Page 54 of A Legacy of Wrath and Reckoning

Zylah’s hands didn’t cease moving; she wouldn’t, not until she found the wound to staunch it. “Your family needs you. Your army needs you.”

“Tell Rin and Kej…”

“You fucking tell them yourself!” Zylah snapped, the sticky wetness of blood coating her fingertips as her hands came over Nye and put pressure on the wound to her gut. “Call out to Daizin or whatever it is the two of you can do. Tell him where we are. Now.” She shoved her panic down, every scrap of pain she felt, physical and mental, and focused on her friend bleeding out beside her. Nye had gone silent, but Zylah could still hear her shallow wheezes, could still feel the slow rise and fall of her stomach as she forced herself to focus.

At the first tug on her magic, more pain answered. She ignored it, pulling harder from that place it had once been inside her, the place where all she needed was even a kernel of that healing power to spark into life for her friend. “Please,” she whispered, something answering in her chest with a flare of warmth. A warmth that quickly became a burn, her insides igniting as healing magic soared to life and rushed through her, flowing from her hands and into her friend. Zylah groaned against it, pulling and pulling and pouring into Nye until her veins felt like they ran with nothing but liquid fire, her breaths too hot, her heart galloping in her chest as she fought to heal her friend, praying it would be enough.

Stop.Zylah couldn’t breathe at the voice in her head.

But she couldn’t stop, not yet. Just a few more seconds, even though Zylah couldn’t see the wound, she could feel, somehow, and she was almost there.Stop.

It shouldn’t have been this way, Zylah thought. Shouldn’t have been his suffering that had him reaching out to her, whether he understood it or not. But the thought was sluggish, her face pressed against something cold. Dirt, maybe. Something shook. Her body, she thought, or maybe something was shaking her. Zylah couldn’t be certain, darkness swallowing her completely.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Itwashermagicthat had pulled her under, and so it was no surprise to Zylah that it was her magic that woke her. The familiar feel of the camp on the outskirts of Kerthen, the soldiers, the wards, the forest… the threads of Zylah’s magic spread before she was fully conscious, a signature beside her she recognised now as Rin’s.

“You feel different to your brother,” Zylah murmured groggily.

“Imala’s tits, Zy, I should hope so, too. Though I’ve no idea what that means.” Rin’s cool hand pressed against Zylah’s forehead, another on her arm, helping her to sit up.

Zylah took stock of her situation. Her eyes were bound, but her other sight had returned to her, Rin’s brow pinched as she swept her gaze over Zylah’s face.

“My family owes you a debt. Again.” The words were sharp but kind, and Zylah knew it was because they’d been close. Too close.

“Nye?”

“Fully recovered. Thanks to you.”

That was something, at least.

“By the time the others reached you, you were both stable enough to be brought here. Nye’s already back on duty.”

Zylah huffed a quiet laugh. “Of course she is.” She swung her feet out of the cot, raising a hand in protest when Rin tried to stop her. Too much time had been wasted on recovering. She gave herself a moment to take in the details of the sparse tent: a few cots pushed up against the canvas walls, a small wooden table, a scattering of chairs. Nye’s soldiers always travelled light. “The prisoners?”

Rin poured water from a pitcher before handing over a cup, chewing at her lip. “They didn’t make it. Most of Arlan’s party died, too. Fae and Black Veil.”

A silent gasp escaped Zylah. “It was a trap.” One they should have seen coming. And perhaps Nye and Arlan had. Perhaps they’d wanted to observe the city for themselves, to understand what they were up against. But Zylah couldn’t decide whether it was foolish or brilliant for both of them to have accompanied their soldiers, to put themselves at risk.

“We think so,” Rin said gently. “Your tactic of picking off the vampires was very effective, but Nye won’t risk more scouts until the Iyofari riders arrive.”

“I find it hard to believe Arlan’s army doesn’t have any soldiers with the ability to evanesce.” In truth, Zylah wasn’t certain what to make of Arlan at all. Not yet. Not if Rin’s disparate reactions to him were anything to go by.

“He does.” Rin swiped a hand at a few breadcrumbs on the table, stalling. “But an attack of this scale needs to be coordinated. You saw for yourself what happens when we move too quickly. And you should have told us they were using Holt as a weapon.” Rin’s words were those of a general’s cousin. A High Lord’s daughter. A betrothed female. Not her own, Zylah suspected. Though they were true. A knot had formed in her chest: all the different worries layered over each other into a jumbled mess, but the biggest of all was her concern for Holt’s wellbeing.

She sighed into her cup, wondering whether Nye had told Arlan about Holt. Or perhaps he had offered up his own explanation. Either way, neither Arlan nor Nye would risk their soldiers beside Holt again, that much Zylah knew. “It wasn’t my story to tell,” was all she said to her friend. The truth. Because Holt was hers, and she was his, whether he knew it or not, and she would never take anything away from him, never betray his trust.

Rin studied her face for a moment and Zylah braced herself for an onslaught of questions, but the Fae seemed satisfied with her answer. “I’ll get the others.”

“They’re already on their way,” Zylah said. Holt amongst them. Zylah swallowed. Moved herself to the table and took a seat as the sound of Kej arguing with his cousin carried through the canvas.

“Fine. You can check if you’re so concerned about her honour, but I’m sure she’d rather see my face first when she wakes up. Who wouldn’t?”

Zylah smiled at Kej’s antics, letting it loosen the knot in her chest just a little. “I’m awake; you can all come in.”

“Wipe that smug grin off your face, cousin, or I’ll have you sleeping with the soldiers tonight,” Nye said from behind Kej as he burst into the tent.

“Again, not a punishment.” His grin was wide as he took in Zylah at the table. “There she is.”

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