“Okay, so what’s the end goal of all this?” I asked again. “You kill the Nacht family”—something I would never allow to happen—“and then what? You kill all the Elders and the Councilmen, too?”
He seemed to consider for a long moment as we walked, the trees eventually blocking out the sun as he guided us into the forest.
I thought he intended to ignore me after several minutes of silence, then he quietly said, “Then we restore order. It’ll be my job to realign the source and define a new monarchy.”
“A new monarchy to resemble the old one? With Shade being the rightful king?” It was a guess based on their odd relationship and the commentary regarding Death Bloods and Quandary Bloods.
“He’ll absolutely be given a position of power, but he won’t be in charge,” Zakkai replied. “I suspect he’ll be appointed to the reformed council by the new monarch.”
“And who will the new monarch be?” I prompted. “You?”
“I’m the Source Architect, Aflora. Not a monarch.”
“Yet you claim to be a king.”
“An appropriate designation, but not the same,” he repeated cryptically.
“Where do I fit in all this?” I asked. “As your supposed queen?”
He merely smiled. “You should probably be more focused on the present, Aflora. And the path right before you, not the one miles away.”
“If you want my coo
peration, then you need to tell me how I fit into all of this,” I replied. “Your father seems to think we’re breaking our bonds.” He’d brought it up again yesterday, asking why it hadn’t been done. Zakkai had just changed the subject, as he often did when talking to me.
“My father thinks a lot of things. That doesn’t make any of his statements or theories correct.”
“That doesn’t clarify your intentions or plans.”
“No, it doesn’t,” he agreed, squeezing my hand again before releasing me.
I frowned. “I thought you said we needed to touch for me to be outside?”
“I believe I indicated it was temporary.” His lips curled as he pressed his palm to my lower back. “Now focus, Aflora. Look around you.”
I used to think Shade was a walking riddle. Now I knew what one truly looked like—Zakkai. Everything he said twisted and turned the phrases, confusing me more. It unnerved me how he could reveal so much and yet so little at the same time.
At least he’d finally told me where we were. Not that I could do anything with that knowledge. Because he was right—Zeph would come for me, regardless of the risk.
We needed to move forward, not backward.
And I was temporarily safe here.
As well as… content.
I didn’t want to admit that, but this paradigm was much more comfortable than Midnight Fae Academy. I could breathe here, play with my elemental magic, and truly learn. There were no handicaps, no collars, no pretending. I was just me—Aflora. And it left me feeling rejuvenated and right.
Rather than push Zakkai for more information—a task I knew wouldn’t end in my favor—I decided to play his game and took in the greenery surrounding us. The beautiful trees sang of their history, their life and promise, their happiness to flourish inside this little alternate reality bubble.
I brushed my fingers down the trunks, learning their magic and memorizing it for future use.
Then I stilled as a gentle caw graced my ears. Clove.
I spun around to find my familiar on a branch of one of the trees, her glorious black-and-white-feathered wings tucked into her sides. “Oh, pretty girl!” I looked at Zakkai. “Did you call her here?”
“No. She followed you into the paradigm.” He studied me. “Familiars are never far away. They’re an extension of our power, similar to the wands. Wasn’t she close to you at the Academy?”
“I don’t know. We’ve only recently met,” I admitted. “Kols taught me how to call her to me. After Zeph’s familiar killed her.” I scowled at the memory and ran my fingers through her feathers to counteract the memory. “He apologized to her… after she brought me a stonepecker.” My brow furrowed. “Was that from you?”