Page 73 of Tales of a Deadly Devotion
‘You shouldn’t know about that blade,’ I wanted to snap but my anger exhausted me more than I cared to admit.
‘What will you offer for my silence, sweetheart?’ Then came the slight sultry lift of their lip.
Everything. Nothing.
‘None of this scares you?’ I bit back. Surely a voyav – a Verr like them – should be more worried about the chaos Kat could unleash. Of what Montagor’s madness meant. Of relics and seals being brought to light. Of all the unrest that was bound to follow.
‘On the contrary, I’d enjoy the view of this world burning down.’ There was nothing but truth in the handsome anglesof their face as the candlelight flickered across it. ‘For what has it done for me, darling?’
Nothing.A little voice answered inside of me. My eyes reluctantly moving back to the marks across Thean’s skin. Evidence they were owned.
And from how long they lingered here, they couldn’t bethatgood a spy, not when it appeared they had no desire to leave. Not when all they did was taunt a worthless creature like me.
‘Found them,’ William announced, making me jump as he appeared – out of breath, with crates in his arms that looked like they’d been used to carry vegetables in the past, a small lantern dangling from his fingers, an ink smudge at his chin as he smiled.
‘These are open so we can go through them to start. I need to ask Emrys where he put the rest.’ He strode to a sideboard that was less cluttered than anything else and put the basket down, picking up the first compendium and handing it to me. The leather peeled and cracked, rough against my palm. A shudder rolling through me at the unpleasant sensation as I brought the yellowed spine to my nose. Smelling the sweetness of fey magic mingled with the sharpness of decay, making me recoil.
‘Anything?’ William frowned.
I was aware of Thean’s presence right over my shoulder, the soft scent of brandy and the spice of their cologne. The creatures in me more curious of the voyav’s proximity than the cursed books before us.
‘The leather is made from wyvern hide and the pages are fey skin.’ I pushed the book back to William. Bile burning the back of my throat.
‘Bloody saints,’ William cursed, looking down at the thing in horror as it fell open between his palms. I expected a retortfrom the voyav but, as I turned, I saw those amber eyes were focused on the text. Eyes moving across the cracked page with an intensity that unsettled me.
The beastly magic within me almost wanting to growl in warning.
‘How can they be hidden in books?’ I demanded, suddenly the focus of those strange, beautiful eyes. Feeling their body brush against the length of my own. Only their focus was still stuck on those pages and the books William had brought.
‘The same magic that forms a Kysillian sword. Which I know you’re familiar with.’ The words were short and businesslike, but their eyes were moving too fast, as if a thousand thoughts had consumed them. Knowing something they didn’t say. ‘Between here and nothing.’
‘Why would Verr use Kysillian summonings?’ William mused.
‘You think Kysillians came up with it all on their own?’ Thean snorted. ‘The conqueror always writes the history of the conquest, darling.’
Thean flipped the book between us, dust rising from its pages, to the centre. As if they’d read it before, landing on the middle page as it was spread before us.
On the revealed page were no words.
Just an image. Sketched like the tapestries of old I’d seen in the Institute. Only older. Darker.
Women holding children, bowed over. Clutching their young to them as fire rained down from above. Using their bodies as shields. Their mouths open as if they were screaming. As they cowered on the ground. Dark marks on their skin, showing they were Verr. Golden flames shaped like ravenous jaws surrounding them.
Large forms painted in gold holding swords to smite them. No matter how small and defenceless they were.
The Kysillians purged this world of the darkness that could end it. The story echoed in my memory. Only there was no darkness on this page. Just innocent beings. Punished for something they couldn’t change. Their blood.
‘If they were monsters to be purged, then perhaps we are too,’ Thean added so softly, the words barely brushed the shell of my ear. Making it twitch as if my beasts were listening too. ‘Are we all born cursed? Or have we simply forgotten who made us that way?’
Verr were monsters forced beneath. I’d seen the fiends their magic created. Yet as I looked at that picture … they’d been beings. Just as Thean stood before me now. Just as Emrys existed.
Not fiends, shadow beasts or monsters. Women and children. Beings that looked just like us. Like fey. It didn’t make sense. I couldn’t process the horror of the image before me as I slammed the book. My uselessness led too easily to defence as my heart pounded against my ribs but not with rage. Some strange emotion I couldn’t understand, but before I could ask, the voyav stepped back.
‘I’ll leave you to your reading.’ They straightened their jacket and moved to leave.
William startled. ‘Thean—’
‘Where are you going?’ The demand slipped out before I could swallow it.
