Page 200

Good. Look at me.“And now I fight … withhim.” She nodded to the side, pointing at Garrik. “To bring Magnelis to his deserved end. Though it seems difficult to find that trust within yourself, we aren’t the enemy, as I’m sure His Highness explained. We need your help.”

Tears shimmered in his eyes. “Hekilled them! My sister, Grandmother, and I watched ashe…” His young voice cracked, too pained to continue. “And I couldn’t even give them a proper burial after what he did. Not after?—”

“You never got to say goodbye, did you?” Alora cut in, stopping his spiral.

The male shook his head, mouth set in a hard line.

She lowered her palms, her fire dying inside. “Neither did I.”

“Neither did he.” It was Thalon’s voice. His inked finger lifted from the floor and pointed to Garrik, eyes pleading for forgiveness as Garrik swallowed hard.

Nobody said a word as Garrik’s head dropped against the wall, face taut, defeated. “You are not alone in your pain. None of you.” Garrik’s eyes shifted to the burned threshold beside the bed. A mirrored female likeness of the young male stepped out. Long wavy locks of blond fell from her head.

“I cannot alter the past, but I can fight to change the future. I cannot bring your parents back, but I make a vow to you that I will do everything within my power to help you avenge them in whatever recompense that means for you once it is all over.” Garrik’s hollow eyes shifted to Alora, squinting before he released a deep sigh and pivoted his head back to the young male.

The twin female stepped forward, motioning with her fingers in movements much like a dance.

Her brother watched and stiffened. Turning to the High Prince, he grabbed his sister’s hand and snarled, “You want us to join you,demon? Then you’ll need to save someone from a soulless death. Then, we’ll join you.”

Garrik lifted an eyebrow, silent for what seemed forever, straining and closing, then opening his hollow eyes.

And when he finally spoke, his voice was laced with unease, body stiffening unbearably. “You have a deal.”

“It was coming for her.”

Alora learned that the young male with short blond hair was named Zanayr. His sister, Nalani, spoke with her hands and not her voice. She was born without sound, not in her ears and no spoken words. Instead, her brother was her mouthpiece; she was his peace.

Twins who were both born with power.

The power of sound.

The power of silence.

Garrik knelt by the bedside, his icy hand wrapped around another—weathered and wrinkled.

“She’s dying, and the dragon was coming for its debt to be paid.”

Thalon leaned against the wall, pulling at his earlobe and extending his jaw. “Debt to be paid? Explain.”

The chest of a frail faerie rose and fell dangerously slow. Her gray skin, like both her grandlings showed nearly a millennium of hardship as she lay under a stained quilt. Zanayr sat opposite of Garrik, squeezing her other hand tight as he brushed a thumb there.

“She sold herself to the legend of this mountain. For Nalani and I. Once she passes, her soul will be caged. We live because she will suffer after death, forever tormented as it uses her face, her voice, walking Elysian in her likeness whenever it sees fit.”

Garrik’s face paled at the words, and he cursed.

Thalon did too.

“You agreed to save her from this fate.”

“Yes. And I will.”

Their Guardian uncrossed his arms and tensed. “Sire,no?—”

“I have made my deal.” He turned to Nalani, then back to Zanayr. “One of us will return to collect you once the debt is paid.” Twisting up, he loosened his hold on their grandmother’s hand, but she gently squeezed, almost unnoticeably. Garrik bent and sat on the bed, the wooden frame groaning beneath his weight.

Her pale lips moved, too silent to hear her voice.

“She wants to speak to you.” Zanayr’s lips curled.