Chapter 24 #3
Another figure appears behind him—his hair short pink, and notably, all his piercings are gone. Just like mine. “Zynath,” I say, breathless with shock.
He stares me down for a long moment, then says, “I hope that human was worth what you did.”
“I was following orders,” I start to argue, but the words fall flat, because I was not following orders. The orders I was given to keep Everest out of Erethar superseded Rathyn’s safety. I knew this, but I could not turn my friend down.
Not after everything he did for me.
“Your punishment extended beyond your banishment,” Zynath explains, echoing what he said in my dream.
“Those of us who hatched with you are now living in dishonor. They will not offer me work, even in the fields. They have taken almost everyone from the village and sent them to the mines. Those of us left behind are sick. And we are starving.”
A cold chill runs up my spine. “They cannot punish you—”
“They can,” Alvayn says sharply. He has never spoken to me like this. “They have.”
I swallow heavily. If I tell them that I have Dante with me, they will likely turn us both in. In fact, I am surprised they have not done so now, though perhaps someone else left behind in the village has run to fetch a guard.
Alvayn seems to read my face because his ears droop. He looks tired, hungry, and sad. “We are not going to turn you in. Banishment is punishment enough.”
They must not have any idea what happens to those of us who are taken by the guard, because banishment was a balm to that pain. But I do not say that.
“I wish to help.”
“You cannot. We are forbidden from accepting any,” Zynath says, voice ragged.
“They will not stop you from thriving in the human world. My punishment was strict, but I am…happy.”
They both stare at me for far too long before Zynath finally speaks. “Happy. You are…happy?”
I cannot tell if he is angry or in shock.
“The humans and their world aren’t what we were taught. They are kind. They…”
“Enough,” Alvayn snaps.
I don’t listen to him. “I am safe. I have been fed cum—”
“Cielo!” His voice booms through the hills, but this time, I do not feel intimidated.
“I can speak their tongue. I have…I have touched them. They have fed me and cared for me. My human—my Dante—is VySytheh.”
The silence that falls is heavy, and they are both staring at me, clearly trying to uncover the lie. But we do not speak that word—not ever. Not unless it was true, and it has been many, many generations since a Vyastil has claimed a VySytheh of their own.
“How did you know?” Alvayn whispers.
I press a claw to my temple. “He is in here. Just like the ancient songs. He is…he is mine.”
“Is that why you brought him here?” Zynath asks. When my eyes widen, he scoffs. “Yes. We are aware there is a human in the trees. And even if we were not,” he stops and gestures behind me.
I spin, and my heart sinks to my feet. Dante is there, hunched over, making his way toward me.
“No,” I send him.
I feel him ignore me, and fear begins to take over. I will not let them touch him. I will not let Dante be hurt because of me. I came here to heal him, not to put him in more danger.
I cannot—
“Peace,” Alvayn says, and I realize I have been growling. “Peace.”
I ignore him for the moment, though the growl stops. Turning, I rush to close the distance between me and my Dante, and the moment my arms come around him, he collapses in pain. He moans softly against my chest, and I cradle him against me as I make my way back to my brothers.
“He is injured?” Zynath asks.
“Ill. I wish to speak to the Tarek in the caves and see if they can assist.”
Both of them turn their faces down, and I feel panic rising in me.
“Does the capital know—”
“No,” Zynath answers very quickly. “They do not. We would not betray them.”
Our treaty with the Tarek is fragile, and it is also personal. We have been protecting them for as long as I can remember, and it was the one act of resistance I believed in before Everest came along.
“I wish to help you,” I say, holding Dante tighter as he groans. “But I must heal my Dante first.”
“Dannnntee,” Zynath attempts to say. But much like me, he has not been given the gift of human language. “He is like the other? Commander Rathyn’s companion?”
I nod. “Yes.”
Though he is nothing like Everest, but that is a subtle detail I do not expect my brothers to understand just yet. The same way humans view all Vyastil as monsters, we feel the same about them.
“I met him,” Zynath says after a long moment. “He was…kind. He spoke to me as if I mattered. He openly defied the princes.”
And he paid for that, but I do not speak those words.
“Allow me to heal my Dante,” I say again. “Do not call the guards—”
“We will not,” Alvayn says quickly, touching his lips, then pressing his fingers to his chest in our most solemn vow. He steps forward and places his hand against the side of my neck, touching me for the first time.
It nearly breaks me.
It has been so long since I have felt any connection with a Vyastil. No matter how kind Quilliyn has been, or how tolerant Rathyn has become, they are not mine. Not my family.
Alvayn is.
“We did not agree with your sentence, Cielo,” he murmurs. “We feared the worst for you.”
“And yet it seems as though you bear the brunt of my punishment,” I tell him. Dante groans again, and I see that once more, he is sweating. “Do everything you can to remain in the village. I will heal him and take him back to Earth, and then…and then I will come for you.”
“Cielo,” Zynath starts.
“I will not force you, but I can promise you that there is a better life there. Missing Erethar is painful, but there is hope that it will not be forever. That somehow things here will change. For all of us.”
Zynath stares at me, then looks over at Alvayn. Their exchange is silent, but eventually he looks back at me. “Go.”
It is not an agreement, but it is also not a refusal. I nod, wishing to press foreheads with them, but there is no time. I must save my Dante.
And after that, I will see how I can save my people.