Page 30 of Night Fae (Monsters of Veridia #3)

"Did you have a nightmare?" Lyrian asked. Both he and Leon were in the room with Malik, exchanging concerned glances.

"Not a nightmare," Malik insisted, not bothering with greetings. "Zev's trapped. The Fields are feeding on him. I saw it."

Leon moved closer to the bed, his expression carefully neutral.

"You've been unconscious for nearly a day," he said.

"I saw him." Malik was aware how confused he must be sounding, but he knew he hadn't been dreaming. "The shadow paths... I was there, watching. The Fields have him caught in some kind of memory with Rhys, but it's not real."

Lyrian stepped forward, his aquamarine hair falling over his shoulders. "Slow down. What exactly did you see?"

Malik described the vision in hasty sentences—the clearing, the ancient tree, the false Rhys, and most importantly, the shadow tendrils consuming Zev while he remained oblivious.

"I could touch them," Malik said, touching his fingers together as if still feeling the cold pulse of the shadow tendril. "I grabbed one and it responded to me. I could control it, just for a moment."

Leon's expression shifted from confusion to skepticism. "Are you sure?"

"It's possible," Lyrian said, studying Malik with new intensity. "If he's truly Barrier Keeper blood."

"Where are the others?" Malik asked, looking past them toward the door. "Knox? Adrian?"

"They've gone to confront Yuri," Lyrian said. "Leon helped us determine where he would strike next. They left at dawn." While he spoke, he shot Leon a look that Malik couldn't quite discern.

But whatever Lyrian thought about Leon, it didn't matter now.

Malik pushed the blankets aside. "Then I'm going after Zev myself."

Leon moved to block him. "Don't be stupid. The paths would consume you."

"They already tried once and failed," Malik countered, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. The floor seemed to shift beneath his feet, but he forced himself to stand anyway. "I'm not asking permission."

"You're barely strong enough to stand," Lyrian pointed out. "Whatever connection you have to Zev—through the paths or otherwise—it's draining you even now."

Malik couldn't deny it. The pull in his chest remained, a constant ache that ebbed and flowed like a tide. Right now, it was receding.

Did that mean Zev was fighting back against the tendrils?

Would he win?

Could he win without any help?

"I have to try," Malik insisted. "Every minute we waste arguing is another minute those things are feeding on him."

Leon touched his arm. "At least eat something first. You won't help Zev by collapsing five steps into your rescue attempt."

Malik didn't want food; he wanted to go to Zev, but his nannies were never going to let him get anywhere.

Malik wished he had more skill points in stealth… or persuasion.

"Fine," he relented. "Food. Then I'm going."

"We'll discuss it after you've eaten," Lyrian said, his tone making it clear he had no intention of letting Malik leave.

A servant brought a tray—bread, fruit, and some kind of broth that smelled strongly of herbs. Malik forced himself to eat some of it while his mind raced through everything he knew about the palace.

The entry to the shadow path nexus would be somewhere in the basement.

He had to slip away from his caretakers and find it.

"At least let me wash and change," Malik said when he'd finished eating. "I can't think straight feeling like this."

Lyrian glanced at Leon, who nodded slightly. "I'll find you some clean clothes," Lyrian said.

Once Lyrian left, Leon moved to the window, pulling the curtain back slightly. "I get that this must be hard for you."

"If you did, you'd let me go."

Leon let the curtain fall closed. "Yuri wanted this, you know. These connections between worlds, between people who should never have met."

"Why?" Malik asked. "What does he gain?"

"He lost someone," Leon said softly. "Someone the other Barrier Keepers took from him. He believes reuniting the worlds will bring them back."

Malik blinked.

"How would that even work?"

Leon shook his head. "I don't know the particulars."

"You seem to know a lot , regardless." Malik frowned. "What was it like to be Yuri's captive? Did he do anything to you?"

Before Leon could respond, Lyrian returned with a stack of clothes. "Here. These should fit well enough."

Malik took them. Clothes would be nice to have when he made his escape. "I need a moment of privacy."

Lyrian and Leon exchanged glances again, then stepped outside.

Once alone, Malik moved as quickly as his weakened body would allow. He dressed, splashed water on his face from the basin beside the bed, and then he looked around the room.

Sadly, the window was too high for escape.

He'd have to find another way out.

It came sooner than expected. When Malik left the room, Leon and Lyrian were standing next to the door, arguing.

"I know my grandmother's vision wasn't wrong," Lyrian said, voice sharp. "She saw you with Yuri, working willingly at his side."

Leon's expression pulled tight. "Your grandmother sees fragments of truth through a distorted lens."

"So tell me what fragments was she seeing?"

"You wouldn't understand," Leon responded.

Lyrian took a step closer to Leon. "I swear, if you sent our friends into a trap…"

As their voices rose, Malik inched down the hall and around the corner.

Turned out you didn't need to be very stealthy. You just needed the other people to fail their perception check.

Still, Malik's heart was pounding so loud he thought they would have to hear him.

Licking his lips, he tried to orient himself.

No use. He had no idea where he was in relation to anything.

But he knew he had to find stairs down to the basement. That pulling sensation in his chest made him push onward, made him head east.

As quietly as possible, he made himself move, one hand pressed against the wall for balance.

It was as if he was holding an invisible compass that whispered to him where to go.

East. Always east.

He found a narrow staircase winding downward and descended carefully, pausing at each landing to listen for guards or servants. The air grew cooler and damper the deeper he went, until finally, he reached the lowest level.

At the bottom of the stairs, Malik found himself in a wide hallway lit by blue-flamed torches. At the far end stood two guards in Caelen's silver and black livery, stationed before a set of heavy iron doors.

The shadow path entrance. It had to be.

Malik needed to get through that door.

Malik stared at the guards, mind racing. He'd never get past them without help or a distraction.

"Of course you'd come here," came Leon's voice from behind him.

Malik spun around, heart leaping into his throat. Leon and Lyrian stood there, arms crossed, looking more irritated than concerned.

"I'm not going back," Malik said, keeping his voice low but firm.

Lyrian stepped forward. "The paths are going to tear you apart."

"I have to try." Malik met their gazes. "You didn't see what I saw. Those tendrils are consuming him. They're using his memories of Rhys to keep him trapped while they feed."

"And throwing yourself into the same trap helps how?" Leon asked.

Malik straightened. "I can manipulate the paths. I felt it in the vision—the tendrils responded to me."

"Even if that's true, your connection to Zev is killing you," Lyrian pointed out. "Going deeper would only accelerate the process."

"Then I'll die trying," Malik said, his voice breaking slightly. "What would you do if it were someone you cared about? If it were Knox trapped there?" He looked at Lyrian, then turned to Leon. "Would you abandon your friends to the Fields?"

Both men fell silent, exchanging uneasy glances.

"Listen to me," Malik continued, desperation making him bolder. "I know it's dangerous, but I also know I'm the only one who can find him. The connection is draining me, yes, but it's also guiding me to him."

Leon's expression shifted subtly. "And if you do find him? What then? You have no offensive magic, no weapons, no training."

"I have something better," Malik replied. "I have the truth. Those illusions are powerful because Zev wants them to be real. But I'm real too, and unlike Rhys, I'm still alive."

The bluntness of his statement seemed to catch them off guard.

Malik knew he had to press on. "I love him," he stated, "and nothing will stop me from going to him."

Something in Lyrian's expression softened. "Going into the paths unprepared is suicide."

"Then prepare me," Malik challenged. "You both know things about the shadow paths. Tell me what I need to know to survive."

The two of them studied him for another moment, both clearly uncertain what to do.

Finally, Leon sighed. "The shadows will target your worst fears first. Whatever nightmares you face, remember they're not real."

"Move quickly," Lyrian added. "Don't linger in any vision, no matter how compelling. The longer you stay, the harder it becomes to leave."

"And the connection between you and Zev," Leon said, "use it like a lifeline. When everything else fails, follow that thread."

Malik looked from one to the other, hardly daring to believe they were actually helping. "Thank you. Now about those guards..."

Lyrian grinned. "Drawing attention is what I do best. I'll sing them a little song to lure them away from their station."

Before Malik could comment on that, Lyrian strode down the corridor with confident steps. The guards stiffened, hands moving to weapons until they recognized him.

"Gentlemen," Lyrian called, his voice carrying a strange undercurrent that made Malik's ears tingle.

He went on to describe a disturbance in the west wing that required their assistance, and as he spoke, his voice shifted into something more than speech—a melody that wound through his words, almost shimmering in the air.

The guards' expressions went slack, then alert with purpose. Without question, they abandoned their post, following Lyrian as he led them away.

"Now," Leon whispered.