Page 30 of The Midnight Death Match

His wording makes my stomach roil. While I’ve fought and killed evil fae before, the numbers were smaller. They could be astronomical inside the sprawling, albeit crumbling, walls not far from here. But with both hunters fighting together, we have the potential to restore goodness to this place.

Hopefully.

Despite my promise to Vash, we end up setting up camp beneath what remains of the council chamber’s vaulted ceiling. Nothing seems to go as I expect. A jagged hole gapes above us like a missing tooth in the sky. Faint moonlight seeps in, paler than it should be. It’s like the sun doesn’t want to touch the moon from this angle, either.

The dragons curl near the broken entrance—guarding, not resting. Their eyes remain open, watching the trees.

Harek gathers stones for a fire while I check our supplies. Einar lays out a rough map against a toppled bench, tracing paths through Courtsview’s interior with his fingertip. We eat the leftover food from this morning in silence.

No one speaks of the symbol again. I sit cross-legged on a patch of old tiles, brushing away dirt to see the glinting amber and slate blue beneath. One piece shows a line of eroded fae figures kneeling before a winged shape.

“What do you think this place remembers?” I ask.

Harek scoots closer to me. “Everything.”

Einar doesn’t look away from the map. “The question isn’t what it remembers but whether it forgives.”

A chill skates along my spine.

The fire crackles to life, low and smoky, curling in on itself like it doesn’t want to rise too high. Even flame hesitates here.

I settle beside it, but warmth doesn’t sink in.

Sapphire lifts her head, alert. Vash presses closer to her side.

“Something’s watching us,” I murmur.

Einar doesn’t disagree.

Harek settles right next to me, just close enough that our shoulders touch. He doesn’t speak at first, and neither do I.

The fire pops, making me jump. He wraps a protective arm around me.

My father flicks a glance toward us but continues studying his map. I can’t fathom how he sees it in only the light of anemic flames.

Above us, the stars flicker through the shattered ceiling—muted and distant, as if even the sky has pulled back from this place.

“You always do that,” Harek says finally.

I arch a brow at him. “Do what?”

“Deflect. Nothing’s watching us. You deflect when you’re scared.”

“No, I don’t.” My jaw tightens. “And I’m not scared.”

He doesn’t push. Just watches the fire, taps a foot.

I exhale slowly. “Fine, I’m a little scared. But not of this place.”

His gaze shifts to me. “Then what?”

I don’t answer right away. My fingers curl around a loose thread on my cloak, tugging gently. “Of all the unknowns. What I might become, or of who I might have to lose to stop all of this.”

Harek’s jaw works, but he keeps his voice steady. “You won’t lose me.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I just did.” He gives me a look that dares me to counter him.