Chapter 4
Unnerving stillness greeted us as we staggered onto Ithuriel’s estate.
My feathered wings flapped twice more before I banished them back into my body.
After our dip in the river, we’d chosen to use our magic to speed our progress.
Which meant I hadn’t eaten more than a few virelthorn leaves, not wanting to risk digging into my pack and sending the vials slipping from between my fingers.
Visions prowled at the cusp of my mind. Darkness edging in was always the first sign the Goddess wanted to speak through me.
It had been a great motivator when I wanted to drop from the sky and give up. Because of that, we’d made the journey in a day and a half instead of three.
The house—an expansive, rectangular building with an inner courtyard teeming with plants—loomed like a silent sentry. The grass in the field surrounding it had grown tall, like no one had trekked from the nearby settlement to tame it.
The silky fronds brushed against my haggard, dirty clothing as we strode through it. We scanned every direction, searching for the barest bit of movement. Our ears strained for the slightest sound.
I sniffed, hoping to catch the scent of males and horses, so we’d know if they were lying in wait to ambush us.
But there was nothing.
Still, I wasn’t relieved.
Zuriel ducked into an entryway, the columns holding the roof aloft casting him in shadow.
The hour was late, and after days of scarcely sleeping, I wanted nothing more than to collapse into one of the many soft mattresses in the guest wing.
Heraphia and I leaned against the smooth stone, keeping watch while Zuriel picked the lock to the door.
The clunk of the metal dropping made me jump.
He eased the wood open on silent hinges. Minutes passed while he checked the interior. Sweat dripped down my spine, each bead yanked into existence by the muggy air. My best friend swiped at her brow, then fanned her face.
I shifted my weight to my other foot.
Where is he?
I glanced at Heraphia. Her teeth worried her bottom lip.
Our thoughts were definitely aligned. They always had been, really, ever since we were younglings.
I honestly couldn’t remember a time without her in my life.
She was more like a sister to me than anything.
As sentimentality rose, I reached out and squeezed her hand. She returned my reassurance.
Zuriel appeared a moment later, whispering, “It’s all clear.”
With one final survey of the surroundings, I slipped inside. Zuriel sealed the door behind us, then dragged a heavy carved bench in front of it. “Extra protection.”
I wasn’t going to argue.
The air was stifling on the inside, overheated and thick with moisture from summertime rain. I shucked my boots off and dropped my pack, muscles breathing sighs of relief.
We padded to the pantry, finding potatoes, grains, and dried meat. I snatched a piece and chewed the tough game, the age far less important than filling my belly.
Anything was better than the emptiness I’d had for days.
In silence, we gathered food to cook a small meal. Zuriel opened some of the windows to the inner courtyard. We didn’t dare risk the outward-facing ones that would give us away should someone ride upon the estate.
The brief relief of the airflow vanished when the pot started to boil, heating the kitchen again. Garlic and herbs filled my nostrils, making my stomach rumble. Discomfort forgotten, all I could think about was more food.
And virelthorn leaves.
“I want to hear more about your fated mate, and how you know it’s the Issaraeth.” Heraphia set her bowl down, her eyes narrowing on me.
I nearly choked on my gulp of soup. I’d never shared my first vision with her. Only my parents knew because they were there. For days after, I’d been inconsolable. Missed nearly a week of school.
When my best friend asked where I’d been, I claimed illness. The following week, she had the same one.
From what I’d overheard, our parents had no idea why we’d been gifted our powers so young. Yet both were concerned and spoke of ill omens.
Heraphia and I never really discussed it, not until years later when the Goddess shoved a horrific vision into my mind while she held me and bore witness.
I pounded my chest, clearing my airways. Zuriel slurped the last of his broth, watching me intently.
“Oh, come on, can we not talk about this now?” I huffed.
“Not when you dropped information like that in the middle of our closest escape yet,” Heraphia chided.
“Mates aren’t common, Sylaira. Our Radiant Mother gifts them to Her most blessed.
So to bind you and the Issaraeth? I need to know everything.
” The trickle of hurt in her tone didn’t escape my notice.
I raked a hand over my face. Disgusting and exhausted, I could have killed for a moment of reprieve.
And Heraphia—Goddess damn her—knew that this was the time to corner me for information because of how quickly I’d give in for a chance to rest and bathe.
Not only that, I’d kept something so important from my best friend, it must have felt like a betrayal.
I swallowed around the lump of panic in my throat, rising with the phantom memory of what I’d Seen all those years ago. “It was my very first vision.”
Heraphia’s brows shot up her forehead. As did Zuriel’s.
“You knew all along he was your mate?” Zuriel pressed, frowning.
I shook my head. “I only knew what he looked like. I didn’t know it was the fucking Issaraeth,” I hissed out his title like it stung me to even say.
“To be fair, it’s not like the Elessarum kept a shrine to the crown in the temple,” Heraphia shrugged.
“Thank you,” I said, throwing my hands in the air. “I tried to draw him, but every time I put charcoal to paper, it came out wrong. Like the edges of the vision were fuzzy, and my fingers couldn’t translate what was so harshly seared into my mind’s eye.”
“You’re a much better dancer than painter,” Heraphia commented, her lips twitching into a smile.
It was true. I’d excelled during our dance classes and been the bane of our art tutor’s existence.
Mostly because when I fell into the rhythm of movement, I almost felt like I could shed the cloak of the visions that haunted me.
Like I was dancing inside the eye of the storm, finally still and finally free.
When the music stopped, I was incandescent and eclipsed all of my problems.
All I’d wanted as a youngling was to spend my life on tiptoe, performing. Now, that would never happen.
“Do you think he knows?” Zuriel asked quietly.
Our light mood darkened. “He could. Maybe that’s why he knew where to find us. Maybe some other Seer under the Korona’s control showed me to him?”
Heraphia picked at a cuticle. “If that were true, he would have used his Command on us in the middle of the night rather than approaching during the day.”
“I could have spooked him after I saw him in town,” Zuriel mused, drumming his fingers on the table. “He could have thought if I returned we’d all be gone by the time he made it there, no matter the hour.”
“Either way, it doesn’t matter,” I snapped. “I can never allow our bond to snap into place.”
All of us were silent for a long moment.
“Which is why we need to get far, far away from here. Maybe we can go to the coast and hire a ship to take us to Deli,” Zuriel tossed out.
“Except that’s a huge risk. We have no money, and any captain would take one look at Heraphia and me and know why we were fleeing. If the Elessarum hasn’t maintained a reliable ship all these years, there’s no way we can make it happen now.”
Zuriel’s hand curled into a fist.
I understood it, I truly did. The anger. The frustration. The helplessness.
I wasn’t trying to be negative; I was bracing myself for the oncoming squall.
Staying alive and free were proving increasingly difficult.
Heraphia covered her mouth, trying to hide a yawn. Zuriel’s attention snagged on it anyway. “Let’s go to bed. We can speak more in the morning, after our minds and bodies are rested.”
We cleaned up our meal, putting all the dishes back where we’d found them and arranging the chairs like they’d never been moved at all.
The entry still held our belongings, and we scooped them up on our way to the opposite side of the manor.
All of us too tired to speak further, we wound through the maze of halls until Zuriel found his room.
Normally, I’d stay in the guest wing, but right now, distance was our enemy.
So I claimed a disused room across from his. The moment the door swung shut behind me, I raced to the attached bathing chamber and turned the taps for a bath.
To put it nicely, I stank. And I couldn’t sleep in my own filth.
When it came to cleanliness, I could be a bit…fussy. Which made life on the run so much harder.
I opened a large window beside the tub, allowing the dusk breeze to filter through.
Inhaling deeply, I stood on my toes, arms reaching toward the sky. On the exhale, I dropped, taking a few leaping bounds across the tile floor. I lost myself to crescents, airsteps, and waterfalls for a few brief minutes, trying to dance away the terror that dug into my marrow.
The bath nearly overflowed by the time I remembered to check on it again.
Stripping out of my clothes, I sank into the water, groaning. Violet-scented soap washed layers of grime away, and I had to drain and refill the tub twice before I finally felt clean.
Afterward, I used the remaining bathwater to rinse my clothes, then laid each piece out to dry.
Returning to the sleeping chamber, I yanked the sheet off the four-poster bed. Then, I grabbed linens from a nearby cabinet and fitted them over the mattress and pillows.
My eyes were heavy, leaden things when I rested my naked body against the plush feathers. Yet that stagnant wrongness clung to the air, like static before the first strike of lightning.
Fear fought with fatigue when all I sought was peace.
Respite was within reach, yet it slipped through my fingers each time I snatched for it.
I debated about going to Zuriel and Heraphia’s room and climbing into bed with them. But I had nothing to wear, and that would have been awkward.
My feet hit the cool floor. I padded to the wardrobe and yanked on the hook. Inside, more linens waited, but among them was a silky robe. I shrugged it on and tied the belt around my waist.
Honestly, both had seen me in less. And I them.
I crept into the dark hall, peeking down each corridor in search of any intruders. Yet as I approached their door, soft cries reached my ears. I froze, breath catching in my throat as I waited for another sound.
If they were coupling, I definitely didn’t want to intrude.
Heraphia’s sob tightened my ribs. I eased closer, my steps featherlight.
What could Heraphia possibly be crying about?
We hadn’t spent enough time at the other estate to grow attached to it or anyone around it. I’d grieved my fair share of places and people. But at the moment, I felt nothing.
I pressed my ear to the smooth barrier between us. Heraphia whimpered. Zuriel shushed and soothed her, but his words were too muffled to hear.
My fingers twitched toward the twisted metal handle. If they weren’t having sex, I could still enter, still sleep with them so I felt safe enough to close my eyes. My palm wrapped around the gilded knob.
“I’ll ride into town, early, and send off your prophecy. No one will see me at the aviary.”
I froze.
Heraphia had Seen something? Encompassing enough for Zuriel to name it a prophecy? And to want to share it?
A storm of emotion swirled inside me. On the one hand, it wasn’t a vision of our imminent capture by the Issaraeth and the other royal hunters. On the other, his even tone, crumbled to bits and hoarse, shook me to my core.
Whatever she had Seen, it wasn’t good.
A haunted, malignant energy rippled from within the room. I released the handle and took a healthy step back. This was why I made virelthorn my religion. These dark prophecies, flashes of violent futures, promises of death and decay, it was all a curse.
An understanding of sorts existed among Elessarum Seers that we wouldn’t press for details. For many of us, it was too traumatic to speak of what we’d Seen.
Especially for those of us who snapped into our power far too young. An Angel reached initial maturity at one hundred and sixty, and most came into their power in the decade or two before that.
Heraphia and I had spent nearly half our lives with them by the time we came of age.
Dread prickled the tips of my fingers. I continued my retreat into the spare sleeping chamber, shutting the door with a little more force than necessary.
I locked it for good measure too, like that tiny key in the tiny hole would snuff out all opportunities for the Goddess’s magic to sneak into my mind and show me that which I did not wish to See.
I chewed a few more virelthorn leaves as I crawled back into the bed. A shiver wracked my frame, and I tugged the robe tighter around myself to ward off the otherworldly chill.
Gazing out the windows, I traced the moonlit shapes of potted citrus trees in the courtyard. Tried to calm my mind. Tried to slow my racing heart.
Eventually, my breathing evened. The exertion of fleeing caught up with me. My eyelids drifted closed.
And stayed.
Until a heavy knock tore me awake.