Page 75 of A Legacy of Poison and Lies

They’d walked for hours before making it out of the pass. The thralls had long since gone quiet, and the snow had stopped shortly after it started, just enough to cover up their tracks, as if Pallia herself had sent them a momentary blizzard. Some quiet part of Zylah wondered if she had.

But her feet had barely hit solid ground when a distant cry halted her steps. A thrall. Holt mounted their horse without a word passing between them, pulling her up into the saddle before him and urging their mare through the forest. They ran until the light began to fade, until the shadows between trees became a dense grey, until the pain from riding had Zylah sagging forward in the saddle.

Holt’s arm slid around her waist, pressing her tightly against him, and again she thought of how he’d refused to evanesce.

All magic left a trace.

Marcus was likely tracking his movements if Malok’s and Cirelle’s comments were to be believed. But if that were true, what reason had he given Marcus to leave him in the first place? Her thoughts were sluggish, the words slipping away from her. Their mare jumped a small log and the impact had Zylah gritting her teeth together, fingers reaching for Holt’s hand and squeezing tight.

Within moments she felt the familiar prickling of his magic, his power sliding into her bones, easing her aching body. But something about it felt different this time. As if he didn’t even realise he was doing it. Or maybe he did, and he was just too focused to notice.

The horse slowed as Holt tugged gently at the reins, its hot breath clouding the air.

“Back in Virian,” Zylah asked, her voice barely a whisper over the horse’s snorting. “When Marcus made you wear the vanquicite cuffs. Did he touch them?” Her thoughts were still a little muddied, but the question had been nagging at her for a while now.

Holt was quiet, listening for any sign of the thralls, Zylah assumed, his arm still bracketing her close to him.

“Did he touch them?” she asked again.

His voice was clipped, pained, almost. “Why do you ask?”

“Because they didn’t affect his abilities.” She scanned the forest for any movement, Kopi wriggling his way out of her hood and jumping down onto the mare’s head. “He still used his magic on you. How?”

Holt shifted behind her. “He must have built up a tolerance to it.”

Zylah frowned. She supposed it was possible. But… “What is it that he holds over you? It’s more than a debt, isn’t it?” Not just the life debt for his sister, there was more, she was certain. Malok’s and Cirelle’s comments back in the Aquaris Court had confirmed her suspicions.

Holt was quiet for a while, so quiet she thought he might not answer her. Until at last, he said, “Itismore, Zylah. More than a debt, a bargain. He owns me.”

“Hearts cannot be owned,” she said, twisting round to look up at him.

His gaze dipped for a moment before his eyes lifted to meet hers. “No, they can’t.”

She tried not to think about the solidness of him, or the way their bodies were pressed together. Tried to not to let her attention drift to his mouth and failed.

Kopi hooed and Zylah turned to see him fly off between the trees.

Marcus had taken so much from them. But from Holt, he’d taken everything. His family. His friends. His freedom. “I know you think you’re protecting me,” she said, once darkness had long since covered everything. “But I want to help you. With Marcus.”

Holt remained silent.

“And I know I’ve made some stupid decisions—what happened with Asha back in Virian—but you can trust me, Holt.”

“I do,” was all he said behind her.

Zylah’s stomach twisted. She didn’t want to press him if he didn’t want to discuss it, so she said, “I think I might be able to offer some help with the mine.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I have a theory that needs testing. But first, we’ll need an accelerant.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “Always full of surprises. Did you share your idea with Nye? She’s likely to have some knowledge in that area.”

“No, but she’s taught me a few good tricks over the last couple of weeks. I think I could bring even you to your knees.” Gods, she hadn’t intended that to sound so—but Holt chuckled quietly behind her.

“You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?” His low laugh rumbled through every inch of her, heat pooling low in her belly. She couldn’t shake the thought of him on his knees before her. Not with his warmth enveloping her, his arm wrapped around her, holding her steady. She was too tired to feel guilty. Too exhausted to lock her feelings away in that part of her that she tried to ignore. Had tried to overlook for so long.

The forest was quiet, only the crunch of their horse’s hooves in the snow and its breathing breaking the silence, the occasional sprite darting out ahead of them. With her heightened half Fae sight she could make out the tops of barrows beyond the trees, fresh flowers scattered around their entrances. She wondered if her father had a space in his barrow beside his wife. If her birth parents lay side by side in a barrow together somewhere in the dark, or just the human one of the pair.

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