"Will you be joining me?" Manon asked the blonde-haired witch in front of her as she began hastily changing into flying armor.
"Joining you in what?" Asterin asked, still confused as to why Manon had came back seething after leaving in such a haste.
"I'm leaving. I'm going to Terrasen." Manon tied her white hair up, seriously contemplating shaving it all off because of how much it got in the way.
"Manon, what do you mean? You know Mother Blackbeak will murder you if you do this." Asterin questioned, looking at the Wing Leader like she was crazy.
"She won't. According to her, I will be flying down to Adarlan to see how Rifthold and the other cities survived the… well, survived the queen's wrath. But we cannot take our wyverns—there will be too much upkeep, and Terrasen might not have the necessary supplies for them. Who knows what's going on up there?" Manon more clothes into an already-full pack and, with a flick of her wrist, it vanished into thin air. She took a second to lavish in the fact that she had magic back and she wouldn't have to fly on her broom with her heavy leather pack.
Manon expected Asterin to fight for a little longer before giving in, but she just smiled her harsh, wicked, smile.
"I've been meaning to try out my old broomstick."
Manon opened the doors that had not been touched in over 20 years, and looked in front of her to the rows and rows of broomsticks, each one marked with which clan the owner belonged to and their color.
She walked up to the one she knew was hers, that was bonded to hers, and took it in her hands, a low sigh escaping her. She heard Asterin do the same.
"Let's go." Manon said, and Asterin kept her fiery, wild smile on her lips while following Manon out.
They each mounted the brooms, and Manon felt the protective sense slip over her eyes. She blinked a few times to get adjusted to the extra layer before laughing loud enough for the wyverns in their holding to hear and, in an instant, she was in the air.
The brooms were so much faster than the wyverns, they defied time itself. They would be in Terrasen in less than an hour.
Asterin sped up slightly to where she was flying right next to Manon, her long golden hair flowing in the wind.
"This is amazing." Asterin's voice was nearly a whisper compared to the roaring wind, but Manon grinned back.
"Do you plan to find Elide?" Asterin asked, her voice louder now.
Manon had not thought about that. She really hoped Elide had found her way to Terrasen by now, and was safe with the queen and her court. She nodded, deciding that the first thing that she'd do in Terrasen was find Elide and make sure she was safe—and then what? Would she bring her back with her after talking to the queen? Manon didn't know if she'd be willing to be in another war again, and what was coming amongst the Blackbeaks was nothing short of a battle. Manon had to get rid of her grandmother, had to try to convince the other Matrons and clans that the old laws were for primal, cruel, beasts, and that's not what witches were. They were elegantly brutal, wholly powerful, and should act on fact and not instinct.
She spent the rest of the flight like that, looking down to the mountains and trees and spending her time thinking about the future of the Ironteeth witches.
Elide Lochan shivered with the next gust of cold wind that brushed against her. Terrasen was as beautiful as she'd remembered it, but so gods-damned cold, and barren. No one seemed to be anywhere, and even after two weeks of wandering, she hadn't encountered a single soul. She knew that she was near Orynth, could begin to recall the route she'd taken out, and began to be comforted by the fact.
She still hadn't encountered the "Celaena Sardothien" Kaltain had told her about, and, by this time, she suspected she was probably a lady of Aelin's court that she'd encounter once she found the pa—
What in the hell?
Above her, two figures flew through the sky on sticks that looked awfully like…broomsticks.
Manon.
She was probably with her Second, and they were probably headed to the palace. She would expect Elide to be there, and she'd probably bring her back to wherever the witches were staying now.
Grabbing what little things she had brought with her, Elide kept her eyes on the sky and began to sprint in the way that the two witches were going. Over the past month, her ankle had began to heal, and, although it wasn't completely back to normal, tasks like running and walking weren't difficult to her.
"Manon!" Elide called in her raspy, unused voice. The two witches didn't stop, only kept continuing in the direction of the palace.
"Manon!" Elide called again, louder, with her face pointed to the sky and her legs working hard to try to at least stay within earshot of the witches. She knew that Manon probably had a better sense of hearing, sight, and smell since magic returned to Adarlan, but Elide wished that she herself could have more speed because of whatever little witch blood she had in her.
Elide continued to scream the Wing Leader's name until she saw the broomsticks halt in the sky and began to descend. Elide ran even faster, her ankle beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable and her lungs struggling to keep up with her breaths. She could now see the general colors that Manon seemed to always have: the white of her hair, red of her cloak, and black of her clothes. Elide slowed into a jog then, knowing her and Manon would cross paths as long as she continued.
"Manon…" Elide was out of breath, but still refused to give up. The broomsticks hit the grass before Manon and who she supposed was Asterin did. Manon jumped from her position and began to run in Elide's direction, who was now walking slowly to her, in a slight haze. She never thought that she'd see Manon again.
Over the past month or so, Elide hadn't really been keeping track of time very well, Manon had seemed to have matured, but also soften a bit, if that was possible. She didn't really care, couldn't even think properly aside from the fact that Manon, the kind, beautiful witch was here for her.
For a second, Elide thought that Manon would have hugged her right there, in front of her Second. It was probably because the Manon she was looking at then had more of an air of compassion than the one she'd first seen in Morath. Maybe it was just for Elide, or maybe it was in general.
"Elide." Manon seemed slightly dazed, but concerned. "Elide, why haven't you gotten to the palace yet? Did something happen along the way? Do you need help?" Manon's pale hands grasped Elide's forearms tightly, as if checking to see that she was real.
To hell with it, Elide thought.
She wrapped her arms around Manon's shoulders and breathed in deeply, smelling her scent and sighing.
"I didn't think that I'd see you again." Elide breathed into Manon's shoulder.
The witch pulled away with a smirk, a single hand still on Elide's waist. Something flashed through her eyes quickly, and the hand was gone, replaced with a sly smirk.
"I don't leave people of my kind alone. Of course I'd come and check on you." Manon took the hood of her coat down, and Elide watched as the protective lens slid off of Manon's golden eyes. She kept her hands at her sides in fists to resist hugging Manon again.
"Are we going to go see the palace—the queen and her court?" Elide asked, still rather anxious to see how her old friend Aelin was doing, and what Aedion was up to. She prayed to Mala that they were both still alive.
"Where else would we go?" Manon held out a hand, summoning her broomsticks, then turning to Elide with a smile.
"Come on."