Page 111

“The offer will remain open. I am staying at my cottage for the time being.”

He stares at me another moment, then turns and walks off without a proper farewell. I fight the urge to chase after him, to beg him for forgiveness. To tell him that I did everything wrong and I want the chance to make it better.

But what good would that do?

Taking a fortifying breath, I wait until I can no longer hear him, and then I continue my journey down the corridor to finish my search for the files that I need. It is our only hope left to fight the upcoming war, and my faith in this cause—for the first time in a long while—is starting to crack.

As much as I wish to return home immediately, I need to meet with Sabik. He answered my message just as I was finishing up for the day, and after hearing rumors that Prince Jyrion left the capital early and hasn’t been seen for hours, I decide it’s the best and safest time to visit him.

I know I’m being watched. Not as carefully as some, but since the attacks on the portal from the Earth side, and the growing resentment in humans, most of the Vyastil elite are on edge. Our relationship with the humans is young and fragile, and while we want them to believe we could overpower them in a moment, the reality is that, without the help of other Eretharians, we would lose that war.

And by the gods, I cannot imagine what those humans would do to Vyastil they captured. They would not keep us in mines.

I have read their history, and I do not like to think of what they will come up with. This problem must be solved before violence takes the place of rationality.

I step outside to use a portal to the Outerlands when I notice a storm off in the distance. It is the season for them, and every instinct I have is telling me to rush home and be with Luca. The first one Kori ever experienced left him shaking and terrified.

I do not want Luca to be alone for that, but the time I have for Sabik is short, and it’s yet one more reminder that right now, duty comes before anything else. Regret wraps itself around my insides as I press the portal key to the lock and input my destination.

The guard doesn’t look at me twice as it opens, and I step through and glance around. I’m closer to the storm now, and if I want to beat it to the caves, I must run.

The Outerlands right now is somber after Jyrion took his anger with Cielo and Rathyn out on a single village, and the rest of the villages haven’t recovered. There are cooking fires, but no song. There are Vyastil walking around, but they do not meet each other’s eyes.

And every time they see someone like me, all I can scent in the air is fear.

I want to collect them all and tell them that it won’t always be like this. That I am not like everyone else. But I’ve given them no reason to believe me—nothing to have faith in other than the promise that if they step out of line, entire generations will be sent underground and starved to death.

So I turn, my claws digging into the ground, as I begin to run.

I make it up the mountain in a few quick strides, ducking into the cave before the winds begin to pick up. The trail is easy to follow, and eventually I move into the massive room that has been carved out for the Tarek for eons.

I stare around at the etchings on the walls—the ancient prayers, the history that most of the Vyastil have long-since forgotten. I trace a few lines with my claw, but before the moment can get to melancholy, I hear Sabik coming.

His tentacles have a very distinct sound as they push him along the cave floor, and when he appears, I can see he’s dripping wet. Even with all of my knowledge, I do not know where most of the Tarek reside, but I do know they have access to water in ways we do not.

I bow my head as he approaches, and he does the same.

“It’s good to see you so soon, my friend.” He glances behind me, then looks surprised. “You are alone.”

It takes me a second to realize who he’s looking for. “Yes. I was given an assignment in the capital archives today and could not bring my Luca.”

Sabik hums in the back of his throat, the trilling sound cascading around us. “He is…a unique one. It is a wonder they let you keep him with such a defect.”

My skin flutters, and my ears pull back with anger. I have since lost the instinct to believe that Luca has any sort of defect. His lack of hearing has never stood in his way.

“Forgive me,” Sabik says. “I did not mean to imply he was unworthy.”

I take a breath and give a single nod. “Even the council understands that humans are…” Different? That being imperfect means nothing because they are beneath us? It’s hard to find the words to describe.

Sabik simply nods his head in understanding. “Well, it is a shame he is not here. I have been practicing his language. It’s one of the more fascinating ones. It is a wonder we do not have something like it on Erethar.”

I understand what he means. Signed languages are expressive and almost instinctual. Their lexicon is built on culture and relationship to shared experiences, and for Luca, it means even without access to his mind, I can read him.

I know how he’s feeling in his most subtle expressions and gestures, and he finds no reason to hide any of that from me.

“I will bring him to see you soon,” I say, though it’s hard to get the words out when I’m feeling so possessive. The feeling has been growing over the last few days, and it’s starting to become a concern.

Sabik comes a little closer and his head tips down toward me before his eyes widen. “Your breeding time is nearing.” The fact that he can scent it on me is not a good sign. “Does your VySytheh know?”