“It’s okay.” Nerida’s calm voice halted her. The human’s eyes slid to the fae. Her other gray, frail hand reached up, and she placed something in Nerida’s palm as she spoke. “Give this to the one with eyes like mine.” Her voice croaked. “To the one they call Faythe Ashfyre.” Zaiana stilled. The name chilled her even more than the first time she heard it. How this human knew of her was mystifying. “Tell her…tell her I knew her mother. And tell her…that I’m sorry.”
