35. Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Five

C amp life wasn’t easy, but it was painless compared to her time alone in Kerthen. The wards kept its creatures at bay, though Zylah could still feel them, more so now as she foraged for plants close to the perimeter of the camp.

A shadow flickered at the edge of her vision, the swish of a bushy tail disappearing amongst the inky black before the general stepped out from behind a tree.

“Don’t you have scouts to spy on me?” Zylah asked her friend, slicing another mushroom from a rotting tree trunk.

Nye clicked her tongue. “I don’t spy on my friends. I came to see what’s been keeping you out here all morning.” A wisp of shadow receded at her feet, and again Zylah wondered if the times she’d seen it before back at the Aquaris Court had been the beginning of this new version of her magic.

But she cast that thought aside, pressing her lips together as she considered her answer. She and Holt hadn’t been able to leave for Mae’s court; Nye had received a note the morning of their departure from one of her scouts, informing them that Mae hadn’t yet returned to court and would be delayed by two weeks. Her adviser hadn’t given her whereabouts, but that had come as no surprise.

Then there was the matter of what Zylah could feel out in the forest, a familiar lingering presence that could lead to no good, though she wasn’t certain whether she remained at the perimeter in a desperate attempt to protect her friends from whatever lurked beyond it or for her own selfish reasons.

“I’m collecting more amantias for poultices.” An excuse, but not entirely a lie. There were many wounded within the camp, many from the tunnels in Virian, others who had returned from missions and run-ins with vampires and their thralls. In the three days since returning from Ranon’s maze, Zylah had been busy helping Deyna and the other healers every spare moment she got.

“You’re avoiding him.”

Zylah straightened. “I don’t want these to go to waste; you know well enough supplies deplete quickly.” The truth was that she hadn’t been alone with Holt since they’d discussed Mae in Nye’s tent. Since she’d brought up his imprisonment. Despite their kiss, despite how he’d held her and told her he wanted to find out what they could become, he’d pulled away. And if space was what he wanted, Zylah would honour it. No matter how much it hurt.

“You can’t hide out here for two weeks, Zylah.”

More shadows pulsed and Zylah wondered if they responded to Nye’s emotions. “I’m not hiding. Or avoiding.” Guarding felt like a more appropriate description, because she didn’t know how much more of this her heart could take. She was giving Holt time to think. Trusting, hoping he would seek her out when he needed her. If he needed her.

“Then you won’t mind that he’s gone for three days.”

Zylah’s hands stilled. She’d known Holt had left camp. Had felt the moment he’d evanesced away with a scout and a cluster of soldiers that morning. But she hadn’t known any of the details, hadn’t been able to say goodbye. Hadn’t been able to cast aside the hurt she felt at that.

Their conversation had seemed to pull a shadow over Holt, the mask she’d seen him wear so many times in the past back in Virian slipping back into place. Zylah had tried not to let her insidious thoughts whisper to her about what that meant, that he remembered more of his time with Mae, felt more… Zylah blew out a breath. “A mission will do him good. This was what he’s dedicated his life to for so long; I won’t take that away from him.”

“I know you think you’re protecting him by keeping your distance. But this isn’t what he would want.”

Anger flared, hot and heavy in Zylah’s chest like embers sparking a fire. She hadn’t known Holt as long as Nye had, hadn’t known him as long as Kej and Rin, or many of the Fae and human soldiers in the camp. Even Zack had known her mate longer than she had, so it was the sting of truth in Nye’s words that infuriated her more than anything. “There are no lengths I would not go to, to protect him,” she bit out, leashing her rising temper as best she could.

Nye crouched down beside her, resting a hand over hers. “I know that, Zylah, truly. But don’t let your fear hold you back. He asked you to try and remove Ranon’s command, didn’t he?”

“He told you?”

The general shook her head. “I knew he would.” She gently squeezed her hand. “They almost killed him. But this… this will kill him. If he has to sit back, has to remain here whilst we all go to war without him. I don’t know if he’ll ever come back from that.” Zylah began to protest, but Nye raised a hand. “And we need him. His power is vast, Zylah, I shouldn’t need to remind you of that. We need him.”

Zylah snatched her hand away as if burned, pushed to her feet, but again Nye caught her wrist. “You’re stronger together. A mate’s power amplifies the other. The two of you together…” Nye’s eyes roamed Zylah’s face, her pointed ears, the cloth over her eyes. “Ranon and Aurelia won’t stand a chance.”

The furious embers in her chest became an inferno. “Of all the people to use him for his power, I never thought you’d be one of them.”

Nye didn’t hide the hurt that flashed across her face. “I would never use him. Or any of the people I care about. If he has to watch us go to war and never return, watch you go, he will tear himself apart.”

Something crumpled in Zylah at that, forcing her back a few steps to sit heavily on the rotten log she’d been working on. “How can he forget me?” she breathed, all the sorrow she’d been trying to keep smothered threatening to spill over. “How can a Fae forget their mate?” She pressed a hand to her chest, fighting back the sob that had lodged in her throat. “He is a part of me. My soul.” Zylah’s voice broke and Nye sat beside her, placing a tentative arm over her shoulders. “How is it possible to have that cut away from him?”

Nye was quiet for a moment, the arm over Zylah’s shoulders pulling her closer. “I don’t think it is. Not unless he chooses it.”

“If you could choose to simply let your pain go, wouldn’t you?” The healer’s words had haunted Zylah, day and night. She’d seen the pain it caused him. Felt it. The easy choice would be to walk away. The logical choice. “I will tear Aurelia’s heart out for this.” She let the inferno blaze, let her anger give her the strength she needed to get through this.

“We should have believed you, Zylah. I’m sorry.”

Zylah said nothing, too many thoughts and feelings fighting with each other. Rage and sorrow twined in her chest, her heart fracturing beneath the pressure of it all, the storm chilling to an icy cold. She rested her head in her hands, elbows on her knees, willing herself not to fall apart in front of her friend. But then a flicker of warmth licked at the ice around her heart, and Zylah stilled.

“What happened to him at the palace?” Nye asked gently. “He’s alive because of you.”

It wasn’t a question, but still Zylah tried to refute it. “Our magic is tied to each other’s.”

Nye shook her head. “Not just your magic. All of you. Your bond kept him alive. Whatever he endured, you brought him back from that. And he knows it. Even now he can’t keep his eyes off you, like he’s drawn to you and doesn’t understand why. I think part of him knows what you are to each other, even if Aurelia tried to claw it out of him. I think he just needs time to heal.”

Zylah wanted it to be true, more than anything. “I’m afraid,” she admitted. Afraid of what would happen if he walked away, and terrified of what would become of him if he didn’t.

Nye pushed to her feet and took a few paces back, shadows curling around her legs, up her thighs, and spiralling like smoke against the rich brown skin of her arms. “It was my father who trained me,” she said softly, holding out her arms to inspect her magic’s ascent. “Who taught me how to wield a blade. To use my magic, even though it was unlike anything he’d ever seen. Even though it frustrated me, angered me. Even though some days it terrified me.” The shadows moved to her palms, swirling and writhing and lacing through her fingers. “He told me to take my fear, my anger, my sorrow, and hone it into something I could use. Something that served me, rather than took hold of me.” A shadow blade formed in Nye’s hands, her fingers closing around it like it was solid. With one smooth strike she sliced the last of the mushrooms away from the tree stump, handing them to Zylah with one hand and dissolving the shadow blade in the other.

“I’m sorry about what happened to your parents,” Zylah said softly, her thoughts turning to her father. To his stories of sprites and the lessons he’d taught her. To the knowledge he’d imparted about plants and their properties. Her attention snapped up to Nye’s face. “The library back at the Aquaris Court. Do you think there might be anything there about the mating bond?”

Nye looked thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe. But it’s too far for you to go alone.” Too great a risk of being tracked. “And I can’t—”

Zylah raised a hand. “I would never ask.” She knew Nye wouldn’t be able to spare a scout, not for this. And she wasn’t foolish enough to risk the safety of an entire court for her own selfish needs, stamping down her disappointment that an answer might be there, just out of reach.

“Believe it or not, I didn’t just come out here to scold you,” Nye said, the corner of her mouth hooking up into a grin. “I thought we might resume our training. Beginning with that new magic of yours.” She jerked her chin at Zylah, at the cloth over her eyes, and the way she packed everything away into a basket with precision.

Zylah sent the basket to the healers’ tent and wiped her hands clean on her tunic. She thought of what she’d done back in the maze, the way she’d used magic like Holt’s. How it hadn’t been the first time either.

“And we need to prepare,” Nye added, more softly this time. “For Okwata’s attempts to be…”

“Unsuccessful.” With his anti-venom. It was an outcome Zylah had been preparing herself for.

Her friend nodded. But she was right, of course. Zylah tugged the cloth over her eyes down to her neck, Nye’s shadow silhouette blurring with the other version of her Zylah could see.

“There are going to be many occasions when a cloth over your eyes will give you the upper hand. I know you’re no stranger to being underestimated. Use it to your advantage. But we need to make sure it doesn’t become a liability for you, either.”

Zylah heard the words Nye wasn’t saying. Not just a liability to herself, but to the others, too.

“We’ll train mostly with your eyes uncovered. We need to make sure you’re prepared for all outcomes.” Nye took a few steps back, angling her head as shadows pooled at her feet.

“Here?” Zylah asked. This wasn’t a sparring ring. The ground was covered in snow, any dips and divots in the dirt concealed along with anything else that might be hiding underneath it, the area thick with trees and logs.

Nye looked beyond the wards into the darkness of Kerthen. “The monsters we’re fighting are out here,” she said, something hard in her tone. “Not in a training ring.” A creature wailed in the distance as if in answer to her words, but Nye didn’t baulk. The hardness in her expression faded, the corners of her mouth tipping up into a wide grin as her shadows spread. “I don’t have long before rounds. Let’s make this count.”