Page 69 of A Legacy of Wrath and Reckoning

“But then I would have missed Ahrek’s glorious reaction. This is my first attempt.” Okwata’s sepia hand rested over hers. “But I must warn you: there’s a risk of causing more damage.”

Holt tensed beside her but said nothing, scribbling a few notes for Okwata and Nye on the corner of the schematics with one of their discarded pencils.

Zylah thumbed off the cork and sniffed at the contents, scrunching her nose at the pungent odour. “All I can see with my eyes right now is shadow and light.” She tugged the cloth from her eyes to her neck, her other sight overlaying the shadows and glow from the orblights dotted around the tent. With a tilt of her head, she downed the contents, expecting stinging, burning, anything. But nothing happened.

Okwata waved a hand over her eyes, and she tracked the movement, waiting. “Well. That’s a good start. Now we can move onto drops for our second attempt. You feel well? No pain?”

Zylah shook her head. “But I can feel…” She pressed a hand to her chest, and she could have sworn Holt was holding his breath beside her. “I can feel my magic suspending the venom. I think the same way it’s suspended in my eyes.”

“Good. Your body will expel it. That’s a good sign, Zylah, thank you for trusting me. Now, I must confess I have a favour to ask of you in return.”

He explained about the tests he’d been carrying out on a piece of vanquicite, the small but important detail about it having no effect on him because he wasn’t Fae left for both Zylah and Holt to discern. “The magic within vanquicite is imbued directly into the stone at source, from the very earth it was mined from. If we’re to find a way to nullify it, we’ll need someone to test it on first.” He paused, letting those statements sink in. But Zylah already knew she was the obvious choice, given her history with the material, her entire life spent with a piece of it fused to her spine. “I understand it’s a lot to ask, given both of your histories with the material and the effects it has on your kind.”

Both.

“I’ll do it,” Holt said.

Zylah shot him a glare that even with her eyes clouded over would have been unmistakable, but he ignored it. “We’ll both do it,” she told Okwata, pulling the cloth back over her eyes. “Two data points are going to be better than one, right?”

“Correct,” Okwata said, offering her a dip of his chin in thanks.

“You’re familiar with Seraphim?” she asked him before Holt could protest.

“I am. And… perhaps it is an overstep, but I have experience with mechanical wings. Not a substitute for the real thing, of course, but I imagine Arioch misses flight after so many years without them. I’d be glad to build him a pair if I can find the right materials.”

“I think he would love that.”

Zylah turned her attention to the tent opening as Ahrek entered, his expression softening as his gaze landed on Okwata.

“Good evening,” the male offered politely, one hand squeezing Okwata’s shoulder, the other resting on the back of the wheelchair. “If this can wait, I’m stealing you away for evening meal.”

Okwata laughed softly. “Didn’t we just eat?”

“That was breakfast, and you left your lunch, so I’m told.”

“Guilty. Zylah, Holt. A pleasure as always. I look forward to our first test.” He patted Ahrek’s hand at his shoulder, the male manoeuvring his chair without another word and both of them leaving the tent.

“What are they?” Holt asked quietly, leaning against the table beside her, arms folded over his chest.

Zylah sighed, another rub at her temples. “Travellers.” She glanced up at him, at the scowl pinching his brow together. “Do you remember? We met them together at Maelissa’s court.”

Holt tilted his head as if he were sifting through memories. “No,” he admitted. “I’ll do the testing.” He raised a hand when Zylah opened her mouth to protest. “I have to tell Nye that I’m still a liability, that I can’t be part of something I’ve been working on for decades because I’m a risk to the whole operation.”

There was no denying the bitterness in his tone.

“We’ll try again,” she told him. “Now, if you’d like.”

“You’re exhausted, Zylah. We both are.”

It seemed as though he meant more, but she couldn’t be certain. Like he didn’t want her in his memories again. But then she thought back to that morning, to his words and the way he’d made her come undone.

Holt shifted, one hand resting over hers as she rubbed at her temple again. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear just as Kej barged into the tent, whooping at the sight of them.

“Fuck me. The tension is so thick in here I could cut it with a knife.” He threw an arm around each of them, somehow manoeuvring himself into a non-existent space between their bodies. “The good kind, right?” he asked, elbowing Holt. “Speaking of fucking, the three of us could work pretty well, don’t you think?”

“Kejin,” Holt warned, and the Fae smirked in response, producing a bottle of wine from a hidden pocket in his jacket.

“Well, our mission was successful, thank you for asking,” Kej said, taking a swig. “Arreniumisharmful to bloodsuckers. Burns their skin rather spectacularly.” A brief grimace, and he shook his head. “So your trip to Maelissa’s has a thumbs up from the boss.” Byboss, Zylah presumed he meant his cousin. Kej glanced up and down between them. “Four arms and four legs. Your mission was also a success, I take it?”

---