“You have questions,” she says, smirking, though her tone is softer now. “I’ll answer them as best I can, but I warn you—some answers may not sit well with you.”
I draw in a steady breath, straightening my back as I meet her gaze. I nod. Those are acceptable terms.
Zyphoro and I settle ourselves on the deck, the afternoon sun pouring down over us. Unlike Daed when we were in Pariseth, Zyphoro seems to bask in the warmth just as much as I do. But then again, she’s been locked away in that cursed room for over a century. I imagine even the smallest pleasures feel like a luxury to her now.
“I’ll start with what I know,” she begins, her voice losing its playful edge. “The Mordorin are the only Fae who harness the void. It’s what grants us the ability to void walk. Older Fae, like Arax, can manipulate smoke, bend it to their will. Then there are Fae like Daedalus and me—so deeply attuned to the void that it’s become part of us. We wield powers beyond what most Fae could even dream of. But the price is steep. The Father Below demands a sacrifice for such gifts.”
“Queen Veloria. How did she die?” I mutter under my breath, and I instantly regret it.
Zyphoro’s eyes darken, a flash of something bitter crossing her face. “Yes. Queen Veloria. What I know for certain is as Daedalus came into this world, our mother was taken from it, and in return, he was infused with the void. But then there was me.”
She leans back with a mischievous grin, a sharp edge of satisfaction in her voice. “I was the surprise. They never expected me to follow Daedalus, let alone consider that I, too, would be touched by the void. And while Daedalus is seamless with it, the perfect weapon molded by Gygarth, I... well… Let’s just say that I’m a little moreunpredictable.”
The grin lingers on her lips, but there’s a darkness beneath her words.
“Daedalus’ bond with the void is both his greatest strength and his undoing,” Zyphoro says. “When he’s in control, he can resist it. But the moment he’s vulnerable—whether through fear, doubt, or weakness—Gygarth and Lanneth can bend him to their will. They can make him do things he’d never choose for himself. When they realized I couldn’t be controlled the same way, I was tricked, imprisoned in that dungeon, and glamored out of everyone’s memory. Some might say I was the lucky one.”
My heart races as her words settle in. Could this be the reason behind Daed’s betrayal? Could Gygarth and Lanneth have controlled and manipulated him? A fragile spark of hope flickers within me, but it’s quickly snuffed out as Zyphoro leans closer, her piercing gaze locking onto mine.
“I couldn’t leave my cage,” she continues, her voice barely more than a whisper. “But I could split a part of myself away—only for brief moments. It tore at my very soul, hurt worse than anything I’ve ever known. But it was the only way I could reach you. You see, I saw you when you first arrived in Baev’kalath, through the window in my little cell, though it appeared empty to the rest of the world. And I knew immediately what they planned for you.”
Zyphoro flicks her wrist, conjuring a wisp of smoke that dances between her fingers like a flame, casting eerie shadows across her face. “What if I told you that what I’ve done so far is just a fraction of what I’m capable of? That at full strength, I don’t just control smoke and ash—I control the void itself. If I wanted to, I could tear open the very fabric of this world and swallow it whole. And after what I’ve suffered, I’d say it would only be fair.”
A shiver runs down my spine. “Is that… something you want to do?” I ask, my voice barely steady.
Zyphoro tilts her head, pondering for a moment before giving a half-hearted shrug. “Not today. But even if I did feel like annihilation, I couldn’t. My power is fading. It’s subtle, but I can feel it, which means Daedalus feels it too. Gygarth is hungry again. Apparently, a few hundred years without consuming a pregnant woman gets under his skin.”
Her casual tone makes my stomach churn. I try to hide my horror, but Zyphoro’s sharp eyes catch everything.
“I’m sorry if my manner offends you,” she says, her smirk barely there. “But Fae and humans are different. Death is not so… shocking to us. The point is, when I saw you, I knew you were to be the next feast for the beast. My dear brother was to plant a Fae child in your human body, and when it was ripe, they’d crack you open like a melon and toss the scraps to the void. To Gygarth.”
I flinch, turning my head away from her, trying to block out the image. I can’t be as calm as she is, not when she’s speaking so coldly about my life, about Daed’s role in my death. “And if I were to die,” I say, my voice trembling, “your power would grow stronger,?”
“Oh, yes.”
I stare at her, the pieces falling into place. “Then why did you warn me? Why save me if it means you’ve lost your chance?”
Zyphoro’s expression softens, but only slightly. “Power was never something I asked for. It was a curse—paid for with the blood of the mother I never knew. I’d rather have nothing than live with the weight of what I am. So, I told you to run. It took you longer than I expected. Humans can be a little slower on the uptake… but… here we are.” She stretches her arms to the sky. “In the sun.”
There’s a stillness between us, a heavy silence as Zyphoro’s revelations settle in. Shadows no longer lurk in corners—they’re laid bare before me, leaving nowhere to hide. But none of it…not one word she’s spoken… redeems Daed. Only damned him further.
There’s no comfort in her truths, only more pain.
“Lanneth says Daedalus knew what would happen to me,” I say, my voice trembling. It’s almost too much to ask, too terrifying to speak the words aloud. “Is that true? Did he know I would be sacrificed?”
Zyphoro’s gaze sharpens, her head tilting with a faint smirk. “What would you like me to say?” she asks, as if testing me, her curiosity cold and detached.
“No,” I answer without hesitation, clinging to the hope that the truth is less terrible than I fear.
I want to hear that this was all some twisted misunderstanding, that Daed was a pawn.Just as I was.
“Then no,” she says, and her eyes bore into mine, watching me too closely, like she’s dissecting my emotions, learning something foreign through the agony that twists my face.
I wish I could leave it there—accept the lie, bury the truth deep inside and never unearth it.
It would be easier, wouldn't it? To pretend that Daed didn’t know. That deception did not taint the nights we spent in each other’s arms. But the truth gnaws at me, a relentless force, and I can’t stop myself.
“Isthat the truth?” My voice cracks, betraying the anguish inside me.
