25. Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

N ye split the scouts into two teams.

It wasn’t lost on Zylah that she and Holt would have been part of those teams, would have likely already spent the last few days ferrying refugees back to the camp had they been able to. She was certain it wasn’t lost on Holt either, his discomfort palpable at sitting back doing nothing whilst the scouts worked tirelessly.

Only they weren’t doing nothing. After a quiet scolding from Nye, which, Zylah had to concede she deserved, she sat on the cot in Zack’s quarters, brushing shoulders with Rin and Kej as Nye and Arlan sat at the small wooden table, Zack and Holt beside them. Daizin stood by the door, picking dirt from his nails with a dagger. It turned out he was another memory Aurelia had stolen from Holt, though Zylah supposed that made sense, since every memory Holt would have had of Daizin would have so prominently featured her.

It wasn’t just Nye Zylah had endured a scolding from, either. Both Rin and Kej had shared a string of profanities at her sudden disappearance, quickly followed by hugs of sympathy over the situation with Holt. Even Daizin had been torn between being pissed and compassionate at her plight.

And Zylah had let them. Slipping away from them all before dawn, alone, hadn’t been her best idea, but she didn’t regret it. She wasn’t going to risk their safety, and she wasn’t going to keep Holt waiting another second, either. They could either accept that or be angry at her, and she acknowledged that they’d also probably settled somewhere in the middle for now.

“We had some… premature explosions,” Zack explained at the table.

Zylah could practically feel the grin Kej suppressed behind a hand beside her. Ass.

“They took out the tunnels leading to the palace the day Holt and Zylah escaped, along with two more beneath the palace gardens that we could have used. This is the closest remaining entrance to the palace.” Her brother tapped at the parchment sprawled out on the table before them, and though it hurt Zylah’s head to make out the layers and lines, it was clear enough.

“That’s a dead end,” she told her brother.

Every pair of eyes in the room turned to her.

“I didn’t know you were familiar with the tunnels,” Zack admitted.

It wasn’t something she wanted to explain to all of them: the nights she’d needed to push herself, to burn off the unease she’d felt when Holt had been gone from Virian for so long. Zylah found herself fumbling for an explanation and coming up with nothing.

“She’s right,” Holt cut in. “It’s a dead end. We’ll use here and here.” He circled two spots with a rough pencil, both at the perimeter of the palace district on opposite ends. He was being cautious. And he was right to be.

They still weren’t sure how many vampires and thralls occupied the city, and that was a big problem. If they were caught out with the remaining prisoners, it would be a massacre. So much hinged on the Black Veil and Fae forces working together: the Fae to pave the way to and from the palace, the humans to get in and retrieve the prisoners; it felt like far too many things could go wrong. And now Maelissa’s archers, Thallan’s, were under Ranon and Aurelia’s command, too. Just another opponent for them to keep track of.

“How is it that your people have been down here for weeks and you didn’t know this entrance was compromised?” Daizin asked from his position at the door. Shadows spooled at his feet, and now Zylah understood a little more about her new magic, she felt certain Daizin and Nye controlled their shadows in a similar manner. Nye just leaned towards discretion far more than Daizin ever did.

Her brother didn’t baulk at the question. No one jumped to his defence, either. Zack didn’t need it. He held Daizin’s gaze, no doubt taking in the dagger, the shadows. To his credit, he didn’t baulk at those, either. “Their primary task was to evacuate anyone left in the city to the tunnels, and to retrieve supplies. We’ve some strong fighters, but humans are no match for thralls. And certainly not vampires. Almost every soldier is injured or dead.” He cast his attention out to the tunnels, to the hum of movement and voices from the scouts moving people in groups back to the base outside Kerthen. “Perhaps we should have known, but you’ve seen how stretched thin we are here. And they’re not my people. They’re his.” At that, he jutted his chin in Holt’s direction.

“They belong to no one,” Holt corrected. “The Black Veil were always the human counterpart to the Fae rebellion in the city. But like it or not, Daizin, they answer to Zack. And he’s done a fine job in my absence.” He held Daizin’s stare, and Zylah pressed her shoulder into Kej’s in a silent plea not to open his damned mouth.

As soon as the scouts were done moving out the wounded humans and Fae, they’d be moving in a small cohort comprised of both Nye’s and Arlan’s armies, and then they could begin. Because as much as they all wanted to get to the palace and rescue the remaining Fae, they needed numbers to do it safely. The plan was twofold: retrieve the prisoners, and take out as many vampires and thralls as they could to give them a clear shot at Ranon and Aurelia. In short, they wanted to take back the city.

Though Zylah knew it wouldn’t be that simple. The Iyofari riders had been delayed, and their aerial attacks would have meant far fewer casualties than they were likely to suffer without them. She rubbed her palms on her knees to release some of the dread threatening to take hold. Part of her wanted nothing more than to get as far away from Ranon and Aurelia as possible, to keep Holt and Zack, her friends safe from them, and another part wanted, needed to witness them meet their ends.

Daizin had no snappy retorts for Holt’s statement about the Black Veil, about Zack’s leadership. He was a good Fae, Zylah knew, his candour just took a little while to warm to.

“We’ll reconvene before day’s end, but if all goes well… Tomorrow.” Zack cast his gaze around the room at each of them before rising from his seat, Arlan following him out the door.

The scouts would recover in the safety of the tunnels whilst the rest of them went out into the city, preparing for their return. So many moving parts, so many of them relying on each other. Zylah was still trying to learn what it meant to lean on others, to be part of something, and she wasn’t ashamed to admit to herself that it hadn’t been easy. Change took time.

Rin took one of the seats they’d vacated, Daizin the other, his shadows reaching for Nye of their own accord for a moment before snapping back to him. Zylah wondered if the others could see them as often, or if it was her new magic that afforded her the sight.

“I like your brother,” Kej said, shoving his shoulder playfully into hers.

Zylah felt Holt’s attention on her, and Daizin’s on Kej. But she said nothing.

“Well, that went well.” Rin folded the map of the tunnels with precise, careful movements. “But we can go—”

“No,” Nye said firmly. “If you two so much as set foot outside of the tunnels, Daizin has my strict instructions to bind you both in his shadows and drag you back here.”

Kej linked his hands behind his head, leaning back against the wall. “Guess we have different definitions of punishment.”

It was Zylah’s turn to shoulder him.

“Not to mention it would make our arrangement with Arlan very difficult,” Nye added.

Kej laughed. “And here we were thinking you just cared about us, dear cousin. Right, sis?”

But Rin ignored him. “Deyna asked to see both of you.” She glanced between Holt and Zylah.

There were two other healers with them, so Luan would be pleased with the extra pairs of hands, both of them Fae, neither of whom Zylah knew. Deyna was adept at what she did, there was no doubting that, but how much the witch knew about the mating bond was a question Zylah wasn’t sure she wanted to learn the answer to. Holt remained silent, his expression blank, and she realised he likely didn’t remember Deyna, either.

“A healer,” Zylah explained. “She helped us once. You can trust her.”

“This is too fucking weird,” Kej grumbled beside her.

“Kej,” Daizin warned, shadows twisting in Kej’s direction.

“We’ll go,” Zylah told her friend. And then said to Nye, “Any luck with Okwata and his experiments?”

Nye smiled. “He’s something else. Sometimes I think he might have just fallen out of the sky with the strange things he comes out with.” Zylah suspected she wasn’t far from the truth. “But ever since you mentioned Arioch, it got me thinking. The knowledge he’ll possess. We could use that to our advantage,” Nye said from the table.

Zylah hadn’t forgotten the promise she’d made to the Seraphim. But now, the thought of returning to Ranon’s maze had her pushing to her feet and moving to the door for some breathing space beyond Kej’s insufferable spreading. Nye was right, of course. Arioch could provide information that might turn the tide for them against Ranon and Aurelia. But would he want to after lifetimes of imprisonment? That they’d be using his freedom to their advantage left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“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 collective what the fuck over 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.