Chapter 59 #2
Silas’s raised fist wavered inches from Zadriel’s face, his eyes wide. They were so much like the ravenous tides, boiling with wrath that could consume their prey as easily as they could patiently wait for things to fall into place. “Is this some Fae trick?”
Lifting his hand, Zadriel wiggled his fingers, sap gleaming. “You saw me gather it from the sands.”
“What kind of power is this?”
“There are many things in Arcadia your kind doesn’t know.
Many things Halflings did not share with their children.
But you know my kind cannot lie; answer my questions and I’ll give you Elodie’s magic.
” Willing the sap to slither around his palm, Zadriel didn’t miss the hope in Silas’s eyes, gold reflecting off deep, navy blue. “Do we have a bargain or not?”
Silas studied Zadriel’s face, considering his offer before sparing a glance back toward their camp where Elodie rested fitfully in the torn remains of their tent. “Fine. We have a deal.”
A pulse of warmth ran up their spines, twisting around their bones, and Silas’s nostrils flared. He said nothing, moving to sit across from Zadriel. Cracking his knuckles while he waited.
Pressure eased in Zadriel’s chest until he sat up, a stab of pain lancing through him. “You had to go and break my ribs,” he grumbled, pressing a hand to his side.
Silas pushed his long, brown hair away from his face. “Should I punch you again, see if it helps with the pain?”
“I don’t know, human.” Power thrummed around Zadriel’s heart, a pulsing surge that was somehow strange and familiar all at once. “Should I drop this back in the sand?” he asked, willing bits of sap to drip from his fingers.
A pallor clambered over Silas’s features, cracks lancing through his stony expression. “Wait!” he shouted, leaning closer with outstretched hands.
Zadriel caught the golden droplets in his other hand, warmth bleeding through his palm. “I suggest you start talking,” he said, a threat lacing his tone.
“Fine.” Silas settled back on the sand. “We stole Cillian’s things.”
It was a relief to know for certain Cillian hadn’t handed them the ring himself. But how had they come across it? Violence glittered in Zadriel’s dark stare. “Did you kill him?” Elodie claimed innocence, but that didn’t mean her guard hadn’t done her bidding.
Silas snorted. “No.”
“Did one of your thralls...”
He gave Zadriel a flat look. “We didn’t kill your precious king. We took everything from a King’s Guard in Moldenna.”
Zadriel’s next breath was lighter—the pain in his ribs ebbed to an aggravating itch, fractures slowly knitting themselves back together.
He mulled over his thoughts, stirring the warm sap in his palm and tracing lines up his skin, following the path of his veins.
Could the King’s Guard have murdered Cillian?
Would Zadriel get his revenge? “Why take it at all?” he asked, knowing it was no simple accident the crown had landed in their hands.
“Is it not obvious?” Silas wiped his nose on his sleeve, blood blending perfectly with the bright red material, streaks catching on the back of his hand. “To help us take the throne.”
Zadriel frowned. “You’re far from Moldenna.”
“Moldenna’s in good hands. We have other things to attend to for now.”
“Is this why you followed Aed—” He cleared his throat and looked to the caves, wondering if Aoife listened.
The tide crept closer, wind buffeting the sea stacks and clawing at their woody tops—was it simply nature stirring the ocean air or did a curious Elementalist direct its current to her ears?
She barely had the energy to stand after freeing him, but Zadriel decided to be cautious.
“You followed the queen because you need to end her before you take the throne.”
“As far as Berwick is concerned, the queen is dead.” Silas dragged a finger through the sand, the whisper of a soft smile on his face. “Elodie wants her crown. Something for herself after everything she’s been through.”
That first night on the road to Port Darford, everything they did to Jonah, was all in the name of claiming a bauble for the sheer sake of it? Zadriel scoffed. “She’s a noble, what kind of suffering could she truly know?”
“Still your tongue, Fae,” Silas snarled. “You know nothing of her suffering. Her power made her a pariah among her kin.” His cheeks turned ruddy, fingers curling in the sand—Zadriel hoped he didn’t lunge and break a few more ribs.
“And being queen will fix that?” he asked, careful not to roll his eyes. “Let me guess, she has fairytale delusions you’ll rule by her side as king? The people will never accept that.”
“It is you that dreams up fairytales. My sweetling prefers to work from the shadows, hiding in plain sight. Free from her cage.”
Squeezing his fist, Zadriel held Silas’s stare while gold dripped from his grip and landed in his other palm. “That’s not an answer to my question.”
Silas stiffened. “What do you want to know? That it’s not simply the two of us? That my only concern is to create a world where my Elodie can be free?”
“Was Cillian involved in these plans?”
Muscles tensed in Silas’s cheeks. He gave a quick glance to the ocean slowly creeping closer, already lapping up the base of Zadriel’s sea stack.
They didn’t have much time, but when the brute raised a brow Zadriel merely shrugged.
He wasn’t giving up Elodie’s powers until Silas answered his questions.
Silas sighed. “They wrote one another, for a time, thanks to her brother’s introductions.
Cillian helped Elodie realize her potential, teaching her she was more than the embarrassment her parents made her out to be.
He had Elodie imagining a better world for all Halflings.
” He tossed his handful of sand back onto the ground.
“I doubt you’re surprised to hear that vision died along with him; as soon as the riots began, we knew we needed to change course.
It’s become clear there’s only one remaining option. ”
Zadriel raised a brow. “And that might be?”
“To reinstate the Laws.”
Time slowed, the rhythmic splash of the tide fading into the recesses of Zadriel’s mind. The kiss of the winds growing dull. “You can’t.”
Silas’s look was pitying.
What purpose could that have? Were they mad? “In what world is that safer for Elodie?” Sap writhed on his skin, pushing against his scars as if it wished to burrow into his veins and join the pressure building around his heart. “They’d send her to the cloisters along with everyone else.”
“Have you witnessed the violence across Berwick? How is this a good life for her? For anyone?” Silas snarled, slamming his fist on the ground.
He leaned closer, a dark glint in his eyes.
“There was a time when Halflings who couldn’t hide themselves were locked away and the people felt safe, including any with power who had the self-control to blend in.
That is the world Elodie will help reinstate; things will be different with the return of the Laws and the right person in power. Elodie will be free.”