Chapter 28
Zadriel
Before Dother’s Death
“Where is my son!” Vehsa wailed, her voice horrifically close. “Zadriel! ZADRIEL!”
Something cracked in Zadriel’s soul, splinters skittering through his being until he was certain he’d never be whole again.
“Mom!” he cried, bruised knees shaking when he stood.
A throbbing ache pulsing in his bones. How long had he sat, choking on thick, musty air, wooden shelves digging into his back?
Light crept through the crack in the door, crawling over shattered glass, puddles of blood and Mother knew what else.
Brennan hadn’t been gentle when he’d thrown Zadriel into the pantry, uncaring when the Fae slammed into his stores and reagents fell onto the tiled floor.
The stern look in those piercing eyes scared Zadriel most—this wasn’t the worst pain he’d been subjected to since he was taken.
Now, he understood the root of Brennan’s fury; Vehsa had once again come for her son, wandering closer to Eden than ever before.
“Zadriel!” she screamed again, as if in agony.
Glass shards cut into his bare feet, broken vials clinking when he rushed toward the sound.
He hissed at the sharp sting but didn’t slow.
Blood whooshed through his veins so swiftly he could feel its current, adrenaline pushing him to move.
When he tugged the door open, he wondered if Brennan heard the hinges whine, but it was an innocent, bright blue stare that made him pause.
“Don’t,” Cillian begged, blocking the way.
Zadriel paled. “I have to.”
“I know it was you, Brennan! I know what you did!” Vehsa bellowed from the yard, her anguished roar a maddening song rushing with the winds until it hammered against the cottage walls.
Cillian’s lower lip wobbled, but he squared his shoulders. Gone was the boy who kept his mouth shut while Brennan made a mess of Zadriel’s arms. “You don’t want to see.”
“That’s my mother,” Zadriel shrieked, pushing past him.
Cillian refused to be ignored, rushing after Zadriel and launching himself at his back. The room spun. Hardwood cracked against Zadriel’s cheek, stars dancing in his vision, while a pulsing drumbeat thrummed against his skull.
“What do you know, Vehsa?” Brennan taunted in his low, threatening tone.
“I couldn’t stop it, even with the Galadriah’s warning...” Vehsa’s pained voice wavered. “You took everything.”
Brennan’s chuckle made Zadriel’s blood run cold. “Not yet.”
His breath quickened, Cillian too heavy on his back, the weeping boy clinging to Zadriel’s rough-spun tunic as if that could cage him.
“Get off me,” Zadriel snarled, ramming his elbow into Cillian’s side before rolling over. Guilt punched through his gut at the sound of the boy’s pained inhale, but it wasn’t enough to stop him.
“He’ll hurt you too,” Cillian muttered. He remained on the floor, clinging to his side, a plea in his watery eyes.
Brennan’s voice boomed. “Will you bleed gold, Keeper?”
“She will bleed gold,” Vehsa seethed, “but I will help drown your kin in silver.”
The faded bronze doorknob felt frigid in Zadriel’s hand, tremors rippling through him. “He’ll hurt me either way, Cill.” Zadriel didn’t wait for an answer—he wrenched the door open, ready to run... until he saw her.
A crowd stood across the dirt road, smug faces twisted with vitriol, Vehsa bound and on her knees like a hunter’s trophy.
Her breath hammered in and out of her lungs, long strands of black hair curtaining her face, but it didn’t hide the metal chain they’d coiled around her neck, each end clutched by one of Brennan’s favored Halflings.
The stench of burning flesh flooded Zadriel’s nostrils. Iron. They’d leashed her with iron. A weak growl rose in his chest, but what was he to do? A Fae child stood no chance against them all.
Brennan loomed over her, the Keeper’s dagger clutched in his tight-knuckled grip. “What are you on about?” he pressed, his nose wrinkling at the sight of her torn, muddied dress.
When Vehsa said nothing, he placed the gilded blade beneath her chin and forced her to look up at him.
Gold pulsed along her arms in time with her sharp, jagged breaths.
She was so thin, cheeks gaunt, exhaustion heavy on her face, but a furious, burning flame churned within her golden eyes.
Nearby trees bent in her direction, though none were close enough to reach her.
“I asked you a question, Keeper.”
As if she felt him near, Vehsa’s eyes drifted to her son, widening the moment she took him in. They roved over his pale face, wild and frantic, until they settled on his scarred arms. “Mother, no,” she breathed, a tear slipping free. “I’ve failed you.”
Brennan followed her stare, chin-length strands of rich brown hair framing his unyielding face. His jaw worked when he saw Zadriel standing there.
Somehow, Vehsa smiled, soft and gentle as if she and her son were safe in the meadow, chasing pixies through a sea of gilded daisies and singing to the Mother.
“Find your Heart,” she said, holding his dark stare.
Ignoring the press of the blade on her chin and the beast who held it.
“And when the time comes, take back what was given.”
Brennan shook his head. “I never took you for a fool, Vehsa. Look around—it’s over. There will be nothing for your son to take back.”
She gritted her teeth and snarled, the loud, predatory rumble purely Fae, but Brennan merely laughed.
“The Fates are funny beasts, aren’t they?
” Sitting back on his haunches, he pulled the blade away from her chin and admired the golden filigree with a satisfied smirk.
“It wasn’t long ago you decided my destiny, and now here you are at my feet, in my village, your life mine to end.
Your son mine to do with as I please.” Dragging a finger over the daisies carved into the dagger’s hilt, his face lit with smug amusement.
“You and Alaius would think my trick with the pixies was nothing if you knew what I’ve done to him. ”
Vehsa lunged, gagging when the chains wrenched tighter around her throat, but her teeth found purchase on Brennan’s cheek. The man yelped, his fist slamming into her face. The crack so loud Zadriel felt it.
An agonized gasp was followed by darkening skies, thick, gray clouds blotting out the moon and descending them into darkness.
Vehsa landed hard on the ground, choking.
The iron chain too tight. When Zadriel opened his mouth to shout at Brennan—at anyone—to make it stop, a hand slammed over his lips.
“You can’t stop him,” the boy whispered. “Come inside before it gets worse.”
Zadriel shook his head. His feet were rooted to the ground, his body so heavy he couldn’t turn away if he tried.
“Please,” Cillian breathed. “Don’t watch.”
Those golden eyes dared one final look at her son. They brimmed with tears, with a sadness that would linger long after she’d taken her last breath.
“You cunt,” Brennan hissed, hand pressed to his cheek. Blood welled between his fingers, the liquid trailing down his neck to soak into his off-white tunic.
Vehsa merely grinned, her smile weak and vicious all the same, Brennan’s blood staining her teeth and dripping down her chin. “I vow—"
Her voice cut off, replaced by a pained wheeze when the chain pulled tighter, the putrid stench of burning flesh growing stronger. The skin around the chain blistered, splitting around the edges.
Zadriel’s legs gave out, his body collapsing in the dirt, taking Cillian down with him.
“The Halflings will have our due,” Brennan spat, leaning closer.
“We’ll take everything we’re owed from your precious forest. And from your son.
” The blade met her flesh again, slicing through burnt skin with ease when Brennan ran it along the edge of the chain.
She shook, squeezing her eyes shut. Teeth clenched tightly to hold back a cry.
“Hmm, I guess your blood isn’t gold. I’m almost disappointed, though his wasn’t either. ”
Vehsa’s eyes shot open, sharp, sanguine-stained teeth gleaming. Before she could say a word, Brennan’s ring moved, the pearly gem swiveling in its casing until an endless obsidian void stared into her golden gaze.
What little color remained drained from Vehsa’s face.
She shrieked, the violent, broken sound burrowing into Zadriel’s ears.
It encircled the village, merging with the winds until it changed course, rushing to curl around the doomed Keeper.
Trees groaned as they moved in her direction, birds leaping from their branches to flee.
“Flesh for flesh, blood for blood, an eye for an eye,” Brennan taunted, digging the blade deeper. “I’ll use every piece of you, until your debt is paid. Until my power is whole and I reign immortal with my kin.”
Thunder rumbled, as if the Gods themselves roared.
Vehsa didn’t look up at him. She stared at that ring, panting through clenched teeth. “I vow to haunt your bloodline. I vow my eternal soul will not rest until Zadriel is free. And the moment I am able, I vow you and your kin will—”
Brennan slammed the dagger into her throat, wrenching the blade across her neck until a torrent of blood spilled free.
Her words died, but Zadriel’s wail rose in their place, barely muffled by Cillian’s hand. The skies wept with him, fat drops of rain tumbling from the heavens.
The promise of retribution burned in a sea of azure. “Get. Inside,” Brennan demanded.
Zadriel didn’t fight when Cillian dragged him back into the cottage, his body limp in the boy’s hold. The screams unwilling to cease. Rain plinked against windows, the howling winds an endless cry.
When they reached the pantry, Cillian was careful to avoid the glass, skirting the wall until they made it to Zadriel’s cot.
“Shhh,” Cillian hushed, slumping with Zadriel on the bed. But the Fae couldn’t quiet. His lungs burned. A sharp pain tearing at his throat. Chest heaving. Head dizzy. Until he grew hoarse, and no sounds escaped him.
The world quieted with him, as if nature Herself had nothing left to give. A calm breeze overtook Eden, the rain ceasing. Soaking into the grass with Vehsa’s blood. Until a pyre was lit and the village celebrated her end long into the night.
All Zadriel knew—all he would ever know—were the echoes of his mother’s final tormented howls, the quiet of the pantry so loud it enveloped him while he silently cried in Cillian’s arms.