Page 152

Story: Acolyte

Taly gave another nod, too numb to do anything else. And when Skye gave her hand a tug, she allowed him to pull her away from the center of the maze.

To lead her out of this place of death.

Chapter 32

-From the personal notes of Ivain Castaro, Marquess of Tempris

The 2ndday of the month Janus, during the 236thyear of the Empty Throne

Of all the villages hit by the Sanctorum’s raid, Vale suffered the greatest losses. In Plum and Bago—the destruction was centralized, as though the Sanctorum came, realized there was nothing there for them, and then retreated. In Vale, however, the damage was pervasive. The village wasn’t just burned—it was razed, reduced to nothing but ash and cinders.

We’re still not sure what brought the Sanctorum to the island. There are so many rumors circulating. Some are saying they were looking for time crystals while others claim there was a time mage hiding amongst the townspeople—a child. I do not know ifthis is true, or if the Sanctorum was successful in their quest. I can only hope that they failed. The death of a child would not validate the lives that have already been lost. It would only show how far we as a people have fallen.

The next few hours passed in a blur, and Skye might have thought he was hallucinating, that he might’ve actually lost his mind this time, were it not for the warm, steady weight of Taly’s hand in his.

They were both silent as she guided them back to the palace, and by the time they came to a large, well-stocked infirmary, he was thoroughly lost.

She helped him with his armor, lifting his breastplate and ruined shirt over his head when the pain got so bad that he couldn’t raise his arms. And while she worked, tutting and fussing and rubbing all manner of foul-smelling herbs and salves on his wounds until the bleeding finally stopped, he tried not to stare.

As a human, she had been beautiful.

As Highborn fey, even covered in blood and sweat… she was hypnotic. Still Taly, but with the tang of aether clinging to her scent now instead of mortal iron, a more graceful arch to her ears. And those gray eyes that seemed to almost glow, as if her body couldn’t quite contain the sheer force of her magic…

He had definitely been staring.

While they were in the infirmary, she told him a little about this place—where they were and“yes, that really was fairy fire.”

She also explained that during the four weeks she’d been gone, a year had passed for her. One full year in which she had lived and trained with a woman the world thought dead, honing the skills that had allowed her to hunt and kill a man thousands of years her elder.

He had been expecting the time differential, of course. She had said as much during those few shared dreams. But hearing her say it and seeing it firsthand, feeling every single one of those long months open up like a gulf between them and suddenly realizing therealityof it…

The girl who couldn’t kill a rabbit.

He wondered if there was anything left of that girl now. Wondered how it was possible to grieve her loss but also still find excitement in the obvious skill she had displayed—the raw intelligence and power he knew she had always possessed but now wielded with such vicious efficiency.

He wondered if there was still a place for him beside this new, fascinating creature—or if she had already left him behind. Again.

Ayear…

He probably should’ve said something. She had looked at him like she was expecting him to say something. But when the words wouldn’t come, she had just sighed and taken him by the hand, not letting go until they came to a large tower apartment. That’s where she had left him, mumbling something about going downstairs to clean up as she shoved him into the washroom and closed the door.

There were clothes waiting for him when he emerged: a shirt and trousers, both finely made and sewn from light summer fabrics. How they gotthere—or how they fit so well—he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. This day had already been strange and exhausting, and it wasn’t over yet. He would focus on the less important questions later.

Skye completed another circuit of the apartment. It had been almost an hour since Taly had left him here, and in that time, he’d explored every room and peeked into every drawer. With nothing else to do, and already hurting now that the pain tonic was starting to wear off, he padded into the bedroom on bare feet and eased himself front-first onto the mountain of blankets and pillows piled on the bed.

They still hadn’t talked—not about the things that mattered. There were questions he needed to ask, things she needed to explain. It wasn’t going to be an easy conversation, but… it had to happen.

He needed her to look at him and tell him why she hadn’t trusted him to help her.

Why she had lied. Why she had run away.

Why she had used the things she knew about him, those vulnerabilities it had taken a lifetime to learn, to hurt him again, and again, and again.

Skye winced as he turned over onto his back, holding a hand to his ribs.

At least, there was the bond. It was proof that she cared. Proof that even though his faith had been shaken, that trust wasn’t gone. At this point, the link between them was still incomplete. It wouldn’t take much to sever it, so the fact that it was still intact, even after the lies, the separation—that gave him hope.

Enough to quiet the doubts still churning his thoughts as he hoisted himself to his feet and began another circle of the apartment.