The circlet between the large, black, wickedly sharp horns, if it was a circlet, was not made of metal. It might have been stone, or wood, or painted bone. Zelli wanted to touch it, but only got his arm up as far as the figure’s knee.
Their skin was warm and bloomed violet beneath Zelli’s palm.
The figure smiled at him. That was warm too. They gently picked up Zelli’s hand to hold it and Zelli’s wrist and part of his forearm filled with pink and then orange, like just-ripened peaches in the summer sun.
He felt himself smiling back although the colors began to run blue, pale like spring water.
“I wish—no,” Zelli stopped there and altered his words though words felt unnecessary. “I would have liked to have known you were proud of me,” he whispered to his other parent and let his eyes close for a moment at the gentle touch to the side of his face. “I think you were trying to help me.” It was difficult to get his eyes open again, which was worrying, but the worry was vague. “I’m sorry I was upset. It’s different with humans. There’s so much to be embarrassed over.”
He glanced to the others, all of them wearing sweet, woeful expressions that made his eyes sting, then back to Bree, who was very calm for someone surrounded by the fae. She must not see them.
Zelli must be very close to death, then.
He focused on his parent and the shining tears in their black eyes, how gently they smiled.
“It’s much to ask, but you will keep them safe? Grandmother and the guards, and Bree and the village? The valley? You will keep them safe through all this? I don’t have anything to offer. But I would like that. Are you keeping me warm?” Zelli’sskin was so pale it was nearly white except for where it bloomed deep pink. Like a camellia, Tahlen had said. “Tahlen.” Zelli could say it clearly now, if he was speaking; Bree glanced to him occasionally but didn’t seem to hear him. “You’re fond of him. Will you…?”
Beyond the ring of fae watching over Zelli were new figures, tall and human, dressed, most of them in the summer cloaks of Tialttyrin sworn guards. They didn’t look at Zelli, but swung their heads in the different direction, toward the gate.
Bree turned that way, flinching, then looked across Zelli’s body to Esrin, who slid onto her knees at Zelli’s other side. She was dripping with rain and frowning as if Zelli done something new to irritate her.
She and Bree were the only ones not turned toward whatever was going on at the gate. She also had no interest in the naked fae around her.
Zelli focused on Esrin with effort. He wanted to tell Bree to stop pushing on the wound, that there was nothing to be done and he could not breathe, but her hands were gone. So he stared at Esrin until her brow furrowed with some new upset and her lower lip trembled before she flattened it.
“Tahl….” Zelli was rather pleased with himself for getting it out. “Tahl,” he repeated urgently.
Esrin bent over him to hear him, then met his stare. She gave one firm nod. It was her voice that was unsteady. “I’ll watch over him for you, Tialttyrin.”
Esrin understood. Zelli collapsed in relief, breath hitching because he couldn’t sigh.
He turned to his parent and touched them again to see the colors. “Keep her safe too, please, if you can.”
Words that required no breath. Zelli would find that fascinating later.
Or not, he supposed.
A small hand cupped the side of his face. Black eyes met his, sad and wonderful.
“I wish I had known you,” Zelli told them honestly.
“Mizel,” they answered, cobweb-soft, as soothing as honeyed tea. “My Mizel.”
Someone was crying. Maybe it was one of the guards, although that seemed strange. Maybe it was Esrin, but that seemed even stranger.
He looked for whatever it was they were all looking at, the guards and the fae and Bree and Esrin. Down toward the gate, but for Zelli really just toward his feet. Where Tahlen stood, breathing hard, his helmet gone, mud and blood splattered across his face and into the braid that had fallen over his shoulder.
A pole-axe as bloodied as he was fell from his hand. Zelli didn’t hear it land.
If Tahlen was here, it meant Grandmother was safe. That would comfort Tahlen later.
Zelli couldn’t see his silver rowan at Tahlen’s neck. If Tahlen wore it, the collar of his doublet concealed it. Unhappy, Zelli looked up from that to Tahlen’s beautiful face.
“Please,” Zelli said to the fae starting to appear less and less human as the air grew heavier. “I know I’ve asked too much. But another wish: don’t let him be alone.” Zelli had nothing to give in exchange but his blood, which was likely everywhere. Tahlen wouldn’t like that, but it was Zelli’s blood to offer.
Zelli looked to Tahlen again.
Tahlen’s dark eyes were hollow, the lovely brightness giving way to something cold. Zelli held tight to the hand in his.Please, he asked again as Tahlen reached for the knife at his belt.
