Page 98 of The Bonds of Indigo

Kayn doesn’t speak. He stands up straight and slowly removes his hand from my mouth. He doesn’t go far, just lifts a hand and tucks a wet strand of hair behind my ear.

“If I could go back and kill them before they ever touched you, I’d do it, Amarah.”

I bite my bottom lip hard as it starts to tremble.

“I hope you tell me what happened that night… and every second after, until I met you. You don’t deserve to carry what happened by yourself… or to live with the trauma of it alone.”

I don’t know if he notices how violently I’m fighting the tears building in my eyes, but whether he ignores it or turns away of his own accord, I’m grateful all the same.

“You aren’t alone anymore.”

The moment his back is to me, the tears fall. They don’t need a blink or a thought—they just come.

And come.

And come.

Oh… Gods.

Vendra, what am I going to do?

“I’m truly sorry, my child.”

Chapter 26

Seven years ago

Night of Emethye

My heart hurts; I’ve been running for so long. Vendra has stayed close to me, but my body is too tired to sustain this.

The moment my knees begin to buckle, vines sweep around my hips, holding me upright. My feet keep striking the cobblestone path, but now Thornwyn is beside me, his steps matching mine. When I look up, he lowers his head without hesitation, and I grasp the roots along his shoulder for balance.

Sylverton is just through the tunnel carved into one of the surrounding mountains, but I fear I’m already too late. The sharp, poisonous floral and bitter-earth scent of spell mixing burns the back of my throat. They’re actually going through with it, despite everything I warned them about.

As soon as we move under the mountain’s shelter, it’s like a switch flips. The silver glow of the night sky disappears, replaced by a street bathed entirely in violet light. My heart stutters and I push myself harder, pumping my arms as Thornwyn nudges me forward, pulling when my strength falters.

When we exit the tunnel, the slight curve opens up to the small town that refused every warning I gave. I called days ago, and told them to evacuate. I even came myself, just the day before last, begging them to see reason. They’re the last of the nature-born—wingless for thousands of years now, but still tied to magic the way Witches are.

It’s why they’re being targeted.

Thornwyn sweeps me into his arms and leaps off the high cliff, shaving minutes off the winding descent to the canyon and the town below. His landing booms through the trees, splintering several in the vicinity. He sets me down, and I sprint toward the single road that leads in.

Three figures stand there, one holding an automatic rifle. The moment he notices me, whether by sound or sight, the gun rises, aimed directly at me.

I throw my hands up. “Please⁠—”

“You again… You brought this upon us!”

It’s the town’s mayor. An old man who has clung desperately to the legacy of his people. They have always been targets, but when Mundane and Dylox law shifted toward coexistence, their persecution waned. For hundreds of years they faded into obscurity. A nearly forgotten race.

But obscurity doesn’t erase hatred.

Or history.

And he’s carried every wound his people endured like a stone on his back. I just wish he understood that I am not his enemy.

“Why are you and your people still here?!” I lift my hands, palms open, but I don’t stop moving toward him. “I… I can’t save everyone. I’m going to risk my life to stop her, but I can’t do that while you’re all still here! She’s coming for your people!”