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February 28 - March 3, 2023
“Hey.” Holt’s voice pulled her from an almost dream. “Remember rule number seven?” “Hmm?” He pressed a thumb against her thigh to get her attention. “Rule number seven. No dying on each other.”
“I feel like a curse, not a gift,” she whispered. Raif’s lips twitched. “Can I say something insufferable?”
“If this is what it feels like to be cursed… curse all of it… my mind, my body, my heart. It’s all yours.”
Holt used the forest to fight. Tree roots and branches did his bidding, wrapping around soldiers and holding them in place as his weapons did the rest. He cut through three soldiers as if they were nothing.
Zylah didn’t care that they were talking about her as if she wasn’t there. Raif was gone. And she hadn’t told him. Hadn’t told him how much he’d saved her these last few months in Virian. How he’d made each day easier for her. How she loved him. Her breath caught in her throat, and she clutched at the necklace he’d given her. She hadn’t deserved it. His love. Any of it. And now he was gone.
“None of this is your fault. But especially this,” Rose said quietly, her head on Zylah’s shoulder. “I loved him,” Zylah whispered. She had to say it out loud. For someone, anyone to hear it. Saying it out loud made it real. Rose brushed a piece of Zylah’s hair back and tucked it behind her ear. “He knew. We all do.”
They reappeared on the south side of the city, just as Holt had said. But only one horse was waiting for them, a note tucked under the bridle in the dusk. Zylah peered over Holt’s arm as he read the scrawling ink. This was all I could manage at short notice. Please accept my apologies. “Shit,” Holt breathed.
Zylah huffed a quiet laugh. “You didn’t even ask me if I could ride a horse.” Holt’s face paled. “I can ride a horse, Holt, relax.” A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth for a moment, but it immediately felt wrong.
Holt reached into his coat and pulled out a paper bag. “One for the road?” Zylah sniffed at the air, already knowing what was inside. A canna cake. Holt’s mouth quirked, but Zylah couldn’t bring herself to say anything other than a quiet, “Thank you.”
She let out a breath, willing the tears not to fall. Another goodbye. It was what she deserved. And yet… “Will I ever see you again?” She looked up at him, studying the lines of his face. A tear fell down her cheek and Holt brushed it away, so lightly she barely felt his skin touch hers. “I’ll find you.” His jaw was tightly clenched, as if there was more he wanted to say, but he just held her gaze. Zylah threw her arms around him, breathing him in for the last time as he hugged her back. “Thank you. For everything.” Holt’s arms enveloped her, pulling her close.
“I’ll find you, Zylah,” he said again, his voice hoarse. She studied his face, the way his hair fell across his eyes, the way he’d squared his jaw, and committed it to memory. He patted the horse’s flank, and with a huff, it set off into the forest.
