But even as exhaustion pulls me under, the weight of that moonstone presses down on me, and I can’t shake the feeling that whatever it means—it will change everything.
The cot across from me is empty when I awaken.
I prop myself on my elbows, grateful to find the pain of Zyphoro’s wound has vanished. My fingers, though, will take more time, and I grimace when I accidentally put too much weight on them when I swing my legs over the side of the cot.
The moonstone.
It’s haunted me since I closed my eyes, and if I dreamed, I’m sure it would have followed me there too.
I climb to my feet and make for the cabin door, and when I open it and warm sunlight spills in, I can’t help but feel that we have made it. That we have truly escaped. I walk onto the deck and see Solena leaning on the railing, lost in her thoughts as she gazes at the clear sky. At the opposite end of the ship, Arax and Zyphoro stand huddled in discussion, and whatever they are talking about, I very much want to be a part of. I stride across the deck, feeling Solena’s eyes on me as I approach the two whispering Fae, and I have only one question on my lips.
“Who are you?” I demand.
She half turns, her fingers steepled. “I am Zyphoro.”
“That much I know,” I bite, aware that she is toying with me. “But who are you,truly? Why were you in that glamored prison? Why does Lanneth fear you?” Then there is the question that burns at the forefront of of my mind. “Who gave you that moonstone?”
“Ah,” she says with a grin. “That is what youreallywant to know, isn’t it?”
I don’t reply, fighting to keep my control even though I am desperate for her answer.
“This belonged to someone very special to me,” Zyphoro replies, her fingers gripping the stone. “A long time ago.”
My eyes find Arax as I try to put the pieces together, and he bows his head, almost separating himself, leaving me to figure this out alone.
“I… I have seen another stone, just like it. In fact, I believe it to be its other half.” A lump burns in my throat, and though my feelings about Daed are still uncertain, I must know. “Did Daedalus give you that stone?”
Her chin dips, and she looks at me from beneath her brow. “Yes.”
An ache grips my heart and chokes it. “Are you… are you and he…”
Zyphoro’s brow furrows, and she takes a moment to understand my meaning, and when she throws her head back and laughs. I can’t help but feel that she is mocking me.
“Do not laugh at me!” I snap tersely. “Tell me. Are you his lover?”
My anger silences her laughter, and for the first time there is some seriousness on her face.
“No. Daedalus is not my lover.He is my brother.”
“Twin brother,” Arax exhales.
Zyphoro looks down at the stone clenched between her fingers. “When this was whole, it belonged to our mother, the Queen Veloria. After she was murdered, our father had it cleaved and gave us each a piece.”
“Brother…” The idea did not even cross my mind, but now I see it so clearly. The dark curls, the sea storm eyes, a charisma and confidence both infuriating and alluring. They are cut from the same cloth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Daed never told me.”
“There is much Daedalus has not told you, and only half of that is his fault. Our family history is a long, dark tale that frightens even me.” She smiles. “And I do not scare easily.”
“You seem awfully cheery for someone who has been locked in a cage and haunting Baev’kalath for hundreds of years,” I say, not realizing my tone is a little rude until after I’ve said the words.
Zyphoro simply sighs. “The first fifty years were unpleasant, but after that, I developed a sense of humor about it. The rest of the time flew by.”
Arax lets out a low chuckle, the sound deep and knowing, and when Zyphoro catches his amusement, she laughs too—a soft, melodic sound that’s oddly comforting. I stand there, watching them share this moment, and suddenly I feel entirely out of my depth. These two Fae have seen centuries pass, have witnessed wars, kingdoms rise and fall, the birth of stars, and the crumbling of empires.
What must it be like to measure time not in years or decades, but in lifetimes?
To have watched mortals love and die, generation after generation, while you remained untouched by it all? They have witnessed more than I could ever imagine—an endless horizon of time that stretches behind them like a shadow I’ll never reach.
I fall silent, my gaze drifting toward the horizon as I process everything I’ve just heard. Zyphoro notices, her eyes sharpeningas they take me in, her arms folding casually across her chest, but there’s a subtle intensity in her posture.
