“Was I ever in any danger?” I whisper.
“Had you lost your necklace, or had someone snatched it, you would have been vulnerable. But I may speak your name freely when you wear it. I did not tell you because it was better to proceed with caution, and I feared the ruse would be too transparent if you knew. Yakim is not easily fooled.”
I suppose it makes sense. The fair folk, while not able to speak untruths, are able to sense them in others, though I do not agree with Zephyrus’ method of trickery. “What about the glass bottle you gave him? What was inside?”
“I’d like to think my powers are strong enough to create a bit of shimmering air.”
“Oh.” Quiet, uncertain.
He is somber as he says, “I would not betray you, not again.” He stares at me a moment longer before pushing away. “We must go. Hold this for me. Keep it safe.”
He passes the antidote into my hands. I slide it into my pocket, yet hesitate, fingers curled in my heavy gown. “I can’t run in this.”
He yanks me from the chair and slings my pack onto his shoulder, having stowed it near the fireplace. “You don’t have a choice.”
We run—across the great room, out the door, down the stairs, navigating the wet, buckling boardwalk spanning the steaming bog. We leap onto a strip of high ground, which leads to a dirt lane cutting through the marshland.
We’re halfway down the road when a shriek of rage erupts at our backs.
Zephyrus jerks me along, our escape aided by the weak propulsion of air he buffets at our heels. I try to keep pace, but his long legs propel him faster, farther. A few steps later, the wind fails, and he begins to pant, sweat sliding down his face.
He cuts right, plunging off the road into the swamp. We sink knee-deep into the putrid water. Slime sucks at my boots as I trudge forward, the drag of my dress catching on whatever lurks in this dead, waterlogged place. The sky lies vague and shadowed above.
A crash behind us draws Zephyrus’ attention. “Grab hold,” he pants.
As soon as I grab his hand, a robust wind stirs around us, and we are flying through the air, up into the sweeping boughs of a nearby tree. There, we settle down to wait.
A beast thrice the size of a horse enters the clearing. Four limbs, a dripping maw, its spine pushed so severely against its thin skin I swear I see bone.
“Is that Yakim?” I whisper.
Zephyrus nods, a finger pressed to his lips.Watch,he mouths.
The demon lurches below, winding through trees, scenting out our trail. The fog overlaying the swamp must help mask our scents, because after a time, it moves off.
“What now?” I ask.
“The way I see it, we have one option.” Crouched amongst the branches, Zephyrus rubs his palms against his trousers, his cheeks pale despite the hard run. “We’ll have to kill Yakim.”
I hesitate, a bit uncomfortable with the implication, but if Yakim’s death makes room for Zephyrus’ life, surely the Father would make an exception.
I pull my dagger from the small of my back. “Tell me how.”
“No.” The word thrums with authority as Zephyrus catches my wrist, forcing me to lower the weapon against the folds of green fabric veiling the branch I sit on. “I’ll go alone. It’s safer that way.”
“What about the venom? The numbness?” I see it in his eyes, the apprehension of another wave hitting him while he’s vulnerable. Until the sun appears, Zephyrus can’t risk taking the antidote. “We should stick together.”
He falls quiet then, eyes downcast.
“What is it?” I shift closer, grabbing onto a higher branch for balance.
“You thought I had given you to Yakim. You thought I’d broken your trust.” Beneath the sopping tunic, his chest heaves erratically, each breath tripping into the next. “I have given you every reason to doubt my word, yet here you are. Maybe that’s why I fear placing the burden of my life onto you. I do not want to believe you might care for me out of fear that you do not.”
“Zephyrus.” I take his hand in mine. “Of course I care. Why do you think I’m here?”
“Who is to say you will not abandon me?”
How wrong he is. How like a child in this moment. “Look at me.” Reluctantly, he lifts his eyes, and my heart aches for the man he’d once been, the man he still carries with him despite the passing centuries. “If you think I would abandon you to a demon,” I murmur, “then you don’t know me at all.”
