Chapter Fifty-Seven
Cypherion
“You rememberthat prophecy your queen is so afraid of?” I kept one hand on my horse, Erini, and my voice emotionless. “Stop talking or my count of fae lives taken won’t end with the royal line.”
“But what’s the point of so many blades?” Brystin nagged again. By the fucking Spirits, he was relentless. The howling desert night air was a better sound than his voice.
“You carry your own weapons,” I responded without looking at him. I hadn’t given in to his incessant questioning since the others left, and I wouldn’t now. “If you have to ask, then perhaps you’re using them wrong.”
His answering smile was evil. “I am a weapon myself. I carry a few, but not so many.”
I turned a blank stare on him, saying in a flat voice, “That’s foolish of you.”
“Is it foolish?” He tilted his head, pretending to wonder. “Or is it a well-honed tactic to disarm my opponents with my lack of protection? Surely, we could find out right now.” He held out his tied wrists. “If you want.”
I sighed with a shake of my head, not exasperated in the slightest. “You can try to deter me all you want, but my best friend is Tolek Vincienzo.”
Brystin sneered. “I don’t want to become your friend.”
“I wasn’t offering.”
“Then why mention it?”
“Because I’ve become an expert at chatter as a means of distraction, and I certainly won’t fall for any of your tricks.”
Barrett and Dax snickered. Even Lancaster, sitting in the sand with his elbows propped on his knees, added, “Cypherion has a point. That Vincienzo warrior is insufferable when he wants to be.”
“See,” I said to Brystin. “Half of my life has been spent with Tolek. I can tolerate your games.”
Brystin smiled an infuriating, smooth grin, but I tugged the rope attached to his wrists until he stumbled again and redirected my attention back toward the gates Vale had disappeared through.
Behind me, Barrett picked up bantering with the fae prisoner. A worthy opponent, as Dax’s occasional interjections reminded him. Where Brystin appeared to be trying to win with cool control, Barrett was wilder. Willing to say whatever would sway the argument.
Currently, he debated the male over whether warriors or fae made better candies.
Fine by me. Freed up my time babysitting to watch the Gates.
Malakai and Tolek wouldn’t let anything happen to Vale. Ophelia wouldn’t either. They’d all proved in rescuing her that she was embedded into our family as much as anyone else.
But fucking Spirits, last time we attempted something in a historic site like this, Vale and I had been in the Valyn archives. She’d fallen into her most consuming reading ever, and Tituscaptured us. The scars lingering on my mind from that night had yet to fade. And she’d been consumed by the Fates all night.
“I have a feeling Vale will not only be safe in there, but she’ll serve a purpose with that magic of hers,” Celissia said, approaching my side with her eyes trained on the structure behind the wall.
“What do you mean?”
Celissia gave a small smirk that was so much like Barrett’s, they could have been siblings, but hers was softer. “Call it intuition.”
I blew out a breath. Vale and Celissia seemed to have bonded since meeting. Perhaps it was because they were both newcomers to our tight-knit group—though they were eagerly welcomed, it had to be an adjustment. And Celissia had a way about her that made youwantto like her.
“What’s wrong over there?” I asked, inclining my head to where Mora sat with her back against the alabaster wall, one hand stroking Dynaxtar, the other holding one of Valyrie’s scrolls.
Celissia’s lips twisted to the side, and she dropped her voice. “That injury is still plaguing her. The arm is losing function by the day.”
I blinked at the fae. At the way she kept her injured arm cradled to her chest, but casually so. “Why didn’t she say anything?”
“She doesn’t want to frighten her brother. His magic isn’t helping, for whatever reason. Santorina and I have been doing what we can, but I worry it may not be enough.”
“She’ll die?” I barely muttered, but the others were loud enough that none of the fae could hear.
