the ingredients for Cirelle would be a priority, and she knew Holt would agree with her even without asking. “We’ll send the ingredients as soon as we have them,” she offered as reassuringly as she could.

Rin pushed herself from her seat, throwing her arms around Zylah’s neck and pulling her in for a crushing hug. “If you find anything in the snow, it’ll be a miracle. Stay safe, both of you.”

“Body heat is the best way to stay warm out there,” Kej said with a wink, already on his feet too, one arm draping over Zylah’s shoulder in his best attempt at casual indifference. But Zylah knew he was deflecting, covering up his concern for his mother the only way he knew how.

“We’re researching all we can about the thralls, and I’ll continue looking into your book during your absence,” Nye said.

Zylah heard the silent plea in Nye’s words, though she knew the Fae would never ask. Cirelle was her aunt, and Zylah knew she cared for her deeply. After almost a month in this court, Zylah knew the three Fae before her would do anything for each other, for their family.

And though Malok had made a bargain with her, one that couldn’t be broken, dread still sang through her bones. Because something told her if there was a way out of their agreement, he would find it.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Thiswouldbeawhole lot quicker if we could evanesce.” Zylah patted her horse’s neck reassuringly as it made its way along a narrow path. These weren’t the horses they’d arrived at the Aquaris Court with; Nye had told them they’d never survive the journey if they took them. In their place she’d given them two of Malok’s finest draft mares; all thick muscle and twice the size of a regular horse, their limbs and bodies better suited for trekking through the snow.

“I’m not testing the limits of the spell until we have to,” Holt said from his spot behind her. They’d managed to leave during a break in the storm, but judging by the thick clouds moving closer, they didn’t have long before it started again.

Zylah shrank deeper into the fur-lined coat Nye had given her, the hood concealing her hair and sheltering her from the worst of the wind. They’d barely been travelling for half a day, and already she’d had half a flask of her baylock tea. She’d forgotten how painful riding had been before, the vanquicite scraping against her spine with each step her horse took. But Zylah was better prepared this time.

They were heading west along the south coast; the slower route, but the one least likely to bring them face-to-face with any thralls. Or so they hoped. She thought about the spell they were using, the one that concealed them, sight and scent. The snow would cover their tracks, but it hadn’t snowed since they’d left the court, and although they’d covered more ground because of it, it left them vulnerable. Zylah had remained on alert since the moment they’d left the safety of the court.

A thought had been nagging at her, about Marcus using old magic. Of Aurelia’s creation of the vampires. Of why she’d let her children believe she was dead. What was it they were all missing?

Her stomach grumbled unceremoniously as they paused to let the horses rest for a moment. They didn’t dismount; the rocky path was too narrow. One misstep and the drop would lose them a horse. The route was an old one used by traders, Nye had told her, and though Zylah knew it was the safest option to avoid the thralls, every stumble of her horse made her wish for the safety of the forest far below them. She’d studied enough maps in the last few months to know that this edge of the coast was mostly crag, the ocean somewhere beyond the rocky bluff above them.

Holt tossed her a canna cake, pulling her from her thoughts.

“Don’t tell me you baked it?” she asked, watching Kopi fly off into the grey.

“I asked in the kitchens if they could make us a few.”

It was one of the only things she could keep down lately, and she had a feeling he knew that, from the way he was always bringing her things to eat, as if he were exploring what she could stomach. The horses stood side by side on the narrow path, Holt’s mare leaning across to nibble at the mountain grass peeking through the snow, hers tucked up against the rock.

The last two weeks looking after the humans had given her a sense of purpose she hadn’t had in a while. She still felt the bone-deep tiredness, but some of the dark thoughts had grown quiet throughout the days that had passed, hands taking over and pulling her into the familiar rhythm of work. She took a swig of her tea, wishing she’d brewed a second canister.

“Why do you drink that?” Holt asked beside her.

“I love the taste,” she said, flashing him a grin.

“Liar.” The corner of his mouth twitched as he held out a hand for the canister, waiting.

Zylah took a deep breath and handed it to him. Waited as he took a swig.

To his credit, he didn’t react to the awful taste, other than to raise an eyebrow in question.

“It dulls the pain,” she admitted, because she wouldn’t keep lying by omission.

“We’ve been over this.” There was no trace of anger in his tone this time, nothing but patience in his eyes.

“I know.” Wind blew wisps of hair across his eyes and he swiped it away, waiting for her to continue. She offered a small smile. “But it’s not going to happen all at once. Not everyone has as much discipline and self-control as you.”

One eyebrow raised, and she could have sworn he was fighting a smile. “Is that what you think? That there’s no limit to my self-restraint?”

“Is there?”

That earned her a half smile. “Keep fighting me on this and you’ll find out.”

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