34. Zari #2
Javen let out a low growl, as his eyes filled with silver light. “You’d wish this on him? This eternal damnation of breaking? The blood-soaked thoughts demanding you forfeit your life for your failed oath? No. If you care for Daeden, and he breaks his Oath, kill him.”
“Don’t say that!” Hazelle cried.
“To live Oathbroken is no life at all.” Javen snarled.
“Yet, you still live.” Zari might not know about Oathbreaking, but she knew about days of ceaseless grief.
After her father’s death, the numbness that followed had threatened to drown her.
Only the hope that she might be able to heal others, if not herself, had led her way out of the darkness.
“Is revenge your only reason for doing so?”
A dangerous wager that risked making him more furious. But he’d sat vigil by Tobias that night. Why do that, only to let the young man die here?
Hazelle began, “Celene wouldn’t want this for you.”
“Celene is dead !” Javen shouted, his voice cracking in anguish. “Killed for daring to believe in this damned peace! Killed, and left nothing behind. Nothing for me to live for but revenge.”
“You’re wrong. There is still hope!” Hazelle’s voice rang out as she pushed past Zari, her eyes flashing with defiance.
She squared her shoulders and glared at him, her grip tightening on the hilt of her sword.
“Hope remains, even when nothing else does. We could work together, if you came back to the isles.”
“Don’t be foolish.” He seized the blade from Hazelle’s hand, its edge biting into his palm. Blood coursed down his arm, staining his uniform, but he didn’t flinch. With a swift flick of his wrist, he hurled it aside. “There is no hope left on the isles.”
Regret flashed in his eyes, gone as quickly as it appeared.
He muttered a word and a flash of blue light passed from his hand to Hazelle’s scalp.
Without a sound, she crumpled to the ground.
Zari bit back her scream, her hand tightening around the pistol.
All she had to do was pull the trigger, and pray that it would be enough to kill him.
Javen glared at her. “If you kill me, can you be sure your precious Accords will not be broken?”
Because he was a fae, and she was a human, and if she shot him… it would not be in self-defense. Damn him, Zari though. That was why he hadn’t attacked me directly. But Hazelle—
Javen brushed past her to where Tobias lay. He knelt, checking the young man’s pulse. His touch was clinical, with none of that wide-eyed grief she’d seen earlier. Still, there was the faintest hint of tenderness in his actions, as if he was fighting not to show he cared about Tobias.
It seemed to Zari that Javen’s greatest battle was fighting against caring about anyone at all.
“He’s alive,” Zari said. “As is Daeden.”
“You speak so fondly of an Oathborn who would kill you faster than your next breath, if the Queen ordered it.” Javen laughed bitterly. “And your dear Tivre’s hands are coated in the blood of innocents.”
“I want to trust them,” she said. She wanted to believe in their kindness, in their empathy, in their…
humanity. Except even that word’s existence hung heavy in her mind, reminding her of Tivre’s earlier comment.
That depends, if being fae is a question of blood or beliefs. “I want to believe we all want peace.”
“Then you’re a fool, like your father was.
” Javen tossed something toward her. She caught it easily, her fingers already knowing what it was before her eyes confirmed it.
A queen from a chess set, carved from dark wood, its weight familiar in her palm.
Her father’s initials, neatly etched on one side, seemed to burn against her skin.
Zari’s breath hitched, a shiver running through her. “If you knew him—”
Javen didn’t answer. He lifted Tobias into his arms and started walking away, up the hill. The chess piece remained in her trembling hand.
The faint outline of the captain disappeared entirely in the misty haze. Zari turned back to Hazelle and let out a sigh of relief that she was clearly still breathing. And Daeden… Zari bent to touch his forehead. The skin already felt cooler.
They’d survived. The cadevesh had worked, and she’d saved Daeden.
But more Rhydonian soldiers were dead, and peace seemed more tenuous than ever. Without an answer as to who was causing the purple smoke, it was only a matter of time before the Accords would break.
Zari sat by Daeden’s side, keeping vigil, until Hazelle rose up to unsteady feet. Her face weary, she tumbled down next to her. “He’s going to live, isn’t he? You were so clever to use cadevesh. I know some of the mages used to carry it during the war but—”
“It was a gamble.”
“One that saved his life.” Hazelle brushed away a lock of hair. Zari found herself wondering if Hazelle’s sisters had shared that same golden shade. “For now. Until the Queen gets her wish and war begins anew. She will have Daeden on the front lines soon.”
“Perhaps he can say no, when he is asked?”
“An Oathborn is never asked.” Hazelle still didn’t look up. “If the Queen commands them to do something, they must obey. I watched the Queen force Dae to forget his own training under Javenthal. How he retains his personality when she has taken so much from him, I do not know.”
“I’m sorry.” Zari’s words felt hollow. What good was one more empty apology? These faes’ lives were all so interwoven, a torn painting of pain that Zari saw no way to fix. “It sounds like an awful curse, this Oathborn magic. ”
“It is. You truly saved your friend by taking her place. You have a noble and kind heart, for which I am glad to know you.” Hazelle dug in her pocket until she retrieved an enameled pin the size of Zari’s palm.
A single massive star sapphire glittered in the center, surrounded by twisting silver metalwork.
“This is yours now. Take it before Dae wakes and we cannot speak so honestly.”
“What is it?”
“A pin, for my isle, showing your loyalty and home belong there. The South Star Isle will keep you safe as long as you need us to.”
Zari’s fingers curled around the pin. Safety. Could such a thing exist on the isles for a human? The metal edges of the pin dug into her skin. “I have nothing to offer you in return.”
Hazelle shook her head. “You offer the thing I need most. A friend.” They sat together in the wet grass, Hazelle softly telling Zari stories of her family, her childhood, and the isle she called home.
The words washed over her but barely registered, as the adrenaline faded into weariness. “You see now,” Hazelle said softly, “why I asked for your help in stopping the Queen.”
Zari still did not know what she, of all people, might do to hinder a Queen’s bloodthirst. Yet, if she’d remained in the capital, her days would be spent as before.
If a war began, she’d treat patients, cursing the battles, never knowing some fae wished for peace, as well.
Now, she had a chance to change that future for the better. “I will help you,” Zari promised.
Soon Daeden stirred. He coughed and his eyes flickered open. He stayed still as Hazelle fussed over him, reminding Zari of a very patient dog with an exuberant puppy, before he asked, “What happened?”
“You were shot,” Tivre’s voice echoed from behind them. The white-haired fae, violin case slung over a shoulder, looked utterly calm. “As is a risk when one fights soldiers, defying the Accords.”
“Are they broken?” Zari asked, a pit in her stomach.
He shook his head. “The soldiers acted in self-defense, and Daeden failed to kill any of them. ”
“What of the smoke?” Hazelle asked. “That was magic-crafted, I am sure of—”
Tivre shot her an intense look, as if threatening her not to speak further of it. Did that mean whoever made the smoke couldn’t be mentioned in front of Daeden?
“The Accords,” Tivre drawled, “are bound by two rules. No human can kill a fae, except in self-defense, and no Oathborn fae can kill a human.”
Was it Zari’s imagination or did he linger on the word fae ?
Then she blinked, realizing that someone like Annette would not be considered a fae.
Not entirely, at least. Was that what Tivre hinted at?
As for Tivre’s other words… he seemed to know far too much about the horrible battle.
“How long have you been standing there?” Zari demanded.
“A minute or two.” Shrugging, Tivre turned to Daeden. “You healed up just fine.”
“Not that you were worried, right?” Daeden replied in a sarcastic tone. “I know you don’t like blood.”
“I don’t mind it, provided it remains inside, where it belongs.” Tivre offered no insight as to where he’d been. “We’ll split up. Less chance of being tracked. You two make for the cliffs near the Divine Falls, and Zari and I will go through Kirkton.”
The Divine Falls must be what Rhydonian maps labeled as Thomasin Falls, a massive set of waterfalls that sliced between two sides of the insurmountably steep fae cliffs.
If she stayed with Tivre, she would head toward Kirkton and be able to honor Yansin’s request. Perhaps she’d gain some clarity about his theft of the sword.
Or perhaps she’d see him again. That filled her with a bit of hope, which coursed through her veins, helping her feel more awake and prepared to return to the journey ahead.
Daeden’s eyes flashed, a challenge burning within them. Subconsciously, Zari stepped back, retreating from him. She’d seen firsthand how deadly, how powerful, the otherwise easygoing fae was .
Hazelle placed her hand on her cousin’s shoulder. “We are past the Gloaming. The Queen sees this land as her own. It is safe for us to separate.” Her words sounded like a soothing set of stanzas. “Daeden. This land belongs to the Queen. You have honored your Oath.”
“I have,” he said in a shaky, tired breath. He turned to Tivre. “You are safe. Try your best to remain so?”
“When do I not?” Tivre said with a smirk. “Now, off we go, merrily on our ways, yes?”
She’d just agreed to at least a two-day journey with only the mad fae for company. This long quest was only growing longer by the minute.