Crescent

14.2

Or force her to wander the forest like he had done to Orion.

Elizabeth's notes crawled to the front of her thoughts, penned in progressively shaky handwriting as the days dragged on. 000 cannot be controlled, she had said, a warning Vera was slowly beginning to understand. It wasn't that he was too wild to be put on a leash, a fierce beast that didn't hesitate to bite the hand with which he was fed. He was something far worse. Project 0-29, in an effort to destroy one monster, had only succeeded in creating another.

"What happened to her?" Vera snapped, harsher than she meant. Her voice trembled, plainly laying her fear out before him.

Zeno leaned in close to the window, trailing his fingers along the faded, delicate fabric of the curtains. Silence stretched between them, one that made her skin crawl like it was full of bugs. Finally, he dropped the curtain. If you listen closely, he began, you may hear Elizabeth crying in the night, hiding somewhere in fear and forever waiting for her lover to return. Death claimed her long ago, but the echo of her sobs resonates when the moon climbs the black sky.

"You cursed her, too?"

I did nothing to her. He shrugged. Unlike the others, she drove herself insane by staying here. She saw what I had done and sealed me away, but she never could bring herself to leave. His gaze darkened and he looked away, a tight frown pulling at his lips. Tying herself to Orion and being part of this project was curse enough. Leaving her alone was all it took. He tapped his matching earring and pointed to Vera's. Wearing this may make you more aware of her spirit. Only so long as you are here, though. Ghosts have no reason to follow the living; instead, they beg the living to follow them.

Ghost stories had never frightened Vera. Wyn used to tell them every new moon, when the night was dark. Eileen would crawl into Vera's bed, unable to sleep as his tales spun webs too thick for her to escape alone. Vera had always thought of herself as the dependable, unshakable sibling, but something in Zeno's words rang with truth. Ever since he had taken her to the room with the writing on the wall, Orion's name scrawled repeatedly in familiar handwriting, she had heard it occasionally—the faint cry of a woman's voice, distant yet close enough to send shivers down her spine. She knew the wisps were spirits of the dead, and one had appeared in the house and led her down to Zeno's cell, but the lingering regrets of a human woman tainted the house in a different way.

She hadn't realized she was still holding onto her sword until her knuckles ached, now pale from her firm grip against the leather hilt. She didn't dare let go, not when he was standing so close, not when the sword was her only anchor and shield. "Why are you telling me this?" she pressed.

You asked. I'm obliged to your requests while you hold the key, remember? He pointed to the gold object tucked safely beneath her dress, hidden from prying eyes and humming warmly against her chest. Or did you forget your own power?

Vera clenched her jaw. His last statement was almost underhanded. Her words were not binding like any other fae's would be, and she doubted he was stupid enough to believe they were. He had to know that she had no connection to magic. All that bound him was his own fear and whatever threat the key had over him.

"You could have said no. I can't make you speak."

He hesitated. Something indecipherable flitted across his expression and he quickly returned his gaze to the scene beyond the curtain, drawn by the sliver of a moon. It feels good to say aloud, he said, and this time, the words came across in a low murmur—a voice that hummed along the back of her mind in a faint but raspy tenor. It quivered with life rather than just a projection of shapeless thoughts scraped together by her own mind. Even his porcelain cheeks had taken on some color, though tinged silver and blue like his blood rather than a warm red. Despite what he had confessed, despite the weight of the house's mysteries now revealed, when he met her gaze again, he smiled faintly. It takes a weight off my chest.

Her breath hitched at the sound that resonated in her mind, breathing shape and form into his gentle words. They were soft and vulnerable, almost real for once. But words were still the weapon of a fae, and Vera quickly hardened her expression to keep him out. His white eyes were always searching, still calculating. Even when he was being open, there was something he wanted, and he hoped to find it in her trust.

"It's not my place to forgive you nor dismiss what you've done," she said, choosing her words carefully and arranging them in a measured tone, one that was calm enough to not upset him. "I've seen the bodies, the blood, that lingers in this place. I've seen the monsters you unleashed upon the west woods—creatures that attack and kill my people."

His hands spoke before the voice did. I don't want your forgiveness. I want you to help me the same way I intend to help you, but I want you to do it knowing all that you wish to know so that you have no more questions to distract your wandering mind.

"And what do you want?"

He grinned, exposing the fangs of a fae among his white teeth. The unseelie is drawn to the cursed fae. I want Orion dead; you want to kill the unseelie. If you help me kill him, it will bring out the unseelie and I'll be there to help you.

Eyeing him, Vera pondered his words. She sifted carefully through each one in search of something he could use to exploit her, but the goal seemed plain and fair. If killing Orion could draw her prey out of the woods, it was a trap she had to set. It was even—they would both meet their goals, and she would return home with honor and a piece of the creature's flesh that would grant her magic. She would have everything she wanted.

Yet there was a snag, something that distorted her colorful visions of her return home. What did Zeno get? He said it himself: with the fae-killer dead, he would have no purpose. Was it all for revenge? To bury the project so that no one could ever hope to uncover it and him? She touched the gold key, her lips pursed in thought. If he was that shallow, it shouldn't matter to her. All she needed him for was one job, the task he was created to complete. She had always intended to part ways after that. If he wanted to commit one last selfish act before he disappeared, it was of no consequence to her.

She sucked in a sharp breath and straightened. "If it will help bring an end to the unseelie, then I accept your terms."

You are as wise as you are proud and beautiful, Ve. His tired eyes crinkled with a mocking smile.

Wyn's nickname in his shapeless words—once again void of the sound that had graced them for a brief moment—left a bitter taste in her mouth. "I don't care for your flattery."

Ignoring her, he stepped away from the window and picked his way to the hall where the broken stairs were. You look exhausted so we should rest for the night. We will set out at dawn, so enjoy your last night at the house.

He left before she could stop him. Before he turned away, her gaze snagged on the spot where his wound was, hidden beneath his shaggy white hair. It was crusted with dried ichor; the sight wrenched something inside her.

She had forgotten to dress his wounds in exchange for his words, but he had already crossed the chasm and disappeared upstairs before she even thought to ask if he was alright.

Phew. Zeno was talkative today. I know I'm posting this chapter (or chapters since I split it) a little late so thank you for your patience! I wrote most of it late at night, then woke up this morning and had a little bit of a mess to comb through. It definitely ended up being more of a talking chapter but I hope you can glean some insightful things from the conversation :D

And with this, Crescent has passed 40k words! I'm shooting for about 70k-80k words for this draft so we're halfway there in terms of word count. Though I have a feeling the next draft will be quite a bit longer...

Thanks for reading! See you guys next week ;)