His words punched a hole through me, and I wrapped my arms around my stomach as though it would hold me together. He’d only wanted me for access. “Why me? You could have targeted Yael or Gidon or Stefan.”
“I considered it.” His voice was pained. “You left an opening.”
My stomach hollowed out with horrified hurt. “Because I said I was betrothed to the demon Daziel,” I whispered.
“Yes.”
“But—but how…” What were the chances Daziel needed an in with one of just a few people, and one of them dropped his name as their betrothed? “Did you use a spell on me? So I picked your name.”
He didn’t say anything.
Horror slid through my body like a sheet of ice as another option occurred to me. “Is your name really Daziel?”
He looked away, then back, his eyes bleak and empty. “No.”
Though I’d half expected it, it hit me like a tidal wave. I sank down on the grass, right in the middle of the garden. The perfectly good café-style chair stood a few feet away from me, but I needed to be curled around my stomach. “Oh my god.”
“My name is Cathmeus.” He crouched down in front of me, speaking urgently, like the words had been inside him for a very long time. “I wanted to tell you. I’m sorry,” he said, words I wished weren’t necessary. “I was trying to do what I thought was best. I didn’t want to hurt you.”
I tried to sound sharp and pithy, but instead my words came out small and sad. “Well, you did.”
He closed his eyes. “I know.”
I turned away, looking up at the fluttering blossoms against the sky. I wanted to scream and rage, but what good had that ever done anyone? The only thing that did any good was moving forward.
Your inevitable heartbreak?my aunt had said.I’ll accept that as collateraldamage.Brutal, I’d thought, mostly amused. I hadn’t realized how brutal it would be.
The worst thing was, I understood his—Cathmeus’s, Daziel’s—motivation. I probably wouldn’t have done what he’d done—but who knew? These stakes were higher than one person’s happiness. As he’d said, he knew if he lied I’d let him stay, and if he truly thought that would help him save the Ziz, fix the magic…I don’t plan to break Naomi’s heart, he had said, and maybe he hadn’t, but like my aunt, he probably accepted it as collateral damage. “You did it for a noble cause. To save the world. How can I be mad about that?”
He tilted his head. “Very easily.”
I huffed out a breath tinged with laughter. “True. But I understand why you did it.”
Daziel—I could only think of him as Daziel—reached for my hand. “Naomi. Just because I lied about my reason for coming here—I didn’t lie about—”
“Don’t,” I said sharply, pulling back. He flinched, his hand falling to his side. Good—I wanted him to hurt like I did. I didn’t want to have to be gracious and forgive him. “Let’s focus on the Ziz. If it’s dying, and the scrolls are our only chance to save it, we need to decipher them as soon as possible.”
Daziel watched me unhappily but didn’t say anything.
“You’re right.” I pushed to my feet. The wind was starting to pick up, and low purple clouds brooded on the horizon. “I don’t think it’s fair—or even wise—to keep this to ourselves. But I agree you shouldn’t get cut out. We need to tell people in a way that ensures we stay in the loop. Or—can you go invisible and watch what’s happening?”
Daziel stood too, managing a wry smile. “You’ll be shocked to hear this, but some people, like Sanhedrin members, are better at warding me away than first-year Lyceum students.”
Harsh. “Okay, fair.”
“There’s one other thing.” He fidgeted, nervous, like when he admitted he’d eaten the chocolate croissant I’d been saving for my afternoon snack. “We don’t know where the Ziz is.”
This took a few seconds to sink in. “Wait, so—we decipher this spell, and then…don’t know where to cast it?”
He nodded.
I leaned heavily against the table. “Pleasetell me your people are working on finding the Ziz, even if they’re not skilled at cryptography.”
He grimaced. “Remember how you thought I’d run away from home to explore Talum?”
My gut sank. “Daziel…”
“I’m not technically supposed to be here.”
