Page 50 of A Legacy of Wrath and Reckoning

“I know Ranon’s maze is the last place you’d want to return to,” Nye continued. “But we can’t risk losing access to that kind of knowledge. Or history.”

Access. Like he was a book from her library. Zylah knew her friend hadn’t meant it, that Nye was only thinking like a general should, but Arioch had suffered long enough. “I made a promise,” she said. “I intend to keep it. When we’re done here, I’ll return for him.”

Nye seemed content with that. “Go find Deyna.” She glanced at Holt. “Both of you. Or you can both sit tomorrow out.”

If Zylah’s eyes weren’t bound, she would have rolled them at Nye’s fussing. Holt followed her without dispute, pulling the door to Zack’s room closed behind him, no doubt leaving her friends to have a collectivewhat the fuckover his predicament.

There were far fewer soldiers out in the tunnels than there had been before their meeting had begun, bedrolls and personal belongings all gone, and Zylah allowed herself a small smile at the thought of Nye’s scouts permitting the humans their small comforts. Jilah and the children would have already left; she’d said her goodbyes to them earlier, a quiet whisper to the children of all the best places in the Aquaris Court to play hide and seek.

“You were in Ranon’s maze?” Holt asked as they made their way towards Luan’s makeshift infirmary, where Deyna would have been treating those too weak to be evanesced away.

Zylah had to force herself to lean away from him, to not curl her body towards his, no matter how much she ached to do it. She hummed at his question. “You’re skipping ahead in the story.”

“Can’t we make an exception just this once? Only if you want to, of course.”

She felt his attention on her again, hating that she couldn’t meet his eyes with her own. “Agree to let Deyna see to you first, and I’ll tell you.”

Holt chuckled beside her. “As you wish.”

A scout gathered another group of humans ahead of them, five in total, hands reaching out to hold onto the Fae as he instructed, one of them shuffling back before another squeezed his shoulder in reassurance, and in the span of a breath, they were gone. But Holt didn’t move on, waiting for Zylah to speak.

“I was… held there, to begin with,” she said quietly, the earthy, woody scent of the room Raif had kept her in, the moss of the makeshift bed she’d slept on for weeks flooding her senses. She willed herself not to recall his scent, forcing her breaths to come out measured, steady, one after the other. “Aurelia used me to release her father.”

“How?”

“My blood.” She didn’t mention that Pallia was her grandmother. The information felt worthless when blood was the only thing that bound them and nothing else. “And when I finally awoke in Ranon’s maze,” Zylah swallowed, “Raif was there.” She raised a hand towards Holt’s chest, pulling it away when she remembered herself. “After.”

“After he drove a vanquicite sword through my chest.”

Zylah nodded, because she didn’t think she could speak. For once, she was glad of the cloth covering her eyes.

“An inch to the left and it would have gone right through my heart,” Holt admitted.

Zylah had to keep moving, anything to stop herself from reaching for him. “I thought it did,” she whispered as they approached the infirmary, the scent of celandia and ash root cutting the air.

A number of cots had emptied, Zylah noted with relief, though far too many remained occupied.

Deyna waved them over as they approached. “Look at you both,” she tsked. “Sit.”

Zylah gestured for Holt to sit, giving him and Deyna space to talk privately, busying herself with helping Luan and tending to the other patients. By the time she’d finished with Luan and Deyna beckoned her over, Holt was gone.

“Tell me,” Zylah said quietly. She knew Deyna would understand the question wasn’t about her eyes.

The witch blew out a breath between pursed lips, dark blue eyes roving over Zylah’s face. “I won’t lie to you. I’ve no way of knowing if the damage can be reversed. Aurelia’s abilities are strong, and there are so many gaps for him. But, Zylah”—Deyna took her hand—“I may not be Fae. But I know this kind of bond can only be broken by those who made it.”

Zylah’s breath stuttered, and she pressed a hand to her chest as if she might stop the spread of pain blooming beneath her ribs, stop her heart from shattering at what the healer was suggesting. Rose had rejected Thallan. Which meant… “Holt rejected the bond?”

Deyna cocked her head. “Could. I think you’d already have your answer if he had. Whatever they did to him has wrapped it up in so many layers of pain, I think whatever he feels between the two of you is as foreign as it is familiar at this point.” The witch squeezed her hand. “He’s suffering, and if you could choose to simply let your pain go, wouldn’t you?”

Zylah bit down on her lip, willing her emotions down when all she wanted to do was scream at the injustice of it. All she could do was nod. She was no stranger to concealing her feelings, though it was Holt who’d been the one to make her realise that she was delaying the inevitable, that she would have to let it all in eventually.

But this… this was different. This was for him. And Zylah would bury her love for him as long as it took if it meant taking away his suffering.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Holt’sabilitytosummonitems returned not long before they made their way above ground. A brin fruit, of all things, from Jilah’s orchard in the botanical gardens. He’d handed it to Zylah, a soft smile on his face that had her heart soaring. A smile that was pure elation that he’d found a little piece of himself, despite everything.

Zylah had kept to herself that her ability to evanesce had returned to her, unwilling to take away from his moment of joy. But it also confirmed her suspicion: their healing was tied to each other’s.

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