Page 79 of The Edge of Darkness

Upon hearing that my letter was successfully delivered to my brother, who was very much still alive and well, my anxiousness was put to ease. Folquin was not able to converse with him—for fear of being followed—but he informed me that, from the looks of it, Liam had turned his worries into productivity. His woodworking area was full of products that lined the entire length of our property, and in the time that Folquin was there, a few villagers arrived to inquire about purchasing some of Liam’s wares.

That was my brother—quick to turn his stress into something useful, if only to keep his mind from spiraling to every worst-case scenario there could possibly be.

I hated the thought of my brother worrying. Hated even more that I couldn’t be there in person to settle his nerves and answer all his questions.

At least he was safe, he was getting by, and he now knew why I had not sent word after I’d made the King’s Guard.

I hadn’t planned on hanging around to hear the rest of the latest developments, but when Folquin mentioned Breck, I changed my mind.

Ever since Morah had publicly refused Killian’s hand, Killian was keeping his cousin—the only one he believed to be truly loyal to him—within arm’s reach at all times. So, in order to get information to us without drawing suspicion, Breck had been relaying what he could to Folquin. And since Morah had also been branded a public enemy of Benmoor, Folquin was delivering missives to Zofia on her behalf. Having been disguising himself as a merchant to get in and out of Benmoor, he had successfully conveyed all of Morah and Fallon’s commands to their comrade, and the pieces of their long-awaited revolution were moving into place. It seemed Folquin had become a glorified liaison between us and just about every other court.

With Ramil stripped of his Alatyr, Morah’s opportunity to strike was at hand. Zofia had sent word that their alliance of revolutionaries were fully prepared to make their stand and take back the throne in Fallon’s name. All they needed was the perfect moment to take Ramil by surprise. Niall claimed to have a plan for that already, though he hadn’t divulged it to any of us yet.

Regardless, I hoped Niall was paying Folquin well enough for all that he was risking. And I hoped Breck was being careful.

After the meeting, I made my way to our newest guest’s chambers. The wind was howling, driving in more storms from the east. I was thankful that The Keep was tucked deeply into the mountainside, so none of us had to hear the torrent as it raged through the valley.

Silas answered his sister’s door, beaming with a handsome smile and welcoming me in without hesitation.

Across the bedchamber, the witch sat cross-legged on the rug in front of the black hearth, watching the flames flicker like she was deciphering images within them. Her plate of roasted meat and vegetables sat forgotten on the table beside her.

“How is your friend recovering?” Silas inquired of Fallon.

“He’s doing well. I got to watch Maeson work on healing his nerves, which was interesting. He should make a full recovery soon.”

“That’s good to hear.”

We were all relieved to know that Benmoor’s heir was recovering from the effects of the poison at a much better pace than expected. He would be a powerful ally, and the Desert Court would need him to be strong and able when Morah’s revolutionaries made their stand. We would need Benmoor united under one ruler—the rightful heir—before this war began.

I rubbed my arms. Despite the fire, there was a chill in the room, one that wasn’t related to the weather at all. My guess was that it was all Nivelle’s doing.

Silas noted my movement. “I can get you a blanket if⁠—”

“No, I’m fine. Thank you,” I said, cutting him off.

He dipped his head, then carefully slipped out the door so as to not bump his wings.

Before I took a step, his voice echoed in my mind. If you convince her to leave this room, I’ll be forever in your debt.

I spun back around, but the door was indeed shut. He had mind-walked. I blinked several times, coming to terms with his voice in my head, when I was so used to hearing Niall’s.

When were you going to tell me you can mind-walk!?

I thought you—uh—I thought you might have pieced that part together by now. He sounded embarrassed. All Dionachs can communicate with their Dionam this way. It comes with the bond that manifests upon our summons.

The sudden realization hit me. You were the one who told me to fight and to run when I was in Belthria. It was your voice that I heard during the tournament.

Ever since I’d found out about Niall’s mind-walking ability, I had assumed it had been his voice I’d heard, given that he was the only one I knew who could do it. But the fact that it was Silas made so much more sense.

Yes, he said. It was my only way of helping you without giving myself away.

I let out a sigh. Niall wasn’t going to like this. I’ll . . . see what I can do . . . about your sister.

I felt Silas’s relief rush over me, the same way I felt Niall’s emotions from our mating bond.

Niall really wasn’t going to like that.

Does, uh . . . Does the connection work both ways, then? Can I speak into your mind whenever I wish, or do you have to be the one to initiate the connection?