Disclaimer: I don't own the Court of Thorns and Roses series
One Last Time
Feyre clutched her bow to her chest and forced her cramped legs to remain squatted behind the boulder as a dark, lithe creature came out of the thicket. This was the first time in years of years that she had purposely sought out a Suriel, not since the one she had come to call The Dreamer had died during the last war at Ianthe's hands. Feyre knew it was without true merit, but to her it felt like a betrayal to the Suriel who had been kind to her - to seek out another in it's stead.
These past score of years she had done everything in her power to not need such a creature or it's insight. Unfortunately the time had come once again to ask one of its kind a question only they would know.
Feyre's eyes narrowed as the creature drew closer to the dark velvet dress cloak she had left amongst the twigs. Even with the drought and endless dust and dead growth scatter around it, the Suriel did not make a sound. If not for her keen sense of sight and sound, Feyre would have no idea when the creature stood on the trap's mark.
Just a little further she willed it.
Just a little further and then she would have the answer. The Suriel would tell her what she already suspected - that the blight in the cave was the entrance they had been desperately sought. If they were wrong however, there was no telling what would happen to whomever entered the mysterious crack in the cave. Feyre was not willing to risk her mate's life over a theory; because it would have to be Rhys that went through the rift. Ruefully she looked down at the small swell in her stomach.
Of course her tonic would fail her during the worst drought Prythian had ever seen. Amren was still missing, and with the Nesta's envoy to the humans on the Continent, Cassian and Mor were both out of reach as well. Azriel was inspecting the mysterious sickness in the Illyrian camps, while Elain suffered from the same mysterious ailment in the town house with a very concerned Lucien watching over her.
Feyre was sure that whatever the sickness was - it was tied to drought and the reason that Amren and the creature called Bryaxis had disappeared.
Before the sickness had muted the Seer in Elain's gift, she had begun to tell her sister about the cave, or the blight inside the crack, but the words had been between a few gasps and a high fever that had Lucien snarling and Feyre unwilling to push her sister.
Now all that was left was the Suriel.
Even as she thought it, Feyre watched in disbelief as the white eyed creature sniffed at the cloak before turning away. Feyre gaped. She had never seen a Suriel refuse a cloak before, although now that she had watched it, she took note of the royal purple and gold one about it's shoulders. Perhaps it had recently required a different cloak.
Still…
"I know you are out there Feyre Cursebreaker," the creature called. Unlike The Dreamer, this Suriel's rasping voice was old and feminine.
The shaking protest of her aching muscles disappeared as Feyre gracefully stood and came out from behind the boulder. Here in the Middle, she and the Suriel were the brightest things amongst the grey and black. Dust kicked up at her feet as she took a hesitant step towards the Suriel, only for her quarry to hiss out in warning.
"I came with a question," Feyre muttered in a strange voice as she studied the creature. It looked exactly like The Dreamer. Aside from the cloak there was no physical difference between the two, not in height or gait or color or form; only the voices were different.
"We are not all dreamers, High Lady," the Suriel snapped and before Feyre could argue or protest or even chase in pursuit, the creature kicked off and away with such might that the leap stirred up the entire earth around her.
A great cloud of dust and dried clots of dirt rained down on her, forcing Feyre to close her eyes and cover her mouth.
"Wait!" she choked out, but it was in vain. The Suriel had vanished.
Coughing, Feyre went over to her trap and hurriedly dismantled it. The cloud of dust seemed to laugh at her as her hand reached out for her cloak.
You already know the answer to the question you ask, a very familiar and somewhat amused voice whispered so closely to her that Feyre spun around. She expected to find The Dreamer standing behind her, but there was only more dirt and dust. It laughed at her again, and Feyre forced the sudden foolish feeling of happiness that welled in her chest to quiet.
"Thank you," she breathed out instead and watched as the grey cloud brightened considerably to that of a golden brown before disappearing entirely in the passing light of the sun. She knew somehow that there would be no more help and kindness from Suriels after this; but that was to be expected. A peace settled over her that wasn't there before, one that didn't want her sadness, only assurance.
Remembering her vow, Feyre blinked away the lingering serenity of the silent goodbye. She couldn't very well leave the world a better place if she didn't leave the Middle first. Smiling slightly, she withdrew her rope and gathered her trapping supplies. The smile turned into a full blown smirk when she reached out to retrieve her cloak and found it missing.
It seemed The Dreamer was going to the afterlife in style.
Snorting slightly and with her spirit renewed, Feyre winnowed home.
Author's Note: This was just my small attempt at closure. I really liked the Suriel and the Bone Carver, and even the Weaver and Bryaxis. When it all ended I was actually quite sad that those creatures perished and right when the book began to hint that there was more to their terrible nature and the common fey beliefs that beheld them. I didn't intend for Feyre's circumstances to sound so cliche or appealing. I kinda spun a web with this one, but I really believe that the circumstances would have to be very dire before she ever wanted to seek out another Suriel again.