“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.
