Page 64

“I will never help him,” Weldir stated through the bond, and she almost wanted to groan.

The moment she uttered his name, she should have known he’d come.

“You should leave, Lindiwe.”

“He has warned me to keep my distance. He will never help you.”

Oddly enough, Jabeziryth let out a small, genial laugh that seemed true and soft. “He’s worried because of what has happened, but he and I have faced the same prejudices and experiences. I want to see what we can do for each other.”

“My answer remains the same.”

Lindi opened her mouth to relay that, but then shut it. Should I be letting him know that Weldir can speak directly to me? She didn’t want to be trapped in some way because of it. Who knows what kind of magic the Elves have?

So, instead of speaking for Weldir, she asked, “How do you want to help?”

Jabeziryth brought his hands out from behind his back and shrugged.

“He and I are both outcasts, shunned in horrible ways by the Elvish and their deities. I seek his help and wish to offer my own.” He tilted his head while his eyes narrowed on the centre of her collar bones, and she wrapped her nimble hands around the mana stone there.

“If there is only one of you, there is only so much you can do on your own.”

Lindi shrugged a shoulder with a rude snort of laughter. “What can a bunch of Demons do to help?”

“But I’m not a Demon, at least not a fully bred one.” He reached a hand out to her like he wanted her to take it or show that he was harmless by offering his palm. “I’m the only one of my kind. He is the only one of his kind, as are you. It’s a lonely existence, one which we can all share.”

All the humour and warmth faded from his face, and replacing it was something Lindi had been struggling with for years.

It made his young face look much older and strained.

Sorrow and the pangs of isolation, of loneliness.

Worse, it seemed genuine, his brows furrowing in a similar way to how hers often did, his lips curled in and tighter, like he had unshed words but there was no one to listen.

Her heart betrayed her, and she softened towards his plight.

She remembered how she’d overheard his companions in the past pressuring him with things he didn’t want to do, and how they said he was different and would struggle.

It didn’t help that he aged slowly and looked to be similar in age to her physically. No one else in the world was like that. No one understood the deathlessness that she was facing, or what it was like to see everything changing as she remained the same.

And, true to his word, he hadn’t hurt her or grabbed her when he had ample time to try.

“I haven’t introduced myself,” he said, his hardened expression shifting to a calmer one, losing its tension as if he was used to wearing it. “My name is Jabez.”

“I thought it was longer,” Lindi muttered, giving him more of her side as she looked at him awkwardly, unsure of what to do now.

Should she flee, as Weldir told her? Or should she stay like her heart told her to? Her curiosity had also become a rather starved beast over the years, and she tried to unearth all the mysteries she could to feed it.

His pointed ears dipped back. “I’m guessing Weldir told you my true name, but I prefer not to be called it.”

Although it was the reverse for her, Lindi understood that, as she didn’t want anyone who wasn’t close to her to say her nickname. Not even Weldir knew it. It was for her, and her parents, and her long-dead childhood friends.

“I’m Lindiwe,” she answered, her shoulders losing their tension. She fiddled with one of her feathers as she stood next to the falls, trying her hardest not to look at his face.

It was handsome, and human-looking, which made it easier to forget all the parts of him that were different, like his Demon fangs, eyes, and horns, and his Elvish ears. He didn’t look mean, or even rabid, like the monsters that lurked in the shade.

He didn’t look... evil. He was just a young boy.

“Lindiwe, you should leave,” Weldir said, his deep voice tingling her senses. His words sounded like a suggestion and a command all in one, and that made her want to do the complete opposite.

So when Jabez hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his trousers and turned to look over the Veil, she found her feet rooted to the ground.

“I come here a lot,” Jabez commented, his eyes scanning across the treetops that went for as far as the eye could see.

“It’s my favourite place in the Veil. It’s quiet, other than the comforting sound of the waterfall, and there’s never anyone to watch you.

That’s part of the reason I was surprised when they told me someone else, something other, comes here. ”

“I feel the same way,” she answered in a small voice, letting her gaze fall to where he did.

“It’s nice to know I’m not the only one who seeks an escape in this place.”

He made her jump and gasp when he sprang into action and stormed towards her. Lindi turned incorporeal before he could reach her, but he only went around her and under the falls, where there was a semi-dry section to walk, and moved to the other side.

Curious, Lindi followed while intangible, so her feathers didn’t catch any wetness.

On the other side, Jabez climbed slightly higher so he could seat himself on a ledge that was perfect for perching oneself.

With one foot planted on the edge so his knee was bent and the other hanging, he watched her from above.

“Well? Are you going to continue to look like a frightened mouse, or are you going to sit and enjoy the view? Stay in your ghostly form, if it makes you feel better.”

“Why do you continue to stay?”

I’m not a frightened mouse! She hunted Demons and occultists with ferociousness, like a mountain cat!

Lindi ignored Weldir and braved turning physical out of spite towards both of them – Weldir because she didn’t want to listen to him, and Jabez for calling her something so weak. Did she trust him? No, but she trusted herself to escape any danger should she need to.

She wasn’t afraid of him, just wisely wary.

She climbed higher and found herself a perch that was a safe enough distance away. She lifted her nose slightly to snub them both.

Weldir produced an unnerving growl that rumbled in her ears, causing her to fist her cloak in worry. Her shoulders lifted nervously, since she was blatantly violating his wishes.

“Fine, Lindiwe. Do as you want.”

Strangely enough, he went quiet, when she’d expected him to spout furious words at her or childishly growl some more.

She and Jabez shared a silent, tranquil – although tense – moment as the sun dipped further behind them.

The area grew more shaded by the moment, but she also felt more at ease with each second that passed.

All she could hear was the chirp of a few birds, bats beginning to squeak as they woke and prepared for their nightly flight, and the sound of crashing water. Each noise bled into her being and soothed her, lulling her when she should have more wisely stayed alert.

Only when Lindi chose to speak, as if that was what Jabez waited for, was the silence broken.

“I used to be afraid of the Veil,” she said quietly. “I thought it was evil. But the longer I see it and the more I find places like this one, the more I appreciate it. It’s... picturesque, in its own way.”

“It’s the mist,” he responded. “It makes it eerier than it’s supposed to.”

She huffed a laugh. “Yeah. But that just means it’s really healthy. Plants need water to survive, and there’s so much of it here in the air that you can see it. I think most humans would think it means something haunted might peek out from behind a bush.”

Jabez chuckled at that. “That doesn’t happen here. I’ve only seen one or two Ghosts, and they tend to be above on the surface, or attached to an item belonging to a deceased human a Demon has brought in.”

So there are Ghosts in the Veil. That was handy for her to know, as she’d been collecting them. Then again, Weldir’s mist has been drifting further into the Veil. Surely at some point he’d be able to collect them himself.

The reminder of him made her wonder if Weldir was still watching or if he’d chosen to completely ignore this. She lifted her palm to produce a black flame, checking to make sure he hadn’t momentarily rescinded his magic.

He hadn’t. At least he isn’t that childish. She would have rolled her eyes otherwise.

“How long have you been alive?” Jabez asked nonchalantly. “I’ve been here for almost a hundred Earth years. Time seems to pass so quickly here.”

Her eyes widened, and she turned her head to him to find he’d leaned back on straightened arms. It gave him a boyish air of indifference.

“What do you mean, quickly? I’ve been alive for almost eighty years and it feels like forever!” She wanted to fall back and pretend to faint with fatigue at how long it’d been.

His eyes crinkled as he let out a boisterous laugh. “For a human, maybe. My kind can live an exceedingly long time in comparison. I think I’ve lived around three hundred human years, but I’m almost twenty-two.”

Ah, so she’d guessed his age pretty well then.

She pouted. “I was two and twenty when I stopped ageing.”

His lips drew back into a grimace. “Who the fuck says their age like that? That’s so complicated.”

Her cheeks heated in embarrassment, and she threw her arms up. “I don’t know?! Humans, I guess? It’s how we’ve always said it.”

“Why not just say the number? I hope you don’t count to a hundred that way.” He let his head fall to the side. “By the blessed night, that would take forever if you did. Three and fifty, four and fifty... End me now.”

The gentle needling softened her more. It reminded her of the banter of her childhood friends, especially Marcus, who had always been a bit of a jokester, incapable of having a serious conversation.

“You make an excellent point.”

“Of course I do. Anyone with sense would make that distinction.”