CHAPTER 38
ZEPHYR
Four days ago
TENSION LINED EVERY MUSCLE ON MY BODY THE MOMENT I PUSHED THE DOOR TO THE ARCHIVES OPEN. The lock was undone, yet not a single candle was lit inside. I was instantly on high alert, any plans of digging through the high-security files dead as I braced to confront whoever hid in the darkness.
Acutely aware of the empty straps in my vest, I shut the door behind me, then locked it from the inside. I could not see, whoever my adversary was rendered as invisible in it as the ink etched along my sternum allowed me to become. But that wasn’t the only skill I possessed.
Drawing on my psychokinesis, I reached out, using its added sense to search for anything that might be out of place.
There they were.
Strewn over a desk tucked in the furthest corner of the archives, I felt stacks of papers and books, as well as a candle I’d bet was still smoldering.
I walked down the aisle on soundless feet. As I drew nearer, I heard it—the faint racket of breathing.
I’ve got you.
Not wanting to give my adversary the chance to catch me off guard, I lunged.
My body collided with theirs, trapping them against one of the tall bookshelves lining the room. All the air was stolen from my lungs when a fist buried into my stomach, a low wheeze falling from my lips.
Bastard.
Pushing through the breathlessness and the pain, I snatched their wrist. It was surprisingly lean, considered the force behind their punch.
They fought my grip but I held on, leaning in again, using the entirety of my body to pin them fully against the shelves, both of their arms now caught in mine.
“Zephyr?”
Just as the familiar call of my name registered, the scent of pines and wild breeze tickled my nostrils. And if those hadn’t been enough of a giveaway, the shape now pressed against mine would’ve been.
Because of course it was Davina Lachlan slinking through the darkness.
“Am I also not expected to treat you like a criminal when you’re hiding in the dark, in a section you have no clearance to access, outside of a bedroom you’re not supposed to be able to leave without an escort?”
She didn’t miss a beat. “Did you know?” The accusation and betrayal in her voice were unmistakable, even in the darkness.
“Know what?”
I heard the grind of her teeth, but the tension had left her muscles. She had no intention of fighting me. Not with fists, at least.
Letting go of her, I retreated a step, praying that she wouldn’t do anything stupid as I called forth psychokinesis again, used it to reach for the matches I’d felt next to the candle, and lit it.
There she is.
Hair haphazardly tied into a ponytail that spilled down her back, loose red curls framing her face, she still wore her clothes from earlier, the fitted corset hugging every line, and the overskirt now slung to one side for comfort, revealing pale shorts that ended mid-thigh.
The dancing, orange flame didn’t illuminate much, but it was enough to discern the rage and hurt in those icy eyes.
I found myself wanting to hurt whoever was to blame. Badly.
“Know what, Lachlan?”
Her eyes blazed as she answered. “About Sircelen aiding the Sapless, from the start.”
My brow furrowed. “You mean from Keftara? I didn’t—”
“I mean from the start, Kentar.” My teeth clenched, both at her use of the surname she knew I despised and the accusation. Her arm shot to the side, pointy finger landing on the papers scattered on the desk at our side. “Did you know everything written in this file from the godsdamned start?”
My eyes fell to the paper sheets, knowing in an instant they were nothing I’d ever seen before.
Unease trickled down my spine. “What’s in the file?”
Her cheeks blazed, and I knew the sweet embarrassment I’d come to crave was not to blame this time. “There’s endless evidence of Sircelen collaborating with Kaelthorn’s cell, a lot of it dated before his death.”
My heart stopped, eyebrows shooting up as the implications of what she was saying began to sink in.
She must have seen the truth in my reaction, for she deflated. “You didn’t know.”
With a low exhale, I said, “I didn’t, no. I suspected there were things we hadn’t been told, though. That’s why I’m here.” I walked to the next desk, taking the chair and bringing it next to the one she’d been sitting in.
I could have demanded to know how she’d escaped her room, or how she’d managed to get past the lock to sneak in here, but the relevance of those matters right then paled in comparison to what she was saying and what it meant.
“Why don’t you start from the beginning, so that we can work together in figuring this mess out?”
One hour later, both of us poured over the last page of the report, detailing the steps of an investigation that was worryingly similar to ours, but dated from a year ago to almost a month in the past.
I was struggling to focus on the lines, and only the direness of the situation kept me from spiraling. The army’s high ranks had known all along. I would have bet my hand to claim that Tetteh had known all along.
Why wasn’t I told?
The question repeated itself endlessly inside my head, conjuring waves of dizziness that I fought to keep under control.
At my side, Davina went tense as a bowstring, and I was immediately on high alert.
“What is it?”
Instead of answering, she flipped through her journal.
I recognized the page she opened as the one where she’d scribbled Sircelen’s final riddle.
I could barely breathe as she traced her finger across the map stretched at the back of the desk, tapping a spot that had my heart thundering against my ribs.
Snatching up the old Kobrant-to-Arnian dictionary, she flipped through the pages, searching, no doubt for the word that had looped endlessly in my mind for the past hour.
It was a strange thing, to witness the exact moment in which she figured it out. The moment the pieces snapped into place, and a manic, victorious grin lit the whole fucking universe.
“Lachlan, what is it?” I insisted, even if I already knew.
“I figured it out.”
My eyes narrowed on her, my heartbeat escalating to a deafening drumbeat. Somehow, I managed to feign calm as I said, “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“These files settle on Kamar as the most likely place for the stash to hide in. Which means that not only could we have saved weeks of investigation.” Pure venom laces her words, and I find myself deeply echoing the sentiment, even if for different reasons.
“But also, that our predicament is exactly the same as whoever carried out this investigation, for there is no stash to be found in Kamar. I knew I’d missed something, though. Something wasn’t right.”
Dragging the registry back up front, she set it right next to the journal.
“And here it is. What both whoever put these files together and I missed the first time around.” The air in the room could as well have been syrup, thick as it was when it trickled into my lungs.
“This registry had purposely been kept from us,” she reiterated, leaving no room as to who’s fault she thought it was that we hadn’t been able to find Sircelen’s most important hideaway earlier.
“And yet, it’s precisely what’s given me the final clue. ”
Pride flashed in her eyes, and once again, I found myself agreeing with the sentiment, for despite how many high-ranking members of the King’s Army had had eyes on these data, she was the one to decipher them.
“Sircelen’s riddle,” she said. “It wasn’t Kamar. It was never about Kamar.”
I’d known, yet disbelief flared briefly in my gut at the realization that she had, in fact, figured it out. “What do you mean?”
She dragged her journal closer, snatching the pencil she somehow always had sharpened to a crisp point, then scribbled a single line. The air between us seemed to disappear entirely as she held the new words up for me to see.
“The land where the moon cries wasn’t Kamar,” she said.
“Yes, Kamar means moon, and the island was named that because of its shape. But . . .” she tapped the page in the report we’d been reading, then one on a dusty tome I’d seen her carrying around.
“There’s a record of a moon fragment crashing into Septune, thousands of years ago.
It struck the sea with such force that it formed a crater-island. One they named Kairis.”
She was so godsdamned smart it hurt.
“Kairis, which in Old Kobrant means—”
“Teardrop,” I finished for her.
Silence. Stunned, groundbreaking silence.
My gaze tore from the page, meeting eyes that were so clear and deep at once. Eyes brimming with excitement over sharing this discovery with me. Despite every lie and hidden truth, despite my efforts to anger her so that she’d stay away, and despite our respective orders.
She was so close, I could discern the lighter, silvery streaks in her eyes. Just then, I realized that was what made them almost glow.
“Davina Lachlan, you are brilliant.”
She smiled, and it was bright enough to rival the moon and the sun and every star in the firmament. “I know.”
And Gods, her confidence only made me want her more.
Every burden and concern, every reason why I’d stayed away this past week, it was all erased as I drowned in the sight of her.
This . . . This wild, radiant woman who could outwit an army and burn through me with a single look.
She was too perfect for this rotting world.
Brave to the point of recklessness, and smarter than it was safe to be. So damn beautiful it hurt.
Mine. The word pounded through my skull like a war drum.
When I managed to drag my eyes back up to hers, I found them locked on my lips. There was so little space between us. Just a breath. A whisper. One tilt of my head, and I’d be exactly where I ached to be.
There were a thousand reasons why I shouldn’t, but the only one in my soul was mine.
Mine, mine, mine.