Page 69 of Heart of Night
The same way he helped Myron rather than me.
It makes sense. Total sense. Yet, there is one thing I still can’t wrap my head around. “Why does Ephegos trust you? Why not put the same sort of bargain as a condition for you to work for him that he demanded from Herinor?”
Beside me, Clio nods her agreement, the skepticism never leaving her face.
Kaira’s smile is broad and victorious this time as she glances between Clio and me. “You forget one thing when it comes to Ephegos.”
“And that is?” Clio prompts while I try to figure it out on my own.
He wanted revenge on Myron more than anything and earned the position of a Flame prince in the process of betraying his best friend. He hates Myron, and so he hates everyone the Crow King loves, including me. He will stop at nothing to get what he wants, including working with a despicable king who extends his power to the fairy realm. The Flames are his new people even when he wants to reestablish a Crow Court somewhere.
Before I can come to a conclusion, Kaira responds, “He needs allies, people in his own ranks he can trust. People who aren’t part of a trade or partnership that will eventually fall apart like the one with Erina and Katrijanov. He needs those two to gain power and get his revenge, but they are both human and will eventually die while Ephegos will outlive them, and only the Guardians know what he’ll do then.”
I don’t want to know either, but I should because, if there is anything I can do to stop him from waging war on the fairy realm… I don’t know if I have it in me to think of saving another kingdom when all I want is to save the male I love and run. The male who is tied to me by the whims of a god—or two, if Herinor is right about Shaelak giving me Crow wings.
“Ephegos desperately needs supporters in his own ranks; that’s why he might have been faster with trusting me at least not to kill you off or try to run. He has no idea of all the things I’ve been up to because guards are so wonderfully silent when they hope to get lucky with you.” She shakes her head as if tossing the mass of hair back that’s neatly braided and coiled into a bun, then bats her eyes the way she did at Julj. “It’s not my favorite weapon, but when it comes to saving the only family I have left, I know no boundaries.”
I believe her. For the first time since I met Kaira, I have no second thoughts about her motivations. She’s on our side just as Herinor would like to be. And he found a way to help us by helping everyone but me.
Clio seems to be less convinced, so I do the one thing I know will put all cards on the table.
“Do you know anything about mind-readers, Clio?” Turning my head, I attempt a smile as I present the final secret Kaira holds to my friend?—
And earn a panicked glance from the female that makes me wonder how bad her experience with that sort of magic could possibly be.
Thirty-Four
Myron
By the time footsteps sound in the hallway again, the room is dark, the torches having burned out and the smoke of their extinguishing lingering in the air. I wish it wouldn’t overpower every last trace of Ayna’s scent, but there is little I can do with my chest pinned to the table with a knife and my limbs restrained by leather bonds.
My healing power strains to get to work around the steel piercing my lungs, sealing the wound until it hits metal and every breath makes the blade tear deeper into my tissues again. It’s a fucking mess.
Ephegos gave me back my senses, but not most of my magic. Yet, I feel stronger than I have in weeks. The vastness of my fae powers doesn’t matter when I know Ayna is alive. At least she might have a chance to survive.
I stifle a groan, having long given up on trying to keep my focus with the constant pain, the shallow breaths that never provide enough air, and the smothering sensation of the deep sleep Ephegos injected me with. If Ephegos returned to finish me off, I don’t know if I have any fight left in me.
“Wake up.” A harsh whisper combined with a slap brings me back from the momentary merciful darkness in my head, and I stare at Herinor’s familiar features behind a hand wiggling in front of my face. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
I try to count, but everything swims in the torchlight. He brought a torch—not an everlasting one like in the palace at the Seeing Forest. Those were convenient.
I wonder how my mind is capable of going there when I have more urgent matters right in front of me.
“Fuck off.” It comes out weaker than I’d intended.
Herinor laughs. “The correct answer is three, but I’ll let this one slide since you are obviously not your full self.”
Without warning, he grabs the knife in my chest and yanks it out with a sloshy sound that makes me wonder if there’ll be any blood left in me if my heart continues pumping it out so frantically.
“Don’t faint. We have to get you out of here before they return.”
I try to obey, but darkness is already tugging at the edge of my consciousness.
“Myron,” Herinor hisses.
My eyes snap open as he presses his hands to my wound, applying his own power to speed up the healing process. He might not be as powerful as me, but he isn’t as magically chained as I am right now either, so, for the moment, his healing power outmatches mine by far.
As if in response, my body gathers final resources to help knit my tissues back together.