Crescent

16.1

The sun was blinding when Vera stepped out of the house. Droplets of white blood stained the veranda, a trail that followed Orion's escape into the forest—one Vera and Zeno were prepared to walk. Her skin tingled with excitement. To rush blindly on her quest at the prospect of potentially gaining magic was one thing, but to hear that the possibility was certain from Zeno, a subject born entirely of magic who was privy to its darkest secrets, was more than she could ever ask for. When Orion was dead, the fae-killer would return. With Zeno on her side, she would be able to kill it this time, and its flesh would be hers to return home with in the rune-painted vial her father gifted her.

She pressed a hand to the inner pocket of her blood stained coat, where the vial clicked against her leg as she walked. She had moved it from her bag to keep it close, and the touch of it with each step sparked excitement anew. One more battle—one more trial—and she would be a true fae.

Then her last concern would be Zeno. Her gaze slid to the white shadow as he stepped gracefully over the landing. He was looking at the eight-point star crest on the wall of the entry room, oblivious to her eyes on his back. The key hummed against her chest.

Their bargain demanded that she set him free when they were done. That was the promise she dangled over his head, one that crackled with power like the gold key. But what would he do with his freedom? The house sighed in relief as he left, finally freed of his maddening influence.

Who was to say that he wouldn't turn on her the moment he earned his release?

A breathy sigh fled his lips. Zeno turned, now draped in a coarse brown cloak pinned around his neck with a silver star. It rustled as he lifted his hands. Let's go, he said in clipped motions as well as in the quiet voice that rippled through her mind, one that faded in and out as if far away or in a dream. The wood creaked as he climbed the steps down from the porch.

She followed, opening her mouth to ask about the gentle voice. His rigid back, swathed in dark brown to hide his thin frame, was as difficult to read as his face. He had said he could not speak, and his eyes always flashed dangerously when she asked. If it was a trick, he had yet to show any sign that he was plotting something—at least, nothing more than his usual looks at the hidden key. Though even that had ceased since Orion's attack. Since he so freely told her the fate of the project like it was nothing of great consequence to him.

Father always did say prolonged loneliness could destroy the mind. Her insides squirmed, but it wasn't the image of Zeno in the cell that twisted her so. It was the man on the other side of the mirror in her dream, the one who knew her name and who knew how to cast with it.

A slight headache began to form behind her eyes.

Ahead, the iron gate screeched. Zeno's bare hand sat against it in a delicate hold, his star-covered skin glittering. He pushed it open with ease, completely unbothered by the touch of the metal. His white eyes slid to her and a crooked smile lifted the corners of his mouth. Don't touch, he motioned between her and the gate.

Vera folded her arms. "I don't need you to tell me," she snapped. She had already had one unpleasant interaction with the manor's gate. That would be enough to last a lifetime.

He left the gate wide open, giving her plenty of room to slip through without brushing the iron. Though grateful, she couldn't help but feel mocked by his ability to touch it without getting burned, but it only hammered in the reminder that he wasn't fae, nor was he human.

When she had made it through the gate, Vera stopped. The house's overgrown walls of ivy and brick loomed over her, and their shadow would have consumed her had the sun not been positioned directly in front of her. Movement caught her eye in a window of the second floor—the curtains rustled, and a hazy face appeared against the glass. It was a woman, ghostly pale and flickering with white flames. Tears streaked her face, but her expression was hardened. All it took was the blink of an eye and she disappeared.