Page 45 of A Legacy of Wrath and Reckoning

“You did good,” he added, this time loud enough that anyone beside them would have heard it.

Zylah offered him a tight smile at his words. She knew he meant it, but even at the time, Jesper’s death had left her feeling hollow. And now, now, it was just another death in a long list of many, and there was nothing good about so much loss.

A stout, middle-aged woman worked a ladle in a large pot, filling bowls and handing them to any who passed. Zack led Zylah over, introducing her as his sister and handing her a bowl, the contents so thick the spoon he shoved into it remained upright. “We’re running short on supplies,” he admitted. “But we’re doing what we can. A friend of yours has been letting us raid the vegetable supplies in the botanical gardens, but we lost three soldiers to thralls the day before yesterday on their run.”

“Jilah’s here?”

Zack hummed. “The children too. The Fae that remain down here have limited abilities between them. None are left that can evanesce or heal.”

Because they were dead. Zylah didn’t want to linger on that. “Are there humans here who aren’t Black Veil?”

“We bring more refugees down every day; we’re almost at capacity. Luan, this is Zylah, my sister.” Zack greeted a young man with short black hair and dark shadows marring the pale skin beneath his eyes, a warm smile on his face as he offered Zylah a polite hello. “Zylah spent her life working in our father’s apothecary.”

Luan’s face lit up and he clapped his hands together. “That’s wonderful but, and forgive me for saying this, your eyes…”

Zylah turned her attention to the barrel beside him, the pestle and mortar he’d abandoned when Zack had approached. “You’re making anti-inflammatories,” she told him. “A pinch of nastura might make it a bit more potent.” She didn’t need her eyes to scent the ingredients, and she was fairly confident she could use a pestle and mortar in her sleep. Even if the contents were too difficult to discern with her new sight, the smell and the feel would be enough for her to work. “I can see well enough, just not the same way you do.”

Luan let out a quiet, “huh,” with no effort to hide the astonishment in his tone. “I could certainly use the extra pair of hands on my rounds.”

“Perfect,” Zack said beside them. “I’ll leave you to it. I have to—”

“Go,” Zylah told him, nudging him again with her elbow.

“Luan—”

“I’ll be fine, Zack. Go.”

Luan chuckled beside her. “He’s like a mother hen.” There was a warmth to his words, and though Zylah didn’t know him well enough to read into it, there was no missing the admiration in his tone. “I’ll just finish up here, then let’s get started.”

Rounds were not what Zylah had anticipated, though she hadn’t known exactly what to expect, either. They moved slowly through the tunnels, Luan’s disposition as bright with every human they met as it had been with Zack. He introduced her to everyone, making no secret of the fact she was Zack’s sister, and all were polite, though some regarded her with something akin to awe. Zylah suspected those were the ones who had heard about the attack on the mine.

The injuries were varied. Many were dehydrated, for which Luan administered a mix of minerals to add to the little fresh water they had. Zylah’s ability to summon had returned, but she’d only be stealing from someone else who likely needed it. Some humans had minor wounds from skirmishes, and a few lay in cots with severe injuries from thrall attacks. Thralls, because no human had survived an encounter with a vampire and returned to the safety of the tunnels.

Everyone asked for updates about General Niossa’s arrival; word of her scouts and their ability had spread and everyone seemed to cling to that fact to keep them going. Zylah didn’t need Luan to fill in the gaps for her; so far she’d only attended to injured humans, and there were Fae trapped down there too, spread out beneath the city.

“Most want to take back their homes,” Luan explained as they moved through a large chamber, farther away from the palace district. The space served as an armoury of sorts, weapons and armour stacked along the walls.

“Even the ones that were in hiding?” Zylah asked.

“There’s nothing like trauma to bring people together,” Luan said gently. “There were a few bumps in the first few days, but now, human-Fae interactions are much better. The Fae don’t use their deceits to hide themselves like they used to. We’re helping each other as much as possible. Cohabiting as well as we can.”

“Then why the separation? I understand the proximity to the vanquicite, but is there a reason to remain segregated?”

Luan shrugged. “Change takes time. But we’ll get there. Once this is all over, Virian could be an example of what humans and Fae living together peacefully could look like for the rest of Astaria.”

Another little flutter of hope danced in her chest. Humans and Fae, together. Free. Virian was only one city, but it had been the capital once. Perhaps it could be again.

“Why aren’t the tunnels overrun with vampires and their thralls?” Zylah asked him.

“Warded by our Fae friends. It makes them much easier to protect. And we think Marcus kept the tunnels a secret, even from Aurelia.” He handed her a brin fruit as they made their way across the city. “This was a much faster task when there were more medics.”

They were gone now, too, Zylah understood. But that Marcus kept the tunnels a secret,thatshe found much harder to believe. They’d moved so far from the palace district, Zylah could detect no traces of vanquicite anymore, and the first few Fae greeted Luan as they approached. High Fae and Lesser Fae all shared the space, wings and scaled skin and pointed ears, all just as happy to see Luan as the humans had been.

Zylah wondered what they made of her, her strange eyes and the scars that no doubt marred her skin, but the thought was cut short by a familiar face. “Jilah!” she called out to her old friend, the children hanging off him rushing over.

“You’re just like us,” Kihlan said.

“I always knew you were,” Niara added.

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