14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

T he conversations that followed were fraught. Deyna had requested another day to tend to Zylah’s eyes, but Arlan was reluctant to stay.

“We’re exposed here,” he repeated for the fifth time. Nye had already returned to their forces with Enalla, one of the scouts who had helped at the mine attack. They’d travelled as a small group to find her, and Isaias, the other scout, had brought Deyna the moment Kopi had found them.

Rin explained that Malok’s scouts, Nye’s now, always travelled in pairs; if one was wounded, there was no risk of any forces falling behind. She and Kej had been taking it in turns with the others to patrol the area around their tent, where Deyna had requested they remain for the time being. Zylah didn’t question why Arlan stayed when he had an army to return to, though she had her suspicions the betrothal wasn’t entirely political.

And he was right to believe them exposed. Neither Ranon nor Aurelia were at full strength, but it didn’t matter, not when they had command of their monsters.

“The longer we leave her eyes as they are, the longer we risk permanent blindness,” Deyna snapped at Arlan.

Zylah tuned out their arguing. They spoke like she wasn’t there, anyway. And the moment Deyna had returned to the tent, she’d shuffled Zylah back to bed to rest. Rest . She almost scoffed at the word. Every minute felt like hours, every moment they remained, wasted. Virian seemed the most likely location to search for Holt, and that was where she intended to go first. The witch had explained how her magic was fighting the venom, keeping it suspended somehow, which meant she wouldn’t be at full strength until the venom could be neutralised.

The tent flap opened, light leaking in, and a voice announced, “You have a visitor.”

Kej. Followed by a quiet hoot and a flap of wings. “Kopi?” Zylah breathed, holding her palms open for her little friend. He cooed as she stroked a thumb over his soft feathers, the owl pressing his head into her fingers. “Thank you,” she told him quietly. For every feather he had dropped. Every spark of hope he had given her in the dark.

He belonged to no one, Zylah knew; had more than likely remained at Pallia’s side for more years than she could even conceive of, and yet he’d chosen to return to her. To seek out her friends, to help. And though she’d had to endure Ranon’s maze alone, she wouldn’t have wished it any other way. Kopi was safe, and she would watch over him as he had her for however long he chose to stay.

Shadows moved as Arlan and Kej left the tent, the bed dipping as Deyna sat beside her. “May I?”

Permission to touch Kopi, Zylah presumed. She nodded.

“He wouldn’t leave your side back in the Aquaris Court.”

Zylah tried to think of a reply, attempted to push the memories of everything that came after from her thoughts. The confession she and Holt had offered each other, the words murmured between kisses. A spark of warmth flared in her chest, and Zylah closed her eyes, a hand pressed against her heart to savour it.

“I didn’t know you were Pallia’s granddaughter back then.” Something clicked and clanked as if the witch were working tools. A pestle and mortar, Zylah presumed, the sounds so familiar to her, a herby scent permeating the air. “But it explains your resistance to the vanquicite.”

“It does?”

Deyna hummed her acknowledgement. “You can evanesce.”

“Could.”

Another hum. “So you understand the concept of aether more than most.”

Zylah canted her head at the witch, waiting for an explanation as Kopi shifted to his spot on her shoulder.

“I told you witch magic draws from nature. From the world around us.”

“From the aether.” Not a question, because Zylah already knew the answer, somehow. Something Holt had told her once about the way his father had drawn magic.

“You poisoned Raif with baylock?” Deyna asked, switching topics so quickly it made Zylah’s head spin. Whatever she’d been mixing, the scent came closer, a cloth placed over Zylah’s eyes.

“ Tried to poison. But it only knocked him out.” She repressed the urge to shudder at the memory of him calling her name through the maze.

“Still. You used what nature provided. Pulled it from the aether.”

“But other Fae can do those things, my—” Zylah stopped herself. Sucked in a breath and exhaled, slowly. “Those aren’t unique abilities.”

“No. But the way you use them is. I saw the salves and tinctures you made for the sick humans back at the court. No human taught you that, either.” Zylah was quiet as Deyna secured the cloth behind her head, all traces of light disappearing. It was true, she’d bolstered what her father had taught her with her own learning, had always had a knack for it. “Your eyes need rest. Since you won’t, we need to keep them covered. Try to draw out the venom with this. It’s a light oil, gentle on the eyes but a potent anti-venom.”

Nastura and celandia. A hint of feverroot. A few other herbs Zylah could pick out from the mingling scents. “How often do I need to replace it?”

Deyna pushed a tin into her hands. “Morning and night. Your body is working to heal itself, but with Ranon still draining your abilities, we can’t take any risks.”

Zylah didn’t miss the implication, that her body might not heal at all. She gave her thanks, pushed to her feet, and fumbled around for her bag.

“I could have done that for you.” The witch clicked her tongue but didn’t intervene.

Zylah pulled on her cloak and her bag, held her spear firmly in her hand, and used the other to feel along the wall of the tent for the door. She was no use to Holt if she couldn’t adapt quickly. Raised voices outside told her Arlan and Kej were arguing again, only now Daizin had joined them, something about Asters and thralls moving in patterns.

This time, the witch didn’t try to protest as Zylah made to leave the tent. Perhaps she sensed the futility in it because Zylah wasn’t about to sit still a moment longer. Frigid air hit her face and she raised the hood of the new cloak Rin had given her, Kopi settling in at the crook of her neck.

“Good to have you up and about.” Zylah almost chuckled at the way Daizin avoided using the word see , picturing the tattoos that ran down the side of his face, the way he’d be wearing his hair fastened in a knot.

She moved slowly at first, adjusting to the crushed snow underfoot, the lack of shadows to rely on. But there were plenty of sounds to go by: heartbeats, breaths, Arlan’s charged pacing that Zylah felt in the air over her skin. She needed to show them she could do this, no matter how scared shitless she felt at the prospect of losing her vision permanently. They needed to know she wasn’t a liability, that she wasn’t going to slow them down wherever they planned to go next. Because she had no intentions of returning to the Aquaris Court.

“It’s good to be back on my feet.” And she meant it. “I know Deyna will be rolling her eyes at this,”—she gestured back to the tent—“but if the Asters and thralls are moving in tighter circles, they’re looking for me, so staying here is out of the question.”

“We can take them.” Kej almost sounded enthusiastic, like he was looking forward to another fight.

“Maybe. Maybe not. But if the choice is losing my eyesight or losing one of you, you already know my decision.”

Arlan hummed. Approval, perhaps, Zylah wasn’t certain, but then a ripple in the air had her turning, spear tight in her grip until she registered the steady rhythm of a wildcat’s gait. Rin.

This time, Zylah felt the Fae shift, the press of magic against her skin.

“Enalla was attacked,” Rin gasped through broken breaths.

A roar echoed in the distance and Zylah’s skin prickled. An Aster.

“Kej, Daizin, you’re with me,” Arlan snapped. “Isaias, get them out of here and come back for us.”

Rin made a noise in protest, but the wave of Kej’s shifting magic and the crunch of snow told Zylah they’d already gone, leaving only the sound of Rin catching her breath. The Fae was just as capable as her twin, and Zylah suspected Arlan knew it. Still, now was not the time to voice her opinion.

“Deyna?” she called out.

“I heard that cantankerous old boot. I’m coming.”

Rin huffed a laugh at Zylah’s side, but then another sound had her pivoting in its direction. Grimms. Her friend must have heard it too, the press of magic over Zylah’s skin telling her the Fae had already shifted.

“Rin, wait,” she breathed. But it was too late, a low growl fading as the wildcat darted away. “Isaias, take Deyna and return for us. Bring another scout, if you can.”

“Understood,” the Fae replied, but Zylah was already moving, running after Rin, the spear a staff to steady herself whenever she lost her footing, Kopi darting out from under her hood.

Another shriek, much closer, and Zylah snapped her spear over her head and pivoted, her weight following the path her weapon cut through the air. It met with something heavy, and Zylah didn’t waste any time moving to hurl it away. With every sense on alert, she moved closer to her friend, the wildcat’s throaty growls her beacon.

Each swipe of her spear was a calculated guess; some hits struck true, others missed and had her stumbling, narrowly evading the teeth and claws of the creatures flapping around her. Perhaps it was better she couldn’t see them, could only imagine how ghastly they looked from the sounds they made.

What had Rin been thinking? If the Asters and thralls found them, they were truly fucked. Her next strike had her spear wedged in the body of a grimm, the thing shrieking in pain as she slammed it into the snow. Rin’s snarl was the only warning she had to draw her sword and slash at another as it attacked from behind.

“Zylah?” Isaias. Zylah almost laughed with relief, swinging her sword instead at another too-fast-approaching shadow. Another miss, one she only narrowly avoided.

“Over here!” Another slash, and this time her blade cut through flesh. Zylah panted as she pulled her sword free, trying not to worry about wherever Kopi had flown off to. Every one of her senses was on high alert, ears straining for any sounds of approaching foe.

Fast steps through snow, the pant of breaths. “Luc, with Zylah,” the scout snapped.

Something caught Zylah’s cloak and she turned just in time to swipe at it with her sword. The air shifted as Luc moved to fight near her, not too close, or it could cost him his life, but the four of them stood a much better chance together.

Rin whined, a creature shrieking as the wildcat fought back, but Zylah couldn’t let that distract her, not when she was already such a liability to them all. “Is she alright?” she dared to call out between strikes, her hand slick with what she could only assume was grimm blood. Her next move had her stumbling, staggering into the snow, using her sword to push herself upright as another grimm swooped for her, her blade already moving to strike it from the air.

Something within her seemed to shift, and Zylah almost lost her footing a second time. Despite the bandage over her eyes, images came to her. Not quite the shadows she’d been able to see before, but just as hazy.

Rin’s low rumble came in reply to her question, and as Zylah swung her head in the wildcat’s direction, she could have sworn she could make out the stain of blood against snow. Impossible. But when she focused on her senses, her smell, her hearing, she knew. The copper tang, the laboured breaths.

“Rin!” Arlan’s voice. “Isaias, now,” he commanded. The ripple of magic Zylah now knew was evanescing washed over her, her focus on the remaining hearts beating around her.

“They’ve taken Rin and Enalla,” Daizin said from somewhere to her right, and this time she saw his shadows swirling in the space he occupied. “Down!”

Zylah ducked, canting her head just in time to see one of those shadows lash out at a grimm. No, not see , because that was impossible. But some trace of something had danced across her bandaged eyes. Chest heaving, Zylah pushed to her feet, sword swiping and striking at every grimm that came for her.

“Kej, time to go,” Daizin called out. Kej’s answering roar marked him as close by, but not quite close enough. And there were so many of the creatures. A hand touched her elbow as shadows approached: Luc and a grimm. Zylah tore away from Luc’s grip, her breath hitching as something fell with a heavy thud.

Not the grimm.

“Luc?” she breathed, fighting off more of the creatures, waiting for a reply she knew wasn’t coming.

“He’s gone, Zylah. This way,” Daizin rasped, tugging at her cloak, urging her to follow.

From the corner of her strange new vision, more crimson seeped into the snow.