Page 48 of The Never List
“What power could they possibly have to stand against the Legends?”
“That’s the question,” she says. “The one that’s driving the princes mad. The Faders aren’t regular citizens—they have power of their own. Power that should’ve long weakened many generations ago.”
My stomach turns. “Demis?” I breathe the question.
“Most likely,” Mirren says with a cold finality that has my bones frosting over. “But there is no proof. They could be using enhancement elixirs. That much hasn’t been uncovered yet. Could you imagine what would happen if word got out that the remaining demis who aren’t imprisoned are no longer loyal and are, in fact, growing in numbers? That their powers haven’t been diluted by time?”
Demis would face more suspicion than ever before. I’m not sure I’m breathing.
The power in my blood thrashes, and a small breeze flutters past the two of us. My heart pounds harder—there isn’t even an opened window I can blame it on—but it’s light enough that Mirren doesn’t seem to notice.
“The Legends have been hurt by these Faders before?”I ask, worry leaking into every inch of my being.
“A few times, a Fader has gotten lucky and taken a piece out of one of our princes, but they’re so powerful, they heal quickly.” Her eyes go distant, reliving some memory I can’t even try to contemplate. I’m too busy spiraling inside.
I knew Erin, Ivy, Layce, and I couldn’t be the only demis with stronger-than-average powers hiding in plain sight, but I never once thought there were some out thereorganizingagainst the Legends, against Lumathyst.
Even if there’s no proof, I know it’s more likely to be demis than enhancements—the tonics and powders cultivated on the dark market that give the user enhanced abilities for a short burst of time. They have side effects I’ve seen firsthand on the poor souls in the Ashlands who spend all they have on one taste, one boost that helps them escape their reality, even for a moment. Wouldn’t the Legends easily be able to tell the difference between the two forms of power?
And now that I know the Faders are attacking the Legends and their cities…goddess, if the Legends figure out what I am, they might think I’m a part of that group. They might think I’m a Fader sent to weaken them from the inside out—which couldn’t be further from the truth.
I just want tosurviveand live long enough to find my sister.
Mirren rises after I’ve been silent too long, heading toward the doors.
“Mirren,” I say just as she’s opened it. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Thank you for caring enough about them to ask,” she says. “They aren’t used to that. The princes are used tobeing wanted for their power, wealth, and status. There are few out there who actually care about their safety, physical or emotional. Even some of their own fathers…” She cuts herself off. “Anyway, I hope you know what you’re doing, Rylee Gray. Hope you know what you’re getting involved with.”
My eyes widen just a fraction, but she gives me a nod and shuts the doors behind her when she leaves.
It’s an hour before I’ve calmed my racing mind, and my fear of discovery gives way to worry that Kal has not yet returned. Another hour before I’ve shed my day clothes and slipped into an oversize white tunic, leaving my legs and feet bare as I pace the room.
It’s another two before I realize I haven’t even tried to sit or sleep, too busy warding off scenes playing out in my mind—gruesome battles where Kal and the Legends are harmed, or stealthy fights where Kal doesn’t see a blow coming, injuring him beyond repair.
And just before dawn, my incessant worry transforms into anger—downrightirrationalanger at Kal for leaving me behind.
Something gnaws at me. A desperation shaking inside me, reaching out for the Legends in a way I don’t understand, like a thread stretched too tight over a long distance.
Kal should’ve taken me. Should’ve kept me by his side. Anything would’ve been better than this…waiting with no word. Not knowing if they are alive and safe or bleeding out in the darkness.
A deep, boiling rage builds inside me at just the thought of any one of them being harmed, and it’s powerful enough to shake my senses. I don’t know these men. Why should Icare so much?
If something happens to them, I’ll be fodder for the kings. That’s the source behind the worry—
I hear the grand entryway doors open, and I’m out of my room in a heartbeat.
16
Rylee
The carpet is soft beneath my bare feet as I race down the hallway, skidding to a halt at the top of the wide staircase.
Kal pauses at the bottom, eyes cast upward. They widen when he spots me.
“Have you slept at all?” he asks, climbing the stairs. He shrugs out of his leather jacket and folds it under one arm.
My breath is tight in my chest, some feral thing inside me wanting to roar at him while simultaneously sighing in relief at the sight of him alive. “That’s the first thing you have to say to me?”
