Chapter 37 Azahara #2
Kaed assisted her downstairs, and she felt grateful that one of them had changed her from the formal evening gown into a simple matching tank top and pants.
When Zhal and Illyan saw her coming, they stood and made their way to the bottom of the stairs.
The worry on both their faces pained her, especially when she looked at Zhal.
She looked exhausted, with deep bags under her eyes and a permanently furrowed brow.
Zhal reached out her hand, and surprisingly, Kaed passed Azahara right to her.
She held Azahara’s hand and looked up at her, a deep sorrow on the Vaeragi’s face.
“Are you okay?” It was strange hearing her normally stoic facade break.
“I’ll be okay,” Azahara lied. She wasn’t sure if she would be or not. From the encounter with Goddrick to the information she learned from Jaakobai, the world was crumbling down around her, and she had nowhere to run.
There was no need for her to worry Zhal more. Azahara stepped into her arms and embraced her.
“My Ounr, I am so sorry I failed you.” Zhal leaned down and placed their foreheads together. “Never again. I will have to be dead before anyone takes you again.” The thought of her beautiful warrior being lifeless did not sit well with Azahara.
Azahara placed a hand on her cheek. “No one failed.” She felt a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t want to hear that after this moment.”
They didn’t argue, but she knew it didn’t change how they felt.
They all were broken and torn in some way, including Illyan.
They felt it was their personal fault that everything had happened.
While they didn’t outright say it during dinner, it was implied.
The number of apologies they made for their family was leaning towards annoyance.
No one said anything, though, because truthfully, they all felt some degree of responsibility.
Azahara ate silently, strictly focusing on keeping the food down and not throwing it back up. Everything tasted like paper, and it was just as hard to swallow as it was to keep down.
After they finished dinner, they decided they all needed to discuss their next move.
They had confirmed to Azahara that the Yuul provided the information they initially came for, but they wanted to wait for her to finish eating before discussing it.
A strange comment to make, but she didn’t argue, seeing as though she had more important things to think about—not vomiting.
As they settled in the open living room, the crackling fire cast flickering light across the darkened room.
It was cozy with its dark wood, paintings along the walls, and an ornate rug beneath their feet.
Several couches showed signs of wear and tear; stained and torn, likely from children.
A round table between them bore the marks of circles from glasses constantly set upon it, with worn sides from frequent collisions.
It all felt like a home, intensifying her longing for her own comforts.
Kaed sat on one side of her while Zhal took the other. Illyan opted to sit on the floor next to the fire. Azahara looked between them before settling back against the couch, sinking into its warm cushion.
Zhal began, explaining why it had taken them so long to obtain the information from the Yuul. Kaed grimaced at the reasoning, and she could tell he was holding back his apologies.
Magic affected everyone differently, and coupled with being already exhausted, it wasn’t surprising to her that he had been knocked out for so long.
Zhal continued explaining that it was as if he were in a coma, and nothing, not even water to his face, would wake him.
It had been entirely out of his control, and when Zhal apologized to Kaed for how she acted towards him, it surprised both of them.
“His name is Thall Mozzehs.” Kaed picked up the story as they explained how Zhal fought the Yuul and nearly lost her head. Azahara took her hand then and let out a sigh of relief.
“The name doesn’t sound familiar,” Azahara added, “was it just him? I can’t imagine a single person acting alone unless they are Fae or even a god.”
There was a moment of hesitation as Kaed looked at Illyan. Azahara glanced over at Zhal, who was also staring at the Fae. “According to the Yuul, he was aided by Jaakobai.” Worry laced Kaed’s tone, unsure of how Illyan would respond.
Illyan responded as she had expected, with a shocked expression across their face and a quick shake of their head.
“Absolutely not.” While Illyan had made it clear that there was absolutely no love for their father, the concept of a Fae killing, or even conspiring to kill another Fae was very rare, if not unheard of.
Azahara didn’t say anything; she just looked down at her feet.
“Why would the Yuul lie?” Zhal asked.
“Maybe it was mistaken. Jaakobai is a monster, but to kill another Fae, it’s…” Illyan searched for the word. “Blasphemy.”
“We shouldn’t rule it out as a possibility—” Kaed was cut off.
“We will. There is no possible way. Anthurium would know. Everyone in the realm of Howl would know.” They weren’t backing down, and a sense of dread washed over her. She was afraid to speak, that same lump in her throat catching as she swallowed hard, trying to dismiss it.
Her eyes shifted, and Illyan was looking at her. They silently begged her to back them because she knew more about the Fae than Kaed and Zhal combined.
“I’m sorry, Illy,” she said, her eyes burning as defeat shrouded their expression. “I think—no, I know the Yuul was telling the truth.” The couch shifted with Kaed and Zhal’s almost simultaneous movement. “I was in the dungeon for several days when your father came for me.”
Suddenly, Kaed put both of his hands on her arms and turned her to face him. Pure rage was written on his face. Her breathing caught in her throat as she was left mouth agape, staring into his dilated eyes. “Did he touch you?”
Zhal quickly got to her feet. “I’ll fucking kill him.” Her words were fiery as she paced the room.
“Get in line,” Kaed said through gritted teeth.
Azahara shook her head finally. “No…” Her lip trembled as she took a shaky breath. Kaed’s hands loosened ever so slightly. “Not like that.”
“The bruises.” One of his hands brushed against her throat and then to her shoulder, where black and blue met alabaster skin. “The—”
“Everything you see,” she said, looking up at him, “and everything you don’t.” Those words seemed to pull him out of the consuming rage that had engulfed him, leaving behind a sorrowful expression that marred his face.
She felt a hand on her shoulder. Zhal had returned to sit beside her.
“Your father is a manipulator and a piece of shit,” Azahara continued, her hand reaching for Kaed’s, “he fed me, made me get cleaned up, and used it to try to barter a deal.” She wasn’t sure how much she wanted to share with them.
The Four Points of Rah’s Star seemed like a far-fetched story, and explaining it to them now didn’t seem right, especially since only Kaed knew about Death.
Now, using a god’s power to break through Fae’s Magic, it would create a hurricane of questions she wasn’t prepared to answer.
She cleared her throat. “I can only gather that he wants to be in power because he suggested killing Anthurium.” While he had only offered her his father’s Magic, it would inevitably be his demise.
“What...” Illyan shook his head. “And he just—gave you this information? For what?! What did he want?”
She took a deep breath and looked at Kaed, who was waiting expectantly.
“He thinks, for whatever reason, that I have connections to the gods.” Zhal moved her hand from her shoulder then and leaned back against the couch, drawing Azahara’s attention to her.
“I don’t know, Illy. He thinks I have the power of a god; become his to yield it to him. ”
Zhal had more emotion in her eyes than she’d ever seen. If anyone here knew what it was like to be treated like cattle, it was her. She then put her hand on Azahara’s cheek and leaned to kiss her forehead.
“It doesn’t make any sense,” Illyan said, standing and exuding their condemnation. “What else did he say?”
“Relax, Illyan,” Kaed warned them.
“No, it doesn’t make any sense,” they continued, pacing around the space. “No, no, it makes no sense.”
Of course, it doesn’t make any sense. I’m not being completely honest. Why would it? Her eyes trailed to Kaed, who was watching Illyan. She hoped her story was enough of a partial truth that he wouldn’t catch on.
“Illy.” Azahara called for their attention.
“The wards.” The distraught expression on their face deepened.
“He was watching you and, in turn, watching me.” If the air hadn’t already been thick with dread, they now swam in it.
“He has been since you came into my life.” She felt Zhal and Kaed both tense, and their attempt at restraint was waning.
That thought would haunt her until she forgot it. The knowledge that someone had seen her every day, naked, exposed, and vulnerable, without her knowing, disgusted her.
“He knew about Goddrick.” That seemed to subdue the pacing, and they sat back down by the fire. “We didn’t get further than that after I found out he had been spying on me, well—”
“You fought him.” Illyan raised a knee to their chest and leaned against it. “I heard you. I heard your screams. They locked me in my room, or I would have come to help you. That was its own form of torture...”
She closed her eyes, not wanting to look at any of them. Kaed put an arm around her back and gently tugged her to him. She didn’t fight it. He placed her head on his lap and brushed her hair behind her ear. Zhal found her hand and held it tight.