Page 29 of A Legacy of Wrath and Reckoning

Not that she could truly see the gesture, more their unique signatures. Kopi’s was brighter, Kej’s a bit smoky at the edges, something to do with his shifting abilities, Zylah suspected. Hints of colour, like Kopi’s peppered feathers, Kej’s rich brown skin, the dark blue of his tunic. Still hazy, but there. A big part of what she couldseewas more what she could feel, from what she understood of her magic, little pieces adding up to make a whole that she saw with her mind’s eye.

“What happened to Imala?” Zylah only knew the version she’d been taught as a human who believed the original Fae to be gods, that Imala had died during childbirth.

Kej shrugged, ripples of that smoke-but-not-smoke rising from his shoulders with the movement. “I was never one for history lessons.”

Zylah wasn’t surprised. But she wondered what Imala had made of it all, of Arioch and Sira. And it made her think of Raif’s sister, Rose, and the mate she’d rejected, Thallan. The wildness in Thallan’s eyes, the desperation when he’d asked after Rose.

“I’ll have to ask Nye if she ever read anything about it in the library. She’s obsessed with those books,” Kej added.

If only they could get hold of the book Laydan stole and its twin from Raif’s library. Not that Zylah expected them to hold all of Ranon’s secrets, but they were important enough to steal, important enough that Aurelia needed them to free her father.

“Hey.” A hand touched her elbow. “You seem distracted today. Everything okay?” That explained his constant questioning. “I haven’t asked about Holt because I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk about him,” Kej went on. “But we can, if you’d like. You know he’s family to me.”

Is.Not was. Zylah could have hugged her friend for that, but she rested a hand over his instead. “He’s out there, Kej.” She wanted to say more, to hear whatever stories Kej could offer up about Holt’s time at the Aquaris Court, but a wave of magic drew her attention. “Daizin’s on his way back.”

Which could mean nothing good. Over the last few days, he and Kej had alternated which one of them went on ahead, their only reason to return if they needed to divert the route. His shadows found them first, and since it was easier for Zylah toseemagic, she caught the moment his shadow wolf shifted into a male before them.

“Thralls. Three, I think,” Daizin said between breaths, like he’d pushed himself to run as fast as possible. “No sign of a vampire, but…” But they usually weren’t far away. “We should be fine if we head east for a while. Maybe we can stay in a decent bed for the night if we make it close to Iskia.”

They’d been heading south, along the eastern edge of the Rinian Mountain range in the hopes of avoiding prying eyes from Dalstead and the surrounding villages, which made it even more strange to encounter any thralls at all.

“We’ll go slow,” Kej told him, already moving away to settle into his shift, but Daizin reached out, shadows curling around smoke, and the shifter paused.

“Tight circles,” Daizin warned, the words almost a plea. “Don’t go too far.”

Kej chuckled. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Wolf.” Then the smoke shifted, followed by the thud of paws bounding away.

“He’ll be fine,” Daizin murmured to himself.

“He will,” Zylah reassured him. “He can hold his own.”

“He was badly injured in the mine attack.” His voice was distant, like he was reliving the memory all over again. “I’d have torn Jesper’s head from his body if you hadn’t killed him so spectacularly over the lake.”

“You saw that?”

A hum of acknowledgement. “Right before Enalla came for Kej. A priestess almost took out the scout. Their magic is strange, not like ours. Spells, Nye thinks.”

Zylah recalled the glow of the priestess’s magic. If they were truly Sira’s, they were all witches, like Laydan. Aurelia still believed her mother to be dead, and though Zylah hated the idea of it, it was something she could use to her advantage the next time she saw Raif’s mother.

Daizin led the way east; though Zylah no longer needed assistance to traverse the snow, she accepted it. He was distracted, pausing often to listen for any sign of thralls. Kopi remained close by, sometimes circling back around to check in with them, the little owl on alert, too.

“Kerthen feels like a strange spot to set up a military camp,” she said after a while, hoping to ease some of the tension that had Daizin wound so tight.

A quiet laugh from the Fae. “You don’t seem like the sort to be scared by a few ghost stories.”

It was Zylah’s turn to laugh. “They’re not stories. I spent months there getting acquainted with what the forest has to offer. All of it very, very real.”

Daizin was quiet, but she felt his gaze on her. “Then you of all people know why Nye picked the location.”

It was a smart move, if not a dangerous one. To deter anyone from stumbling upon the camp. Zylah tried not to think of her time in Kerthen, of the bargain she’d made when she was in so much pain she’d have given anything to ease it. If it had truly been Sira she’d met back in the shop in Morren, the not-quite-Fae who’d been all but trapped there, it couldn’t have been Sira she’d bargained with in Kerthen, too.

A chill wind blew, and Zylah tried to shake away the shiver that danced down her spine. “Kerthen sounds like it’s got nothing right now on Virian.”

“Arlan’s plan of attacking the palace got my vote. Your brother’s idea, Kej told me. I had friends living in the city, and the thought of them in those vanquicite cells boils my blood.”

Zylah stilled. She hadn’t discussed the cells with anyone. But it was another reason for her to believe Holt was alive, another explanation to cling to, her dreams of black bars still harshly vivid in her thoughts.

“Zylah?”

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