Raziel sat back in his chair, looking quite pleased with himself.
She couldn’t say that she blamed him.
“Then it is settled.” Raziel reached into his pocket and pulled out the gold coin that he had kept with him. He began to walk it over the backs of his knuckles. “You lot shall ensure that we arrive to the surface unharmed. And what you do with yourselves after? We do not give afuck. Are we agreed?”
Kalo didn’t speak for a moment, waiting to see if any of the other fae would object. But no one did. In fact, they were all looking to him. Kalo grinned in triumph, his silver eyes sparkling with victory. “We are agreed.”
“Good.” Raziel flicked the coin up into the air and caught it as it came back down. “Then let’s be on our way.”
“Not staying for the feast?” Kalo asked, his voice thick with sarcasm.
Raziel barked out a laugh. “I have had enough of fae hospitality.”
The journey to the surface of the main level of the metropolis took another full day.
Nadi had forgotten how long it was. How winding the tunnels became, how the familiar purple glow of the vines thinned and faded as they climbed higher through the Wild. The air grew drier, colder. The sounds of the creatures that called the depths home gave way to silence—the kind that felt wrong after so long surrounded by the chittering symphony of the underground.
Kalo had said little during the trek. He led them through passages she barely remembered, his silver eyes scanning the darkness ahead with the ease of someone who had made this journey a hundred times before. The beads in his hair clinked softly with each step, the only sound between them.
When Kalo finally stopped at the mouth of a tunnel that opened into a rusted maintenance shaft, Nadi knew they had arrived. Dim light filtered down from somewhere far above—artificial light. The light of the metropolis.
“This is as far as I go.” Kalo turned to face them. “The shaft leads up to an abandoned service building in the warehouse district.”
Nadi nodded slowly. She didn’t know what to say. “Thank you” seemed stupid and inadequate for everything that had passed between them.
Kalo reached into his pack and pulled out something wrapped in oiled leather. He held it out to her.
She unwrapped the leather carefully. Inside lay a pair of curved blades—fae-forged, by the look of them. The handles were wrapped in dark leather, worn smooth by use, and theedges gleamed with a sharpness that could only come from proper smithing. They were beautiful. Deadly. Perfect.
“Kalo…” Her throat tightened.
“They were my mother’s.” He shrugged as if it meant nothing, but she could see the tension in his jaw. “She would have wanted you to have them if she knew where you were planning to stick them.”
“I can’t?—”
“Consider it a loan. Return them when this is over.”
If it was ever over. If any of them survived what was coming.
She slid the blades into her belt, the familiar weight settling against her hips like an old friend.
Kalo grunted. Then he turned to Raziel, and something harder crept into his silver eyes. “And for you,vuampi.” He withdrew a pistol—human-made, but well-maintained. A box of ammunition followed. “Silver-tipped rounds. Should help with your family reunion.”
Raziel took the weapon, checking the chamber with practiced efficiency. “How generous.”
“Don’t mistake this for kindness, Serpent.” Kalo’s lip curled. “I want you to kill every last one of those bastards. If giving you a gun helps that happen faster, I’m happy to provide the means.”
Kalo’s attention returned to Nadi. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
“Be careful, little fish.” The words were soft. “The surface has changed since you were last there. Mael and Lana—and their Rosov allies—they’ve tightened their grip on the city. The humans have been subdued. Any pretense that the humans were in charge is gone now.” His jaw ticked. “There were riots, early on. They put them down hard. The metropolis is under what amounts to martial law. They’re blaming it on you two.”
Something cold settled in her stomach.
Then Kalo stepped forward and pulled her into a brief, fierce embrace. “Don’t die,” he muttered against her hair. “If you do, I’ll never forgive you.”
“I’ll do my best.”
He released her just as quickly, stepping back. “Go. Before I change my mind and drag you both back to the Grove in chains.”
