Chapter 61
Beyond the doors is a circular chamber with a domed ceiling, immaculately mosaicked to look like the sky in The Fade—each shard smaller than my fingernail, etched in runes barely visible to the naked eye. But I see them.
Sense them.
My steps echo as I move forward, leaving a litter of bloody prints, eyes pinned on what sits at the base of the gently sloping ground.
A makeshift Moltenmaw nest made from branches bound together with dried vines. Similar in both size and shape to the Sabersythe moon I paid tribute to before my Tookah Trial, it has a stout opening that looks almost too small for me to fit through.
I frown, creeping forward. Duck to peek inside.
And still.
Within the nest sits a plump powder-blue egg cushioned by dry foliage and crispy orange leaves. And though it’s shocking to see one up close, it’s the youngling crouched behind it that steals my breath.
Bundled within a white Runi robe that looks too big for his small frame, the young fae is bunched in a knot, chin perched on his knobby knees.
A messy flop of silver hair shields the top half of his fine face, and when he lifts his chin, peeking up at me through the heavy strands, I’m struck by startling, equally silver eyes.
The swiftest glance, but it feels like daes. Like he dug into the fabric of my soul, inspected every fiber before threading them back together in the time it took my heart to squeeze through a single hurried beat.
He looks back down at the egg. “Hi, Raeve.”
All the fight leaves my muscles, and I drop—knees striking stone, hands plowing into coarse twigs and vines.
An icy rage boils at the base of my throat, my next words croaked. “Hi, Ahvi.”
Silver hair … silver eyes …
He’s a child.
My mark—the fae I was ordered to slaughter to “save” The fucking Flourish—is a child.
“I—”
“Came to kill me,” he murmurs past too-pale lips, his voice soft. Distant. Like his mind is far away. “I know.” Chin on his knees again, he tightens his grip on his legs, gaze fixed on the egg. “I’m really glad you’re not going to.”
It takes me too long to realize—
“You’re a Mindweft …”
“They say I’m all sorts of things.” He shrugs. “None of them understand. Not like your Other does.”
His words echo, haunting.
Shaking me up from the inside out.
I open my mouth. Shut it. Wish I’d closed the door behind me as I came in, or that I wasn’t wearing so much fucking blood.
That I didn’t come here at all—
“But I’m glad you came.” He nips another glance at me, hugging himself tighter. “I don’t like it here, and I don’t like it at the Citadel.”
My suspicions notch into place like thorns finding purchase in my skin.
He’s definitely the protégé Kaan, Roan, and Pyrok are trying to track down. The kid who can read the Book of Voyd; who runed the arches above the Citadel.
Ahvi nods. “I tried to escape once, but I couldn’t run fast enough.”
Something flares beneath my ribs. An aching urge to do whatever it takes to protect this child. To get him out of here.
Somewhere safe.
“I’m glad you let Kurth go. He’s not like the others. He’s always been kind to me.” Ahvi reaches out, touching the egg’s feathered surface. “He helped me get this.”
The words are slow-stabbing blades.
So he was able to hear … everything. All the death that just went on in the busted room behind me.
Had I known—
“It’s fine. I can’t shut it off,” he murmurs, shoulders lifting with another shrug. “I’m used to hearing things I don’t want to hear.”
For some reason, I get the feeling that’s not the case at all.
The egg jolts, almost tipping sideways.
Ahvi smiles. The faintest tilt of his lips, yet it brightens his entire face. Makes him look even younger.
Lighter.
He reaches into the pocket of his cloak and pulls out a silver weald, meets my gaze through the gaps in his hair, then whispers a single word that chills me to the bone.
“Run.”