The Valley of Lies (Lightkeepers #1)

Chapter FIFTEEN: Zan

Their grandmother hadn't lifted a finger when the witches cursed and banished the Darkbane hundreds of years ago, but as Zan understood it, that decision had been a difficult one. The Yansu could be stubborn and dispassionate, but they weren't inherently cruel. Their grandmother had deemed the Darkbane's curse a natural progression, karma's punishment for centuries of indenturing humans in the name of their false deity. Zan didn't know his mother–-she had disowned him when he was six, after his ears stopped lengthening and nubby horns had popped out on his head-–but he liked to believe she wouldn't hold an entire race accountable for their ancestors' sins, even as she'd held him accountable for his father's.

"Please stay in Loradyn, Zan. Let the Yansu come for me, don't get involved."

Zan hadn't thought he'd ever hear his sister ask him to go to Loradyn, let alone stay there. The homeland of the dragon elves was one of the last places he'd choose to be, and Ayer knew it, so that she would beg was significant.

"I hate asking you to do this, but I can't let you get caught in the crossfire. It will be too dangerous here for a while. I'll be fine, the witches won't kill me, they need me too badly. But you... I just... I need you to do this for me, Zan. Leave as soon as you can."

The desperation in her tired eyes made Zan's stomach lurch. His sister rarely asked him to do anything except stay out of trouble. Now she was tasking him with a quest that would take weeks, if not longer. The thought of seeking the Darkbane elves was exhilarating, and a part of him thrilled to have her permission. But he had a nagging feeling that Ayer was leaving out a detail that might give him pause. Why else would she dangle such a sweet offer in front of him?

"Ayer..." He put a hand on her knee.

"Please, Zan. You want to help me? This is the way to do it. The only way."

"Will they kill the Darkbane at the Revelry?"

She stiffened. After a few moments of silence, she nodded. "That's why I was late tonight. They summoned me for dinner and told me their plan. You need to be long gone by then. Will you leave tomorrow at first light?"

Zan thought about the apron and bonnet Ayer had been wearing. The Triumvirate hadn't invited her to dine with them; they had made her serve them. While she had been pouring their drinks and spooning spine-curdling food onto their plates, they must have told her exactly how they would use her zizhi to force her to kill the free Darkbane.

One day he would relish murdering all three damned witches. First Foswida, then Edril. He'd save Domira for last, make her suffer the longest.

"I'll go," he said, ignoring the deep ache in his chest. It was never a good idea to think too hard on Ayer's impossible plight. Zan preferred to bury his horror and outrage beneath schemes and action. If he kept his mind busy plotting his sister's escape, he could almost fool himself into forgetting that irreparable damage had already been done.

"Thank you." She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him toward her. "I'll be able to sleep tonight, knowing you'll be away from here come tomorrow."

That was a lie. But Zan smiled for Ayer's benefit and pretended he believed her.

***

The following morning was dreary. A procession of dark clouds wept over Blackwater's fledgling vegetation. Ayer's magic had worked a miracle on the desecrated land, but progress was a modest thing, it took time and patience. More patience than the Triumvirate possessed, which was why there were still pockets of dead and diseased earth interspersed with the nascent greenery, scars from the witches' cruel and unnatural magic.

Keeping his promise, Zan set out from his cottage early. He'd packed a change of clothes, a meager supply of rations, a map, and a few other travel necessities into a small bag. The rest of his spare belongings he left behind, but he wasn't worried about them. If a weary wanderer rested for a night in his bed, or vermin intruded while he was away, well he supposed those were normal inconveniences when one's home was a tree in the middle of the forest.