Zara Grayson's Arc

Chapter 6 of 6

The charm still glowed on Fabin's chest. Zara closed her fist around it. Finding her mate had chained her to his deal, the one that would kill someone if it broke. She needed the terms. Without them, she could not free him. "Tell me the deal," she said. "All of it." Fabin's jaw tightened. "I can't." "Can't or won't?" "Speak the terms aloud, and the price comes due." He looked at the gate, at the palace beyond. "That's the first rule. My father made sure." So the words themselves were the trap. Zara paced under the carved arch. Her crows shifted overhead. If Fabin couldn't say the deal, she'd read it another way. She'd read it off him. "You made this deal with fear in you," she said. "Fear you'd lose your place. Fear you'd fail. That fear is still there. I can pull it out, like you pulled mine." "That's your trick, not mine." "It runs both ways." She stepped close. "Give it to me. The fear, and what's bound to it. I'll see the shape of the thing without you saying one word." He understood. He always did, fast, with no wasted breath. He took her wrist and pressed her palm flat to his chest, over the scar and the glowing stone. "If this kills you," he said, "I'll be angry." "Noted." Zara pulled. Heat rushed up her arm. Not warmth this time. A cold, coiled weight, heavy as wet rope. She saw it as she drew it in. A blossoming tree in the palace grounds, red flowers bright against the dark. The deal was rooted there. Break it, and the tree dies. And bound to the tree, a life. Not Fabin's. His father's. The old king had staked his own heart on it. If Fabin ever forced the deal open, the king would fall. Zara gasped and let go. The cold sat behind her ribs now, hers to carry. Fabin swayed, lighter, freed of the thing he'd hidden. "It's the king," she said. "The someone who dies. It's him." Fabin went still. "You saw it." "A tree with red flowers. His life tied to its roots." She pressed a hand to her chest. "You've been trying to get back inside to break the deal. It would kill your father." "He'd rather I not know that." "Now I know." Her voice shook. "And I can't unknow it." A horse's hooves struck the packed ground beyond the gate. Fast, coming closer. Zara turned. A tall chestnut mount rounded the wall at a hard gallop, no rider she recognized, tack marked with the king's crest. Someone had seen them at the gate. Someone had ridden to report it. The terms were hers. So was the weight of them. To save Fabin, she'd have to let his father live, or choose to let him die. And the king already knew where they stood.