Page 62 of A Sea of Vows and Silence (The Naiads of Juile #3)

He changed direction, leading me off the trail, guiding us over muck and rock as the rain delved puddles for us to skip across .

Sylus Lake wasn’t far, according to Pheolix. But we wouldn’t reach it before daylight. Dawn was closer than the water. By nightfall, we’d reach it. As soon as we entered the lake, the river would lead us to open water.

We’d just have to find a place to hide before the sun rose and woke the birds.

Luckily, the Rivean side of the Sylus Mountains held more pockmarks than a sea sponge.

Wherever I looked, there seemed to be at least three caves within view.

When dawn shook the sky awake, we made for the nearest one without a word.

I found myself nodding off as I walked, snapping myself awake. Then nodding off again.

Pheolix woke me with a start, his hand on my shoulder. “Over here,” he said, slanting his head.

Rainwater gathered in the center of the cave, natural trenches laying fresh grooves in the mud.

It squelched under our feet. I hadn’t had an opportunity to see what Pheolix was wearing under his cloak.

It had been too dark until now. But it didn’t seem like anything out of the ordinary.

His clothes were black and simple. Plain and unadorned, with nothing that might snag in someone’s recollection later. Forgettable.

I suppose that’s how Thaan dressed all his drones.

Like phantoms of a memory. I’d spent hours waiting for someone to recognize his name.

The thought that he’d spent years of his life here and no one knew of his existence rooted something heavy in my chest. He unclasped his cloak, laying it down against the cavern wall where mud hadn’t collected, and I stared at the clean lines of his black shirt.

Everything suddenly felt very familiar. Waiting just inside another cavern with him in Paria. Watching the water’s surface for Cebrinne to emerge.

It had taken almost no time for Pheolix to switch from cold and suspicious to the Pheolix I knew. It had almost happened too fast, now that I considered it. One moment prepared to attack, protective and assertive the next.

He caught me watching him .

Something flickered in his gray eyes as he gestured with a slack hand for me to sit on his cloak.

Something shy. Unsure.

I unclasped my own, laying it beside his. My clothes had mostly dried from rain, though it might still be hours before the cool mountain air turned warm. I sat, arms crossed against the cold, and he lowered himself beside me, leaving inches between us.

He stared out of the cave, avoiding my eyes.

The pressing need to run had ended. Somehow, in those moments of stress, it had been so easy to hold his hand.

To lean against him. Let him pick me up or share his body heat.

Those moments of urgency had bandaged whatever it was that made him distant now.

He’d been distant in that servant’s room as well. Hesitant to climb onto the bed with me when I’d asked.

“No one in Winterlight knows your name,” I said, eyeing his profile.

He leaned to the side enough to reach into his pocket as if by habit. Then clicked his tongue in disappointment. “Drones don’t use names in Winterlight. We go by numbers.”

“What’s your number?”

“Sixty-four.”

“And humans don’t find that odd?”

“We don’t talk to the humans.” He flexed his hand, playing with the air around his fingers. “We dress like they do. They think we’re just working a separate station. Drones dig escape routes through the rock.”

“Really?” I cocked my head. “Six routes isn’t enough?”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “They’re not really escape routes.

They’re just ways to keep us active and strong.

Fit. But not connected. If the mine fell in on one of us.

..” He shrugged. “The rest would just turn around and forget them. Part of being a drone is forgetting you’re a person.

Denying yourself the privilege of thinking you are one. ”

“You’ve never struck me as someone who’s forgotten. ”

He scraped his lower lip with his teeth, mulling over his reply. “I’m luckier than most of Thaan’s other drones. But I won’t pretend I haven’t fought to keep my mind while watching others lose theirs.”

The words sent a chill through my bones. “Is that what happens in the inbetween?” I asked. “He keeps young Naiads alone in those rooms while their bodies beg to transition?” My voice dropped into a murmur. “And then waits for them to slowly lose their minds?”

He stretched his spine, my question an uncomfortable knot in his back, hand returning to idle movement. Pretending to play with a knife.

“Pheolix.”

“If you’re worried about my sanity—” He paused to laugh softly. As though whatever it was, he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

“I’m worried that you’ve always used humor to deflect questions that probe too close to your past. You’ve never set boundaries with me.

You taunt and tease and joke instead, hoping I’ll get irritated and move on.

It worked at first. It won’t work anymore.

I’m here with you. In a cold cave in the mountains. Because I chose to be.”

He still didn't look at me.

I leaned in, forcing myself into his view.

“Don’t pretend you don’t need help when you do.

Don’t pretend not to struggle. I know it’s a big change.

In a cell one minute and in open air the next.

” I exhaled a silent breath. “I’m trying to understand what you’re burying.

What it is you don’t want me to see. But you won’t scare me away with it. I’m here. I’m here .”

Pheolix shifted uncomfortably. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging his bun loose and letting the strands fall. “You have to understand,” he said softly. “This doesn’t feel real. I’m waiting to wake up."

I bit my lip. Then leaned toward him. “We’re not asleep.”

“Yeah?” He watched me inch closer, unsure once more. “How do you know?”

“Because I only have nightmares when I sleep,” I said. “Dreams where I’m being chased or captured. Or tortured.” His mouth thinned. I glanced away. “I’ve imagined having the chance to ask you for what I wanted a year ago. Imagined it hundreds of times. Never once dreamt it.”

He sighed. “Nothing’s changed. I can’t give you what you want.”

His hand flexed again, and I grabbed it. Squeezed it in my palm. “You must not understand what I want.”

Pheolix opened his mouth to argue. I climbed into his lap. He lifted his hands at first, unsure of whether to touch me, but they wrapped around my waist a moment later. Fire sprang deep in my belly. Electricity hummed in my blood.

“Did you think I came all this way for a bodyguard?” I asked. “I came all this way for you .”

Rusty hair fell across his eyes as he studied me. I pushed up, a knee on either side of his lap.

“Heiress,” he said, cautious warning drifting under his voice.

My mouth hovered a finger stroke away from his. “Tell me to stop,” I said. “Tell me you don’t want me. Tell me to go back to Calder. Tell me you never want to see me again, and I’ll go.”

His eyes fell to my lips. His mouth parted as he stared, his hands tightening around my waist. “There is no corda-cruor with me.”

“I don’t want a cordae .”

The ghost of a touch away, dark brows rose at the tone of my voice.

I shook my head, tossing my hair behind my shoulders, the long sable locks suddenly a nuisance. “I want a blackguard ass of a siren.”