It wasn’t until Z finally returned in the late hours of the morning that Belle realized that in fact it was not lucky that Z had decided to join the guards in their hunt for Daivad. Belle had spent hours lying in that courtyard, stretching her magic out as far as it could go, searching for the faintest sign of a lost child or a little monster—and she had found many, to her dismay, but none of them familiar. She was worn—Belle still didn’t have her magic back to full strength and full stamina, especially not after a sleepless night and a brain buzzing with stress. Fear. Grief. She’d even dozed off a few times, but as Z’s strange, malleable magic neared the house, Belle jerked awake and scrambled to her feet.
Her skin felt tight and warm—she’d no doubt caught a sunburn even through the cloudy day, but she paid it no mind. She rushed back through Z’s house, right by Jac who was passed out on Z’s dining table next to an empty plate, to meet Z at the door. Z still wore the same feminine face from last night—almost the same. Now, it was stiff and stern, entirely unusual for Z. And her magic, usually perfectly crafted to appear unconcerned and maybe a bit mischievous, sizzled with anger. That meant Daivad and Ben had managed to escape alright, though that had never really been a question. If the queen hadn’t managed to catch Daivad after taking a dozen of her camps, the Luvathan Guard surely weren’t up to the task.
Z came through the door already unbuckling the armor she’d been given by the Guard, and Belle was surprised to see that when Z’s gaze fell upon Belle, her sizzling magic began to spit. Belle had been about to launch into her practiced speech asking Z to help her look for Pait and Kitten, but the wind left her sails and she shut her mouth.
Growling, actually growling, Z said, “I have questions for you, Nyx,” and strode past Belle toward her bedroom.
Belle trotted after Z, mind-racing. What had she missed? What had she done to anger Z when they hadn’t even seen each other since last night? And most importantly—how was she going to fix this? Once again, Lady Belle reached for the reins.
In the bedroom, Z shed her armor quickly, letting it crash to the floor piece by piece. Each clang! send spikes of adrenaline through Belle, her eyes darting all over Z’s magic, trying to read every inch.
“Tell me, Nyx,” Z rounded on her, still growling, unbuckling a greave and kicking it away. Her growl went low and quiet, “Why when I got to that clearing of twisted trees and broken earth, your scent was all over it? And Jac’s?”
Panic snatched up the reins so quickly they snapped, and Belle’s mind went white and empty. She clawed around the pale abyss for a single thought, but grasped only a faint ringing in her ears. She wouldn’t have been able to speak anyway, her heart was taking up too much space in her throat.
Still, she opened her mouth, hoping some explanation would come out. “I—”
Z now stood in only her dress from the night before, all wrinkled and damp from its time trapped between sweaty skin and armor, her open hands searching for an answer. “What the fuck led you outside the walls, Nyx?”
“I—I…”
Z glared, waiting, but Belle just closed her mouth. She’d been so distracted by Kitten’s disappearance, she hadn’t even thought. How had she not realized Z would scent them there? If it had occurred to her, she’d have been able to craft a story that, flimsy as it might be, she knew Z would choose to believe. Just like she’d chosen not to pry when Belle showed up at Quiet House covered in monster blood.
Z’s magic washed over her like hot oil—but even so, Belle could feel it willing her to come up with some explanation.
“Does—does anyone else know?” Belle asked.
“I came hoping you’d give me a reason not to hand the knowledge off to anyone else.”
Belle pressed her palm to her chest, rubbing soothing circles into her sternum. “I … I make friends of monsters, so I went out before the sun had scared them off.” That much was truth. “Hoping I could … help. Jac stuck to my side, of course. We found the battle right at its ending.” She chose her words very carefully. “We watched Kure die, and then this enormous, horrifying ocean beast came galloping out of the darkness and ate him whole. We—”
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Z held a palm up to stop her. “And Daivad and his friend rode off, right? Tell me that’s the beginning and end of that story.”
Belle nodded quickly. “Yes.”
Her magic still popped and spat angrily, and that growl still rolled off her, but alongside it came an exhausted sigh. She crossed to the little cushioned bronze couch below one of the bedroom’s windows and sat heavily, raking frustrated fingers through her sweaty, strawberry-blonde curls.
Belle stayed quiet while Z’s magic settled to a simmer. Low, Z growled, “What thoughts could have driven you to do something so obviously named Reckless?” But when Belle opened her mouth, Z spoke without looking up. “Don’t answer that.”
Z knew Belle’s words, true as they might technically be, stank of sweet shit. This story didn’t explain why Belle’s and Jac’s scents had been all mingled up with the others involved in the battle. It was possible, even, that Z was beginning to piece together how Daivad had known to come to Luvatha in the first place. Z had a duty, if not to her queen then to her own mother. And if she knew for a fact that Belle was aiding the Traitor Prince himself and she withheld that information…
“I had the hunter I’d been assigned to retrieve and the Traitor Prince himself in my grasp tonight, Nyx—and I let both of them slip through my claws.”
“Kure named himself Rogue—Traitor, even,” Belle protested. “His actions can’t fall on your shoulders.”
“You think Aran’s eyes will see it the same?” Z gave one short, wild laugh. “You think my mother’s eyes will? Kure was my responsibility, and Daivad… You saw what he did to this city. And so soon after Duxon? He humiliated her again, and I allowed it to happen. She’ll name this a declaration of war, Nyx. She’ll burn the whole queendom down just to flush him out so she can pry her pride from the charred claws of his corpse.”
Belle felt heavy, suddenly, like the Dark Mother had heaped twenty times the gravity on her flesh and bones. She had been the one to bring Daivad here. Any fallout from the events of last night, of this morning would be because of that. What happened to Z when they returned to Broken Earth, what steps Aran took in retaliation for Daivad’s actions… It was dizzying.
She crossed the room, her feet feeling weighted and awkward, and knelt before Z. Z slid her soft hand behind Belle’s neck and gripped it, worry and anger and fear burning in her gaze, in her magic. Belle said, “I know you, Z. I know you’ll show the queen that the fault weighs on Daivad, and Kure, not you. You, named Most Charming in all the land.”
Z gave another exhausted sigh, then pulled Belle in to a frustrated kiss, one much sloppier than the ones they usually shared. Z tasted like sweat and fear.
When they broke apart, Belle swiped Z’s sweaty curls off her forehead and pressed her own forehead there. She added, “I’ll do whatever I can. Spin the story, sway Richard …” a little lighter, she added, “fake your death.”
With a dry laugh, Z said, “That might be the plan named Best.”
“Maybe we just stay on his trail instead of following one back to Broken Earth, stay outside those walls until we’ve got Daivad’s corpse in tow.”
“The queen will name my next path, and no one else. I’m not stepping one toe off whichever one she picks for me—not for a long, long while. And I’d guess she’ll want me home as soon as news hits her.”
“Well…” Belle fidgeted. “While we’re waiting…”
A fresh growl rolled off Z. “Mother fucking Light and all the Children of the Moons—what now, Nyx?”
Belle balked, but just for a moment. Kitten had been lost in Luvatha too long. And she needed help finding him. It was a horrible time to ask. But she had to.
Quickly, Belle explained that Pait had been marked, wrongly, and that she was out in Luvatha somewhere, alone except for a little monster in her bag—though Belle was vague on the specifics of how that had happened. While she talked, Z slowly pulled back from Belle, and the expression on her face made Belle’s stomach sink, and sink, and sink. But she kept talking, ending with a weak request for Z’s help in finding both orphans and getting them off Luvatha’s streets.
One moment of silence stretched into two, and then three, and then more, while Z just stared at Belle’s pleading face. Her magic was … angrier than Belle had ever seen it.
“After all this,” Z hissed, “your concern is for a monster you met days ago? And a thief you’ve known only hours?”
Belle felt her face flushing hot. “They … they need help, Z.”
“Out.” Z pointed at her bedroom door.
“Z, pl—”
“OUT!”