Page 99 of A Legacy of Wrath and Reckoning

Another flare of comfort from Holt warmed her chest as she made her way to Okwata’s tent. Two signatures accompanied the scientist’s as Zylah approached, Nye’s and her brother’s. Zylah still hadn’t quite gotten used to entering without something to knock on first, so she cleared her throat as she waited at the threshold, the three of them looking up to meet her gaze.

Okwata sat between Zack and the general, all of them poring over a number of books and pieces of parchment on a large table before them. On another, pieces of hammered metal sat layered over each other, some of them hinged in peculiar ways Zylah had never seen before.

“What are you searching for?” she asked as she moved farther into the tent, shifting her gaze to the pile of books.

“Heirs,” Nye explained.

Zylah stood on the opposite side of the table to the three of them, her eyes shifting over pages, ledgers, and the notes no doubt collected by scouts and spies. They wanted to put another human on the throne. To maintain some sort of semblance of power for the humans. To start the cycle all over again.

Tell them,Holt said in her thoughts, his tone leaving no room for dispute.

She loosed a breath, pulling her words together carefully. “I think another crown is a mistake.” Three pairs of eyes stared back at her, waiting. “I’ve lived both sides of this… thislife…” Though she’d never known true freedom, not yet. “And I can’t see how another line of humans will ensure the Fae can live freely.”

“Because it’s a show of good faith, Zylah,” Nye said, as if it were obvious. Most humans were still afraid of the Fae, of the ones that looked so different from them, those that possessed magic, their ability to create deceits and wards, to conjure and summon and to inflict pain. But that fear would only continue to grow, to fester, if another line of humans were newly crowned.

“I’ve lived both sides of this and I was just as trapped as a human as I am now as a Fae. I was…”—her gaze flicked to her brother—“sheltered then just as I am now.”

“We were trying to protect you,” Zack shot back, guilt lining his features.

“We can discuss that later, Zack, it’s alright.” There were questions she wanted to ask him, but now was not the time. Zylah waved a hand at the ledgers. “Another crown would be a death sentence for Astaria. What we need is an elected council. Voices voted in by both humans and Fae. A true show of good faith, from both sides. And I think you and Nye should campaign to be our representatives for it.”

Nye and Zack frowned, but Okwata was grinning between the two of them, snapping one of the ledgers shut and wheeling his chair around the side of the table. “This… continent hasn’t been offered a choice in a very long time, from what I’ve learnt of your history.”

Zylah assessed him, wondering whether he’d been about to say something other thancontinententirely.

“I can provide assistance with setting up a council. Ahrek has some experience in this field, too.” He pulled a vial from his pocket and placed it on the table beside Zylah, sliding out a stool for her to take a seat.

“A politician and a scientist?” she asked, returning the grin he’d given her earlier.

“Call it atonement. Before Ahrek and I continue our travels.”

To find whatever it was they were looking for. Zylah believed him. She hadn’t told the others her suspicions about Okwata and Ahrek, hadn’t disclosed any of the details of the deceits they both used to hide their identities. There hadn’t even been time to discuss it with Holt. But Zylah had always felt at ease in their presence, had always seen nothing but sincerity in their actions, even now.

“You might want Holt here for this one,” Okwata said, lifting the vial to examine the contents.

“He’s on his way,” she told him.

The scientist smiled at her again, softer this time. “Such a gift.”

Zylah could only nod. Her throat suddenly felt too tight to answer, and she willed herself to focus on Holt’s approaching presence, her threads reaching for him of their own accord. He pushed open the tent flap a heartbeat later, his hand a steady weight against her lower back.

“Some time elapsed without magic suspending the venom,” Holt told Okwata, forgoing a greeting for all of them.

“What does that mean?” Zack asked.

“It means I made a choice that I have zero regrets over.” Zylah held Holt’s gaze, fingers twitching to reach for him. Inside, she was fighting a maelstrom of emotions, outside, she kept her features in a perfect mask of indifference, just as practised and polished as Holt’s. His thumb stroked her back, but the air still crackled for a heartbeat with his power.

“We should go,” Nye said quietly. “We’ll discuss your council idea, Zylah. I think it has some merits worth considering.”

When Zack didn’t move, Nye cleared her throat, and her brother made for the exit, following the general’s lead. “Can I do anything, Zylah?”

“None of us can,” Okwata told him. “Perhaps you’ll escort me back to Ahrek. He gets rather upset when I skip my meals.” Another warm smile bloomed across his face before he glanced up at Zylah and Holt, flicking his chin at the vial where he’d left it on the table. “I haven’t accounted for any advancements in the deterioration, but this is the last of what I could extract. You’ll tell me if it works?”

“Whether it does or it doesn’t, I want you to know how much I appreciate all the time you’ve put into this, Okwata. Thank you.” Zylah squeezed the scientist’s hand once before he left the tent with the others.

Holt pulled up a stool facing her, picking up the vial to inspect the contents. “The damage could be reversible,” he said quietly.

Zylah’s fingers closed over his. “It could be. But I’m prepared for it not to be. If I no longer have to sequester part of my magic to constantly suspend the venom, I’ll consider that a win.”

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